DISCLAIMER: This story will contain strong language, violent acts, extreme sexually explicit descriptions, rape, sodomy, anarchy, war, loss of hope, heterosexual acts, homosexual acts, lesbian acts, hard to pronounce names, murder, mayhem, carnage, grief, perversion, perverts, a couple of laughs, a lot of tears, and just about anything else I can imagine up. If you are looking to read something light, pure, and breezy with a predictable happy ending then this is not the story for you! Consider yourself warned.

PATRIOTS: Oh, how I hate Peyton Manning….

FEEDBACK: is welcome and encouraged p.phair@comcast.net

The Empire After The End Of Civilization

by phair

Chapter 1

Jaimy tried to warm the chill from her bones by standing closer to the firecan. The flames were almost extinguished. Their daily ration of combustibles was spent and the unit was bound to only get colder. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. Instinctively, she pulled her worn leather jacket closed over her narrow chest. A rain drop plunked into the firecan from the vent hole above when thunder rumbled in the distance. The dying fire hissed and puffed smoke as if complaining about being rushed to its own ending.

"Great, just great," Jaimy muttered.

"Forget it. It ain't doing no good over here anyway. Get out of your leathers and get into the huddle," a sleepy unit mate groused.

Jaimy glanced over her shoulder. Nine or ten bodies nestled together under meager blankets as close as they could get to the back wall. The aluminum roll door at the front of the unit seemed to attract more cold than keep out. Some nights it got so frigid fingers would freeze to the pull handle. It was always a bloody scene tugging the unfortunate idiot free. Of course, water could facilitate the release without blood shed but nobody wanted to waste any water from their daily food rations.

"I'll be over as soon as I bank it," Jaimy replied.

Before she could grab the poker, a muffled shout echoed in the night air. It was loud enough to be heard but not clear enough to be understood.

"Fuck!" Jaimy and several unit mates cursed as one.

"Another sortie? Fucking unbelievable! Where is he getting all these Rustlers from?"

Jaimy shook her head as she grabbed her gun, "Doesn't matter. Cletus got 'em and we got to fight 'em so shut your mouth and get your gear." She paused a moment before a grin spread across her sooty face, "Unless you want me to save you the trip out and shoot you myself?"

There were grumbles but the band of Urbanites started to move. Jaimy grabbed the handle and tugged the roll door open. The night air was cold and thick with the smoke from hundreds of fires. Some of the flames were warming other storage units housing the rest of the lesser city of W Gate Mall . However, the bulk of the smoke drifted in from Bost, a capital city.

Jaimy took a deep breath of the familiar fumes. A slight cough rattled her body but she quickly shook it off. She took several steps out onto the broken pavement before another shout rose above the steady generator engine rumble powering W Gate Mall's lights.

"WRITER APPROACHES! WRITER APPROACHES!"

Jaimy gave a deep sigh and holstered her sawed off shotgun. "Relax. It's just another messenger. I'll go out and see to it."

"You gonna surrender us this time," a voice chuckled from the darkness behind her.

"Keep bustin' my balls and I'll consider it."

Jaimy left her unit mates laughing. The thunk of her boots hitting the concrete competed with the splats of rain as the drops began to fall in earnest. She hurried to the only entrance inside the wall protecting the W Gate Mall. Her grandfather helped design the fortification of freight storage containers lying end to end which ringed the city. His warnings about hostility arising among cities and towns as supplies dwindled were well heeded by his community. They spent ten years building a defensive wall around themselves and gathering as many supplies as they could cram into their new home.

Other places believed the federal forces would regroup and persevere if given enough time. They waited too long. Foolish. It didn't take more than a few years of anarchy before the most vicious people lead frightened mobs to seize control of small towns. Cities, which had already plunged into chaos, were easy prey for marauding Warlords. Fighting between the fiefdoms was inevitable. The strongest survived to rule; imposing their will as the new law.

There had been many offensives against W Gate Mall over the years. None had succeeded. Most lasted only a few days. But, Cletus and his army of Rustlers were a different story. They had relentlessly attacked for more than a month. Swarms of well equipped and organized soldiers would race the wall and start to climb it. There weren't enough bullets in the world to stop them. The Urbanites of W Gate Mall were forced to send fighters over the wall for hand to hand combat. They were no match for the Rustlers but it slowed the advancement.

Jaimy was drenched when she arrived at the city gate. A crowd of twenty or so unit leaders were already gathered. Morris, the mayor, stood next to the man in a Rustler uniform holding a piece of yellowed paper. The Writer, a protect class because of their rarity, was allowed to pass through the gate by the wall guards.

"What's the message this time?" Jaimy asked.

Morris looked a bit worried when he replied, "Cletus wants to talk truce but only with kin of Liam."

"Is that what it says or is that what his Writer told you it said?" Jaimy asked with contempt.

"If you doubt me, why not read it for yourself?"

The arrogant little man held the note out for her. Jaimy took the paper. When Jaimy squinted her eyes to see the letters, the man's grin broadened. He was ready to laugh out loud when she shook her head.

"It don't say no such thing, Morris." The writer's smile faded, "It says to tell any cunt bitch or fagot offspring of Liam to meet out at the water tower to talk truce."

"Bitch!" The Writer hissed.

Jaimy smiled. "I am at that. I'm also Liam's kin. So, run back to your Master and tell him to have his ass on Tower Hill at dawn."

* * *

It may have been a truce talk but Jaimy armed herself anyway. Shotgun, extra bullets, knife, and an automatic with extra clips were all strapped securely to her. She revved the cycle's engine enjoying the feel of the roaring motor under her. Urbanites only used cycles on rare trips outside the city walls. Everything within W Gate Mall was close enough to walk to. The community would not allow waste of gas and oil for convenience purposes.

She could see him waiting on horse back before she turned her cycle onto the crumbling road leading up the water tower. Like his men, Cletus was muscular with tanned and weather skin. Urbanites tended to be on the smaller side, a bit sickly, and pale. Rustlers seemed to revel in the outdoors while Urbanites hid inside their assigned units when not working or fighting off invaders.

His horse held firm when Jaimy skidded to a halt facing Cletus. A light spray of dirt and grass landed harmlessly between them. She cut the engine and climbed off the machine. She wanted to be able to pull a weapon if need be. She waited for him to speak.

"You're kin of Liam?" He asked with a hint of surprise in his voice.

She nodded.

"Kind of scrawny, ain't you?"

She shrugged. Cletus frowned with disappointment when she didn't rise to the bait.

"Any idea why I wanted to speak with kin of Liam?" She shook her head in answer and he continued, "I wanted his heir to see the destruction of all that he built."

A very loud boom exploded in the distance. Jaimy spun on her heels to face back the way she came. Huge plumes of smoke rose from W Gate Mall. Flames shot higher than the fortress walls into the brightening dawn.

"You said this was truce talk!" She shouted turning back to the man.

Jaimy pulled her shotgun free of its holster. Before she could finger the trigger, Cletus' whip lashed around the barrel and snapped the gun out of her grip.

"I guess I lied, you stupid cunt!" Cletus laughed and snapped the whip again.

The lash wrapped itself around Jaimy's right forearm. She saw his spurs jab the horse's side. With thoughts only of survival, Jaimy grabbed the whip tethering her to Cletus with both hands. She held on for her very life as her body hit the ground and started to drag behind the galloping horse.

* * *

The constant pulling on her bloody wrists was nearly unbearable. But, she just couldn't force her battered body to move any faster. Her feet were bared, bruised, and bloodied. They could do no more than the rhythm less steps she was currently inflicting on them.

"I'd hurry up if I were you, Bitch," Cletus shouted at her from the saddle. "Unless, of course, you enjoyed the last ride you got."

He and his soldiers laughed loudly. It was more loudly than the joke deserved if the truth was to be told. However, Cletus was a victorious Warlord so his jokes would get the best laughs and the last laughs.

Jaimy stumbled when she tried to quicken her pace. Her heart raced when she nearly fell. Another drag behind Cletus' horse was not an experience she wished to repeat even though the ground now beneath her looked a bit softer than the city streets.

Many days back, grass had broken through the hard pavement of long abandoned roadways. Today miles and miles of green stretched out before them. The air was clear of smoke and soot. She couldn't remember which day she saw her last building. Instead of the familiar comfort of concrete and steel, they were surrounded by hills. Jaimy knew she was deep in the heart of the rustics. Fear gripped her at the thought.

The sound of a whip slapping flesh and an anguished cry reminded Jaimy she might be lost but she was not alone. Every man, woman and child of W Gate Mall over five and under fifty were tethered in long lines behind her. She had to push back the horrid memories of the Rustlers slaughtering the very old, the very young, and the weak. The screams of the dying would plague her dreams for the rest of her life, she was certain.

"Who knows how long that will be?" She mused. "Maybe only a few more hours? Maybe, if I'm lucky."

"Men! We are home!" Cletus shouted as his horse crested the hill.

Jaimy was relieved the rope binding her wrists slackened. She didn't stop walking even though the horse had stopped. Once she was even with the horse's snout she could see the land beyond the hill top.

Pastures spread clear to the horizon's edge. Finely maintained crops were laid out in seemingly endless squared blocks. Wandering herds of animals moved like one body in corralled fields. Wood and stone homes dotted across the country side.

It was the largest object in view which struck terror in Jaimy's heart. The irony of it was how much she thought she missed the sight of concrete and steel since her capture. One image can change everything she realized. There at the center of the farm lands was an enormous oblong structure. Nobody needed to tell her it was Third Bowl Stadium; home of New Rome.

"Merciful God," she prayed.

Cletus laughed, "He's not going to help you. Actually, nobody can help you now."

Fury overruled common sense and she glared at him. His humor abruptly ended. A vengeful tug on her rope dropped her to her knees.

"You'll learn to mind your manners. You're never to look your Master in the eye!"

Jaimy barely had time to get to her feet before he kicked the horse into a trot. She struggled to keep up. His speed was too fast though. She couldn't manage to stay upright for long. Her pitiful cry echoed across the valley as she was dragged toward the rest of her life.

Chapter 2

Jaimy shivered as another cold wind gusted through the cage. Even with more than a hundred naked bodies surrounding her, there was no warmth to be found in this prison. The sun was an added misery since it provided little heat but brightly illuminated her confines. There was no hiding in a darkened corner from the hopelessness of her plight.

She and her fellow captives were stripped chained hand and foot and left to wait for the auctioneer to order them up for bidding. Interested purchasers strolled around the cage appraising the new stock. Occasionally, somebody would be called over to the bars for closer inspection. The snickers and comments regarding a captive's attributes threatened to up end Jaimy's already empty belly.

Cletus brought them into the massive stadium two days ago. They were processed then divided into the cages surrounding the auction block. The processing consisted of stripping them bare, cauterizing wounds, slaughtering the unfit, and branding the remainder. Little water and less food were doled out to the Urbanites. The Rustlers may have been victorious in their conquest of W Gate Mall but they were not taking any chances; they kept their prisoners bound, weak, and terrified.

"Daddy, Daddy, are those really from a city?" An excited voice asked somewhere near the cage.

Jaimy turned her head slightly to see who was talking. A small boy dressed in rustic clothes was pulling on a tall man's hand while pointing to the cage. The man, obviously a rustic and not a Rustler, smiled proudly at the young boy.

"Yes, they are. Fresh in, I've been told. They've never seen the light of day before, filthy heathens," he replied.

Jaimy was about to turn away when the man pointed at her, "You, you by the bars, COME!"

It was a command repeated often since her arrival. Rustlers and rustics alike spoke that way to her and her people. It was a little funny she had never thought of her neighbors as 'her' people until they were taken from their homes and imprisoned by strangers.

"YOU!" The man snapped his fingers impatiently, "COME!"

Jaimy rolled to her knees. Getting to her feet required pulling herself up by her hands on the cage's bars. Remaining seated was not an option. She learned that lesson the first day from several well placed baton strikes.

Her head spun once she stood straight. She shuffled her battered feet to keep her steps within the limits of the length of chain between her ankles. It took a few falls when she was first fettered but practice does, in fact, make perfect.

"See son," the man began to explain when Jaimy reached the side of the cage the pair stood on, "their skin is so pale because they get no sunshine. They spend all their time in underground breeding. When there are too many of them they start slaughtering women and children for food. Smoke from huge piles of burning bones clogs the air. It's part of the reason they're so stupid too. They don't get enough air to breath. Their brains don't form right. Some of them are so dumb they never learn to speak."

Jaimy heard this particular science lecture several times before. It must have been some time since Third Bowl Stadium hosted the sale of Urbanites fresh from a city. They seemed to be quite the novelty items.

"Are they very dangerous?" The boy asked and shrunk back a step.

"Not if they know what's good for them," the father laughed at his own reply. "Of course, they only learn through rigorous training. They only understand pain and figure out pretty quick what they should and shouldn't do."

Jaimy knew a painful lesson would be coming her way but she could no longer stay silent.

"Yet, somehow we managed to learn it's wrong to teach our children a pack of lies."

The man's face went a livid red. Jaimy smirked and that sent him lunging his arms through the bars. He was fast but Jaimy only needed to ease back a shuffle or two to remain out of reach.

Whistles blew and screaming commands were shouted. Jaimy ignored all of it. Instead, she focused her eyes on the eyes of the furious man on the other side of the bars. She managed to break so many of the new rules imposed on her in such a very short order. However, she savored breaking the looking rule the most. Jaimy was defiant and she wanted them to know it.

* * *

Defiance , Jaimy mused, may just be overrated. Her body throbbed from the beating the guards delivered. They slightly more than subdued her before dragging her out to the public square. A crowd gathered as her arms were force over the top of a metal t - bar. Her body was suspended in place when her wrists were fastened together with a chain barely long enough to cross her belly. Once the guards stepped away, stones and rotting fruit pelted her. Small bruises and wounds soon appeared on her already abuse skin.

"Nothing fatal though," she mumbled. "Too bad."

"Shut it!" The guard emphasized his direction with a sharp baton jab to the ribs.

Jaimy had no strength left to argue with him. She had no desire to fight for herself either after the day's events. She endured several hours of harmlessly lobed sticks and stones. Then Jaimy was left hanging on the cross while her neighbors were sold off one by one. The entire population of W Gate Mall was now property; collared, chained and branded by their new owners.

She wasn't sure what would happen to her. Maybe they planned to leave her hanging here until she died; a miserable death. Allowing herself a careful look to the left, she was able to see several other bodies lashed to similar crosses several feet away. Each had a guard of their own so she imagined they were all alive too.

"Other trouble makers," she kept the thought to herself.

As if he heard her thoughts, her guard abruptly turned to face her. He caught her looking around. She saw a grimace cross his face before she dropped her eyes.

"Your kind never seems to learn," he sounded tired and a bit disappointed.

He drew back his baton to level a hardy blow. Jaimy decided to take a chance. She was going to get hit anyway so what could she lose.

"I'm sorry, sir," she kept her eyes down and said it loud enough for him to hear but not the other guards.

Nothing happened. The baton didn't connect. The guard remained in front of her unmoving. And, Jaimy kept her mouth shut and eyes down.

"Just…um…just keep still and we got no trouble you and me. Understand?" He stepped in closer and whispered.

"Yes, sir."

"Try to get some sleep," the guard sounded very weary himself. "In a few hours, they'll auction you lot off to the Senators for the games. You won't get any rest after that until you die. So, sleep while you can."

"Yes, sir." She barely breathed the next few words knowing she risked irritating the guard, "What are the games, sir."

He chuckled but it was not happy. "The games are where they send stupid ass slaves like you."

Jaimy tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. Whatever these games were, the guard made them sound like the worst punishment possible.

"The war games are played during the month of First Eve, right here in the stadium. Senators field slaves to fight to the death in staged battles. The winning Senator rules the chamber for a year." He was quiet for a moment before he added, "They'll feed and train you which isn't so bad. And, it's about nine more months to First Eve which gives you some more days to live. It's all you're gonna get so deal with it. Sleep now, while there's still time for you to find some rest."

Jaimy didn't raise her head. She didn't want the guard who had shown her a small sliver of kindness to see the hatred which was beginning to take root in her.

* * *

Her cheek was first to connect with the grass. It wasn't as soft as it initially appeared. Jaimy struggled to get up. Her numb arms were useless. Meaty hands grabbed her around the belly and by the hair. She wanted to yelp in pain but her dry throat produced nothing more than a croak. The pain was enough though to get her eyes open and focused.

A small group of well dressed men stood before the auction block. They were looking up and down a young man chained to one of three posts. The auctioneer was pointing out finer details of the man with not so gentle slaps of a riding crop. The man hardly flinched anymore.

Jaimy's escort carried her directly to the auction block. He hefted her this way and that to get her fastened to the center post. She winced when he let go of her and her legs buckled. All her weight was hanging from her shredded wrists shackled to the ring bolt above her head.

"This little spit fire has never been whipped. And, trust me, she needs a good thrashing!"

The men staring up at her laughed. Jaimy turned her face behind her arm. She didn't want to see them leering at her.

"Oh, isn't that cute? Now she's shy!"

The laughter grew. Jaimy closed her eyes to block out as much of her humiliation as she could.

"Girlie! I'm talking about you!" The auctioneer bellowed and shook her by her lifeless yellow hair. "Show the buyers what you got!"

Jaimy tried to glare at her tormentor but he held her face front. She had no choice but to look out at the sea of upturned faces. The men were a well fed lot. Their coloring was not as ruddy as the rustics but their skin got regular doses of sunshine.

"This is an amazing find, gentlemen. Her teeth are fairly healthy. Look," the auctioneer tightened his grip on her jaw. He hissed in her ear, "Open up that hole girlie or I'll let all my guards open up your back hole."

Jaimy quickly opened her mouth.

"That's a good little cunt," he cooed to her.

"Where's the bidding start, Manny?"

"Are they a pair?"

"How worn is her snatch?"

The auctioneer rattled off the answers in rapid succession. "Opening bid is twelve hundred. I'll sell nothing by the pairs. And, come on up and check out the merchandise, Senator Fitzgibbon. I know you like quality cunts and this is fine stuff here."

Jaimy stiffed her muscles. She could do nothing else. Her body was chained in place. Her mouth was held open in a vise like grip. When the buyer approached her she made a few noises in protest but they came out more like whimpers. The men all laughed at her.

"Oooh, that is nice. No virgin but not a whore yet."

Jaimy shuddered with the man's long fingers stabbing into the darkness between her restrained legs. Another whimper broke free from her throat but Jaimy didn't try to fool herself it was in protest. It was the sound of defeat.

Fitzgibbon held his sticky fingers up to her mouth, "Lick them clean."

Jaimy glared at him but her tongue remained behind her teeth.

Fitzgibbon smiled broadly. "Manny, she is in need of serious training. You should be paying us to take her off your hands." He wiped his fingers across Jaimy's breasts.

"Oh, if only life worked like that, Senator."

Fitzgibbon frowned. "We'll just have to see if she sells, Manny."

Fitzgibbon left the stage and returned to his place in the front row. Jaimy recognized the slumped shoulders of the tired guard standing next to Fitzgibbon. She should have recognized them after spending half the night thinking of a hundred ways to drive a knife into them. He glanced up at her and quickly looked away. She saw him cringe before he turned his head.

"Guess he can dish out the punishment but can't stand to see the results," she grimly thought to herself.

The bidding began with a steady stream of words from the auctioneer's lips. Hands rose in response. Shouts increased the amounts. As the momentum dwindled, Manny taunted them.

"A fine cunt like this going for fourteen hundred? Surely, you jest? This Urbanite could tear the heart out your opponent's fiercest fighter with those strong, healthy teeth of hers."

"Maybe we're more worried about our own hearts, Manny!" A voice from the rear called.

The group laughed but nobody raised the last bid.

"Maybe I should pull her off the block?" The crowd was unmoved by his threat. "But, she did meet the minimum so…SOLD! Sold to Senator Fitzgibbon for fourteen hundred."

Jaimy sneered at the man who bought her. He bit his lip shaking his head slowly. He turned to his guard and hushed instructions.

"Nothing good comes now," Jaimy thought to herself as the guard approached the stage.

Chapter 3

Jaimy decided she was mistaken. She believed at one point the tired guard showed her a small glimmer of kindness. She knew now she was wrong. Naked, hogtied and fastened face down with cargo straps in the back of an open flat bed truck was no way to treat another human being. There was no kindness in him when he tugged the restraints tighter. She promised herself she would not make the same mistake in judgment again.

The guard snored heavily next to her. His thigh was right at her nose. The smell was foul but he didn't leave her enough slack to even turn her head from side to side. She felt her stomach lurch as the truck pitched around on the dirt road. Deep breathing was needed to ease her rebellious belly. She decided mouth breathing was in her best interest.

The wind gusted again sending a shiver down the length of her bare body. Jaimy tried to remember the last time she was warm. She closed her eyes searching her memory. Images of being snuggled in blankets in her mother's arms while her grandfather tended a roaring fire filled her mind. Jaimy was just over a fever and her grandfather wanted to keep her from taking a chill. The unit was like an oven. A tear trickled from her eye and down her nose as she realized that night was the last time she was warm and loved and safe.

"No tears," a harsh voice growled in her ear.

Jaimy looked up to see the soldier was awake and kneeling beside her. He slapped his palm across her ass cheek. It was all she could do to keep from crying out at the pain. The brand on her hip was only four days healed and still hurt like rotted tooth.

"Be tough or they'll eat you alive here," he warned after the trucked braked to a stop, "and be quiet or I'll have to hurt you."

Jaimy bared her teeth and snarled at him.

"You'll have to be tougher than that Urbanite," the guard laughed at her helplessness.

Jaimy decided to ignore his comments. She stared straight ahead. Hands started to paw at her to loosen her restraints. She closed her eyes to so she wouldn't see the faces that owned the hands manipulating her bound body.

"Leave her tied. Let's get her out of the truck. Might as well mark her while we've got her down," the guard spoke to those working with him.

Jaimy's mind raced, "Mark her? Again? What the fuck? How many brands do I need? You'd think the giant S on my hip would be sufficient. Sons of bitches!"

The men moving her chatted happily among themselves. She was no more important than a barrel of rocks. In fact, she was probably lighter than one after her starvation diet.

Jaimy's only moment of relief was when they hurried inside a building. It was instantly warmer. The dim light was also a welcome change for her over stimulated eyes. Her handlers carried her down a long hall to a set of guarded double doors.

"Senator's new slave," her formerly tired guard explained. "Is the iron hot?"

"Ready and waiting, Ned," a pleasant voice replied.

"Watch it, soldier. You're still on duty."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

One door opened and the squad hustled Jaimy inside. Quickly the entrance was slammed shut. The group was puffing from their burden with distance taking a toll on them over actual weight. She was unceremoniously dumped to the floor when they arrived next to a work bench.

A knee slammed down between her shoulder blades pinning her to the wood floor.

"Bite this."

"Screw you," she managed to gasp.

"You wish," the guard actually laughed out loud before shoving a leather bit into her mouth. "It's gonna hurt."

He didn't lie. The brand went on clean to her previously unmarked hip. It was twice the size of her first brand which would account for it causing twice the pain. She bit into the leather hard and screamed. The group walked away from her while she wailed in agony. Jaimy knew she shouldn't cry. The tears came anyway.

"Barbarian! Get your ass over here," the guard's familiar voice drifted over her head.

"Yes, sir?"

"Meet your new responsibility."

"Oh, no! You can't be serious! What did I do wrong?"

"Let's see, you cut Rocko in practice."

"An accident; the blade slipped."

"Yep, a dull blade slipped and gave him a six inch gash on his cheek."

"It was a lucky shot accident."

"You knocked out Foozi."

"Come on! That was forever ago. Lately, what have I done wrong lately?"

"You splashed mud on my dress blues four minutes before inspection last Wednesday," the voice was very cold.

"Didn't think you saw me. Does it do me any good to tell you Private Bryant was the actual target?"

"Only if you want him up your ass too. So, I'd shut your mouth and pick up your charge, if I were you. Oh, did I mention you'd be tethered for the first month? You got anything left to say, barbarian?" Silence was his only reply. "Good!"

Jaimy was struggling to stay conscious. The pain was threatening to swamp her senses. She could not understand much of the conversation around her but she gathered she was being handed off to a barbarian.

"Great, just, great," was her last thought when her body was lifted from the floor and hefted over a muscular shoulder.

* * *

Jaimy stared into the pitch blackness before her. She was trying to see something familiar. Any shape or form to give her a clue where in hell she was. Nothing but darkness surrounded her.

"Maybe if I try to remember the last thing I can remember," she thought to herself.

The thought worried her. It was a bit delirious. Jaimy realized she was feverish and knew her mind could easily slip in such a weakened state. Unclear on her circumstances, she was still certain it could be fatal if she didn't figure out very soon what was going on. She tensed her muscles readying for whatever fight might find her.

"Relax."

Jaimy knew that voice. Well, not 'knew' knew but recognized it. It was, at least, familiar.

"Where am I?"

"Oh for the love of God," the voice was exasperated. "If you don't stop asking me that question and go to sleep, I'll break your neck myself."

A moment of silence was broken by a hoarse voice.

"Sorry…,"

"Okay, fine, I give up…again…try to remember this time…you're a captured Urbanite owned by Master Fitzgibbon…you've been feverish since they branded you this morning…which was right before you got chained to me…lucky me…I'm your tutor…again, lucky me…if you ever get your shit together, I'm gonna teach to fight good enough to live through the first four rounds of war games next First Eve…,"

"Lucky you."

"…my thought exactly…,"

"Why's it so dark?" Jaimy thoughts were scattered.

"It's not. You have a cold cloth over your eyes. Leave it there. I'm trying to get your fever to break. They said you were supposed to be some kind of fighter before they captured you," the voice stated more than asked.

"No," Jaimy remembered a flicker of her life. "No, I was good with a gun. But, I'm no fighter."

"Too bad. No guns in war games. I probably won't be able to get you through the first four rounds then." There was a heavy silence between them before the barbarian spoke again, "Hey, you remembered something. You were a little coherent for a minute. Your fever might be breaking."

"That would be a good thing."

"Yep, that's good because up to now you've been a complete pain in my ass."

"So, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Where am I?"

"Cripes almighty! I just told you! Can't you remember anything for even a minute?"

"I remember what you said but where exactly are we? It's warm and dry and no wind. Are we inside?"

"Oh, where exactly are we? Right. We're in the slave barracks. It's on Master Fitzgibbon's estate. Not a bad place, actually. Food's good, plenty of water, warm, dry…,"

"…beatings, brandings, and bindings. What's not to love? I think my fever's breaking. I'm starting to remember more. Maybe you should break my neck. I'm not really positive I want to live like this."

"Too bad. You don't get to make any decisions any more. You follow orders; Master's orders, the guards' orders, and my orders. So, shut up and go to sleep."

Silence fell between the pair again and was unbroken until dawn.

* * *

Jaimy opened her eyes and found a faded blue denim thigh next to her nose. Without moving too much, she looked down the length of the leg to a set of bare feet. Rather large bare feet to be sure but feminine none the less. She noticed her own leg sprawled nearby. Her leg was still bare as was her ass.

Forgetting her own state for the moment, Jaimy resumed her inspection of the body sitting next to her. She let her gaze travel back up the length of a long leg, the curve of a generous hip, over a flat and taunt abdomen capped by firm breasts which were loosely covered by a torn and graying shirt. The woman had her back up against the wall with her head tilted just enough to the side that her collared neck would feel it later. Her mouth hung slack jawed and an occasional snort interrupted deep, peaceful breathing. A thin line of drool trickled from the corner of her mouth. Her short brown hair was washed out from too much time in the sun. The same could be said for her skin which was browning from exposure. Judging by the expanse of the woman's shoulders, Jaimy figured this was the person who carried her; her new tutor, the barbarian.

"Tethered," Jaimy remembered the guard saying.

Around each of Jaimy's wrists was locked a thick leather cuff. However, her wounds had been wrapped in clean white bandages and the cuffs were fitted behind the bulk. Her left wrist cuff's D ring sported a chain. Jaimy followed the links but knew they would end at the barbarian's wrist cuff. Even in her sleep, the barbarian had a firm grip on the chain leaving no slack.

"Shit!" Jaimy let out a hiss of disappointment.

The barbarian startled and snapped her hands up defensively. She was strong enough half asleep to haul Jaimy over her lap.

"Whoa girl, I like the arm in the socket!" Jaimy struggled to reclaim the appendage.

The barbarian shifted from defense to offense in a heartbeat. She floored Jaimy face down. Jaimy's left arm ended up under her with her hand pulled up passed her ear. The awkwardness of the position rendered Jaimy's free hand useless.

"Who the fuck…who the fuck are you?" The barbarian sounded dazed.

"You're a real sound sleeper, ain't you?" Jaimy actually laughed but stopped when the hold got tighter.

"Oh, come on! Wake up, woman! They said you were gonna be my tutor. You said, you'd teach me what I need to know to survive the war games. I ain't gonna be any good if you snap my arm off."

"No, I didn't," her voice was distant. "I never said I'd teach you to survive. I only said, I'd teach you to get through the first four rounds." The pressure on Jaimy's arm increased causing her to whimper before it was freed. "There's a big difference."

The barbarian unwrapped the tangle of chain and arms while Jaimy caught her breath.

"Sorry about that. I always sleep alone now. Not use to waking up with anybody else watching me anymore," the barbarian explained when she settled back into her corner.

Jaimy massaged her sore shoulder. "Maybe you should tell 'em we shouldn't be shackled together. Maybe I could sleep someplace else?"

"Right! They'll be all over that for you. Maybe they should get you a room in the Master's house? Would you like the second floor or third?"

"Look, you don't have to be sarcastic. I just meant it might be better if you didn't kill me before breakfast some morning because you had a nightmare or something."

The barbarian snorted. "It'd only be better for you. If I kill you in cold blood, Master will chalk it up to good practice for me and weeding out a loser, namely you. Better we find out here than in the middle of the games that you suck."

The weight of the words silenced Jaimy. She was nothing; absolutely nothing. Her life was reduced to fodder for a perverse game of chance. She was dumped unarmed into a place filled with vicious fighters refining their killing arts. If by some miracle she lived to see the games, she would most likely be an early fatality to her Master's drive for political power.

Jaimy looked down in an effort to hide her growing hatred. She noticed, for the first time, she was wearing a fairly new cotton top. The sleeves were ripped off but it covered her chest and back well. It was a small provision for her privacy but it made the lack of pants suddenly unbearable.

"My ass is getting cold. You got anything I could borrow?"

That got a throaty laugh. "No, nothing that would fit you. But, these will do well enough."

The barbarian tossed a still blue pair of jeans at Jaimy. She bobbed her head in thanks but kept her eyes her pants. A couple of tugs got them up and buttoned. The material was rough over her new brand but she was grateful to be covered.

"Wow, you are a bitty little thing! Those are boy's and you're gonna have trouble keeping them up, I think."

"They'll do."

Jaimy was anxious to get the topic off her size before the barbarian decided she was too pathetic to teach. Jaimy was short and thin. Fighting with a gun evened the playing field for her but hand to hand battles were a different matter. She needed to get strong, get quick, and learn every dirty trick in the book to have a half of a hope of staying alive to First Eve. The barbarian was the only one at the moment who could help her do that.

"My name's Jaimy. What should I call you?"

The barbarian shook her head. "You don't ever call me anything, little pig! You keep your trap shut and do what I say, when I say. Understand?"

Jaimy obediently nodded her head.

Chapter 4

Jaimy shoveled warm cereal into her mouth in the shade of one of the few trees ringing the exercise yard. She almost gagged on the huge swallow but she forced it down. She winced slightly at the feel of the leather collar strapped around her neck. She swallowed again to get the bad taste of captivity out of her mouth. It did little good to cleanse her tainted palate. Balancing the bowl on her thighs, she used her free hand to grab the water jug. She nearly choked as she chugged the contents.

"Slow down, little pig," the barbarian cautioned as she pulled the water jug away. "You can finish all of it so slow down."

Jaimy eyed the woman sitting next to her. Jaimy was suspicious of the claim and the barbarian. It had been two days of gentle exercising and all the food and water she could take. She was just waiting for them to resume her starvation regimen.

"They're only trying to get me healthy enough to kill me good and slow," Jaimy allowed her mind to race with wild thoughts. "They enjoy the sport of torture, I'm sure of it."

"How are the wrists?" The barbarian asked and took one of the bandaged appendages in hand.

"Fine. Can I eat the rest or not?"

"Another minute isn't a big deal. That bandage can last another day. Let's see the other one." The barbarian claimed that hand for the next inspection. "You heal pretty well. There'll probably be messy scars but you'll have full range."

"At least until First Eve."

The barbarian ground her back teeth before answering. "You can live every day thinking about your death or you can live every day. This is your only life so just live it. And, stop whining!"

Jaimy bristled at her callousness but in her heart, Jaimy knew the woman was right.

"Are you hiding over here?" Ned shouted.

The guard startled the pair. They had not seen him approaching from guard house. The barbarian stood, tugging the chain to get Jaimy moving too.

"Not hiding, sir. Just trying to break her slow. She's got no training at all. Likely to piss everybody off with that wiseass mouth of hers."

The guard tapped Jaimy's chin to get her to look at him. "Wiseass, indeed. Urbanite, a Rustler told me you're a Writer, is it true?"

"The fuck you say!" The barbarian exclaimed. "I thought all Urbanites were too thick to learn words."

Jaimy couldn't tell from the barbarian's reaction what the best answer would be. The guard's features were always benignly tired even when he was ready to strike. His furrowed brow was no help divining if being a Writer was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Does it matter?" She finally ventured.

The back of the guard's hand smashing her cheek told her it did matter. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he prepared to land another blow. His face was still a mask of indifference. He intended get his answer from her regardless of her willingness to respond.

"I am a Writer."

"For fuck's sake!" The barbarian blurted.

The guard grinned. His smile spread from ear to ear.

"Tell no one else. This is absolutely perfect."

Jaimy knew she dared much with her next question, "What's so perfect about it?"

The smile immediately disappeared. He pulled his baton free from his belt loop. Turning it handle first, he passed it to the barbarian.

"Ten to the legs. Be quick about it."

No sooner was the command out of his mouth than the barbarian was swinging at Jaimy's thigh. The hit was hard and knocked her to her knees. The next hit sent her face first to the ground. Jaimy's own arm tugged up when the barbarian drew back for the next swing.

"Your kind never learns," the guard's voice sounded sympathetic but Jaimy knew from prior experience he wasn't.

* * *

Jaimy squinted her eyes as she entered the bright exercise yard. Just as she had done for the past week, she trailed behind the barbarian at almost the limit to their eight foot chain. She kept her eyes down and her mouth shut; just like she was told to do. The bruises on her legs were going from purple to yellow and she wanted to give them more time to heal before her next inevitable beating.

They walked to the farthest corner of the yard. It was a safe distance away from the rest of the practicing fighters. The other hundred or so slaves were paired up but not chained to each other. Jaimy resented their limited freedom almost as much as she loathed being kept on a short leash.

Her feelings must have been evident because the barbarian took pains to keep Jaimy away from the others. In fact, the only human being other than the barbarian that Jaimy stood less than six feet from in the last week was Ned. Jaimy still wasn't sure if the guard truly qualified as a human being.

"Okay, today you're going to build up your strength," the barbarian pointed to four large stone blocks. "Take the pick and make them smaller."

"What?"

The barbarian gave her a push. "You heard me. Get to work."

"How small?"

"Small enough to carry."

"Why?" Jaimy had a bad feeling on where the conversation was going.

"Because you're gonna carry them over to where they're building the new latrines. Gravel makes for good drainage. Stop jabbering and start smashing, little pig."

"Wait, wouldn't it be smarter to break them up over there?"

The barbarian thought for a moment before an evil grin spread across her face. "You know, I think you're right."

"Me and my big mouth," Jaimy thought for the hundredth time.

She was harnessed to the third stone which was destined to be gravel. Every muscle in her body strained as she pulled it toward the other two. She spent most of the morning dragging the first two stones and now was struggling with the third. A sharp snap hit her arm prodding her to move faster. Jaimy snarled in response.

"Now, now, mind your temper," the barbarian chided her and snapped the switch again. "You need to focus. Keep working those lazy muscles."

"How 'bout a hand?" Jaimy managed to say after a particularly big heave.

The barbarian felt her own bicep and replied, "Plenty strong enough over here. It's you who needs the beefing up. Don't want to crowd in on your work out."

Jaimy felt the stone snag again. She leaned her whole body forward to pull the edge out of a rut. The leather of the harness cut deeply into her shoulders drawing spots of blood.

"Crowd away," Jaimy choked out and fell to her knees.

The stone moved several inches.

"That's a fair one there," a deep male voice interrupted them.

Jaimy stayed on her knees trying to catch her breath but looked up to see the man approaching them. He had a slight limp and seemed older than most of the others practicing around them. His tanned, bare chest was marked with more scars than Jaimy could count. Once he was close enough, Jaimy could see the cause of his limp. The man was missing all the toes on his left foot.

"She is at that, Captain."

"Fresh from a city then. Unbroken."

"Yes, sir."

"When her head goes red, we'll start group maneuvers."

"Yes, sir."

The man left them without another word.

"What was that about?"

The barbarian grabbed Jaimy by the shirt collar and pulled her to her feet. A push forward indicated the exercise would continue.

"When you get your first scalp sunburn, we'll start training together. Captain teaches us on how to fight like an army which we'll have to do during the first four rounds of First Eve."

Jaimy started to drag her burden again. "Great now I'm a sun dial. So, what does he know about fighting First Eve?"

The barbarian was quiet for a moment. Jaimy didn't think she'd get an answer.

"He survived six First Eves so far. If anybody knows how to fight and win it's him." The barbarian's voice grew somber, "Just him and me survived last year."

Jaimy spent the rest of the day finishing moving the fourth stone and then breaking the lot of them into gravel. The barbarian didn't hit or yell at her but there had been no reason to dole out punishment. Jaimy silently went about her work focusing entirely on the task. She didn't speak. She didn't look around. She didn't make eye contact. She just smashed big rocks into small rocks.

She was exhausted, hot, and hungry when the dinner bell sounded. The barbarian wasted no time getting them into the food line and then straight to their cool, dark cell. Jaimy was glad to sink into her usual corner with her bowl of meat and rice and bottle of water.

"Good work today," the barbarian said before shoving a handful of meat into her mouth.

Jaimy nodded but didn't stop sucking on her water bottle.

"Keep doing that every day."

Jaimy nodded again but decided to venture a question since her tutor started a semblance of a conversation. "Can I ask you something?"

The barbarian's brows drew together in anger but she gave a short nod of approval.

"What happened to the Captain's foot?"

"He tried to run away when he was first brought here. They caught him. Everybody gets caught. There's no getting away. The Master decided he was too valuable to kill so they fixed him good."

"Fixed him how?"

"They took an axe and chopped off the top part of his foot; toes and all. Don't let his walking fool you, though. He fights like a demon from Hell. I've never seen him fall. He can outrun anybody here." The barbarian shook her head sadly, "Stupid reason to lose toes. There ain't no where to run to. It's dumb to even try."

There was no escape possible and no chance for Jaimy to survive First Eve. It all seemed so hopeless. A wave of anger washed over Jaimy. She ducked her head and stared into her bowl to hide the unchecked emotion.

* * *

"I hate sit ups…," Jaimy thought.

"Seventy five…seventy six…," the barbarian called out the count over her silent but seething charge.

"…I hate sit ups…why doesn't she have to do them…,"

"….seventy seven…seventy eight…seventy nine…"

The one sided conversation continued in Jaimy's head. "Ned caught both of us slackin'… why just me bein' punished…she was sittin' in the shade too…it was her idea…"

"…eighty…wait a minute, that one wasn't good enough…this one is eighty…,"

"What? A redo? Are you kidding me? With a hundred to do she wants all of them perfect…,"

"…eighty one…,"

"Hey, barbarian! How's the bitch coming along? She house broken yet?" A wall of a man bellowed from ten feet away.

His sniveling little sidekick squeaked, "Never mind that. Is the cunt saddle broken yet?"

Jaimy stopped exercising and shot the men a fierce look. The barbarian saw the fury spark in Jaimy's eyes. The barbarian shoved her on her back with a quick kick to the shoulder.

"You still got nineteen to go, pig. It's not a fight you're gonna win so back off!"

"Oooh, she in a snit or something?"

The barbarian didn't spare the huge man with a nasty gash on his cheek a second glance when she replied, "Drop it, Rocko. Walk away. You don't want to be all up in my business again. It didn't work out too good for you last time."

"Aww, what you gonna do? Cut me? That might be hard to explain," Rocko said smugly as he stepped within a foot of Jaimy. "So many accidents against key players by your hand. What you think Master gonna make out of that?"

"Just that you're clumsy."

Jaimy almost missed the barbarian's move. The woman spun and launched a double kick to Rocko's crotch. His pain was so intense he couldn't get breath enough to scream. He doubled over and dropped to his knees panting for air.

"…ninety eight…ninety nine…one hundred…okay…on to weight training…" The barbarian took Jaimy by the arm and lifted her off the ground. The pair walked around the still gasping Rocko to continue their work out. Jaimy did look back in time to see the sniveling sidekick pissed himself.

"You know, if she keeps taking care of that kind of shit then I might not mind doing all the sit ups so much," Jaimy kept the thought to herself.

* * *

"Today you get to try holding a weapon," the barbarian explained like she was talking to a child.

Jaimy trailed after her. She kept her eyes on the ground while they walked through the crowd of slaves milling around. Breakfast was just ending and most of the others hadn't paired up yet.

Once they got to the rack of blunted swords and hollow fighting staffs, Jaimy gave herself a chance to scan the exercise yard behind them. The sun baked dirt was still cold from the winter and hard packed but all manner of rocks and stones were removed. A sixteen foot high wall surrounded the yard. Armed guards were stationed every hundred feet or so. On the north end was the guard house and on the south end was the slave barracks. For the past two weeks, since her arrival, she had searched for some small breach in the barriers but no escape route presented itself no matter how much Jaimy looked.

"On your knees, bitch!"

A couple of dozen feet away from them a scuffle was beginning. A muscular guy with an ugly face was screaming at the young man Jaimy recognized from the auction block. The young guy's face was heavily bruised. He crumbled to his knees and seemed to be begging which only brought down a flurry of slaps from the muscular guy.

"Suck it, bitch!"

The crowd around them started to hoot and shout encouragement.

"Do 'em up the ass!"

"Sausage! Now that's a good breakfast!"

"Need any help, Ralph?"

The muscular ugly guy shouted as he grabbed the young man by the hair, "No, I can handle making a woman out of him!"

Jaimy took an involuntary step forward when the ugly guy shoved his erection into the young man's mouth. An arm around her neck dragged her back two steps.

"That ain't your fight," the barbarian said in a low, deliberate voice.

Jaimy was so angry she was shaking but she knew better than to struggle with her tutor. She stood pressed against the other woman and watched helplessly while the young man was abused.

"It's not right," she whispered.

"Probably not but it is happening and there's nothing for you to do about it. So, pick up a weapon and let's get to work."

* * *

"Don't start swinging until I get closer," the barbarian advised. "This ain't a gun. It don't do damage at a distance. You got to be closer."

Jaimy was already huffing and puffing as she tried to stay two steps away from her tutor. "I let you get closer…you'll crack me…again…,"

"Maybe," the barbarian grinned, "but if you don't let me get closer, you'll never connect. Your arms are too stubby."

"Fuck…you…," Jaimy cursed with false bravado. There was no actual risk in the utterance because the barbarian allowed verbal sparring during fighting practice.

"Yep, you too," the barbarian puckered and winked before smashing the flat of her blunted blade against Jaimy's calf.

"Shit…,"

Jaimy's leg buckled. For the third time that morning, the barbarian had connected hard enough to give her a welt. Jaimy knew the penalty for her failure came next but still resisted the tug on her chained wrist. She stumbled the last few steps and the barbarian back handed her. Jaimy fell in a heap of pain and frustration.

"SLAVES KNEEL!"

All activity in the exercise yard stopped. Every slave immediately got to their knees. The command meant only one thing; their Master was going to inspect them.

Fitzgibbon entered the yard with Ned at his side. The owner wandered between the groups of slaves. Occasionally, he would stop and comment to Ned. Ned would nod agreement before they continued. The two turned and started toward Jaimy and the barbarian.

"So help me, if you do anything that gets me in trouble…," the barbarian mumbled the beginning of a warning with nearly closed lips.

"Soldier, I just don't know about this pairing. The barbarian may be a bad influence on the Urbanite. And, that one is trouble enough. She had behavior issues on the block." The Senator took a deep breath and pointed to the barbarian, "I'm sure I'm going to have to euthanize her if she returns to the stables after First Eve. She's very aggressive."

Ned chewed his lip deep in thought. "Well, sir, your first directive was to assemble a crew that could win. Aggressive slaves are the best way to achieve such an end."

"Oh, no doubt."

The Senator of New Rome agreed then grabbed Jaimy by the jaw. He tilted her face up and down and left and right. Jaimy was sure to keep her lids half closed to avoid eye contact.

"See, look at the damage she's doing in practice. And, this is with blunted weapons. I'm certain her blood lust is boiling. We'll euthanize her if she wins."

"Very good, sir," Ned provided the expected agreement.

"As for the Urbanite, let's keep an eye on the development. Keep them paired if it gets her up to speed. If she gets too wild too fast use her for bait. If she doesn't make progress as expected use her as target practice."

"Very good, sir."

The men strolled to the next grouping chatting as they went. Jaimy stayed on her knees, staring blindly at the ground.

"If she wins, he's gonna kill her," the thoughts kept playing over and over in her head. "He's training her to win. Her life depends on winning but he's gonna kill her anyway."

Jaimy chanced a glance at the barbarian. Her face showed no emotion. Her body was resting calmly waiting to be allowed back to practice.

In a flash of understanding, Jaimy believed she was clear on one thought, "The barbarian doesn't know what euthanize means."

Chapter 5

"Rain. Miserable rain. What a horrible waste of good water," Jaimy thought then ducked.

It was lightly misting all morning but as noon drew closer the clouds grew darker. The mist transformed into pelting rain drops. It teased between driving force and steady fall. Its ceaseless efforts turned the exercise yard's hard packed dirt to a muddy pock marked swamp.

Jaimy jumped to avoid the swinging pole aimed at her ankles. She dreaded the landing. Her feet splashed flat and sank another inch. With no time to pull them free, she ducked her head to dodge the spinning pole heading for her temple. The swinging pole was a heart beat from her legs by the time she was able to jump free. But, splash down was less than perfect.

"Son of a…," the last word was forgotten when her butt hit the mud.

Scrambling onto all fours, Jaimy dove a breath out of reach of the whirling training tool. The barbarian pulled her the rest of the way by the chain connecting them. She swatted the woman across the soggy ass cheeks.

"What was that?" The barbarian shouted. "I didn't even get to two hundred. You got to do better than that."

Jaimy was lying on her side in a mud puddle, panting. "You never get to two hundred. How high can you count anyway? Are you sure it's me not lasting or could it be your math?"

The glib remark earned her a forceful kick from a bare but strong foot. Jaimy had no time to curl into a ball when her shirt front was grabbed. A rough shake snapped her head back and forth before she was pulled nose to nose with an incensed barbarian.

"You don't get to talk to me like that, pig!" Spittle sprayed into Jaimy's wide, horrified eyes. "They gave you to me to either fix or break. I own your ass. You'll respect me or I will crush you! Do you understand?"

All Jaimy could manage was a tiny head nod.

"You get on your feet and get jumping. I'll tell you when to stop! Don't you dare fall again!"

The barbarian stood and tossed Jaimy bodily toward the rotating practice post. Her momentum pulled up short at the end of her tether. She went face down in the mud. Several solid kicks to her thigh and ass followed. The barbarian was still screaming at her.

"Get up or, so help me, I'll nail you to the fence!"

Jaimy scrambled to her feet. She was more terrified of the barbarian than getting whacked by a piece of wood. She leapt back within reach of the poles and began ducking and jumping for all she was worth.

The rain and the barbarian's screaming didn't let up all afternoon. Lunch break was ignored. Rest periods amounted to no more than enough time to gulp a mouthful of water before Jaimy was shoved onto the next exercise. When the guards announced dinner the barbarian negotiated skipping the meal in favor of more training. Finally, when it was too dark to see, the barbarian ordered her charge to stop.

Jaimy was near collapse as she followed the barbarian back to their quarters. Her clothes were soaked through and thick with mud. She was too tired and sore to even think about washing. All she wanted was to sleep. Sometimes Jaimy wanted too much from life.

"On your knees, pig" the barbarian commanded when they entered the tiny cell they slept in.

Jaimy dropped. She didn't think she had any resistance left in her.

"Unbutton my pants."

Jaimy's heart all but stopped. She looked up to see if the woman was joking but a stern expression was etched across her features. Jaimy reached up with shaky fingers and popped the buttons open.

"Eat me."

"No."

The slap was resounding but not unexpected. Jaimy felt her ear drum burst from the force. Her vision dimmed at the edges and she was almost grateful for the pain which was threatening her consciousness. She hit the floor with a soppy thud.

"You will learn to obey," the barbarian hissed.

The woman pinned Jaimy to the floor and straddled her thigh. It was clear the barbarian intended to relieve her needs with Jaimy's body one way or another. Jaimy turned her face away.

"Look at me, little pig," the command was grudgingly met. "You belong to me. You jump when I say. You piss when I say. You fuck when I say and whoever I say." The words were ground out as the woman humped against Jaimy's thigh.

"No! Don't do this. No, don't. Not like this," Jaimy pleaded as she struggled.

"What? You want me to round up some of the others to watch? Is that how you want it?" The barbarian taunted and she found her rhythm.

Jaimy shouted, "You can't do this to me. We're not animals!"

"Oh, yes we are, little pig!"

Jaimy brought her thigh up hard. The connection resulted in a heavy grunt of pain from the woman above her but no respite from the assault. Jaimy decided to use her head and snapped it forward smashing the barbarian's nose hard enough to throw her backwards.

She was stunned it worked. However, her reprieve was short. The barbarian launched herself, bloody nose and all, on top of Jaimy. Large and skilled fists were flying even though the cringing target was getting smaller and smaller huddling in a darkened corner.

"On the bright side, she didn't get around to raping you," Jaimy's thoughts were rueful.

The barbarian was snoring soundly next to where Jaimy sat. Her dreamless sleep indicated no remorse for the violent attack she committed against Jaimy no more than an hour ago. In fact, her mud stained face was so relaxed it seemed almost angelic in the hallway's dim light shining through the thread bare blanket serving as a door.

Jaimy was anything but relaxed. She hurt all over. Her body was peppered with lumps and bruises both old and new. Beyond the pain, she was terrified of what the barbarian would do to her in the morning. Her nervous fingers teased the loose ends of the filthy bandages around her wrist.

Without really deciding to do it so, Jaimy unwrapped the dressing. The wound was meaty raw but looked healed enough to leave exposed. Then she started on the other wrist; the wrist attached to the chain, attached to the barbarian. She carefully unwrapped the muddy bandage to reveal the mangled skin but functioning joint.

The cuff, which had snuggly fit behind the covering, had a great deal of play once the gauze was removed. Jaimy twisted the cuff a bit. It slid over the bulge of her thumb. She used a little more force and it popped over the widest part of her hand. Jaimy barely dared to breathe. She was free of her leash. The barbarian snored on without even an eye lid flutter.

Jaimy did not have a plan in mind when she stood up. Her vision blurred as the room seemed to spin around her. Holding the wall, she focused on the floor to get her bearings. She wanted to get as far from the barbarian as possible. Silently, she moved to the doorway. A glance to the left and a glance to the right found no guards patrolling. One last quick look over her shoulder reassured her, the barbarian was still sleeping. Jaimy slipped out of her cell alone for the first time since her arrival.

"If I can get to the back of the barracks then I might be able to climb up the vent to the roof. Then I might be able to figure a way out from there," she toyed with the idea when she got to the end of the hall. "I'll have to climb up to it but how?"

Her balance was off and she leaned against the stone block wall. She crept into the shadows under the vent. Its slats were loose and hanging in places.

"It's about ten feet up so I'm about half way there," she thought to herself.

A gritty hand clamped down over her mouth. She was pulled back against a hard body.

"Shhh," was all the barbarian hushed before she released her hold.

Jaimy staggered a step or two but the barbarian grabbed her arm. A firm tug drew the reluctant run away back down the hallway she had just come. The barbarian was as cautious returning as Jaimy was leaving. The pair managed to slip into their cell without being seen.

The barbarian pushed the cuff over Jaimy's hand to settle it around her wrist. Once it was in place, the barbarian shoved Jaimy to the floor. It seemed like a repeat of their early foray when the barbarian lay down next to Jaimy and wrapped strong legs and arms around her.

The words were softly hushed in the recaptured woman's ear, "Don't do that again. Now go to sleep."

***

Morning started the same as every other morning of her captivity. A horn blasted to wake the slaves. The barbarian snorted then stretched. Once she released her hold, Jaimy pulled away and stood ready to defend herself. The barbarian looked at her in amazement.

"You gonna start right back up again? Without even having breakfast or taking a piss?"

"Never try to do that to me again!"

The barbarian grinned. "What you gonna do about it?"

Jaimy made the woman a promise, "I'll kill you."

"How you gonna manage that, little pig?" The barbarian asked as she stood to tower over the Urbanite.

"You got to sleep sometime."

The barbarian was silenced by both the statement and the venom in Jaimy's threat. Seeing she had the woman's undivided attention, Jaimy decided to set up some ground rules of her own.

"Hit me as much as you want. Work me until I puke. Kill me if you need to. I won't fight you. In fact, I'll try to learn from it. But, don't you ever try to rape me again. If you do, I'll find a way to kill you. You'll never be able to shut your eyes with any kind of peace again."

The barbarian asked, "You're growing a pair, are you?" She smirked then in an approval of sorts. "Okay, fucking is off the table. At least, as far as I can control. The guards get to do whatever they want to any of us. I can figure out other ways to break you, I guess."

The barbarian extended her hand and Jaimy accepted the shake as an agreement to the limits of her abuse.

***

"You two stink like my grandfather's balls!" Ned stopped the barbarian and Jaimy from entering the barracks with their evening meal. "Eat outside and then get over to the showers to wash up." He grabbed Jaimy's wrist and released the cuff. "Rinse out the clothes too."

"Oh, come on, Ned! We're exhausted. Can't you let us slide tonight? We'll clean up first thing in the morning," the barbarian actually sounded desperate. "Besides, our clothes won't have time to dry."

Ned shook his head as he unfastened the barbarian's cuff. "Tough. You're sleeping naked so stop complaining unless you want me to make sure you're sleeping naked outside."

The barbarian knew she lost the argument. She took her charge over to the showers, gulping dinner as they walked. Jaimy was not looking forward to being naked all night but she was looking forward to getting clean. The mud had dried and caked on her clothes and skin. When she started sweating with her work out during the day, it turned to a wretched, foul smelling slime covering her body.

The showers were three spigots attached to pipes from rain barrels on the roof of the barracks. The sun warmed the water a bit during the day but it cooled rapidly when evening fell. A bar of communal soap and a bristle brush was hanging from the center pipe.

Jaimy didn't need an invitation to take her filthy clothes off. Her shirt peeled over her head sending dried dirt and blood flying. Once unbuttoned, her pants dropped with a soggy splat. She dumped them into a bucked with a scrub board already in it. She didn't look up before she turned to bring the bucket over to the shower head.

"Dump your clothes in here…," the sight before her stole the words from her mouth.

The barbarian was stripped out of her shirt and stepping out of her pants. The woman had her back to Jaimy. Everything Jaimy needed to know about the barbarian was carved into the strong body before her eyes. Bruises and battle scars littered the tanned skin. Whip scars marred the woman's shoulders and ass. Her S brand marked one hip but the opposite leg bore a line of brands from hip to calf. The lowest of the burns matching Jaimy's own brand; DF.

"Dump 'em where?" The barbarian asked.

When the barbarian turned, Jaimy learned the front was no more spared than the back. In addition to lash and blade scars, the barbarian's belly was imprinted with four long claw marks. Her left breast was misshapen and the nipple was missing. Jaimy had no time to mask her emotions. The woman saw the horror on Jaimy's face. The barbarian swallowed hard as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She deposited her clothes in the bucket and went back to take her shower without a word.

Jaimy busied herself with cleaning the clothes first. Her eyes wandering every few minutes to the abuse body a few feet away. Once the barbarian finished washing, Jaimy moved under the listless stream of water. She scrubbed her skin almost as hard as she scrubbed their clothes but she just couldn't get herself completely clean.

The pair wrung out their clothes without making eye contact. Boldly naked and carrying their dripping rags, they entered the slave barracks. Cat calls were shouted from one end to the other but no one was brave enough to approach the barbarian. Once in their cell, the barbarian took the clothes and hung them from the restraining rings drilled into the stone wall.

"You're not gonna try to run away again tonight, are you?" The barbarian asked with a hoarse voice.

Jaimy shook her head no. She settled into her favorite corner without looking up. Her mind was reeling with images of the strong woman being beaten into submission. She had been so obsessed with her own enslavement she never considered what horrors the barbarian endured before her.

"Were you ever free?" Jaimy finally asked.

The barbarian was stretched out on her belly with her face turned away from her cell mate. "Nope."

"How'd you end up here with the rest of us trouble makers?"

"I was uncooperative."

"Do you know the Master is planning on killing you if you survive First Eve?"

"Yep."

Jaimy was dumbfounded. "You know he's gonna kill you! Why do you keep following their orders?"

The barbarian rolled over and faced the confused woman. "As soon as I stop, they'll kill me right then and there. I'm not ready to die. I'm gonna squeeze every day I can out of my life. Every minute I'm alive is another minute I'm not dead. And, little pig, we get to be dead for a very long time. I feel no need to rush to the end."

"Did they ever give you a name?"

"Why would you ask that?" The barbarian laughed at the somber question.

Jaimy didn't laugh. "I want to know what to write on your grave marker."

"No, they never got around to naming me. You'll just have to write barbarian on my marker."

"Too bad," Jaimy said as she turned tear filled eyes toward the woman. "You deserve a name."

The barbarian sat up and moved closer to her charge. She reached out to brush the tears away with her thumb. Jaimy flinched back from the contact. The barbarian continued to dry the tears anyway.

"I don't want to hurt you. I really don't. I just got to break you. You got to obey. If not, they'll be after me for everything you do. I can't fight anybody else's battles anymore. I'm too tired to fight for anybody but me anymore, Jaimy."

"I didn't think you even knew my name," Jaimy said as she studied the face before her. A smile broke free and Jaimy could see just how beautiful the barbarian really was.

"Of course, I know your name. Just didn't want use it and let you to think you're somebody rating my respect."

Jaimy was serious still. She leaned forward and kissed the full lips. With no real coaxing, the barbarian opened her mouth and welcomed Jaimy's warm, wet tongue.

"What about now? Do I rate any respect now?" Jaimy asked.

The barbarian grinned. "Depends. Are we gonna fuck? If we're gonna fuck then yes; respect. If not then…,"

The barbarian didn't get to finish her sentence. Jaimy slid two fingers into the woman's center. She pushed in hard and pumped several times.

"More," the barbarian pleaded.

Jaimy shoved in two more fingers. She had to rise to her knees for leverage. Keeping one hand on the barbarian's shoulder, Jaimy was all but ramming her fist into the moaning woman. She captured the panting mouth with her own and sucked the willing tongue. A tremor shook the long time slave and Jaimy knew her climax was coming. Wrapping an arm around her neck, Jaimy suckled on the barbarian's ear lobe before murmuring.

"You're getting fucked by a little pig!"

The barbarian let out a yelp of excitement at the words. Her eyes were squeezed tightly closed and needy tears streamed down her cheeks. The barbarian's hand grabbed Jaimy's wrist and pulled her in deeper. Her inner muscles clenched trying to drag the Urbanite still further inside.

"More," the barbarian begged.

Jaimy slapped the woman's ass cheek with her free hand. While the barbarian continued to ride Jaimy's trapped fingers, Jaimy took her opposing thumb and firmly planted it into the woman's asshole. The barbarian howled as her orgasm over took her. She shivered and shuddered in the aftermath. Jaimy held her until she quieted then eased her onto her back. She slowly withdrew her hand.

"Please," the barbarian captured Jaimy's cream covered fingers and started to suck them clean.

Jaimy curled up around the sated woman's thigh. While her hand was being thoroughly licked, Jaimy started to hump herself against the strong leg. Her mind flashed with an ugly memory and a terrible thought raced to the forefront.

"She was right. We are animals."

Chapter 6

It was a good hour before sunrise no more than a week after they became lovers when Ned entered their cell. Jaimy had been lying awake but the barbarian was snoring heavily. Nothing ever seemed to bother the barbarian's sleep. Jaimy, on the other hand, only slept for four or five hours before nightmares chased away any potential for dreams.

When she saw the guard she immediately scrambled back into her usual corner. He smirked at her before squatting and putting the bag strung over his shoulder in front of him. Jaimy cringed when he reached out to slap the barbarian's feet. Much to her relief, the barbarian merely snorted herself awake instead of striking out.

"Okay Writer, time to do some work," he said and offered her an envelope.

Jaimy examined the lettering on the front before looking to the barbarian. The woman waited as expectantly as Ned. Jaimy turned the envelope toward the limited light shining in from the hall.

"It's addressed to Senator Goode."

"Open it," the guard instructed.

There was no good alternative so Jaimy did what she was told. The neatly folded paper was addressed to Goode and signed by Fitzgibbon. She wondered if he wrote it himself or had somebody do it for him. The handwriting was finely scripted.

"Well," Ned pressed her.

"After all the polite stuff, it says he wants to share strategies for First Eve. Fitzgibbon doesn't want to be in charge of the Senate anymore. But, he wants to make a lot of money from gambling at the games." Jaimy could feel her anger rising as she read the details, "Fitzgibbon's wants to bet on Goode's team to win and will give our fight plans to her to help make it happen."

Jaimy looked at the guard as she handed the letter back to him. He was not surprised by what she told him. A quick glance at the barbarian relayed a much different story. The woman was bitterly disappointed.

"No chance. No chance at all this year," the barbarian muttered.

The guard shrugged. "It was going to happen sooner or later. Be glad you made it through last year. After all, your last girlfriend didn't even get this far. You still have about eight months to go so make the most of them."

"Fuck you!" Jaimy hissed.

Ned stood and took his baton from his belt. Turning it over, he offered it handle first to the barbarian. Jaimy stiffened as she prepared to take her beating.

"No."

The singular word from the barbarian's lips rang in Jaimy's ears. She looked up to see the guard's reaction and, for the first time ever, she saw real emotion on his face. His cheeks flushed and his nostrils flared like a raging bull. He drew his arm up and leveled a vicious blow to the barbarian's legs. The woman flinched but did not scream out or curl up to avoid the subsequent strikes to her legs and arms. This seemed to infuriate the guard even more. He changed his target and swung one final time hitting the barbarian on the cheek; driving her into Jaimy's lap barely conscious.

"See what happens when you leave me to do the dirty work myself," he taunted her before he grabbed his bag and left.

"What 'cha go and do that for?" Jaimy muttered. "You can't fight anyone's battles but your own anymore, remember?"

Jaimy was massaging the woman's head which was nestled in her lap. The barbarian stirred enough to snag one of Jaimy's hands in her own. She brought the captured fingers to her lips and kissed them. The contact was warm and feather light.

"Not gonna hit you anymore. You don't deserve a beating. You especially don't deserve a beating from me."

Jaimy rolled the woman on her back so she could look her in the eye. The gash on her cheek was not deep but it was purpling. It might even be a black eye by morning.

"What we deserve got nothin' to do with what we get." Jaimy instructed, "You're gonna do exactly what they tell you to do for as long as they tell you to do it. That includes disciplining me. Don't you go think it's all noble to try to protect me just because we screw around."

The barbarian smiled wide making her eyes twinkle. "I don't know what noble is. Hell, I don't even know what it means. But, I do this; you're my woman. Some wind bag, New Roman politician's receipt from buying you don't mean shit to me. You're mine. You belong to me. I'm gonna get us to First Eve and win the damn thing to save you. You can count on it."

Jaimy shook her head sadly. "That so isn't goin' to be what happens to us."

* * *

Jaimy found her center of balance and pulled the arm over her shoulder. A long, muscular body followed to land on the ground with a solid thump. The barbarian breathed out a strained breath.

"Pretty good," she managed to finally speak.

"I think it was better than pretty good," Jaimy laughed as she pulled the unwilling barbarian up. "Come on; let me give it another try?"

The barbarian's brow furrowed, "Why not let me give it a half dozen or so tries? I think I've been flying through the air enough for one day."

Before their friendly argument could begin in earnest, the tired guard called to them, "Divorce time you two!"

"What?" The barbarian was slightly flustered. "A month? It's been a month already?"

"Time flies…," Jaimy mumbled and held out her wrist.

She was more than ready to be free of her tutor. Despite her better judgment, Jaimy was falling in love with the barbarian. The attraction made taking a crap in front of her doubly embarrassing. Jaimy really needed some alone time.

"Yep," he hurried to free them. "And, it is also inspection day. So, get your asses to the parade yard in double time."

"Shit. Sorry. I forgot," the barbarian babbled.

Jaimy had no idea what was going on but followed her tutor. The guard brought up the rear pushing them along. Most of the other slaves and guards were lined up and waiting in neat straight rows. The barbarian headed for the last line but the guard stopped her.

"You're late. First row, slave."

Jaimy had never seen the woman rear up as she did. Fury was written across her face. Her hands clenched into tight fists as she turned on the man.

"What's going on, Ned?" She hissed the question.

The guard was unfazed by her anger, "First row, slave. NOW!"

The barbarian walked stiffly to the front line.

"You too, move it," the guard pushed Jaimy up next to her tutor.

Jaimy could feel the nervous energy pulsated through the barbarian. The woman seemed to vibrate in place. There were a hundred questions Jaimy wanted to ask the woman but here was not the place.

"SLAVES KNEEL!" The guard screamed the command and it was instantly obeyed.

Within moments, the Senator stepped onto the parade yard. Master Fitzgibbon with his entourage of hangers on walked with purpose to the humbled neatly rowed people he owned. The guards remained at attention but the entourage laughed and joked as they followed the man.

Once he passed by Jaimy, she dared to take a deep breath. But, it was a mistake for her to relax for even a moment. Her hair was grabbed in a tight fist and a hand circled her throat and started to squeeze.

"I am a very patient man! I wait until the time is right to act. The time is now right to train an arrogant slave. Guard, take her to the whipping post and lay twenty to her perfect back."

He abruptly released her and tossed her forward. The guard seized Jaimy by the arm and he began to drag her across the yard. She fought back wildly. She managed to break his hold but her freedom only lasted a moment. Two bodies hit her from behind and drove her to the ground. As she struggled, she could hear the barbarian screaming in the background and knew the woman was fighting just as hard. Ned grabbed a fistful of Jaimy's hair when the guards lifted her up. She continued to resist but the three men were able to get her to the post with a little effort. Jaimy knew she was no match for their strength. She was desperate to find a way out of the prescribed punishment.

"Wait, please, wait? Why? Why is he doing this to me? What am I doing wrong?" She frantically asked Ned as he tied her wrists together.

"It's not what you're doing," he clarified, securing her hands to a ring high over her head. "It's what you didn't do. You didn't clean your Master's fingers."

Jaimy was stunned. "That, that…was weeks ago. He's gonna whip me today for that?"

"No," the guard looked very tired. "For that, I'm gonna whip you today."

"Please, Ned, don't do this to me. There must be something you can say to him for me. Please, help me," she was begging but she didn't care. She was too afraid to care.

He stepped behind her and leaned in close. "Oh, there is something I could say to save you." Her heart skipped a beat with hope. "But, I won't."

She rested her head against the cold wooden post and asked in utter despair, "Why not?"

"Because you're just a slave and this is your lot. You better get use to it because it only gets worse from here," he stated flatly before ripping the shirt from her back.

Jaimy couldn't stop herself. She screamed when the first strike fell. She kept screaming until all conscious thought fled her. But, her body continued to jerk mindlessly with every stripe laid until the whipping was completed.

The barbarian had been subdued by the Captain and several strong slaves when the guard took Jaimy from beside her. Their concern for her safety left her with a bloody nose by the time the whipping commenced. They held her on the ground while the lash tore Jaimy's back to shreds. They let her stand after it ended while the Senator used Jaimy's fate as a cautionary tale for the assembled slaves. The barbarian remained rooted in her place after they were dismissed. Her gaze was locked on the senseless body hanging from the whipping post. She rhythmically clenched and unclenched her fists while everybody else walked away. A soft moan on the wind got her running toward the punished woman.

"No, barbarian, no!" The Captain caught her in three steps. "You know they'll cut her down when they're damn good and ready. Now get back to your cell and wait. The most you can do for her is to have water and bandages ready when they bring her in."

The barbarian tore herself free of his grasp. "I'm bringing her in myself. Let them try to stop me."

"You are a fool!" He shouted after her.

When she reached the post, the damage seemed even worse. Blood ran liberally from reopened wounds at Jaimy's wrist and the welts on her back. The barbarian could feel the heat coming off Jaimy's flogged skin. She reached around the woman's waist with one arm to get a hold on her without touching the more severe wounds. Reaching up with the other hand, she loosened the knots binding the unconscious woman to the post. A pitiful cry escaped Jaimy's mouth.

"It's okay, little pig. I'll get you cleaned up. You got practice tomorrow. I'll expect twice as much from you with two hands free to use." The barbarian prattled on in an effort to hold back her own tears.

"What are you doing?" Ned growled as he came up behind them. "Leave her be! Your Master hasn't ordered her cut down yet. It'll be both your hides if he finds out she got off easy."

The barbarian hoisted Jaimy over her shoulder. The beaten woman sobbed but didn't rouse. The barbarian whirled to face the guard who still had blood on his hands.

"You call this easy? Look at what you did to her! Twenty lashes? She might weigh all of a hundred pounds soaking wet and you beat her like she's a wild animal. Look at her! You did this!"

The guard unconsciously wiped his hand on his pants. A fleeting look of guilt was evident in the sudden flushing of his cheeks. The barbarian sensed a chance to win the argument and get back to her cell with Jaimy.

"I'm taking her in with me. If that earns me a whipping then it's well worth it. I hope you can say the same thing for whatever you do next." The barbarian didn't spare him a moment more. She turned and headed to the barracks.

* * *

"Why did I ever want to be warm?" Jaimy thought to herself. "What I wouldn't give to be in the middle of a snow bank right now."

Her back was on fire. The brutalized skin pulsated with a life all its own. Beneath a layer of simmering flesh, traumatized muscles ached like no other hurt Jaimy had ever felt.

"Why can't I die?"

"Not your time," the barbarian answered before drizzling cool water over Jaimy's shoulders.

"Did I say that out loud?" Jaimy was momentarily distracted by the unintended conversation.

"Yep. You've said quite a few things out loud, in fact."

"Like what?" Jaimy cringed when the cool rag dabbed a particularly bloody welt in the middle of her back.

"Oh, like how you're gonna kill the Master. And, if I don't stop treating your wounds you're planning on breaking my fingers. Then there was the ever popular, you'd like to tie Ned to the post and see how long he lasts. You hate me." The barbarian sniffled, "You love me."

"Crying?" Jaimy craned her neck in spite of the pain. She saw the barbarian's eyes were puff and red. "Are you crying because I hate you or because I love you?"

The barbarian pushed Jaimy's head back down and continued tending her. "Neither. I'm crying 'cause this is such a waste of soft skin. Stupid. There are so many better ways to teach you a lesson."

"Should have given them a few suggestions earlier. I would have waited while you thought of something." Jaimy felt her energy slipping away under waves and waves of agony. "You'll have to content yourself with the soft skin of my ass from now on."

In the haze before she passed out, Jaimy heard the barbarian warn, "Oh, they'll surely ruin that too."

"Come on, little pig, time to wake up," the barbarian said softly while lifting Jaimy into a sitting position.

Jaimy started crying before she got her eyes open. "No, no, no! It hurts. Please, no."

"Shhh," the barbarian put her hand over Jaimy's mouth. "You got to be quiet. The morning horn hasn't sounded yet. Now listen to me. You got to get up. You got to walk out to the exercise yard this morning. It's the first day of group training. You got to stand there and let the Captain assign you to me. Soon as he does, I'll get you settled under the tree and you can sleep in the cool grass all day. I promise. But, you got to get moving now!"

Jaimy was trying to swallow down her sobs. She was listening to everything the barbarian was saying. She could hear all the words. Still, she had no clue to what was being said.

"Hurts," she managed to blubber.

"I know. Trust me, I know."

The barbarian sat next to Jaimy. She let Jaimy's left shoulder lean against her chest while she tried to dress the injured woman. She pushed Jaimy's hand through a shirt sleeve and prepared to pull it up to her shoulder.

"Oh God, no! No, shirt. Please! My back," Jaimy gasped when she realized what the barbarian was about to do.

"You going topless?" The barbarian questioned in disbelief.

"If I have to get up, I'll do it but no shirt. Can't take the thought of anything touching my back."

The barbarian bit her lip before responding. "Okay, no shirts." She balanced Jaimy against her leg while she slid her own off. "Neither of us will wear shirts. Who knows, maybe we'll start a fashion trend."

Jaimy shuddered and replied, "Today's look for the flogged woman? I hope it's not a popular trend."

"In our circles, it will be," the barbarian stated with certainty. "Here we go, girl. I'm just gonna stand you up. Try not to scream. It'll wake everybody else up."

"Oh, I'd hate to disturb…," Jaimy's flip remark was halted when the barbarian jerked her to her feet.

"Hey, pretty good. You didn't scream." The barbarian was proud for a moment then the woman in her arms went limp. "Fucking passed out? Give me a break, will you?"

The barbarian decided to half drag, half carry Jaimy to the door of the barracks. Moving might help revive her. If not, she would, at least, be closer to where she needed to walk to.

"One step. Next step. Two step. Next step. Six step. Next step. Eight step. Next step. Five step. Next step. Three step."

"I knew you couldn't count!"

Jaimy woke enough to hear the un-sequenced count. Each step sent a jolt of pain across her ruined skin. She dug her fingers into the barbarian's hip. She was hanging on for all she was worth. Beads of cold sweat formed on her brow and began to trail down her face and over her flushed cheeks.

"This is so bad even my hair hurts," Jaimy moaned.

"Nope, your hair hurts because you got your first scalp burn yesterday. Think of it as adding insult to injury."

"Great, just great."

The horn blasted to wake the slaves. It startled Jaimy enough to lose her footing. The barbarian tightened her grip to keep her upright. A groan was followed by Jaimy stiffening.

"I think I can stand by myself." Jaimy shook her head a bit to clear her thoughts, "Correction, I think I better stand by myself or you might break me in two."

The barbarian blushed. "Too tight?"

Jaimy managed to nod. She locked her knees and straightened up. There was a moment of swaying when the barbarian let go but no falling down or passing out. Jaimy wrapped her arms around her belly and took a small step.

It was more of a shuffle than a true step. Regardless, the movement brought her inches closer to the barrack's door. Forcing the other foot in much the same manner, Jaimy crept forward again. She shut every other thought out to focus on getting one foot to follow the other.

The door was open. Sunlight was beginning to brighten the exercise yard beyond the threshold. Jaimy kept moving her feet toward the daylight.

"How many days has it been since I started this trip?"

She wasn't sure the words were spoken out loud until she heard laughter behind her. It surprised her that more than the barbarian's voice responded to the joke. Jaimy wanted to look over her shoulder to see who else was there but she knew she'd lose her balance and fall over.

"What's taking all of you so fucking long?" Ned entered the barracks screaming.

Jaimy stumbled. Strong, familiar hands caught her. The pain was sharp, sudden, and blinding. She couldn't hold in her shriek. It was almost worth the suffering to see the look of pure terror on Ned's face when she was finally able to right herself. She had no idea what frightened him so much. She was just glad something did. The guard retreated. He bumped his way out the door with Jaimy trailing by only a few feet.

When she walked over the threshold, the cold morning air embraced her tortured flesh. Jaimy shivered a bit but felt revived by the chill. She continued her journey to her usual spot for line up and noticed the exercise yard was empty except for the guards. Each grim faced guard stood with their weapons ready.

Jaimy stopped in her tracks. She was at a complete loss for what was happening. Were they going to execute her today? Did the Master decide a whipping wasn't vile enough payback for her snub?

She turned around slowly to ask the barbarian what was going on. Her brain fumbled trying to make sense of the scene she saw. Every slave from the barracks was standing in neatly formed lines behind her. Their faces were creased in anger. Most had removed their shirts. They, in every sense of the words, had her back.

"Captain," Ned shouted. "You better get this mob under control or we will!"

Jaimy turned to face front but missed most of what the Captain explained. She was sure the grin on her face most likely looked like a grimace but she knew pure joy at that moment. Ned and his armed guards feared the gang of angry but unarmed slaves. And, they were right to be afraid. The slaves' collective anger united them in a way no training could. They found a common hatred to bind them together. They hated their lot in life. They hated their oppressors.

Jaimy found the strength to smile.

Chapter 7

Jaimy's arms were being stretched high over her head. She groaned in pain as the tight, healing skin on her back pulled taunt. Instinctively, she pushed up on to the tips of her toes to shorten the reach. Her reward was being tugged up even higher.

"Breathe in deep," the barbarian instructed.

Jaimy buried her face in the comfort of her tutor's well known breasts. "Can't."

"Sure you can," the barbarian encouraged and pulled Jaimy's arms a little higher. "Big breath in."

Jaimy complied.

"And, hold it," the barbarian held her still. "And exhale."

As Jaimy let the air out, the barbarian lowered her arms. Jaimy's body trembled in relief as the skin and muscles relaxed. She let the barbarian continue to move her while she kept her focus on standing straight.

The aftermath of the whipping was almost worse than the initial strikes. As her body healed, the muscles and skin of her back tightened. Even small movements hurt. The barbarian insisted on ranging Jaimy's arms starting the second day after the beating.

"At least, I don't scream like I use to," Jaimy muttered.

"You're doing great," the barbarian praised her but continued to exercise Jaimy's stiff body. "Not even two weeks out and you're almost ready to go hand to hand with me."

Jaimy sucked in a gasp when her hands were arced up over her head again. "Just don't dump me on my back any time soon."

The barbarian gave a soft chuckle. "I only want you on your back to suck your pussy."

"Such a way with words you have."

"What are you trying to say? You don't want me sucking your pussy?" The barbarian teased.

Jaimy chuckled in spite of her pain. "I better shut up before I talk myself out of a great fuck."

"Great?" The barbarian questioned in a hushed whisper. "Do you think I'm a great fuck?"

Jaimy needed to control her breathing again as her arms were raised up high over her head. She fought her instinct to hold her breath. She dragged in a big gulp of air, held it briefly when the upward arc stilled, and then exhaled on the downward motion.

"No, I don't think you're a great fuck." She heard the barbarian snort a laugh expecting a joke to follow the comment. "You fuck me great. But, I think you're the love of my life."

The barbarian stopped laughing. Jaimy kept her face buried against the woman's chest. Jaimy was afraid to look up after professing her love for her tutor. With as much as they had been through together, Jaimy wasn't sure how the barbarian would respond. Soft kisses to the top of her head were a tremendous relief for Jaimy.

"I don't know what love means," the barbarian's voice was husky, "but I do know I never felt what I feel for you with anybody else. So, if that's love then you are the love of my life too."

"Close enough for me," Jaimy gazed up and met the barbarian's lips with her own. "I love you, my barbarian."

"I love you too, my little pig."

* * *

"First line up then thrust, first line down, second line up then thrust, second line down, first line up then thrust," the Captain shouted.

Two lines of thirty slaves abreast followed the instructions with varying degrees of precision. The first line thrust clubs forward at an invisible enemy then dropped to one knee allowing the second line to advance, thrust and drop to a knee. Then the first line would repeat their initial movements. The strategy was to present a solid line of fighters constantly encroaching into their enemy's territory.

Jaimy was in the first line. The barbarian was at her back. They moved seamlessly from one position to the next. Even with the tight confines of the formation, they always managed to sidestep each other. Not every pairing of slaves was as graceful.

"You stupid shit eater!" Ralph, the muscular ugly guy, shouted at his much abused partner.

Jaimy turned her head in time to see Ralph stumbling to the ground. His foot apparently got tangled in the rags the young slave was wearing. Ralph jumped to his feet seething in anger and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry…," the sob for mercy was cut off when Ralph slammed his club against the young man's head.

Jaimy felt her blood run cold when the young man collapsed to the ground unconscious. Blood flowed freely from a large gash across his hair line. Ralph raised his club to level one last blow. Jaimy moved without thinking. Her club made a solid connection with the back of Ralph's head. The stricken man toppled forward. He was dazed but began to struggle up to his feet.

"Son of a…," the barbarian was cursing when she pulled Jaimy back by the scruff of her neck. "What was that?"

Jaimy realized only then how much trouble she was in. There were rules about striking other slaves during practice. There were even stricter rules about striking tutors. Jaimy just earned herself a punishment and the barbarian would be the one required to dispense it.

"If you're gonna hit an asshole then you better be sure he ain't getting up ever again." The barbarian took her own club and hammered it repeatedly against Ralph's skull until it cracked open.

"Shit," was the last word out of Jaimy's mouth before the guards tackled both of them.

* * *

"You okay?" The barbarian strained to form the words in a bloodied and swollen mouth.

Jaimy nodded her head slowly. She could not answer through the leather muzzle strapped tightly to her face. Both she and the barbarian had been pummeled by the guards before being dragged back to their cell. They were shackled to the restraining rings on opposite walls to await their Master's decision on their fate. Ned felt the need to exercise a small bit of extra cruelty with the muzzle. It was not only keeping Jaimy silent on what might be the last night of her life but it was preventing the lovers from comforting each other.

"I'm not sorry I killed him," the barbarian mumbled. "I just wish I got to him before you did. Then maybe only one of us would be strung up for murdering the fucking bastard."

Jaimy shook her head no. She tugged on her chains in a useless effort to reach the muzzle. She desperately wanted the barbarian to know she was sorry she got them into this mess.

The barbarian gave a lopsided smirk. "I wish Ned had given me one of those gags for you in the beginning. I might have gotten more sleep."

Jaimy glared at her lover.

"You're even sexier when you're quiet."

Jaimy growled to show her displeasure with the current direction of the conversation. The barbarian laughed a little.

"You know, I think I'm starting to understand the love thing now. I think it means doing something really stupid and not regretting it because you want to be with the other person so very much." The barbarian lowered her voice as the sound of boots hitting the floor approached. "I don't regret anything about you, Jaimy. The only thing I regret about us is how little time we've had together." The barbarian hardened her features when she saw tears welling in Jaimy's eyes. "No! Do not cry! Don't you give those sons of bitches the satisfaction of thinking they can hurt you. They can't hurt you. They can't hurt us. Nobody can hurt us unless we let them, little pig. Nobody!"

The barbarian fell silent when Ned entered the cell. He spared Jaimy a passing glance then fixed an infuriated glare on the barbarian. For her part, the barbarian lowered her eyes as if ashamed but the smirk on her face in no way appeared to be contrite. Senator Fitzgibbon entered the small cell and immediately turned his back to Jaimy. He studied his beaten barbarian slave for a few moments before giving a tight grunt. A dissatisfied sniff followed.

"Filthy creatures, this ignorant lot of mine is. The whole barracks reeks of stinking bodies. Tomorrow, I want it aired out. Have the fools cut holes in the roof for better ventilation. If it gets a little wet, a little cold that'll be their problem then, won't it?"

Ned nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Now, explain to me again why I shouldn't order this barbarian cunt dragged to death over smoldering coals?"

Jaimy's eyes went wide with her Master's seemingly rhetorical question. However, the barbarian was unflinching. She appeared to have expected nothing less than a grisly death sentence from their owner.

"Senator, I agree her behavior needs a firm response. She's more than earned execution. My only worry is the financial fall out of inflicting the punishment. The betting line for First Eve could suffer. Without the barbarian and the Captain in your stable, the line setters might get nervous about your chances. In fact, losing this one alone could be enough to rattle your odds. It could even make you the long shot to win."

Fitzgibbon's back went rigid. "Senator Goode's crew is the long shot at the moment. I want it to stay that way." Fitzgibbon reflected on his options for a moment. "Okay, killing and disabling the bitch would only hurt me in the long run. We can't allow for that to happen. I've already suffered enough. But, she cost me a strong back. She needs to pay for that."

"Sir, if I might make a suggestion?" Ned questioned and waited for the Senator to nod his approval. "The dirty dozen."

The barbarian flexed her hands into her fists but provided no other response to the recommendation.

"Fitting. Okay, good call, Ned. Round up some strapping men to teach her a lesson she won't soon forget. But, kill this one," Fitzgibbon instructed as he tossed a careless thumb over his shoulder at Jaimy.

"NO!" The barbarian shouted and pulled hard against her chained wrists.

"Shut it!" Ned screamed back at the barbarian but slammed his baton into Jaimy's gut.

Fitzgibbon snorted a light laugh watching one slave panic and the other try to force a muted scream through her leather muzzle.

The barbarian started to sweat while she pleaded for Jaimy's life. "Please Master, it's not her fault. I told her to hit the son of a bitch. I was testing her, seeing if she could kill. Testing if she would kill for you. She still needs some work but she hit him pretty good, don't ya think? I almost didn't need to finish him off. A bit more practice and she'll be killing them left and right on First Eve for sure. You shouldn't punish her for just obeying. The others might get worried about obeying the Captain if you kill the Urbanite 'cause she obeyed me."

Fitzgibbon raised his hand to hold off Ned from leveling another strike to Jaimy. He fixed his attention on the barbarian. He smiled thinly at her but he was far from happy.

"Such concern for a little cunt bitch. What do we have here, a love match?"

The barbarian's fears showed plainly on her face as she stuttered her reply, "I…I just want…don't want…I don't want you…you to lose…you know, a good player…,"

Fitzgibbon laughed. "Is it me you don't want to lose out on a good player or you to lose out on a good fucking?"

"Master's making sure barbarian's gonna get a good fuckin' now, isn't he?" The barbarian countered bitterly without thinking the comment all the way through.

Any trace of humor left Fitzgibbon's age narrowed and weathered face. "I believe you were begging me for a favor a few moments ago and now you're going to get pissy with me."

"Sorry Master," the barbarian realized her error and renewed her pleas for forgiveness. "Barbarian's just a stupid, ignorant cunt. Don't know how to please Master best. Punish barbarian cunt but, please Master, be merciful and leave the little cunt bitch be 'cause she only did like she was told to do. Bad to punish slaves for obeying. They stop doing and start thinking. Bad for slaves to think. Please, Master, mercy for little cunt bitch, please."

Fitzgibbon studied the woman chained to the wall. She averted her gaze and did her best to appear helpless as she awaited his decision. He knew she was far from weak. However, her feelings for the Urbanite slave made the barbarian more vulnerable than ever before. Fitzgibbon liked the thought of humiliating the barbarian with her own emotions.

"Ned, the little cunt bitch will watch the barbarian's punishment. Maybe the Urbanite slave will learn something the easy way instead of us beating it into her. Leave the pair of them strung to the wall for the night. From here on out, keep the barbarian on a tight leash. I want her to take her licks for every infraction regardless of how minor it may appear to be. She should rack up about ten a week, don't you think?"

"With her attitude, absolutely."

"If she runs short on earned stripes during the week then be sure to make up the difference every Friday night. As for the little cunt bitch, keep her muzzled. It only comes off for an hour a day. That should be ample time for meals and washing."

"Senator, she'll need more water than that especially going into the summer heat."

"Good point. You're always planning ahead, Ned. Here's what you do; punch six holes in it, about the size of a pen tip. Those should be big enough to get water into her between meals," Fitzgibbon said and then turned to face Jaimy. Unrepentantly, she looked him in the eyes. "Yes, a real trouble maker, this one is. The power of speech just makes her more of a nuisance. If the muzzle isn't effective enough we may need to cut her tongue out but let's try this first."

Fitzgibbons walked out of the cell without another word. Ned stepped closer to Jaimy. His nostrils were flaring in anger.

"You fucking cunt!" He hissed. "You almost screwed up everything I've been working for! So help me, I'm gonna make your life a misery. If you think you've been saved, you're more than wrong. I'm gonna make you wish you were drawn, quartered, roasted, and fed alive to the dogs!" He didn't back away before he screamed out, "Get me the twelve biggest slave cocks in here on the double!"

Jaimy heard guards outside the cell scramble to complete the directive. Her attention snapped back to Ned when he tore open her pants. He shoved three of his thick, stubby fingers into Jaimy. In spite of her effort to be stoic, she groaned and flinched at the intrusion.

"Ned, don't…," the barbarian began but was interrupted by three large, male slaves being pushed into the cell.

"Alright, two of you asswipes grab the barbarian's legs and get her pants off then hoist her knees up over your shoulders," Ned instructed but never turned around to watch. "Whoever's left, fuck her up the ass. Do it hard. Make her feel it. Once the first prick finishes, switch places. Be quick about it. There are twelve of you needing to ram her. I haven't got all night for this crap." Ned sneered at Jaimy, "Get it? Crap? Your big bad bull dyke bitch is gonna be shitting bloody crap for a week!"

Jaimy muttered at him from behind the muzzle.

"Oh don't worry," Ned promised as the barbarian screamed from the first penetration, "I'm staying right where I am until the final cock crows, so to speak. Then I'm gonna put my dick where my fingers are. We'll finish up tonight with you squealing like the barbarian's good little pig!"

Chapter 8

Jaimy's head hung forward. She did not have the strength to hold it up any longer. It had been hours since Ned finished supervising the prescribed penalty for Ralph's murder. She managed to remain upright during the barbarian's multiple violations and her own rape. Jaimy focused on denying Ned the satisfaction of seeing her crumble under the weight of the punishment her Master ordered or the pain of Ned's self-righteous violation of her body. Her newly constructed tough shell meant unflinching resolve in the face of the barbarian's unanswered pleas for mercy. Jaimy had to steel herself against the onslaught of her lover's sobs for Jaimy's help.

“Just a sound, a little peep,” the barbarian begged again and again while her ass was relentlessly skewered. “Jaimy, I need to know you're still here with me.”

When the foul deeds were done and Jaimy received her own version of comeuppance from Ned, she stood like a stiff backed sentry keeping watch over her tortured barbarian. The brutalized woman was left hanging helplessly in her shackles, drifting in and out of consciousness. The muzzle prevented any means of comfort a whispered word could provide so Jaimy didn't even try to voice a strangled sound of support. She directed all her energy into staying on her feet and not slumping in her chains in utter anguish even though her heart was drowning in despair. But, the long hours and pain took a toll on Jaimy and her head finally lolled forward in complete exhaustion. To her credit, her knees remained locked and she stayed standing.

“Hey Urbanite, can't I leave you two alone for a moment without you finding some mischief to get into?”

The low rumbling voice instantly snapped Jaimy back to wakefulness. She snorted a gasp of air through her nose dragging in yard dirt from her uninvited guest's clothes. Her sneeze was squelched when the Captain pinch her nose closed. The pressure of the aborted sneeze threatened to pop her eyes from their sockets but she managed to blow a big breath or two out of her leather bound mouth.

“Here's the plan,” he whispered in her ear. “I'm gonna let you down first. Then you help me get the barbarian settled. We'll patch up anything serious but the little stuff has to wait for morning. Once we're done, I've got to hook both of you back up to the wall. We got a deal? You'll do what I say and get back on your chain when we finish with the barbarian? No complaints or fussin' or grief for me?”

Jaimy nodded agreement without a second thought.

The Captain eased away from her a bit to look at the state she was in, “Sorry, but we can't do nothin' for you tonight. I don't think Ned is finished with you yet. He'll get suspicious if you ain't like he left you.”

Jaimy nodded again only somewhat grimly this time with the thought of her continued torment in the morning.

“Okay, we got a deal. Remember, what they did to you two last night can be extended for weeks on end if Ned figures out I've helped the pair of you,” he hushed as he pulled a thin and jagged piece of metal from his pants' pocket. “And, I won't bore you with what he'll do to me if he catches me interfering again in the ‘big picture' of his.” The Captain made little air quotes with his fingers as he said the last two words.

The Captain fiddled with Jaimy's fetters for a few seconds. Her right wrist released with a sudden click, which made both of them freeze. The barracks remained quiet; save for the usual noises associated with seventy-two sleeping slaves, so the Captain began to work on Jaimy's other wrist. It was quickly freed as well.

Jaimy shook her arms out but didn't wait for feeling to return to her numb hands. She hurried to the barbarian's side. Forcing her body under the slumped woman's shoulder, Jaimy used her small but strong frame as a crutch like support. She linked her arms around the barbarian's waist and hoisted her up to her feet. The resulting whimper broke Jaimy's heart but not her resolve to remain stoic.

The barbarian had seemed completely unaware of the activity in the cell. That was until Jaimy touched her. Once their skin made contact, the barbarian turned her head with still shuttered eyes toward her lover. She did not cease her movements or moans until she found the Urbanite. The barbarian sighed as she lowered her brow to nestle into the safety of Jaimy's shoulder.

“My little pig, I figured you were here all along,” the barbarian muttered before completely surrendering to unconsciousness again.

Jaimy and the Captain worked with detached efficiency to treat the barbarian's most horrendous wound. Cool, wet compresses to her tortured ass brought shivers to the barbarian's body but did nothing to pull her back to consciousness. The Captain appeared skilled in treating the injury. Jaimy tried not to think about how he had learned this particular healing art. Instead, she cradled her lover on her lap hoping being close would do the woman some good for the massive unseen damage the barbarian was suffering.

“A little something to be happy about,” the Captain spoke softly. “They didn't manage to turn her insides out. Once the swelling goes down, she'll be all right enough. She'll be sore, of course, but she will get better. At least, her body will mend itself. Her heart will need you to survive what's happened here tonight.”

Jaimy flinched at the statement. The Captain saw the reaction.

“You have to keep standing up good and tall like I saw you doing when I came in. You tough this shit out. The barbarian will follow your lead. She'll want to be strong for you.” The Captain gave a small shrug, “It won't hurt you none either to pretend this didn't bother you much. If they think you don't care they might just beat you from here on out. Hell, who knows, some day you might even believe the lie yourself. If not, pretending will at least get you through tomorrow. That's all any of us can really do in life; get through tomorrow. And, that's all I can do for you and I've done all I can do for her as well. Help me hook her back up.”

Jaimy used infinite care in positioning the barbarian against the wall. She held the limp body firmly in place while the Captain refastened the chains. The barbarian showed no indication she was aware of any of their efforts.

“Now you,” the Captain whispered in Jaimy's ear.

She turned without hesitation and walked to the opposite wall. Lifting her arms wide, she waited for the Captain to reapply her own shackles. He was calm but efficient in his movements. Time was growing short. The sun was beginning to gray the night sky. Soon the guards would come and a new day to endure would begin.

“You be a tough little cunt bitch!” The Captain murmured in her ear once chains were locked. “You don't let those fuckers beat you down. They can't take nothing from you that you really want. They can't fucking hurt you! You be tough! You make her be tough too! You keep both of you alive or,” his voice broke with a short sob, “I'll kill the two of you with my own hands to put you out of your misery!”

With that, the Captain planted a fierce kiss to Jaimy's forehead. He held her close for a moment and then pulled himself away without giving her another look. Gathering the evidence of his first aid, the Captain scurried out of the cell managing to stay one-step ahead of the guards whose foot falls were echoing down the hall from the entry way.

The first guard to enter the cell was Ned. He did not look so good even in the shadowy predawn light of the barracks. His eyes were bloodshot and bags hung from the lower lids. His uniform was soiled in more than a few places from the events of the previous evening. However, the sour smell of vomit clinging to him seemed to be the most offensive element of his presentation for the guards trailing more than their usual pace behind him.

Jaimy glared at him with all the hatred she could muster on such short notice. He paled when he saw her venom. She was surprised he turned away from her unspoken accusation.

“Let the Urbanite down first,” his voice was hoarse. “She'll be better able to see to the barbarian. Hurry up, you damn fools! I haven't got all day.”

Jaimy watched the men scramble to obey. Once her wrists were released and she took a moment to zip her pants closed. She half-expected Ned to demand she leave them undone for his convenience or remove the pants entirely but he did not. Another part of her started to realize the punishment inflicted the previous evening was an unanticipated double edged sword. Ned was a guilt stricken victim of his own crime against Jaimy.

“Good,” Jaimy thought to herself as she went to the barbarian's side.

The guards released the barbarian and helped Jaimy lower her to the cold stone floor. The barbarian moaned pitifully but did not rouse. Jaimy knelt over her stroking the woman's clammy cheeks. She was relieved the barbarian did not wake enough to babble a question or two revealing the previous care provided.

“Get water, bandages, some food, move it,” Ned barked the orders as he stepped behind Jaimy.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair pulling her up to the full height of her knees. She closed her eyes waiting for whatever he planned to inflict on her next. His fingers fidgeted but finally managed to release the buckles of her muzzle.

“You got a half hour now then fifteen minutes at noon and fifteen minutes at dinner. I'm gonna punch some holes in this so you can still drink in between meal time,” he mumbled as he lifted the leather gag away. “Make the best use of your time.”

Jaimy didn't wait for him to finish talking. She leaned down to the barbarian as soon as she was free of the torturous device. Her lips brushed against the barbarian's own. A needy whimper sounded when Jaimy broke their contact. Again, she lowered her mouth to the barbarian's and was welcomed with parted lips and an eager tongue.

“Knew you were with me,” mumbled the barbarian when they stopped for air, “knew you wouldn't leave me.”

Jaimy needed to clear her throat twice to get enough voice to reply, “Never. I'll never leave you.”

“You're still expected at training after breakfast,” Ned said.

Jaimy sneered at him over her shoulder, “Of course we are.”

She didn't wait for him to reply. Nothing he could say or do could sway her from the task resting in her hands. Jaimy returned to comforting the barbarian's battered mouth with feather light kisses.

Chapter 9

Jaimy realized she was slowly waking up. Sleep was slipping away like petals off a dandelion caught on a gentle breeze. She snuggled in closer to the warmth of the body next to her. Her reward was a soft squeeze in the ever present embrace of her barbarian.

This darkness before the dawn was becoming Jaimy's favorite time of the day. She guessed it was early summer by the mild weather and longer daylight hours in which they drilled. The mornings were just cool enough to be comfortable without being chilly. It was not much for amenities but it was enough to make their tiny cell seem tolerable.

Of course, the fact that the barbarian was waking early with Jaimy was an added bonus. Immediately following their torture by Ned, Jaimy worried they would not be able to enjoy the beauty of an act fouled into a punishment. Love, like water, managed to find its own level between them and they were able to heal one another one night at a time. They saved these moments for just each other. In the dark and quiet, they could pretend they were living an endless night. For an hour or so, it was only the two of them sharing the one thing they still dared to call their own; love.

“Little pig, are you awake?” The barbarian murmured.

Jaimy nodded her answer but she knew the barbarian did not need a reply.

“Do you want me?”

Jaimy moaned behind her muzzle.

The barbarian chuckled a little, “I was hopin' you'd say that.”

Jaimy surrendered herself into her lover's arms. The barbarian was highly effective at bringing Jaimy to climax. Her touches never failed to triggered goose bumps on Jaimy's skin. Her kisses always sent shivers down Jaimy's spine. Her mouth caressing Jaimy's sex left the Urbanite panting in utter bliss every morning.

“Mine,” the barbarian hushed before dipping into Jaimy's darkness.

The barbarian's needy tongue stroked Jaimy's hot center. Lightening bolts of excitement flashed in Jaimy's tightly pinched eyes. She managed to snatch a fistful of the barbarian's hair to urge the woman onward. The barbarian chuckled again, which sparked shock waves of joy from Jaimy's core to all her extremities then back again. After a relentless tongue thrashing, it only took a flick and a nip of her clit to send Jaimy sailing over the edge into her orgasm.

Jaimy sucked in lungfuls of air through her nose and bound mouth. Her body trembled in the aftermath of her joy. She was momentarily dazed as her heart tried to calm her body once more.

The barbarian wrapped her strong body around Jaimy. She settled her satisfied Urbanite lover against her chest. Whispery kisses graced the top of Jaimy's weary head.

“Mine,” the barbarian mumbled. “Now, rest, my little pig. I'll hold you and watch over you while you sleep a little longer.”

Jaimy felt herself drifting off secure in the barbarian's arms. It struck Jaimy as odd she had never felt so safe in her entire life. Yet, she was in a place where her death was a certainty.

“As long as we die together, it doesn't matter,” was Jaimy's last thought before she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

“Okay, rush ‘em,” the Captain shouted.

The offensive line raced toward the defenders. Neither side was armed. The slaves practiced their fighting with brute strength. Only a handful of them would get to the last round of First Eve when weapons were allowed. It made little sense to spend time practicing with something most of the slaves would never live long enough to use.

Jaimy ran straight for her barbarian. She was determined to push the taller, stronger woman back a few feet. It was tit for tat competition they teased each other with during practice each day. Later, when they were alone in their cell, they would sooth the wounds they caused in a sensual foreplay of exploration and comfort.

The barbarian stood her ground grinning. Jaimy barreled right for her. The last few steps, Jaimy launched herself feet first. With a subtle crouch, the barbarian grabbed Jaimy's foot close to her chest and lifted up. Jaimy's own momentum tossed her over the barbarian's head.

Tucking her body, Jaimy spun in a somersault of sorts. Panic drove her to jut her legs out to brace for impact. She felt the contact with the ground rattle her from her feet to the knees to her hips. The force drove her into a standing position. And, then the world stopped spinning.

Jaimy staggered a foot or two while she got her equilibrium. Her ears were popping from the suddenness of her flight and landing. Still, she remained erect. To her pleasant relief, she was unhurt as well.

“Amazing!” The Captain screamed.

Jaimy realized his was the only voice echoing in the practice yard. She turned to see the stunned faces of the other slaves. They had stopped their combat to watch what should have been her splattering down into the dirt.

“I knew you could do it!” The barbarian shouted. “I knew the way you've been flipping over my shoulder you could do it!”

Jaimy shook her head unable to understand the importance of her new talent.

“We've found a missile my friends,” the Captain called out. “The Urbanite is our secret weapon; a missile to shoot behind enemy lines.”

“Great, just great,” Jaimy seethed to herself.

* * *

“Come here,” the barbarian, demanded with a deep rumble. “I need you.”

Jaimy tugged herself away from the barbarian as soon as the straps of her muzzle were unfastened. Grabbing the hated leather, Jaimy hurled it at the cell wall in frustration. She turned her back and hunkered down into the corner she retreated to so often in the first days of her captivity.

“What? What's wrong?” The barbarian questioned. “We only have fifteen minutes to get you fed, watered, and servicing me?”

They both knew the barbarian was joking. But, Jaimy was at the end of her patience. Her over reaction should not have been a surprise. Still, the barbarian was surprised.

“Fuck yourself! I hate you.” Jaimy hissed.

“What? Why?”

The barbarian was completely confused. She tried to wrap an arm around Jaimy but got an elbow to the gut for her efforts. Not use to rejection, the barbarian took Jaimy in a headlock and pinned her to the floor. The barbarian's rock hard body pressed her lightweight lover into submission while her lips stated her purpose.

“You don't get to say mean things to me. EVER! I do love you but I'm not going to let you get out of my control. I'll drop you to the ground every time and then rub your nose in the dirt if you disrespect me. Got me?”

She waited until Jaimy grudgingly nodded understanding.

“Good. Now, explain and quickly why you're in a mood. I suggest you make it a short story because you're still goin' to be sweet to me then you'll get to eat. And, I'm guessing you only got about ten minutes left before you get gagged again.”

Jaimy made her complaint clear in a mocking tone. “A missile? You made me a missile for a suicide mission? Without telling me first? Are you trying to get me killed?”

The barbarian eased her hold but held their position. “It was kind of spontaneous. Didn't think it all the way through until you were in the air. It's a good thing for our side. Granted, it could be a bad thing for you maybe.” The barbarian sighed with an air of resignation. “You're gonna die anyway. Nothin' we can do to stop it. So what does it matter if you have to go hand to hand behind the line of scrimmage.”

“Because,” Jaimy told her, “if you toss me over the line then we'll be separated and die alone. I wanted to die in your arms. It was the only thought that made this life livable.”

The barbarian was silent. She had no argument to offer. Releasing Jaimy, she got to her feet but could not face the woman.

“Have your dinner. Put your muzzle on. Go to sleep.”

The barbarian started to walk out of the cell and Jaimy called after her, “Where are you going?”

The barbarian shrugged without turning around. “You hate me so I'm gonna sleep with somebody else tonight.”

Jaimy was left to sleep alone for the first time in her life. Alone with her despair and her meager meal and her tears.

Chapter 10

Jaimy braced herself. She kept her knees bent and her stance a little less than shoulder width. Her left foot was slightly behind her right. Ever so subtly, she leaned forward.

The practice yard was silent. Two rows of slaves faced off against each other. Today it was up to Jaimy's side to defend the line of scrimmage from what would soon become a rushing wave of slaves from across the yard. Everyone waited for the Captain to give the signal to begin. There was no way of telling how long he would hold them back from the charge. Jaimy understood waiting was as much part of their training as fight was. Perhaps, it was more so.

Jaimy could clearly see the barbarian. The woman would not look at Jaimy. They had not been together, other than to practice, in over a week. The barbarian only spoke to Jaimy to give directions. She walked away from the Urbanite every time Jaimy was allowed to remove her gag.

Jaimy tried to follow the barbarian that very first day after their argument. She desperately wanted to apologize but the Captain intercepted her. He shoved her back in the dirt and gave her a hard kick after uttering a commanding, “Leave her be.”

Movement behind the barbarian caught Jaimy's attention. Ned laid a vicious lash to the barbarian's back with a six-tailed cat. Jaimy grunted in sympathy but the barbarian did not even flinch.

“She's either getting used to the pain or her back is so raw she can't feel one more welt,” Jaimy thought.

“You never learn, do you?” Ned screamed and grabbed a fistful of hair. He tugged the barbarian down a few inches so he could shout right in her ear. “You stand still and wait until you're told to move. Stop rocking back and forth or I'll put you on a leash! Got me?”

The barbarian nodded before mumbling, “Yes, sir.”

Jaimy shivered at the tone. The barbarian sounded defeated. Her voice was lifeless. A tear crested in Jaimy's eye. She understood she had caused this change in the barbarian. She broke the strong woman's spirit in a way the guards' whips could not.

“ATTACK!” The Captain yelled from his perch in the guard tower.

Jaimy shook off her momentary grief to focus. The barbarian was running toward her. The barbarian's hard fists were clenched ready for to assault. But, Jaimy noticed the flat expression on the barbarian's face. She was just going through the motions. There was no energy to her moments. No spring in her step. The barbarian was not trying. The realization frightened Jaimy more than anything, which had happened to her since her capture. If the barbarian gave up, Jaimy would be lost too.

Breaking with the training instructions, Jaimy charged the approaching onslaught. There were shouts and screams to hold the line. The Captain was yelling to pull back but Jaimy pressed onward.

Jaimy slammed into her lover's body with her shoulder just below the barbarian's hips. The momentum almost folded the barbarian in half. Jaimy felt the now off balance woman grab her around the waist but she continue to push, almost carrying the woman back to where she started.

“What the fuck? What the fuck are you doing?” The barbarian panted but could not free herself from Jaimy's grasp. “Stop! Stop! Shit, I'm falling!”

The pair went crashing over a row of sandbags used to divert run off from the roof. They landed in a heap a foot or two below in the muddy drainage ditch. Jaimy was on top, straddling the barbarian. Jaimy didn't care what the cost of her actions would be, she just wanted one moment to speak. Her frantic fingers tugged the straps of her muzzle loose enough to push aside. She buried her face against the barbarian neck.

“No, stop! He'll flog you!” The barbarian hissed the warning and grabbed for the muzzle.

“I don't care. You need to know…I'm sorry…I love you…come back to me and fuck me tonight… please,” Jaimy words were interrupted by her kissing and suckling the barbarian face and neck. “I love you…I'm so sorry…please…don't just give up and die…please…,”

The whip heading directly for Jaimy's back was intercepted by the barbarian's shoulder. The taller woman flipped them over when she saw the shadow of Ned's raised his arm fall across them. Her body hovered over Jaimy as Ned let another lash fall.

“Put the muzzle back on, now!” The barbarian ground out from behind clenched teeth.

Jaimy did as she was told. She felt two more strikes rattle the barbarian's body sheltering her. The barbarian didn't flinch or cry out with the beating. She stayed huddled over Jaimy until the guards pulled them apart. By the time they were on their feet, Jaimy's muzzle was in place.

“You stupid little cunt bitch!” Ned shouted.

The enraged guard leveled a punch to Jaimy's gut. The pain doubled her over. She dropped to her knees hugging her belly.

“And, you!” He turned on the barbarian and backhanded her, “you should know better than to piss me off. The two of you are gonna think last time was a vacation by the sea when I get through with you…,”

“Sir, if I might ask a quick question?” The Captain was cautious as he approached.

“Careful old man, I'm not in a good mood…not yet anyway.”

The Captain cleared his throat but did not sound nervous as he began. “I'm not exactly sure what you're going to punish them for. What did they do wrong?”

Ned looked up from the two women kneeling in the dirt. “They…she, she broke formation.”

“And?” The Captain asked.

“Well, she can't. I mean, it isn't done. She's supposed to defend the line of scrimmage not run away from it!” Ned was gaining confidence in his argument as he went.

“She did defend it. Rushing the strongest player on the other side weakened the attack. The line held. The point goes to the defense on this round.” The Captain tried to sound conciliatory, “Granted it is a bold strategy. It may not work in all situations but it is a sweet little trick to have in the play book.”

Ned wanted to find fault with the Captain's reasoning, “It must be against some rule. Otherwise, it would have been used before.”

The Captain chuckled. “It has been used before. I used it during my first outing of first eve. How do you think the little cunt bitch knew what to do? I taught her.”

“Fuck,” Ned grumbled under his breath with disappointment. “Get up and get back to your teams. Next time, I see anything the least bit suspicious; you two are getting ten cracks and staked out for the night!”

* * *

Jaimy was on her knees lapping at the warmth between the barbarian's thighs. She could hear the woman sigh as she settled back against the cold stonewall of their cell. A soft grunt was the only indication the barbarian was hurt by the whipping she took earlier in the day. Jaimy want to ease her lover's suffering just a little. She couldn't think of a better way to do so than servicing her with a grateful tongue.

“That's it. More. Oh, ya, more, right there. Oh,” The barbarian heaved a heavy sigh following a burst of wetness into Jaimy's mouth.

Jaimy kissed her way up the barbarian's trembling body. She ran her hands gently along the solid hips and firm ass. Climbing ever higher, she closed her mouth around the barbarian's only remaining nipple and sucked in hard. She was surprised when the barbarian growled and shoved her own hand into the crack between Jaimy's naked ass cheeks.

“This is what I want from you,” the barbarian said in a husky voice, which was far from satisfied.

Jaimy released her hold on the barbarian's breast. “You want to fist my ass?”

“Yep.”

“Never done that before,” Jaimy admitted with a slight twinge of fear.

The barbarian cupped Jaimy's face with her free hand, “It hurts. A lot. Guards' will probably do it to you next time we get in trouble. It's better if I break you in first.”

“You gonna be gentle?”

Jaimy saw no regret when the barbarian shook her head no. This was to be a challenge. If Jaimy refused then she was certain the barbarian would walk away from her forever. Or, whatever forever they had left.

“Where do you want me?”

The barbarian gave a small smile. She leaned forward and kissed Jaimy's lips. Taking a little more, she slipped her tongue into Jaimy's mouth. In spite of her promise not to be gentle, the kiss was sweet with a hint of innocence.

“You need to bend over. It'll be better for you if you spread your cheeks yourself.”

Jaimy nodded. She knelt down at the barbarian's feet and bent as much as she could. She reached back and grabbed her own ass. A shiver ran through her as the cool air caressed her dark hole.

The barbarian settled in beside her. She reached over Jaimy's shoulder and snaked her hand between Jaimy's breasts.

“I'll hold you up so just relax.”

Jaimy was too terrified to hear the tender concern in the barbarian's voice. Jaimy swallowed hard but could not get her fear under control. She worried she just might scream.

“Can, can I have my muzzle, please?”

The barbarian nuzzled the back of Jaimy's neck with her lips. “Sure. That's probably a good idea. This is gonna hurt. You're gonna have trouble walking tomorrow. But, I really, really want to do this to you. Are you gonna let me?”

Jaimy's heart was hammering in her chest. The barbarian finished fastening the gag while she was detailing the coming ordeal. All Jaimy could do was nod her head in agreement. She would surrender to the barbarian's desire if it meant the strong fighter would stay with her. Jaimy would rather be abused by the barbarian than exist in this pit without her. Jaimy accepted she was a slave in more ways than one.

Warm kisses trailed across Jaimy's shoulders. The scars on her back burned with the attention. She felt a blush fill her cheeks. Her muscles began to unwind with the gentle ministrations. She could not suppress a moan of her own when the barbarian began massaging her ass with soft strokes. Jaimy's full weight settled into the barbarian's arm.

“Ya, this is gonna hurt like hell warmed over,” the barbarian purred during a momentary lull in the petting of Jaimy's ass. “You're only gonna want me to do this all night long.”

Jaimy felt the strokes dip lower toward her puckered hole. The barbarian's fingers was now slick with her own juice. Jaimy tensed a little knowing the moment of her penetration was at hand. The barbarian resumed her kisses near Jaimy's collar. The slow and tender massaging continued but pressed closer to the object of the barbarian's desire. A strong thumb began to work the tight spot open.

Jaimy's skin goose bumped with the new sensation. A sudden flash of excitement raced through her body. She wanted more of this new sensation. She tried to work her bottom closer to the intruding appendage but the barbarian drew back.

“No rushing this horror, girl, you'll be howling soon enough.”

Jaimy began to wonder if the barbarian was testing her or teasing her. Her whole body tingled under the barbarian skillful hands.

“This belongs to me,” the barbarian claimed her as she pushed her thumb into Jaimy's virgin ass, “nobody but me.”

Jaimy bucked her hips at the intrusion. She wasn't sure if she wanted the thumb out or the barbarian's whole hand inside of her. More pressure spread open her hole for the barbarian's forefinger. It forced its way in and released another wave of excitement through Jaimy's body. Her head spun with the growing desire to be filled.

“Harder,” Jaimy tried to instruct from behind her muzzle.

“Ah, no, my little pig. I'm not going to stop. I'll have no mercy for you,” the barbarian chuckled fully realizing stopping was the last thing Jaimy wanted her to do. “Here we go. Three fingers in and here comes four…,”

Jaimy wailed. She was stretched wide to take the whole of her lover's hand. She saw stars with the explosion of her orgasm. It was like a convulsion shaking her to the core. Her mind flew in a dizzying spin of emotion.

“Easy, easy baby, I got you,” the barbarian reassured as she cradled Jaimy's shuddering frame. “You should know I'm not gonna hurt you anymore. Never. I love you, Jaimy.”

Jaimy realized her muzzle was off, her ass was throbbing but emptied of lover's hand, and she was cuddled in the woman's arms. She knew she had lost some minutes. With the intensity of the barbarian's total conquest, Jaimy believed it was very possible she lost days riding the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“I love you, my barbarian. I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I'll never doubt you again.”

The barbarian grimaced a bit, “…because I give you mind blowing fucks…”

Jaimy shook her head and brought her hand to the barbarian's sweaty cheek. “It isn't just fuckin' between us. It's deeper. I gave my body up to you for whatever you wanted to do. You could've beaten me black and blue or hurt me bad but you didn't. You treated me like my body more than just an object. You acted like my body was special…,”

“It is special because you are…,” the barbarian kissed Jaimy's palm.

“So are you. I love you, my barbarian.”

“I love you too, my little pig.”

Chapter 11

Jaimy and the barbarian were matching swing for swing and slug for slug. Each solid connection was chalked up in the deliverer's column on the dirt scoreboard the Captain was tending. A perfect left landed just under the barbarian's eye staggering her, leaving her momentarily unable to answer the punch.

“Oh, looks like the pig has got her now!” Shouted one of slaves from the loosely assemble audience.

“Don't bet your porridge on it, Ollie,” another warned.

“Two days rations say the Urbanite will win it!”

“You're on!”

Jaimy was oblivious to the gambling. She was too busy concentrating on the barbarian. Even dazed, the woman was too strong for Jaimy to pummel into submission. The Urbanite needed to keep hammering away at the barbarian's defenses until one or both of them simply collapsed in exhaustion.

“Getting lucky?” The barbarian taunted as she found her footing.

Jaimy shook her head no and danced out of reach. “I got lucky this morning. Thank you very much, by the way. I'm just trying to stay out of reach and on my feet now.”

“You got to press the assault, little pig. Don't drop back. When you connect that hard keep pounding away,” the barbarian instructed as she took two menacing steps toward her opponent.

Having nowhere to retreat without backing out of the boundary drawn in the dirt, Jaimy lunged forward. She faked with her right and then tried to level her left to the mark it hit so well once before. The barbarian blocked her. She belted Jaimy across the face and then kneed her in the gut. Jaimy flopped into the dirt at the barbarian's feet coughing up several mouthfuls of her breakfast.

“Son of a Cunt!” Shouted the wagering loser.

The Captain chuckled and cautioned, “Never count the barbarian out. She's better than anybody thinks.”

The barbarian squatted next to Jaimy. She stroked the woman's hair out of the way during a gruesome round of dry heaving.

“Easy there. Get your breath. You're okay,” the barbarian hushed.

Jaimy nodded and tried to swallow down the bile climbing up her throat. Deep shuddering breaths steadied her traumatized belly. She closed her eyes to clear her head before sitting back on her heels.

“I'm okay.”

The barbarian smiled as she wiped blood from the corner of Jaimy's mouth. “I know you're okay. I didn't hit you hard enough to do any damage. After all, I want to play with you later.”

“Gee, thanks,” Jaimy said with a grimace. “Can't wait to feel what it's like when you do hit me hard enough to cause damage.”

The barbarian's brow drew together and the grin left her lips. “You'll never have to feel me hit you that hard. It'd kill you if I did. I have no intention of killing you, my sweet little love.”

Jaimy felt tingles run up her spine from the caress of the barbarian's soft low voice. It left her nearly breathless. She shifted closer to her lover and brushed her bruised lips across the barbarian's mouth.

“Don't try to distract her!” The Captain's voice ended their moment. “You get your muzzle on before Ned catches you lounging around without. It's hard enough to get him to let you take it off for hand to hand practice. I can't have him thinking you're enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, can't have that now, can we?” The barbarian whispered with deep regret.

Jaimy accepted the leather gag from the Captain with a groan of disappointment. She began to fasten it into place with her eyes focused on the ground. She hated to look at the barbarian during the humiliating process.

Strong fingers gently removed her hands from their task. Her barbarian buckled the straps with care while hovering closer to Jaimy.

“Tonight,” she whispered. “I'll get one of the guys to look out for us. You'll sleep without this fucking muzzle. I promise.”

The barbarian lifted Jaimy's chin. She smiled at the Urbanite before kissing her leather bound mouth.

A siren blared. Jaimy pulled away in fear. The barbarian chuckled at her alarm as she got up. She grabbed Jaimy by the scruff of her shirt and put her on her feet next to her.

“It just means they're opening the gates. We need to get over to the whipping post so they can restrain us.”

Jaimy let the barbarian lead her. She found it difficult to move her feet the closer she got to the post. Other slaves pushed past them as Jaimy stopped and tried to get out of the barbarian's firm grasp.

“What's the matter?” The barbarian turned on her in frustration. The terror in Jaimy's eyes was all the explanation the barbarian needed. “It's okay. Come on. I won't let them beat you. Come on, I'm with you.”

Jaimy let her lover tug her along. She didn't doubt the barbarian's intent to keep her safe. However, neither of them had been particularly successful in staying away from the guards' whips.

Ned was just finished locking a heavy chain to the whipping post when Jaimy and the barbarian joined the group. He handed the loose end off to a nearby slave. The man threaded the link through the D ring on his collar. He pulled it out to arms length before handing it to the next slave huddled by the post.

Jaimy flinched thinking about the bruises her neck would incur. The weight of the chain would have been bad enough. But, tethering them together meant even small movements by an individual slave would cause strain to the whole group.

“Fucking bastards,” the barbarian voiced Jaimy's thought. “They could easily just cuff us together. Why do they want to embarrass us in front of company?”

Jaimy looked up at the barbarian with raised eyebrows.

“Well,” the barbarian sputtered to explain, “this way we look like dogs instead of property.”

Jaimy was unimpressed with the barbarian's differentiation.

“I mean, we're not wild animals.” The barbarian tried to clarify as she lifted Jaimy's chin and pushed the links through her collar's ring. “We're valuable property,” she paused as she passed the links through her own collar. “Valuable property that kills on command.”

“That my friend,” the Captain interrupted as he took the end of the chain from the barbarian, “is what makes us wild animals. We're not even as good as the master's dogs. At least, the dogs can be trained to behave when company visits.”

The Captain's laughter darkened Jaimy's mood but the barbarian seemed to shrink away from the man's condemnation. Jaimy rested her hand in the middle of the barbarian's back and snuggled under her arm. The barbarian gave a tiny smile but it only served to make her appear even sadder.

The guards pushed the group into a tighter pack. They padlocked the chain leaving about of foot of links as a tail.

“Fuckers are crowding us,” a voice grumbled.

“Shut it!” Ned shouted.

The gates opened. A long, very shiny black car drove in first. The windows were too shaded to allow a glimpse of what or who was inside. Although, Jaimy doubted it would matter to her. She didn't believe she knew anybody in New Rome other than her Master's household.

A large truck clunked and rattled it's way behind the smooth riding car. In it's open bed was about twenty men chained together. Another smaller truck drove in last. It was filled with a half dozen well armed soldiers wearing blazing crimson silk jackets.

“See. Those slaves are shackled at the wrists. That's the way to treat your property,” the barbarian muttered glumly.

The trucks emptied of men in a quick and organized manner. The newly arrived soldiers herded the slaves toward the barracks. Fitzgibbons guards stood idly shifting foot to foot. The senator's slaves, however, were growing restless.

“Why are they going to our barracks?” A voice murmured.

“There ain't enough cells as it is. They're gonna stuff more bodies inside?”

Rocko grumbled, “If any asshole touches my stuff, I'll rip their arms off and ram ‘em down their throats.”

“What stuff you got?” The Captain asked. “Everything here belongs to the Master.”

“Shut it,” Ned grumbled.

“Even the idiot guards?” The barbarian asked with more than a little sarcasm.

“Especially the guards,” The Captain replied.

The back door of the sleek black car opened. Senator Fitzgibbon emerged grinning. He turned and gallantly extended his hand into the darkened interior. A pale hand with perfectly manicured blood red fingernails accepted his assistance. The woman stepped out of the car and into the yard with a giggle. She shook her long blonde curls with a casual elegance which set Fitzgibbon grinning.

“I'm gonna bust a nut,” Foozi hushed.

The barbarian moaned, “You ain't kidding.”

Jaimy snarled up at her lover.

“Sorry, little pig, but that woman is enough to make any dry pussy drip.”

“Cut the chatter!” Ned commanded. “On your knees, NOW!”

The slaves groaned as a group. The Captain raised his hand to signal quiet. Their obedience was immediate.

“Left knee,” he ordered.

The slaves bent down.

“Right knee.”

They obeyed in team unison. The barbarian guided Jaimy on the descent. She positioned the Urbanite at a slight angle in front of her. Once the group settled on the ground, the barbarian put her arms around her lover's waist and pulled her close.

“If we have to be uncomfortable then I want to at least get to hold on to you.”

Jaimy leaned back slightly. Her body rested against the barbarian's. In spite of the discomfort of kneeling on hard packed dirt, Jaimy was enjoying the close proximity to her lover.

“Senator Goode, now that you see my band of fighters in person, what do you think?” Fitzgibbons asked as he and the woman approached the humbled slaves.

The woman pursed her lips and scanned the group. “I don't know. They look like a scruffy bunch. Do you think they'll hurt my property? I don't want to incur any significant damage. Too expensive,” she explained.

“Don't worry about that,” Fitzgibbons reassured her. “They'll be kept out here tonight as they are with no food or water. By morning, they'll be tired and famished. Not significantly so but enough to pull the sting out of their punches, I should think. And, since it's only practice for them, they'll be on notice not to maim or kill. If they do, I'll have them skinned alive.”

“Oh dear,” Senator Goode exclaimed. “I didn't impose restrictions on the damage my slaves could cause. Your slaves are so much more skilled that I felt my slaves needed to be able to pull out all the stops. It would seem my team has a bit of an advantage.”

“No worries,” he grinned at her as she giggled. “If any of my slaves are dumb enough to get hurt or killed by your team then I don't want them in my stable anyway.”

The pair laughed heartily at the comment. They strolled away, hand in hand, discussing dinner plans. Jaimy watched them depart with a rising anger at their total disregard for life. For the first time ever, she was grateful to be gagged.

Chapter 12

“Rain. Miserable, fuckin' rain,” Jaimy thought to herself.

She nuzzled her face further into the barbarian's chest. The smell of the other woman combined with the sweet summer rain was almost enough to lull Jaimy to sleep. A sudden crack of thunder snapped her wide-awake. The barbarian chuckled before snuggling her a little closer.

“Relax, thunder can't hurt you. It's the lightening that'll kill you.”

Jaimy laughed a bit as well. Her reward was a small kiss to the crown of her head. Her eyes fluttered shut as the barbarian continued to hush light kisses to her head.

“I'm sorry,” she finally whispered to the nearly slumbering Jaimy. “I promised you a night without that damn gag and I couldn't deliver. I'm sorry, my little pig, I'm sorry.”

Jaimy shook her head lightly. Her hand lifted as if on its own to the barbarian's cheek. Rough fingers caressed the rain drenched face. The barbarian turned into the attention and kissed Jaimy's palm before resuming her submission to the woman's petting.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, little pig. I can't even believe after so many years alone, I finally have you beside me,” the barbarian gave a heavy sigh. “I love you. Sleep and I'll watch over you tonight and every night for the rest of my life.”

Jaimy's soft snore replied bringing a grin of true contentment to the barbarian's lips.

* * *

A shrill whistle set the long chain to rattling. Slaves rocked awake and cried out as they were brought up short by their leash. A steady stream of curses rose from the rousing group.

“Alright, quiet and listen up,” Ned's voice was hoarse from whatever he imbibed in the night before. “We're gonna let you off the chain and you're gonna get your asses over to the practice yard. Captain's on the south platform. Senator Goode's coach is on the north end. Line up immediately. The contest starts in ten minutes. No breakfast. No washing. No shitting. No pissing. Just fighting. Now get moving!” Ned remembered something and said with a snarl, “Any of you gets killed; it's your own tough luck. But, none of you are to do any serious damage to Senator Goode's pets. You hurt any them and your Master is gonna roast you alive for his dinner.”

“Fuck,” the barbarian hissed. “We just gotta hold the scrimmage line while those punks try to figure out how to get over the top of us. This blows. I can't even risk a swing at one of them ‘cause I might hit a glass jaw.”

Several nearby slaves muttered agreement. The Captain seemed dejected. Jaimy nudged him with her toe. He gave her a quick glance over his shoulder. His eyes spoke of defeat.

“I should just let you all take a knee and have the little shits run in on me. End this farce fast and neat.”

“They might hurt you, Captain,” Foozi warned. “We ain't got no chance on First Eve without you.”

Rocko applied reason to the situation for perhaps the first time in his life. “Master wants to play like this then we don't got no chance at First Eve anyway. We are butt fucked right here and now.”

Jaimy glanced up quickly at the barbarian. She saw the barbarian's eyes go soft with the memory of their shared perversion. Jaimy could not help the blush coloring her cheeks. The barbarian gave a sexy wink and mouthed, “oh yeah!”

“Shut up!” Ned screamed ending all the chatter.

The chain thudded and clanked as it was pulled out of D ring after D ring. Jaimy did not accept the loose end when the barbarian offered it. Instead, she lifted her chin and waited for the barbarian to free her. The barbarian's grin grew broader.

“I'm gonna plow your ass tonight, little pig.” The barbarian whispered in her ear making Jaimy moan with anticipation. “Let's go get this over with so we can get on to getting on.”

The slaves straggled over to the practice field. It was an allusion of freedom to meander from one place to another unencumbered and unaccompanied. Moments spent as an individual were too fleeting and infrequent to waste.

Jaimy and the barbarian walked hand in hand. They bumped each other and snuggled like giddy virgins on a first date. It was only five hundred feet between here and there but each foot was thoroughly enjoyed.

“Mutha Fucka!” Shouted Rocko.

Jaimy looked up to see the cause of his concern. Senator Goode's slaves were not only fed and rested they were armed. Sticks and clubs were most prominent but a few nets and dull blades were in the mix. Their coach was a bald, snarling behemoth. He stood on the platform at the north end of the yard yelling orders. His team scurried to obey.

“We're gonna get our asses kicked,” Foozi hissed.

The barbarian grunted. She kept walking but tore her shirt off. Jaimy watched her as she twisted it lengthwise. Bending as they continued to move, she picked a fistful of mud. She tucked it into a small pouch at the end of the length of cloth. Two hearty swings over her head and she launched the mud ball. It landed two feet in front of the behemoth. The man narrowed his scowl on a smirking barbarian. A whip crack wiped the smile from her face.

“Nobody gave you permission to start yet!” Ned screamed.

The barbarian's body stiffened but her hold on Jaimy's hand remained light as she called back over her shoulder without turning to look, “Sorry sir, just winding up.”

“Shut it!” He shouted.

The swish of the lash cutting through the air caused the barbarian to brace herself. However, the whip ripped across Jaimy's back instead. Jaimy could not contain her cry. Nor could she keep from crumbling to the ground in pain.

“What'd you do that for?” The barbarian covered Jaimy's huddled form with her own body but Ned didn't crack the whip again.

“She might get killed and I'll never get to beat her again. Think of it as once more for old time's sake,” he taunted. “Now, get to the practice yard. Double time!”

Jaimy trembled as the barbarian helped her to her feet. She knew tears were streaming down her face but she couldn't stop them. The barbarian used her calloused thumb to wipe them dry.

“I'll make you feel better tonight.” She kissed Jaimy's forehead and then instructed. “Take your shirt off. Let me make you a slingshot too.”

Jaimy was somewhat grateful to remove her shirt. The newly opened welt on her back would only get more irritated with the constant rubbing of the rough fabric. Besides, having some sort of weapon was preferable to being dressed.

“Not a bad idea, barbarian,” the Captain praised her.

Ollie, knotting his shirt in a similar manner, called over to her, “What are we gonna use as ammo?”

“Start with mud,” the barbarian instructed.

“A couple of you guys up front get a few clubs and we can break them up into weapons of wooden destruction,” the Captain directed. “Get lined up. They ain't gonna wait for us.”

The team quieted. As they followed the directions, a nervous energy began to grow. They lined up with an economy of tightly strung movements. None of them bothered to make eye contact with the men no more than a foot in front of them. The slaves had no desire to look at the person they were waiting to pummel.

Jaimy could feel the barbarian behind her. They held their slingshots in opposite hands. There was just enough space between them to swing their weapons. Two lines of men stood between Jaimy and the opposing coach.

“Two lines of very big and angry men,” Jaimy reminded herself.

A horn blared.

“ATTACK!” The Captain commanded.

The barbarian and Jaimy scored direct hits on the coach with mud balls almost simultaneously.

“That's what I'm talking about!” Rocko complimented.

He had hold of an opposing player's club. Rocko was pulling and the other guy was pulling. Rocko laughed which caught the other guy off guard.

“Okay, take it.”

Rocko let go. The other guy smashed himself in the face with the club. He dropped like a rock. Rocko grabbed the club and snapped it into over his knee. He tossed one end to the barbarian before turning his newly acquired weapon on another opposing player.

The barbarian snapped her end of the club over her knee. She handed one piece to Jaimy and then loaded the other in her own slingshot.

“Aim for his legs,” the barbarian directed. “Don't want to hurt the little fairies, do we?”

The two of them laughed. They launched their projectiles in unison. Each hit the intended mark. The coach dropped to his knees.

“Spare yourself the pain. Surrender,” the Captain called to the embarrassed man.

The coach crawled to the back of his platform. He scrambled with the contents of a duffle bag. He rolled onto his butt as his team was driven back a foot closer to him.

A curse uttered from behind her made Jaimy look over her shoulder. The barbarian closed the distance between them in two steps. She grabbed Jaimy and threw her to the rear. Jaimy tumbled to the ground uncertain what was happening. A thud and splash in the mud next to her explained everything she needed to know.

The barbarian had fallen on her back, her body spasmed wildly but mindlessly. A thin shaft extended from the barbarian's right eye skyward. Blood ran in oozing rivulets across her forehead and down her cheek.

Jaimy ripped her gag off screaming. “No, no, barbarian! No!”

She scrambled over to her lover. The woman was pale. There seemed to be no breath in or out of the quaking frame.

“Don't, don't do this. Wake up! Don't leave me yet!”

“Urbanite, you can't help her. We have to hold the line or we'll all end up like her. Now, get on your feet and fight,” the Captain was kneeling next to her and yelling in her ear.

Jaimy glared at him. His eyes were filled with tears and his face was almost as pale as the barbarian's. She could see his heart had broken too.

“Launch me!” Jaimy demanded as she grabbed her gag and snapped the chin strap free.

“What?”

“You heard me. We end this shit right this instant or we just roll over and die! So, launch me and let's end this!” Jaimy yelled as she dropped her pants. She quickly explained her action when she saw his raised eyebrows, “I'll get a little farther without resistance from the pants. Besides, it might distract them and give me an advantage.”

The Captain nodded. He hurried over to the line of scrimmage. He turned and faced Jaimy. Cupping his hands, he nodded his readiness.

Jaimy bent down and put her hand on the still warm cheek of her felled lover, “Soon, I'll be with you soon. I love you. Wait for me.”

Jaimy wiped her tears away. She back up a step and faced the Captain. Gauging the distance, she stepped back another foot. With a scream, she ran at the man. Her left foot landed squarely in his palms. He lifted up and she steered her unleashed momentum. Tucking into a summersault, she dragged every once of energy from the throw. She landed at the foot of the platform. It took her only an instant to recover before she swung up to the stand within arm's length of the coach. Unfortunately, for the coach, he took longer to recover from her amazing feat.

Jaimy used the palm of her hand to smash his nose flat. He howled and grabbed blindly for the broken appendage. She swept his legs out from under him with a neat kick. He collapsed in a heap. She leapt on top of his bulk and straddled him. The leather strap could only be looped around his thick neck once. She firmly tugged on the opposite ends.

“Wait, give, I give…,” the coach gagged.

Jaimy smiled when his eyes rolled back in his head. “Too bad ‘cause I don't.”

She could barely hear the Captain above the roaring in her ears. Her blood was rushing with the adrenaline triggered by her grief, fear, pain but most of all her anticipation. Soon, the guards would kill her to end the match. Then she and the barbarian would be together in death. They would together forever, finally free.

“Stop!” The Captain's cry echoed in her ears before her entire world went black.

Chapter 13

Jaimy remembered everything. From her first glimpses of childhood awareness, to the last second of murdering the coach, every heartbeat of her life was crowded into her consciousness. She was a surprised at how little she actually regretted. The life she lived was so grim and painful she thought she would have more ‘could've, would've, should've' moments.

A resounding slap to her cheek shook her to the core. Her thoughts scattered as she struggled to rouse.

“Rouse?” She thought with a sense of dread.

Another slap rattled her jaw.

“If I'm rousing then I'm waking.”

Still another slap burned across the tender skin under her eye.

“If I'm waking,” she struggled to convert thoughts into words.

A backhand snapped her head back against the whipping post.

“I'm not dead,” she muttered with bitter realization as she blinked open her eyes.

Ned grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her within inches of his snarling face. His bloodshot eyes and foul breath only hinted at the depths of his raging anger.

“Not yet you're not. But, you are gonna wish you were before he gets done with you!” Ned voice was hoarse as if he had been screaming for a long time.

“Or maybe crying,” the thought flittered through Jaimy's mind.

“I was so right about you from the get go. Your kind never learns. NEVER!” He screamed and released his hold long enough to backhand her again.

The world spun around Jaimy when her head smashed against the wooden pole behind her. Her arms were tied tightly above her head putting a strain on her shoulders. That ache, however, was minor compared to the throbbing in her brow.

Jaimy tried to push back the pain to focus her thoughts. She gave Ned a sideward glance to see what he was preparing to do next. He raised his arm and Jaimy cringed. The blow never connected. A voice called from the guardhouse and stilled his abuse of her with an order to attention.

“Only a momentary respite,” she thought.

The sun was just rising. Its rays were racing across the practice yard eager to illuminate another day. They would soon shine on the huddle of shackled slaves sleeping in the truck. Two weary, crimson-coated guards watched only their slumbering charges and somehow managed to ignore what was happening at the whipping post. The next truck in line was filled with the remainder of Senator Goode's guards all snoring soundly.

Jaimy glanced at Ned. He was stiffly straight but his uniform was a disgrace. Stains and wrinkles competed with missing buttons for attention. He was in no way prepared for the early morning, impromptu inspection.

“Good, it's awake,” Senator Fitzgibbon commented when he was close enough to see Jaimy's face. “I'm thinking skinning and roasting it alive. Let Goode's crew watch as a reward for their default win and make mine watch as a warning to the consequences for disobedience; the price of failure to please their Master.”

Jaimy forced herself not to react to his pronouncement of her punishment. She learned during her first lesson in discipline it would do her no good to seek mercy from her Master. He possessed none to give.

Ned cleared his throat and swallowed down a wad of phlegm. “Sir, if I may speak?”

Fitzgibbon glared at him but nodded permission to continue.

“This one's an ignorant animal incapable of intelligent thoughts. It only knows how to react,” Ned shifted nervously under Fitzgibbon's silent scrutiny. “When its mate went down it reacted; nothing more than that. It wasn't being disrespectful of your orders. It can't think like that. You should let me put a bullet in its brain and be done with it.”

“Oh really?” Fitzgibbon's sarcasm was not lost on Jaimy.

“I wonder if it hurts less to be roasted alive without skin,” Jaimy idly considered her certain fate with a liberal dose of gallows' humor.

“There you are, darling,” a light feminine voice broke the tension. “I've been looking simply everywhere for you.”

Fitzgibbon immediately relaxed his stance and turned to the remarkably well dressed and manicured woman approaching them. “Dear, I didn't expect you to be up for hours.”

She smiled with perfectly straight, white teeth. The giggle sounded a little forced to Jaimy's ears but Fitzgibbon didn't seem to notice.

“Oh, you'd think I'd sleep right through breakfast to lunch because we negotiated so long into the night last night,” Senator Goode said. “But, this morning instead of tired I feel invigorated.”

Fitzgibbon's cheeks flushed and jaw swung a bit loose looking for words. He seemed to melt into an awkward schoolboy before their eyes.

“Is that what we're calling it this morning? Negotiations?” There was a slight stutter to his question.

The woman grinned and gave him a peck on each cheek. “Yes, long, hard, and firm negotiations. And, I surrendered completely to your prowess.”

Jaimy was sure she saw Fitzgibbon's pants tent at the remark.

“What brings you out so early, my sweet?” Fitzgibbon asked as he shifted his stance to cover his manly weakness.

Senator Goode stepped away from Fitzgibbon and closer to Jaimy. There was calculated determination in the Senator's deep blue eyes. She pointed at the bound woman.

“I want her.”

“Fuck it, just roast me,” Jaimy thought.

“I came here with twenty slaves and I'm going to leave here with twenty slaves.” She turned and winked at Fitzgibbon, “It's only fair. Don't you think, my darling?”

“Senator, this is a very dangerous animal. We haven't been able to control it. It should be put down. The sooner the better,” Ned sounded somewhat frantic as he explained his position, “if you ask me.”

Jaimy frowned, not at the remark but, at the rationale. “Why would he care who gets me or kills me or how?”

“Nobody asked you,” Senator Goode snarled with a sudden anger and darkening blue eyes turning almost black with the emotion.

Fitzgibbon tried a different tactic, “Dear, you know there are few things that I'd deny you but,”

Senator Goode interrupted his attempt to placate her, “Oh, thank you! I knew you'd be reasonable and let me have my way just this once. You are so special, my sweet Fitzy.”

The lovely Senator's rich blonde hair seemed to shine in the in the brilliantly rising sunlight. She turned and let it cascade around her shoulders when she planted a kiss to each of Fitzgibbon's cheeks. Jaimy wondered what her penalty would be for vomiting at the pathetic scene before her.

“He can't be that stupid. He must see she's completely manipulating him,” Jaimy thought to herself.

Fitzgibbon sighed happily. “If you want the beast then it's yours to keep. Please take extra care with it. If it hurts you in anyway, I'll be heartbroken.”

“Don't worry, Fitzy,” Senator Goode reassured him. “I'm not the one who's going to get hurt.”

The cuddling pair glanced at Jaimy and chuckled.

“Great, just great,” Jaimy thought to herself.

* * *

Jaimy marveled at the marble tub holding her and gallons of clean, hot water. She realized part of her wonderment at the amenity was from the lingering effects of the drugs still coursing through her veins. Senator Goode's soldiers injected chemicals into her before they dumped her hog-tied body into the back of their truck.

“Not Senator anymore; it's Mistress now,” Jaimy let the thought run free in her mind. “Master gave me to her so she's my Mistress. The only question is why does she want me?”

The sedative worked well enough to knock Jaimy out cold for almost the entire trip. She struggled to wake up when they first brought her to the baths. However, the household slaves' preparations strung out longer than anticipated allowing Jaimy extra time to gather her intoxicated wits.

They were kind to her, Jaimy noted. The two slaves dressed in black cotton shorts and off white tunics fussed over her after the soldiers left them alone. They showed no fear of her while they worked to clean her body and hair. Once they were satisfied their job was done, they left her to soak in a freshly drawn tub. At least, that's what they told her they were doing.

“I guess, nobody told them I'm an untrainable, wild animal needing to be euthanized,” Jaimy muttered bitterly.

The door to the baths unlocked dragging Jaimy's attention away from her grim thoughts. A soldier pushed the door open and stepped into the steamy room. He glanced from side to side and scowled at Jaimy before he spoke to somebody behind him.

“All clear. Shout if it gives you any trouble.”

“Thank you,” a dark haired woman said to the soldier as she entered.

Jaimy watched closely as the stranger crossed the room. Her clothes were crisp and clean but not as fancy as Senator Goode's. Dark hair was held back from her pale face in a neat braid. She set a heavy black satchel on a nearby table. Several clicks opened the ominous looking bag but she removed no items before turning to face Jaimy. She gave a small smile when she saw Jaimy shrink lower into the water.

“I'm Dr. Adams. Senator Goode asked me to check on your injuries. This exam does not have to be a painful experience for you but,” she sighed, “if you threaten me or don't cooperate then I'll be forced to hurt you. I know, you're a fighter but you're also weak and still a little woozy from the secobarbital. It would be easy for me to knock you silly. So, don't push me, okay?”

The words were ominous but the doctor's voice was even. She sounded, perhaps, a bit concerned for Jaimy's safety. Nothing demonstrated in Dr. Adams' manner signaled aggression. Jaimy wasn't sure she agreed to behave solely because to the speech. It was entirely possible she agreed because she could barely organize her thoughts to do more than nod.

After helping her out of the tub, Dr. Adams proceeded with a thorough examination. The doctor did not lie. The treatments provided were not painful. Some antiseptic creams sizzled against fresh wounds before simmering down to a dull burning sensation. The shots were not pleasant but they were fleeting. None of the care rose to the level of suffering Jaimy considered hurtful.

“Did I miss anything?” Dr. Adams asked after checking Jaimy out from head to toes.

Jaimy gave a quick shake of the head. The doctor's hand cupping her chin made Jaimy flinch. Embarrassment at her inability to fend off the contact colored her cheeks. The doctor did not appear to notice the blush.

“I can't imagine Senator Fitzgibbon allowing such disrespect from you, slave.”

Jaimy winced at the word. It still stung to hear her current status; her eternal status. The doctor's soft, warm thumb gently stroked Jaimy's jaw line as if to sooth the unintended slight.

“Look at me,” the doctor said.

Jaimy lifted her eyes fully prepared to receive a reprimand. Physical or verbal, Jaimy was sure she earned a punishment. The smile spreading across the doctor's lips was unexpected.

“They tell me you're an Urbanite so our rules are new to you. Let me give you a brief reminder of appropriate behavior.” She gave a little wink, “I'd like your back to heal more before they tie you to the whipping post again.”

Jaimy could not keep the anger out of her eyes. She tried to look away but the doctor held fast to her chin.

“Okay, looks like that will get you a strapping. Your ass doesn't need a whole lot of welts either, if you ask me,” Dr. Adams stated. “You're supposed to be tough, so be tough. Don't let your opponents know what you're thinking. Free people are your only real opponents not the other slaves you'll fight on First Eve.”

Jaimy was shocked by the woman's candor. She glanced up again to try to gage Dr. Adams' demeanor. The same patient smile betrayed no underlying agenda.

“When you are spoken to, answer briefly and respectfully. If it is possible, stick with yes and no responses. Always use proper address; Mistress, ma'am, sir. Shaking and nodding of heads is only for those with no tongues. I don't think you want to join that crowd.”

“Master kept me gagged,” Jaimy felt the need to explain her silence. “I'm not used to talking much anymore.”

The doctor released her hold of Jaimy's chin. Her fingertips gave a parting caress to Jaimy's trembling lips before pulling away.

“You'll have to get over that quickly or you'll be punished. And, whatever you do, don't let them catch you staring at them. I saw you watching me when I came in. That will earn you a ten count with the cat. As your doctor,” she said with a conspiratorial grin, “I'd strongly recommend you avoid a flogging for the next month or so.”

Jaimy nodded first then quickly added, “Thank you, ma'am.”

“The soldiers will be in shortly to take you to your Mistress. Do not struggle with them.” She gave a tired sigh, “I don't want to have to come all the way back out here to patch you up again. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Jaimy answered correctly on her first attempt.

* * *

“And, this is better than being beaten into oblivion?” Jaimy questioned herself.

Her naked body was stretched to its limits and tightly bound between two posts. She was facing a very large and seemingly comfortable bed. The linens were so fresh Jaimy could smell the sun drenched breeze still clinging to them. The fluffed pillows were simply mouthwatering for the woman straining against taunt chains to hold her shoulders and hips in their sockets. Jaimy's muscles clenched even more when the bedroom door opened and shut behind her.

“Wonderful,” Senator Goode's voice was low with arousal. “Everything's just as I wanted.”

Jaimy allowed her eyes to close. She was beyond exhausted. Yet, she was about to endure some torture or other.

“No escape,” Jaimy muttered.

“Did you say something?” The Senator's hearing was extraordinary.

Jaimy could do little more than apologize. “Sorry, Mistress.”

A squeak from an ungreased wheel was the only response. Jaimy kept her eyes down but glanced in the direction of her Mistress' approach. The woman was pushing an adjustable height table covered with sharp instruments and shiny, highly buffed steel pieces similar to rivets and grommets.

Senator Goode wore a shear red robe. Glimpses of a red silk teddy shimmered underneath. Her delicate feet were slipped into matching high-heeled slippers.

Jaimy swallowed hard. She was more afraid of the woman fiddling with the sharp objects on the table than any man she ever faced in battle.

Senator Goode straightened up and looked directly at Jaimy. “I asked you if you said something.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Jaimy used the doctor's advice to limit her answers to yes and no.

“Well stop it! You are not allowed to speak. However,” the Senator smirked, “you may need to scream. I'm a humanitarian so I'll let you scream all you want.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” Jaimy answered dutifully.

The Senator moved up against Jaimy. She ran her fingers along the bound slave's outer thighs and up her flanks. Her hands trailed up the abuse back bringing a short snort of pain. The Senator laughed.

“You make the most delightful faces when you suffer. Do you know how much I enjoy watching your pain?”

Jaimy surprised even herself when she leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her Mistress' full lips. After a heartbeat of uncertainty, she deepened the kiss. Her hesitant tongue was welcomed into the warm embrace of a grateful mouth.

“So bold,” the Senator was breathless when she broke away. “I'll have to keep heavy restraints on you.”

“I'm yours, Mistress,” Jaimy declared.

Senator Goode snapped her attention to Jaimy's face. She searched the slave for any hint of insolence. Tense shoulders relaxed a little after finding no disrespect in the comment.

“Do you know what I'm going to do to you?” Goode asked.

Jaimy's reply was soft and resigned to her fate, “Anything you want, Mistress.”

“Are you afraid?” Senator Goode stepped in close to fondle Jaimy's firm breasts.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Why?”

Jaimy tried to reach those sweet red lips again but they were just out of reach. “I don't want to disappoint my Mistress.”

Jaimy knew what the Senator's next action would be. She probably knew before the woman did herself. With a smug expression, the Senator shoved three fingers into Jaimy's hot center. Jaimy let a low moan escape her lips when the Senator's eyes widened with surprise.

“Soaking?” The Senator removed her fingers from Jaimy and briefly studied the sticky residue, “You do want me, don't you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Jaimy hushed.

Senator bit her lip and turned to the table next to her. She selected a leather and steel collar. Then she picked up a palm-sized wrench as if by some stray whim. Once she moved closer, Jaimy lifted her chin to accept the offering as if she had any choice in the matter.

The Senator pressed her body against Jaimy to see over her shoulder. It took a few seconds and several curses to fasten the band around Jaimy's neck.

“This tool was specially made to fasten your cuffs and collar. The stylus at the end is one of a kind. If anything happens to destroy the tip of the wrench then the collar and cuffs can never be removed,” the Senator was nearly breathless in her explanation. “Do you know what I want to do?”

“No, Mistress,” Jaimy's voice cracked as she adjusted to the weight of the new collar.

“I want to smash the stylus to pieces. What do you think I should do, slave?”

Jaimy grimaced, “Mistress should do as she wishes.”

The Senator laughed with giddy excitement. She took a pair of pliers and proceeded to mangle the wrench's one of kind tip. Jaimy watched silently as any chance of freedom was crushed before her eyes.

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Jaimy was sincere in her statement. There was a certain amount of relief in realizing all hope was lost. It was a different kind of freedom but a sense of freedom none the less.

“Let's get you marked properly,” Senator Goode was so intent in her looking over of the assembled instruments she missed the paling of Jaimy's cheeks. “Here we go.”

Jaimy glanced at the long tongs in the Senator's hand. She watched with a morbid curiosity while modifications were made to the items tip. It looked very sharp when the Senator turned it toward Jaimy's nose. Jaimy swallowed hard and tried to keep her bound limbs from trembling too hard.

“You'll hardly feel it,” Goode whispered as she inserted the instrument into either nostril.

Jaimy gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. The pointed pressure slowly ripped a whole in her septum. Tears formed but did not fall. Cold fingers prodded the bloodless wound when the tongs were removed. In moments, a new weight hung from Jaimy's nose.

“I do love bull rings on my fuck toys.”

Jaimy found her voice, “Is that what I am? A fuck toy, Mistress?”

Goode grinned, “If you're lucky. If you're unlucky then you'll be my broken fuck toy. Now, hold still while I get those impertinent nipples properly pierced.”

Jaimy did hold still. She stayed still while her breasts, navel, and labia were pierced and adorned with steel posts. She screamed when her Mistress spiked her with a fourchette, a Christina, and an Isabella.

“Oh, too bad!” Her Mistress pouted and stood up from her inspection between Jaimy's legs. “You're just not big enough for a Princess Albertina.”

Jaimy had no idea what the Senator meant. She was just glad the woman was unable to puncture her skin again. Her relief was entirely premature.

“I guess all that's left to do is brand you.”

Jaimy sobbed. Her head hung forward in complete exhaustion. Her Mistress drew close and bestowed soft kisses on her sweaty cheeks.

“You have been absolutely delightful. Dr. Adams was right; you are special. I've enjoyed you more than any other toy in, well, forever.” Goode giggled and snuggled her face into the crook of Jaimy's shoulder. “I've had such fun with you that I'm not going to kill you yet. Can you believe it?”

Jaimy's tears were unabated. “No Mistress, I can't.”

Chapter 14

Jaimy's vision was clearing. She was trying to focus on the figure approaching her. The closer it got the more defined it became. She shook her head to get her sweat soaked hair out of her way but the only effect of the movement was to increase her dizziness.

“Easy,” the voice was soft.

Jaimy allowed herself to believe the voice was compassionate. The rationale part of her mind, which was barely capable of functioning after endless hours of abuse, awakened to rally her to get her guard up. There would be no pity for her this side of death. She would only feel mercy again in the arms of her barbarian: when her world ended.

Her hands lifted in an attempt to protect her face as high as the chain allowed. She closed the remaining distance by curling her body into a ball and burying her head behind her trembling arms. If she could have dug her way into the plush carpet under her she would have but her tether to the ringbolt at the foot of Senator Goode's bed was too short to provide any leverage. Even the most remote fantasy of escape eluded her.

“Hush, now. Relax. Let me help you.”

The voice was definitely compassionate. It was not her Mistress' voice but it was female and familiar nonetheless.

“I'm going to make you feel better. I promise.”

The deep, low voice vowing the impossible made Jaimy believe something which her rationale mind rejected completely. She scrubbed her eyes with her thumbs in a frantic effort to clear her vision.

“Barbarian?”

“Who?”

Jaimy looked up and her heart broke all over again. It was not her barbarian come to rescue her. Or, even the barbarian's ghost come to guide her to the other side. Instead, it was the woman with the heavy black satchel. The doctor had arrived to repair Senator Goode's broken toy.

“Fuck,” Jaimy hissed and hid behind her hands again.

“You need to watch you mouth,” the warning was not unkind. “I'm going to make you feel better. Your Mistress said I can even release some of your chains if you swear you'll behave. What do you say?”

Jaimy tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry. She tried to gather her fleeting thoughts to answer. Glancing at the doctor kneeling next to her on the floor of Senator Goode's elaborate bedroom, Jaimy considered her reply carefully.

“Please, you must know how to…have something…to end this…please, kill me, please,” Jaimy managed her request with a reasonable enough voice.

The doctor grimaced and shook her head with a negative response. Jaimy was reduced to sobs. Warm hands smoothed her hair back from her face. They paused for a moment then resumed the gentle petting.

“You've got a fever. I'm going to give you a shot. It's some antibiotics. You probably have an infection or two.” The doctor leaned in closer and drew Jaimy's face up to look into her eyes, “I'm going to give you a second shot to calm you. It won't make you sleep. It will just relax you a bit so I can do my job and get you fixed up.”

Jaimy pulled her face away. She snarled like the wounded animal she had become. The Doctor sat back on her heels prepared to fend off an attack.

“Do whatever you're paid to do. I can't stop you. I can't even scratch my own ass the way she's got me chained down.”

Jaimy's strength was fleeting. She collapsed back into the same huddle Dr. Adams found her in only moments ago.

“I can't even get myself killed,” the words were whispered. “Barbarian, I'll never forgive you for saving me, for getting killed instead of me.”

Jaimy's tears were uncheckable. Her abused frame shook with her heaving sobs. She was so immersed in her own grief and pain she missed the Doctor's tender touches at first.

“Easy, easy, I'm going to help you. I can relieve some of you pain. Let me take care of you, Jaimy.”

Jaimy flinched at the sound of her name. “How do you know what I'm called?”

The doctor blushed a little under Jaimy's scrutiny. “I'm a fight fan. I've seen you practice many times.”

“You people watch us train?” Jaimy was surprised by the revelation.

“Sure, how do you think the bookmakers know how to set the odds? And, the odds just shifted dramatically in Senator Fitzgibbon's favor. Senator Goode is dead last since she lost her coach.” Dr. Adams explained. “Since you killed her coach.”

Jaimy thought about the information while the doctor gathered her supplies. The needle jab to the pronounced vein at her elbow brought her attention back to the doctor. A second jab returned her thoughts to her original and still unanswered question.

“So, how do you know what I'm called?”

Dr. Adams replied without making eye contact, “That brute of a woman started calling you Jaimy recently. I assumed you convinced her you liked it better than ‘little pig' but that's just a guess.”

Jaimy closed her eyes while the doctor inspected the new brand on her thigh. It was more elaborate than the DF above it. The flowery ‘TG' was still meaty and raw. Even the doctor's careful examination was painful.

“She wasn't a brute,” Jaimy said as much to explain as to distract herself from her suffering. “She was strong and vicious because they made her fight all her life. They made her fight for her own life. It's all she was allowed to know. But, she was my love, the love of my life.”

“I didn't know slaves spoke of love,” the doctor sounded a little bitter, “and in such romantic terms as well. Tell me, slave, are you a poet sold off by your country men because your verses were too beautiful to bear?” Dr. Adams mocked her.

Jaimy stayed quiet realizing she offended the woman but unsure how she managed to do so. Her silence provoked the doctor to take less care with the topical antiseptics for the brand. It burned but Jaimy refused to cry out or even look at the doctor.

“Spread you legs,” the doctor instructed.

The command provoked Jaimy glared at her. She tightened her thigh muscles as if to dare the doctor to force them apart.

Dr. Adams rolled her eyes and sighed, “It's not what you think. I need to clean the piercing. True never uses sterile technique. She barely washes her hands before dinner. So, spread ‘em unless you want your clit to rot off.”

“Let it.”

Jaimy defiantly rolled on her side away from the doctor. The resulting gasp from the woman was not expected. But, it was not enough to make Jaimy believe this woman was anything more than Senator Goode's dutiful repair person inspecting unanticipated damage to personal property.

“She's a sadist!” The doctor hissed.

Jaimy's back was a mass of blood and bruises. There was not a hand span of unblemished skin from shoulder to shoulder and from neck to hips. Jaimy's ass was down at least a layer of skin from a violent strapping. Burn marks ran up and down the length of Jaimy's muscular legs. But, it was the large ivory ring protruding from Jaimy's anus with the doctor touched first.

“No, don't,” Jaimy winced with the added pressure of Adam's grasp on the ring. “She says it stays in except for shitting and fisting. If you pull it out, you'll just have to shove it back in. I don't think I can endure that again today.”

The doctor ignored Jaimy. She placed a cold pack against the tortured flesh directly above the object. Cool water was liberally doused around the obscenely large sex toy.

“Okay, deep breath in and exhale,” Adams instructed.

Jaimy was too weak to do anything but obey. The enormous plug slid out much more slowly than it was shoved in. Cool water continued to cascade over her buttocks easing the exit even more. Jaimy realized she was weeping but could not contain her tears.

“It's okay. I won't let her do that to you again.”

“Can't stop her, she owns me.”

The doctor continued to apply deliciously cold compresses to Jaimy's wounded ass even as she explained, “I'll tell her she caused a fistula and unless she want shit all over her, she'll leave your rectum alone. Trust me, True likes to play rough but she doesn't like fecal handling. She's never been into toilet games.”

Jaimy shivered when the doctor applied a cool cream directly to the torn flesh inside her ass. She tried to not to whimper but she couldn't help herself from making the pitiful noise.

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay. I'm gonna give you another shot. This one will let you rest. You won't feel another thing I'm doing. I promise.”

Jaimy felt the sharp jab near the previously pricked spot on her arm. A flood of warmth invaded her blood. She tingled from injection site outward. A thought interrupted her descent into the bliss of drug-induced sleep.

“Why?” Jaimy looked over her shoulder and tried to regroup her scattering thoughts, “Why are you helping me?”

Her eyes were drifting closed. The image of the doctor was fading in and out of focus. Seconds before her head hit the floor, she was sure she heard the reply.

“You're too beautiful to destroy, Jaimy.”

Chapter 15

Jaimy felt a shudder rattle her to the bone. Her heart was beating wildly riding the endorphin rush of her orgasm. Despite her ragged breaths, she strained forward to kiss the woman giving her so much joy. Their lips met and their mouths willing allowed access to the others' warm, firm tongue.

“Barbarian,” Jaimy murmured when they broke for air.

The passionate embrace ended. The woman stroking Jaimy's sex abruptly removed her fingers from between Jaimy's thighs. The soft bed gave a little bounce as the other woman climbed off of its comfort.

Jaimy rolled her eyes. She flung her forearm over her face as she struggled to catch her breath. A deep swallow of air later she was ready to issue a lengthy apology. Again.

“I'm sorry. It's me, totally me. It has nothing to do with you.”

The doctor was grabbing for her clothes even as she answered, “I know it's you! It is always you! Barbarian this, barbarian that. I'm sick of it. Do you want to get sent back to the slave pit?”

Jaimy silently sat up. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed her body up. Her knees felt like rubber but she forced herself over to the chair draped with the rags she was given to wear. While the clothes were worn and torn, they were at least clean. She lifted her right foot to shove into the jeans and almost toppled over. Before she could save herself, the doctor was at her side to hold her steady.

“Too soon to be up, I think. Come on, you need to go back to bed,” she said in a soft voice.

Jaimy shook her off. Her momentum sent her stumbling with her pants around her ankle. She managed to save herself by sitting down hard in the chair. She was flushed and breathless. Her belly was flipping from the exertion. But, she was too tired of her feigned deference to follow the instruction.

“Naw, just send me back to the pit, Missy Abby. I'm just gonna keep disappointing you. Can't seem to keep calling for my lover when you pop me good,” Jaimy hissed.

Dr. Adams straightened up and put her fists on her hips. She sucked on her lower lip watching Jaimy struggle to get her pants up her legs. When Jaimy tried to stand again to pull the jean over her thighs, the doctor stepped in and put a restraining hand on the slave's shivering shoulder.

“Please sit down. You're going to fall on your face.”

Jaimy snorted her reply, “Then it'll make it that much easier for you to rape my ass.”

It was Dr. Adams' gasp more than the pressure on her shoulder which forced Jaimy back into the chair. The doctor knelt before her and pull the jeans back off. Tears were rolling down Adams ' cheeks. Jaimy could not stop herself. She reached over and wiped away a tear with her thumb. She was rewarded with a kiss to her palm.

“I would never, never to that. You should know by now I'm not like your mistress.” Dr. Adams wept.

Jaimy patted the doctor's head buried in her lap. “Don't cry. I can't do tears. Come on, give a girl a break.” The remark got a sad chuckle but did not end the doctor's sobs. “Abby, I'm sorry. It was a low blow. I was just trying to hurt you. I know you're not like my owner.”

Abby Adams looked up but remained kneeling at the slave's feet.

“You're also not my love.” Jaimy tried to ease the pain of her words with soft kiss to the doctor's forehead. “You are a free person screwing somebody else's property. It is fun but it ain't love. It can't be.”

Abby looked down before she answered grimly. “It's close enough to love for me. I'm desperately for you, Jaimy. You're all I can think about. If I could afford to buy you…,”

“That would be a mistake,” Jaimy barked out the words indignantly.

“We could be together,” Abby tried to explain.

Jaimy shook her head, “I would resent you holding the other end of my leash. I'd grow to hate you for keeping me like some kind of pet. It's better to leave me with somebody I hate already; Mistress Goode.”

Abby's features hardened as she pressed on, “Look, True isn't going to let you stay in the guest room with me forever. She's going to figure out you're healed enough very soon. I've already told her she can't be rough with you again. She caused too much damage the first time. If she can't use you for her sex games then she's going to lose interest in you and toss you into the slave pit for training. You'll be back to fighting for your life. And, it will be a short life that will end on First Eve. Trust me, you're an interesting fighter but you've got no chance in the games.”

Jaimy smiled as she stroked Abby's soft cheek. “Good.”

“What?”

“Can't you see? My life is already over. It was over the day Cletus captured me. Everything after has been a nightmare.”

“Even your Barbarian? She was a nightmare too?” The doctor was infuriated by the statement.

“Yes, she was the worst nightmare of all. They made me depend on her and then I came to love her. And, they killed her right in front of me.” Jaimy's eye filled with tears as she asked, “What could be worse?”

“Dying yourself,” the doctor answered.

“No,” Jaimy was assured in her response. “Dying will be a relief.”

“I don't think I could stand to see that.”

Jaimy chuckled. “Then you'll have to close your eyes because it is going to happen. You need to tell my mistress I'm ready for the pits. Better sooner than later. Let's make a clean break, Okay?”

“No,” Abby shook her head. “No, please not today. I want one more day.”

The doctor leaned up and captured a kiss from Jaimy's trembling lips. She sucked the slave's tongue into her mouth. A moan sounded softly when the double tongue piercing caressed Abby's own tongue. Neither was sure who made the sound but both felt it deep in their chests.

“No, you need to send me back today. It's best for you. Trust me, you don't want to know the pain of losing your one true partner,” Jaimy tried to coax the doctor to action.

Abby buried her face in Jaimy lap again with a sob. “As soon as you walk out the door, I'll know that pain. I'm in love with you, damn it! Can't you see that? I'm hopelessly in love with you.”

“I'm sorry,” Jaimy closed her eyes but there were no tears to still. “I'm not in love with you. Send me back where I belong. Send me to the slave pits to die.”

* * *

Jaimy shuffled along behind the soldier in the crimson red jacket. She kept a measured gait to keep her steps within the length of chain between her ankles. However, it required a quickened pace to keep the soldier from yanking on the leash attached to her collar.

“Don't want to fall or look like I'm being dragged when I meet my new teammates,” she thought to herself. “Wouldn't want to get off on the wrong foot with them, now do I?”

The gallows humor brought a brief smile to her lips. Of course, Senator Goode's slaves were waiting for her. They were not happy she killed their coach. She was certain they would try to kill her long before First Eve.

She was not wrong. Once she and her escort entered the practice yard, the slaves stopped their exercise routines to stare at her. Not one of them looked in the least bit friendly.

“Oh, there probably as nervous as I am,” she joked to herself. “They don't know whether to say hello first or just get on with ripping me limb from limb.”

The soldier walked her over to a cage in the middle of the practice field. He unlocked the door and motioned for her to enter. Jaimy raised an eyebrow in response and held her ground. The soldier gave a dramatic sigh.

“It's to give them an opportunity to get accustomed to your presence. So get in. I don't have all day.”

Jaimy held out her shackled wrists and answered, “I'd rather take my chances in general release than sit like a target behind those bars. Please, take my chains off. Let me defend myself, sir.”

The guard slapped her and growled, “Get in!”

She spit a mouthful of blood before answering, “Go ahead and kill me now because that's all that'll happen once I get locked down. Go ahead, kill me. I can't stop you.” She rattled her chains for emphasis.

“Fine,” the solder grumbled.

He took out his keys and began unlocking the fetters. Once they were all off, he grabbed them up and snarled at Jaimy.

“You're not gonna last an hour.”

“You lips to God's ears.”

Jaimy's reply was a bit too sweet for the soldier's liking. He shoved her out of his way and headed for the gate with an announcement.

“Anybody that lays a hand on her gets an extra cup of rations.”

The mob surged as one to tackle Jaimy.

“Great, just great,” she muttered as she kicked her first attacker in the balls.

* * *

“I'll give you this, you put up a good fight, bitch,” the man with blood pulsing from his nose said.

Jaimy hung legless between two panting men. Her head lolled on her shoulders. Blood dripped from her ear and a jagged rip down her left arm. She struggled but it was not to get free of their clutches; that was, quite simple, not possible. Instead, she fought to lift her head and face the portly man standing in front of her.

“Finish it,” she managed to utter.

He stepped toward her and grabbed her around the neck. His thick but stubby fingers were unable to wrap completely around her. He began to squeeze and she smiled.

“Wait, Orr, wait!” A voice called across the open field.

The strangle hold was released and Jaimy cursed the interruption, “Fuck off, asshole!”

Orr backhanded her to silence. He turned to the approaching figure. His voice indicated patience with a small hint of annoyance.

“Atticus, we're in the middle of something here. If you didn't get your shots in earlier that's too bad. This fight is over. The bitch's been punished enough. Now, she dies.”

“Here, here! Well said! Well spoken,” Jaimy chirped up and received an addition slap.

“Orr, don't kill her. She knows things we need to know.”

Jaimy glared at the boy hobbling over to them and spat, “Stay out of it, kid. I'm no good to any of you. Nothing I can tell you that you won't figure out on your own. Let's get on with the dying part of the action.”

Orr backhanded her again. “No wonder they kept you gagged! Shut your mouth! I'll kill you when I'm damn good and ready and not a minute sooner.” He looked back at the boy and asked, “What are you babbling about?”

“Those round house kicks and the flip she just used on us; we need to learn those. And, that launch she did in the game! That's a good one too. We've got nothing like those in our game plan.” The boy was leafing through a sheaf of paper scraps. “Never mind she was taught by two of last year's survivors. Killing her is a complete waste of a resource. Besides, she's another pair of hands. We're working short without coach.”

“God rest his soul,” the group mumbled as one.

“For cripes sake!” Jaimy shouted with renewed anger. “I ain't gonna teach you nothin' so just get on with killing me! Do it, you fucking cowards! Kill me!”

Orr rolled his eyes before asking the boy, “Got any more paper on you or a rag or something? Forget it, I'll use her shirt.”

Orr ripped off part of Jaimy's tattered sleeve. He balled it up then grabbed her by the chin. He pressed his fingertips into her jaw forcing her to open. With a firm push, he stuffed her mouth with the material. Jaimy muttered bitterly but was notably quieter than before.

“Ahh, peace at last,” Orr grinned. “You, Franklin, get something to tie the bitch up with so Roosevelt and Clinton can tend their own wounds. Okay, Atticus, take me through this good and slow.”

Jaimy was dumped face down on the grassy field. A knee was planted in the middle of her back to discourage her from trying to get up. Her arms were pulled behind her and held tightly.

“Sweet! She's got D rings!” The man tying her up announced happily.

Jaimy's muffled reply got the gathering of fighters laughing.

“As you were saying, Atticus,” Orr said as he squatted down a few feet from where Jaimy was being restrained.

* * *

It was getting dark. The cool air of evening was a relief after the heated afternoon. However, the mosquitoes were feasting on the bound slave. Jaimy was left in tied up in the grass as the other slaves went about their usual business. Orr and Atticus spoke at length several feet from her but most of what they said was completely boring. Jaimy's training was far beyond the limited experience and planning abilities of Senator Goode's team.

“They haven't got even a slim chance to survive the first round,” Jaimy thought grimly.

The boy, Atticus, was young. As much as Jaimy wanted to resent him for interfering with her murder, she found she could not work up the emotion. When she looked at him all she felt was grief. He was going to die in the games. There was no doubt in her mind he would not survive. It was not merely the lack of skill possessed by Senator Goode's team. It was because the boy was lame. His left leg was mangled. Most of the calf was missing and a large chunk of the foot as well. He could barely walk.

“How can he ever manage to fight?” She thought grimly.

Atticus hobbled over with a bowl in each hand. He sat himself down in the grass next to her with remarkable grace. After setting the bowls in front of her, he spoke.

“Orr told me to get you fed. You're staying right where you're at for the night, sorry,” the boy sounded like he meant he was actually sorry too.

Jaimy closed her eyes with the thought, “He's got no shot at living to see next summer at all.”

Atticus misunderstood her grimace. “I'm really sorry. What Orr says we do now. He's the closest thing we got to a coach since you, you know, killed our last guy.”

Jaimy nodded understanding and the boy seemed to relax a little.

“No sense in scaring him. No point to that,” Jaimy thought.

“Okay, I'm gonna pull your gag out. Please don't bite me. I'm only doin' what he told me to do. I'm only trying to help make you feel a kind of better.”

Jaimy nodded again. Atticus took a deep breath before approaching her mouth. With just his index finger and thumb, he snagged a piece of the cloth stuffed into Jaimy's mouth. He pulled his hand back quickly and the rag followed. Jaimy gave a couple of hearty coughs once her mouth was emptied. She worked up a small amount of spit and swallowed.

“Thanks, kid. I'm not gonna give you any trouble. I promise,” Jaimy said hoping the boy would relax somewhat.

The boy gave a nod and pushed the bowls closer to Jaimy. “These are for you. I'll come back and get them when you're finish.”

Jaimy glanced up at the bowls and then back at the boy. “Could you untie me so I can feed myself?”

Atticus shook his head. “Nope. Orr says, no. You should eat like the dogs do. He said you'd know how.”

“You can tell him I said he should fuck himself.”

Jaimy rested her head back down on the grass. She was going to do her best ignoring the rations sent to her. While her dignity was compromised all afternoon, Jaimy had no intention of contributing to the continuous shaming of her personhood.

“No way I'm gonna say that. I like my backside.” Atticus stated firmly. “And, if you like your skin then you should eat and drink what he sent you. Food and water supplies are hard enough to get without an ignorant slave acting like she's too good for what we're willing to share.

“Then fuckin' untie me! I'm not eating like no dog so you all can sit around laughing at me,” Jaimy fumed.

Atticus fired back at her, “Everybody got too much stuff to do to be wasting time watching you. That's why we tied you. So get over yourself and take what I'm giving you.”

The boy's words rang in her ears. Jaimy shifted to look up at him. His eyes were red rimmed. The kid had been crying.

“Where'd you get these rations, Atticus?” Using his name tossed him off balance and he couldn't think of a lie fast enough to tell her. “This is your supper, isn't it? You givin' me your stuff? You can't do things like, kid. You'll never survive if you're givin' away your food.”

Atticus wiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “I ain't got no hope in Hell of livin' if you don't help us. Have you seen us fighting? We're pathetic! We couldn't even get within ten feet of your Captain. And, we were armed and you guys weren't. We're gonna die, bitch. Unless you help us, we're as good as dead.”

“Jaimy.”

“Huh?” Attacus was confused by her statement.

“My name is Jaimy. I don't like anybody but one woman calling me anything other than Jaimy.” Jaimy halfheartedly explained.

She shifted on the grass to inch in closer to the bowls. The water was crystal clear. Dipping her tongue first, Jaimy realized it was cold and fresh as well. She lapped about half of it before turning to the other bowl. It was filled with a pasty light brown substance. Again, she dipped her tongue in first to try it before taking a mouthful. It was sweet and slightly warm. She ate about half before easing back from the meal.

“Okay, I'm full. You have the rest,” Jaimy stated in a no nonsense tone of voice.

Atticus beamed with delight. He grabbed for the food and shoveled it in before chugging down the water. A deep burp punctuated the completion of his meal.

“Thanks for sharing,” Jaimy softened her tone with the boy.

He grinned and replied, “No problem. It was my pleasure. If you want, I can see if there's any dregs left in the cooking pot.”

“No, I'm good. I haven't had a lot of food in the last few days. Don't want to overdo it, now do I?” She said with a wink.

“Guess not,” the boy mumbled. “I'm sorry but Orr won't let me untie you. I asked him a couple of times but he's seriously no, no, no about it. Maybe tomorrow, after you help us, he'll let you be free.”

Jaimy shut her eyes as the boy walked away. Her mind raced with the words.

“No kid,” she thought to herself. “Orr ain't got the power to free me. The only thing he can do for me is get me killed.”

Chapter 16

Two rows of men and women moved forward with uniform steps. The sound of their booted feet hitting the frosty, hard packed dirt was much the same as a drum beat. Or, perhaps, a heartbeat. A single voice shouted a lone count and the formation broke.

“One!”

Every other person in the second row stepped back twice for each step forward of the still advancing group. Another shout lifted up before their left feet fully slammed down next to the right.

“Two!”

Every other person in the first row turned one hundred and eighty degrees into the gap. Still, another shout counted off the subsequent maneuver.

“Three!”

The members of the newly created third row raced forward. In a striking act of uniformity, they jumped and landed their right feet into the waiting hands of the former first row members now facing them. Two precision summersaults brought the eight down in an even line several feet ahead of the continually advancing pack.

“Attack!”

The command broke the tight formation into a splintering front. Men and women charged an imaginary enemy until a whistle blew. Each member of the team staggered to a stop and dropped to the ground exhausted.

“Nicely done!” Orr yelled to the group from his spot next to Atticus at the far end of the field.

“Thanks for nothing,” a panting man hollered back.

Chuckles broke out among the temporarily lounging slaves.

Atticus turned over several sheets of scrap paper in his lap. He quickly scribbled lines and arrows. Then he scratched out one arrow and redrew it more carefully.

“What you got?” Jaimy asked as she dropped down on the balding grass beside him.

Sweat was dripping from her nose. She was minimally out of breath but her muscles were sore from hours of launching through the air and landing on the unyielding ground more than a half of a dozen times.

“Well,” Atticus rubbed his chin while reviewing his notes, “we got more height that time but lost a couple of inches in distance.”

“Shit!” Orr cursed and stood up to pace back and forth in front of them. “We got to get them lard asses running faster. Speed'll give us the distance and height we want.”

Jaimy shook her head. “No, we're goin' as fast as we can expect and keep lined up. We need to stick the landing at the same time and side by side more than we need a few inches here or there.”

“Maybe, maybe we should break out a solo jumper,” Atticus pulled a piece of dirty paper from the pile in his lap. “If we have one jumper at their weakest zone then we have potential to get another foot or two closer to their goal territory.”

Jaimy thought for a moment before looking over the boy's shoulder at the diagram. “We need to save that maneuver for a big win potential. You know, taking out their team captain or coach or mascot or whatever.”

“Right,” Atticus agreed and duly noted the plan at the bottom of the diagram.

Jaimy ruffled his sweaty hair and praised him, “Good thinking. You are gonna save our asses one of these days.”

Atticus blushed deeply. Orr tried to cover his own amusement by clearing his throat. A woman hurried over and offered some water. Orr readily accepted the mug. He grinned then gave her a smack on the butt.

“You comin' to see me later?” He asked with an uncharacteristic crack in his voice.

She shrugged, “You gonna make it worth my time to come see you or are you gonna fall asleep again?”

“Nothin' says you can't wake me up.”

“Ask her to do the impossible, why don't you?” Atticus chimed in with a blush.

Jaimy snorted a laugh. “She'd have an easier time wakin' the dead than wakin' you up.”

“Hey,” Orr complained, “I'm supposed to be in charge here. You're all supposed to respect me.”

“We do,” Jaimy reassured him. “We respect that you are a very sound sleeper.”

“And, a big eater,” Atticus added with a serious nod.

The woman giggled, “And, an old fart!”

“Fine,” he nearly pouted until she broke his souring mood with a sudden kiss to his cheek.

“I'll figure out a way to wake you up, lover. Don't worry, I won't let you miss out,” she whispered before kissing his lips lightly before she returned to the others milling around the rain barrel.

“If they didn't fix me, I'd have given her a baby every spring,” he muttered glumly as she walked away.

Jaimy noticed Atticus frown and glance down at his own crotch. His hands drew closer to the area in question.

“Hey, it don't hurt you none,” she said in a soft voice. “They're sure to give you something so you sleep while the doctor does the…,”

“…slicing…,” Orr filled in the word.

“Awe, shit,” Atticus whimpered and covered himself with both hands.

“Whatcha' say that for?” Jaimy reprimanded Orr. “He's nervous enough. Don't need you scarin' him more.”

Orr's face was very serious. “I'm not trying to scare the boy. Really, Atticus, I'm not. It's just, when it was me…they didn't give me nothing. And, they cut me deep.”

“What?” Jaimy was horrified.

“I can't talk about it no more,” the boy covered his ears and closed his eyes. “They're comin' for me soon. I just know they are. One of the guards told me the doc was here. She came in this morning. She's got the fixins' to cut up me and the other three with birthdays just gone by.”

Orr sat down next the frighten boy. “I know. I heard she was here too. Look,” he gave a sigh as he put his arm around Atticus, “they tied me down good and tight. Couldn't move an inch. It burned like a sonnabitch' but you just scream your head off. Nobody'll think nothin' ‘bout it. Every man here knows how bad it bites.”

“Fuckers,” Jaimy hissed.

She glared in the direction of their owner's home. It was a beautiful building just beyond the fence penning in the slaves. She knew from her own experience a little more than month ago that the inside of the Senator Goode's home was as impressive at the outside. Unfortunately, it housed a shallow and cruel woman who fit perfectly into an equally viscous society. A society which believed itself to be the pinnacle of civilization yet routinely enslaved, raped, and sterilized outsiders.

“We got much more practice left today,” Jaimy asked without taking her eyes of the lovely home in the distance.

Orr shrugged but kept his arm around the boy, “You got somethin' better to do?”

Jaimy nodded yes.

“Then you'd better get to it,” Orr directed.

* * *

Jaimy shuffled behind the guard leading her on a leash. She measured her steps to stay within the length of the short chain between her ankles. Her wrists were shackled as well and secured to a chain looped twice around her waist.

She stumbled slightly as she stepped over the threshold leading to the slaves' infirmary. It was little more than a shed with three sturdy tables for examining injured slaves. On the floor at the head of the tables were ringbolts. The guard stooped and locked Jaimy's leash to the bolt for the first table in line. He took her by the upper arm as he stood and helped her get up on the table. Jaimy kept her head bowed but bobbed her silent thanks for his assistance. The guard left without responding.

Jaimy waited. She rehearsed her speech over and over in her head. It sounded more and more foolish with each practice run.

The click of high heels on the wood floor drew Jaimy's attention to the door. Dr. Adams stood staring at her with her satchel in one hand and a water bottle in the other. Jaimy noticed how drawn the woman's features had become and how her clothes hung on her thinning frame.

“The guard said you needed treatment,” the doctor stated professionally but did not move a step closer. “Something about bleeding from your ass related to your previous damage.”

Jaimy shook her head. “No, I lied. I don't need medical care.”

Dr. Adams glared and hissed her response, “I could have you flogged for dragging me out here on a whim.”

“You could have me flogged for no reason or for any reason. It's one of the perks of being True's friend and free.”

“How dare you?” Adams dropped what she was carrying to pounce on the slave. “You don't get to talk like that!”

Adams slapped Jaimy across the face. When it did not elicit the emotion she was looking for, Adams slapped her again. Still, no tears or begging so Adams backhanded Jaimy. She watched with a mixture of surprise and shock when blood began to run from Jaimy's nose.

“Feel better?” Jaimy asked in a soft voice.

Dr. Adams shook her head no before breaking down into tears. She covered her face with both hands and wept.

“Please don't cry,” Jaimy hushed. “I need your help. Please, we don't have much time to talk to start with. It'll be even less if the guards hear you crying. They'll think I'm hurting you.”

The doctor shivered at the truth of the words. However, she tried to calm her tears. Wrapping her arms around her body, she took two deep breaths. She sniffled a few times before she felt a small amount of control return.

“What do you want?” She asked without looking up.

“You're here to castrate the boys, right?”

Dr. Adams recoiled at the accusation. “No, nothing like that. That's barbaric. It is a simple sterilization procedure for the young bucks…,”

“They're boys not bucks. They are boys no more than fifteen. They are not animals.”

“I never said they were,” Abby defended herself. “The government designates their status, not me. They're categorized as bucks versus stock. It's only for pricing purposes. The government also legislates that bucks be sterilized at the first sign of facial or body hair. It's a precaution to prevent inbreeding.”

Jaimy glared at the woman. “No, it's done so the Masters can breed us like animals instead of people being allowed to fall in love and raise their own children.”

“I don't make the rules, Jaimy. I live within them. All I can do is offer my services to owners looking to meet their legal obligations in a clean and safe manner. You know, there is no regulation about who carries out the procedure. A lot of stables let the senior guards do it after a two hour training session.” Adams saw Jaimy's jaw tighten. “Look, I don't even charge owners for this so they're more likely to let me take care of it. For the next two weeks, I'm working almost nonstop to get as many done as possible. I don't want to see needless suffering. I don't want any kids hurt.”

Jaimy softened her voice, “Then help them the way you helped me. Use an anesthetic.”

Dr. Adams eyes went wide with the request. “Are you mad? There are laws about medication distribution. Slaves do not qualify for Limited Quantity Medicine.”

“And, you're okay with that?” Jaimy asked bitterly.

“Do you have any idea what the penalty is for breaking the Medication Protection Act?” The doctor swallowed hard before continuing. “Revocation of citizenship; I'd be sold to the highest bidder at the next monthly auction. Then I'd be fighting on First Eve. Fighting and dying. Is that what you want to happen to me?”

“Never! I'd never wish this life on anybody. Especially, you.” Jaimy was startled by the information. “I'm sorry, Abby. I didn't know there were rules like that. Forget I asked. I just wanted it to be easier on the kids. That's all. But, I don't want you to get in trouble. It's not worth risking you.”

Adams stepped closer, “I'll give them extra pain killers. There's a few of those without restrictions. It's all I can offer.”

“Thank you.”

“It's not much. They'll still feel everything. It'll just take the edge off,” the doctor explained.

“It's more than they had goin' for ‘em before you walked in here tonight so thank you,” Jaimy said. “How ‘bout you? Are you okay? You look…you look like…,”

“Hell? Go ahead, you can say it. I look like Hell.” Adams interrupted. “I'm not doing so good lately. All I seem to spend my days doing is trying to stop thinking about you. I miss you.”

“I'm sorry,” Jaimy was truly remorseful. “I shouldn't have faked being hurt and dragged you out to see me. It ain't fair to you. I'm sorry, Abby, really sorry.”

Adams shrugged. “You wanted to help the bucks…boys. It is admirable. And now, you can go back feeling like a hero because you did help them.”

“No, I hurt you in the process. Heroes don't go around hurtin' innocent bystanders.”

“Am I innocent?” Adams asked with tears forming again.

“Only you know the answer to that. Only you know what's in your heart.”

“My heart is shattered. It only wants you. Can I touch you?” Adams stood a breath away from the bound woman.

“I wish you would. I really do wish you'd stop crying and just fuck me,” Jaimy's next comment was cut off when Adams forced a kiss to her lips and her tongue in Jaimy's mouth.

“I don't want to fuck you, Jaimy,” Abby muttered.

Jaimy whimpered and strained forward to nuzzle her face into the doctor's shirt.

“I want to make love with you,” Abby clarified.

Jaimy's pierced tongue caressed Abby nipple to hardness. Her head was drawn closer when Abby ran her fingers through the short blond sweat dried hair.

“No,” Jaimy begged her. “Let me suck your pussy. I need to taste you. I need to serve you.”

Abby drew back slightly to look Jaimy in the eyes. “I know you are just saying that. The only cunt you'd truly kneel before was the Barbarian.”

Jaimy's denial was silenced behind Abby's finger to her lips.

“I can live with that. I don't mind pretending you're mine,” Abby gave a halfhearted smile. “Even though you'll only me mine for a little while, it is better than never again.”

Jaimy could not deny the truth to Abby. The woman deserved to let the truth stand if nothing else.

Abby stepped back to allow Jaimy space to get off the table. Jaimy did not pause to stand eye to eye with the doctor. She immediately dropped to her knees and opened her mouth. Abby unzipped her pants and let the slave attend her needs.

Jaimy's tongue piercings tortured the doctor's swollen clit. Abby steadied her swaying body by leaning forward and bracing her arms on the bench. Shivers ran the length of her spine leaving her gasping for air. She thrust her hips against the mouth servicing her trying to increase the depths reached by Jaimy's penetrating tongue.

“Please,” Abby moaned.

Jaimy answered with a nip of the throbbing tissue at the apex of doctor's sex. Abby grabbed Jaimy's head and held her firmly in place to ride the thrilling sensation to completion.

“I don't want to be finished yet,” Abby muttered as Jaimy licked spilled juices from the doctor's trembling thighs.

“Then don't be.” Jaimy suggested, “Strap me down to the table and fist me. We're not making love, Abby. We're just fuckin' each other to get us through this screwed up world.”

“If that's what you really want then maybe I should tell True you're ready to return to her bedroom.”

Jaimy smirked. “I want to get fucked not disemboweled. Come on, she pierced something back there and it's making me horny as all Hell.”

“Want me to take the piercing out?” Abby offered watching Jaimy shove her pants passed her hips.

“Not on your life!” Jaimy chuckled and she bent over the bench. “Just get your hand in my ass and help me out a little. I'm sick of doin' myself.”

Abby wet two fingers in Jaimy's slippery pussy.

“You're gonna need more than that,” Jaimy directed. She was rewarded with the doctor's whole hand skewering her cunt. “Oh, yeah, start like that. Might have to forget punching my dung hole if you keep doing that.”

“Not a chance,” Abby promised as she settled down over Jaimy's body. “I'm gonna fuck you like this first. Then I'm gonna push into your ass up to my elbow.”

“Sweet talker,” Jaimy whispered seconds before stars exploded behind her tightly squeezed shut eyes.

Jaimy was still shaking with her orgasm when Abby pulled out of her soaking pussy. She used two fingers to stretch open Jaimy's ass hole. They slipped in easily and bumped against the barbell like piercing.

“Son of a…more, please, harder, fuck, do it, just do it,” Jaimy's hips were bucking trying to increase the force of the thrust.

Adams obliged by slamming into the tight canal with her fist. She ignored Jaimy's howl of pain. She knew better than to think the slave wanted to stop. Jaimy craved this now. True corrupted the slave's sense of self and made her need the suffering in order to achieve absolute pleasure.

Jaimy tensed her thighs to hold the doctor's fist in place. Adams edged deeper into the slave and then added two fingers into Jaimy's sloppy pussy. The slave shook and screamed and came hard; not once, not twice but many times.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Jaimy mumbled drifting off to an exhausted sleep with the sound of Abby's muffled cry ringing in her ears.

Chapter 17

Jaimy sat chewing on a blade of grass. Orr was squatting next to her. Both sets of eyes were fixed on the slaves' infirmary. Other than the yelps and whimpers, the boys made when the guards dragged them inside, no sounds emerged from behind the shut door. The guards, initially, were casually leaning against the wall on either side of the entryway after they finished restraining the boys. However, the longer the time dragged on without cries of pain the more restless the men became.

“We should be hearing all sorts of commotion by now,” Orr muttered. “There's something up, for sure.”

Jaimy squinted over at him and gave a shrug but offered no explanation. She planned to keep her theories about the silence to herself.

“What's the meaning of this?” Dr. Adams screamed as she flung the door wide open.

Guards jumped to attention. The senior man snapped a sharp salute.

“Beg pardon, ma'am. Meaning of what?”

Adams snarled and strode within a breath of the man, “Those bucks are malnourished! They must be lacking protein. As soon as they saw the needle, they passed out! Every one of them is out cold. Still!” She made a great show of pointing at Orr and Jaimy, “You two, gather a few others and haul those bucks back to their beds or whatever the likes of you sleep on. Keep their wounds clean. Be sure they get fed and watered before anybody else; guards included. Senator Goode's team counldn't win a three legged race with a stable in this condition.”

“Ma'am, I don't know what you mean,” the guard began.

“Save it! I'm a doctor. I know when I see inferior stock. Those bucks have potential to harden up but not without the proper feeding, watering, and grooming. Now, I'd put myself on report if I were you soldier. You've failed the Senator. I have every intention of seeing to it you get your stars busted into bars! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the guard saluted again but somewhat sluggishly. “You heard the doctor, get to it.”

Orr and Jaimy were on their feet before the words were out of the guard's mouth. Several other slaves hurried over to assist them. None of them spoke. The group moved passed the incensed doctor without raising their eyes. As they crossed paths, Adams reached out and snagged Jaimy by the arm.

“Not so fast.”

Jaimy stopped immediately. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground. Adams roughly took hold of her chin and tipped her head up.

“This is the one with that nasty ass infection,” Adams tisked. “I might as well check it before I leave. Go on, girl, get inside.”

Adams shoved Jaimy toward the doorway and followed two steps after her. The pair waited outside until the slaves finished carrying the unconscious boys away. The push on her shoulder moved Jaimy forward and into the building. She didn't stop walking until Adams slammed the door shut behind them.

“Thank you,” Jaimy hushed without turning around.

Adams wrapped her arms around Jaimy and kissed her neck. “For what?”

“For whatever you did. For scaring the guards so bad they'll never realize the boys are drugged and didn't just faint. For this,” Jaimy said as she turned in the embrace to face Adams and bestowed a feather light kiss.

“I don't know what you're talking about, slave. I'm just examining you for a fever,” Adams stated between several more kisses.

“Are they going to be okay?” Jaimy asked and reached into Adams pants.

The doctor shivered when Jaimy's cold fingers entered her. “Yes, they'll sleep for a few hours. Make sure they have plenty to drink when they wake up. If any of them are slow waking up in the morning then walk them around for a half hour every hour until they get it together.”

Jaimy watched Adams bite her lower lip. The woman breathed in deeply through her nose. A soft grunt marked her climax. Jaimy cradled her as she shuddered in its aftermath.

“Thank you,” Dr. Adams whispered.

Jaimy had no worthy reply so she just caressed the woman's warm skin with soft kisses.

* * *

Jaimy settled onto the hard bench nailed to the wall of the idling truck. She readied her D rings for the restraining chain, which would link her to the slaves on either side of her and hold the whole line in their seats. A middle bench separated her from the line of slaves bound to the wall on the other side of the truck.

They were unprepared when the guards herded them together before the morning meal was done. None of the slaves realized it was even close to time for First Eve. Jaimy was fairly sure the deadly event was still a month or so away. Pandemonium erupted once the slaves saw the truck backing into the compound. In the ensuing chaos, she lost sight of Atticus and Orr. She felt badly about losing them when all that remained of their lives could now be measured in days if not hours.

“There she's at,” Orr's deep voice rumbled.

Jaimy looked up and saw him with Atticus dragging behind. They were shuffling into seats against the far wall. She gave them a quick head nod. The pair grinned in return.

“Told ya she'd be sitting pretty when we found her, boy.” Orr said loud enough for her to hear. “Jaimy's the one to watch in the games. Where she goes the win will follow.”

“Don't bet your life on that, old man,” Jaimy warned. “I'm in the middle of the lot of you and we got no chance of winning nothing. ‘Cept maybe, a spot in an open grave.”

“See everybody, she thinks we're gonna make it to be runners up,” Orr bellowed a laugh.

The macabre humor rumbled through the truck. Moans and chuckles followed. However, the group's tension eased with the banter. They may, in fact, be heading to their deaths but they were among friends.

Once the chain slipped through Jaimy's D rings, she leaned back against the wall. She shifted slightly to find some comfort in the tight and rough-hewn confines.

“Don't want to look dead already when they unload us at Third Bowl Stadium. That would just ruin their fun of getting to watch us die.”

Jaimy's sarcastic thought hit a nerve. She began to turn the idea over in her mind.

“Perhaps, just perhaps, this might be the last First Eve. Maybe the worst team ever can make it so,” her mind raced with the possibilities.

* * *

They stood in a loose huddle behind the bars leading to the gaping opening to the vast stadium. Many teams were already locked in large cages around the field. Many of the stadium seats were already occupied for this parade of the walking dead.

The chain fastened to them in the truck still linked them together. Even if they were free of it, they would have stayed in a close cluster. Jaimy was speaking but her voice was pitched low. The message was just for them. It was the makings of their plan. They were fermenting a revolt.

“None of us,” Jaimy said, “or any other slave out there stands a chance to live. Even if by some miracle you survived and won this fight, our Mistress would just keep training you. Next year you'd be in the exact same spot. It ain't living like that. It's just breathing.”

“So, what'll we do? Walk out there, drop to our knees, and give ‘em our throats to cut?” One of the men asked bitterly. “I ain't saying you're wrong but to just give up and get slaughtered…,”

Jaimy shook her head. “We ain't giving up and we ain't talking about being slaughtered.”

“Then what are you talking about?” Atticus asked.

“The first four rounds are just hand to hand. We need to get the word out to the other teams about the plan during the first two rounds. Round three they'll let us draw blood. Round four they expect deaths. Round five they demand genocide.” Jaimy explained. “We need to be sure not one drop of blood is let in round three. Nobody hits anybody. If we refuse to fight then it's over.”

“They'll kill us,” the woman cuddled in Orr's arms stated the obvious.

Atticus spoke up. “We're gonna die anyway. Do you want to die trying to kill somebody as weak as you or do you want to die saving your humanity?”

Jaimy looked at the boy in amazement. She was right about him. He'd never survive to see next summer. He was too pure to endure the horror of the games.

“It's better to be a dead man than a desperate slave,” Atticus explained with a blush in his cheeks for the group's undivided attention.

Jaimy gave a nod. “I understand it is too much to expect you to answer now. I'll respect any answer I get. Everybody's got to figure out their own path here. But, I'm not swinging at anybody. Coach was the last man I killed. I shouldn't have done it. I should have killed the man who forced us to fight. I won't kill again,” she grinned, “unless True Goode falls into the field. Then I'd have no problem snapping one more neck before my time is done.”

The group laughed lightly.

Orr finally spoke. “I didn't know you were a dreamer.”

“Just started.”

“I'm with you. Your plan is as good as any. Anybody object?”

The group was silent.

“Spread the word any chance you get but keep the guards out of the loop. They'll know long before we hit the field what we're gonna do but they might try to stop us from getting to most everybody if they figure us out too soon.”

“Jaimy, they're coming,” Atticus warned as the guards approached the bars.

“Look lively! The bookies are here to see the goods today. Show ‘em your swagger and bare your teeth like the vicious little killers you are,” the guard bellowed as he turned the key in the lock. “Don't make me have to encourage you now.”

His grin was chilling. Jaimy allowed herself a sneer in his direction. The command had been to show some teeth and she welcomed a chance to display her venom.

“That's the way, give ‘em a show!”

Jaimy did her best to keep her fists at her side. She let all of her anger play out across her brow. Sweat formed on the back of her neck in spite of the cold wind whipping across the open field. They marched out in two straight rows to be inspected by the competition and the odds makers.

“Atticus? Atticus, that you?”

Jaimy turned toward the emotional voice. A man stood by the bars of the first cage. He was reaching through in a hopeless bid to touch the passing line of slaves.

“Dad? Dad, Dad!” Atticus screamed and stumbled.

Orr grabbed the boy to pull him along. Atticus fought to get away. Of course, he was no match for the grown man holding him by his chain.

“No, it's my Dad! Orr, you got to let me talk to him. I thought he died. Please,” Atticus begged.

Orr held his tongue but Jaimy could see the tears gathering at the corner of his eye. The big man ignored the boy's pleas and continued to pull him. He forced Atticus to keep up with the team.

“No!”

“Don't make me carry you,” Orr hissed.

“Atticus…I love you!” The man in the cage called after them but only sobs replied.

Jaimy steeled her emotions as best as she could. She had no intention of letting them see her cry or lose control to such a point the guards would gleefully subdue her. She drew herself up tall trying to squeeze ever inch of height she could call her own. Her no nonsense glare dared the caged slaves to challenge her.

“No time like the present to establish a pecking order,” she thought as she focused her narrowed eyes from one frightened face to the next.

A face from the past caught her attention. She could not suppress the grin spreading across her face. Cletus stood near the bars of the third cage in line. He was so bloodied, broken, and bowed, his owner did not bother to chain him.

“Justice,” Jaimy muttered.

Her new found joy shattered seconds later when her eyes settled on the next cage in line. The Captain was carefully assessing her team. His expression shifted from shock to concern. He shouted something unintelligible over his shoulder and Jaimy's former teammates scrambled to obey. Jaimy stumbled to a stop when she saw the woman being guided over to the bars.

“Barbarian?” Jaimy gasped.

The barbarian seemed much worse for wear. Her once rock solid body had thinned to the bone and her skin was a sickly yellow. She shivered and swayed trying to hold her balance. A filthy rag was wrapped around the barbarian's head covering her right eye. Or, more likely the hole where the right eye had been. It took a few moments for the barbarian to find Jaimy. Her hands grabbed the bars and she howled. It was a deep and pain filled sound that only anguish could cause.

Jaimy ignored the shouts of her new teammates and lunged toward the barbarian's cage. She struggled but the sheer number of men and women she was bound to kept her well out of the barbarian's reach.

“Fuckin' A! Let me get to her!”

The guard's fist to her face was the last thing Jaimy saw but a lone scream echoed in her ears as she crumbled to the ground.

“LITTLE PIG! MY LITTLE PIG!”

Chapter 18

Jaimy was not entirely conscious when they plunged her face first into the slop barrel. The splash of cold shocked her awake but her cry for air was drowned by the sludge surrounding her. Jaimy bucked against the strong arms holding her under the thick slime. She struggled because her body demanded the fight for her life but she knew it was futile. The men holding her were too powerful, her own body was too tortured, and the world was too unfair for her to win this battle.

Jaimy was not pulled out until her muscles began to slacken. Once her body was on the brink of unconsciousness, she was hauled back from beneath the slick depths. The chuckling guards carelessly dropped her naked on the frozen ground. She sputtered and choked trying to expel the foul grease sucked into her nose and mouth while she still gasped to drag oxygen into her starved lungs.

“Get her under the arms and dunk the rest of her. Be quick about it. We haven't got all day,” Ned instructed the mishmash of soldiers and guards standing around them.

Two younger men grabbed her by her wrists and biceps. Their tug simply slipped off her heavily lubricated skin. One cursed while the other wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her up close to his own chest. Jaimy could feel herself sliding out of his clutches but her legs were seized before she could wiggle her way to freedom. The men plopped her in the slop barrel feet first this time.

Ned shoved her head under again but Jaimy managed to squirm out of his hold quite easily. She pulled herself to the surface and tried to climb out of the barrel. Unable to get a firm grip, she could not hoist her body over the side. Ned laughed at her efforts before kicking the barrel over. Jaimy and the contents spilled across the ground.

“Okay, here's the exercise today,” Ned announced in a loud voice which seemed to echo in the cold air of the stadium. “We've got Senator Bullfinch's and Senator Carver's teams ready in the visitor's zone. Our newly greased pig is gonna run from the home team zone to the visitor's zone. The teams have to catch her and carry her into the home team zone. It's every man for himself so they'll be playing against each other as individuals as well as groups.”

“When do we rotate the players?” A soldier in a gray wool overcoat asked.

“After thirty minutes of play.”

“When do we rotate the pig?” Jaimy asked bitterly after getting to her feet.

Ned sneered at her. “They should never have taken that muzzle off you, Cunt.”

Jaimy glared at him but any comment was silenced by one of Sentator Goode's soldier asking, “When does she get rotated?”

“If she makes it into the visitor's zone or after six completions to the home team zone.” Ned grinned, “After six completions the team who scored the most gets to gang bang her. In the event of a tie, both teams get to have her.”

“What if none of them get me into the home team zone?” Jaimy asked.

The group of soldiers and guards laughed at her.

Again, Senator Goode's soldier forced an answer. “What if neither team score?”

“In that unlikely event, you get to hit the showers and have a snooze,” Ned said.

Jaimy shook her head. “That doesn't sound like an even reward system to me. I think I should get to fuck somebody if I beat the odds.”

The guards and soldiers all laughed. Well, everybody except Jaimy, Ned, and Senator Goode's soldier.

“Anybody specific you want to go down on?” Senator Goode's soldier asked.

Before Jaimy could reply, Ned spoke up. “She sucks that huge beast Senator Fitzgibbon owns.”

“Sounds fair enough to me,” Senator Goode's soldier stated.

“Then let's get on with it!” Jaimy declared.

* * *

Jaimy took her place in the home team zone. She looked down field at the eager faces of the men and women opposing her. They were itching for action. They had been pent up in cages for days on end. This was their chance to blow off steam and exercise stiff muscles.

“And, rape a total stranger,” Jaimy reminded herself.

Jaimy allowed a single shudder to run through her body. Goosebumps rose and quickly settled again. She scanned the edges of the field and noted the cages ringing it. All but two were filled with anxious slaves waiting their turn at limited freedom. The second to last cage from the visitor's zone, on her left side, held the barbarian. The half blind woman crowded near the bars symbolically closing the distance between her and Jaimy.

A shrill whistle sounded from the sideline. Jaimy broke into a wild run directly toward the surging gang facing her. She knew it was vital to get as far down field as possible before the first contact. She hung to the right and sprinted for all she was worth. Being naked and greased improved her aerodynamics significantly.

“Slight advantage for me,” she thought to herself.

She was past the half yard line when two of the quicker members of the opposing force broke from the pack. They dove for her once they were within striking distance. The younger of the two missed entirely but the other managed to grab and arm. Jaimy easily shook him loose.

“Bitch!”

The man shouted after her but she never looked back. Jaimy started to measure her pace and drifted to the left when the bulk of the other side were within a yard or two of her. The mass of slaves moved like one body and shifted to track her. She darted to the right in a mad dash. The men and women before her tried to follow the move. They bottlenecked into a tight knot and began to fight with each other.

Jaimy used their distraction to make her biggest move. She bolted straight down field avoiding the choke of players still twisting and turning to get over themselves. Several players broke free and charged Jaimy. They were closing on her quickly. She kept her focus and pushed back against the panic rising in her chest.

Jaimy stopped dead in her tracks. Three players skidded by her in unstoppable momentum. One woman managed to confront Jaimy but she was easily pushed aside. Jaimy then sprinted toward the cage directly across from her. Or, more specifically, she ran straight for the woman standing at the bars of the cage. All Jaimy could do now was hope the barbarian would realized what was expected of her.

With mere seconds to spare before Jaimy came to a crashing halt, the barbarian reached out between the bars and cupped her hands. Jaimy's foot found purchase in the palms and she was launched almost two yards further down field. Jaimy landed and started to slip. She aimed as best as she could and slid rest of the way into the visitor's zone. Laying sprawled on the cold ground, she panted hard trying to regain her breath.

“You cheating little shit!” Ned emphasized his displeasure with a heavy kick to Jaimy's ribs.

Jaimy curled into a tight ball gagging on the pain.

“You never, never learn! I'm gonna enjoy teaching you a lesson. You mark my words, Cunt, I'm gonna relish every scream when I skin you alive!” Ned screamed like a lunatic as he continued to kick the prone figure huddled on the ground.

“Sir, Sir, please, Sir, stop!” Senator Goode's guard maintained his composure as he tried to restrain Ned. “I can't let you beat the slave. You must stop at once. I insist.”

“Fuck you, Wendell!”

Wendell managed to shove Ned away and stood his ground over Jaimy. “She's not your property. You have no say in discipline with this one. She's my concern.”

“Don't cross me on this, boy!” Ned was seething.

“I wouldn't think of crossing you, Sir. But, I have my duty to carry out. She belongs to Senator Goode. You have leave to set up practice sessions but I must ensure the safety of the Senator's possessions.”

Wendell signaled several other guards over to Ned's elbows. Once he felt it was relatively safe, he knelt to check on Jaimy. His hands were gentle as he helped her to her feet. He gave her a quick look and satisfied himself she was not seriously injured.

“I think you've earned yourself that shower and snooze,” he said in hushed tones.

Jaimy shook her head, “I think I've earned myself the barbarian.”

Wendell gave a small grin. “Don't push your luck. Hit the showers. I'll see that you get back to your cage unmolested. That's all I can do.”

Jaimy could tell by the set of his jaw there would be no winning this argument. She reluctantly looked over her shoulder at the barbarian. The woman stood clinging to the bars. All Jaimy could offer her was a nod of thanks before she trotted off to the showers.

* * *

Jaimy's skin was bright red and steaming when she emerged from the shower. The soap Wendell gave her removed the grease coating her body but it also seemed to take a layer of skin with it. Still, she was cleaner than she had been in a very long time. Warm and clean, she could only imagine a handful of things which could ruin her mood. Unfortunately, one of those things marched through the open door as Jaimy reached for her pants.

“Hold it right there,” Senator Goode demanded.

Jaimy straightened up and obeyed. The Senator smirked at the instant response.

“Let me see the damage,” the Senator announced.

Jaimy kept her eyes down but knew Senator Fitzgibbon had entered the room. Following him were two soldiers. Jaimy guessed they must be Wendell and Ned.

“Look at the bruising! Is that a boot mark? Turn,” the Senator commanded.

Jaimy did as she was told.

“Slowly, turn slowly!” Senator Goode huffed, “For goodness sake, do I have to spell it out. Not that would do the likes of you much good.”

Ned snorted a laugh but offered no explanation.

“Wait,” Senator Goode demanded when Jaimy's back was directed toward them. “Blood! She's bleeding. Her back is torn wide open. Damn it!”

Jaimy slowly clenched and unclenched her hands trying to keep from making a sarcastic comment.

“It's not too much. Just a little scrape. It'll heal up.” Fitzgibbon tried to soothe the woman, “Really True, you're making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Ned was following instructions and letting the slaves stretch. They need to practice a bit or they'll be slow to start in the games. We don't want that. It'll throw the betting lines off.”

“He,” Senator Goode pointed at Ned, “he was told to stretch the creatures! Nobody said anything about beating them.”

“It's a given!” Ned hissed. “Discipline needs to be enforced with pain.”

“Enforce it on your own property! Mine is tended to by my soldiers. They are more than able to dispense suffering.” Senator Goode was shrill.

Fitzgibbon knew he lost the fight. “Okay, okay, he shouldn't have hit the slave. I'm sorry. I'll bust his rank and cut his pay…,”

“Fuck,” Ned cursed more loudly than he intended.

“Shut up!” Fitzgibbon ordered. “Now, True, what else can I do to apologize?”

True giggled and stepped closer to Jaimy. She ran her cold fingers up and down the heavily scarred back. The light exploration became a deep probe of the black and blue skin near Jaimy's ribs. Jaimy groaned when the finger tips dug in deep.

“This might cost me a win. I think I should get another pick from your stable,” True stated.

“That will leave me two players down,” Fitzgibbon grumbled.

“So what!”

It was quiet for a few heartbeats. True pressured the bruise again making Jaimy whimper in pain.

“Fine! You can take your pick of my stable.”

* * *

True held hands with Senator Fitzgibbon as they walked across the playing field. She led Jaimy on a short leash. Jaimy kept her hands at her sides and her eyes down. She wanted to give every outward sign of complete obedience. Not just because she wanted something but because they were being trialed by a handful of edgy guards and soldiers.

“What a rag tag mess!” True exclaimed when they reached the cage holding Fitzgibbon's slaves.

The man shrugged, “I have to field something. This lot will do.”

“Let me see. How should I pick? Eeny, meeny,? Or, the tallest?”

“Perhaps, the strongest?” Fitzgibbon suggested.

Jaimy spoke up, “Why not just pick the best?”

Ned stepped up to hit the slave but Wendell pulled him back. “Hands off, Sir.”

True turned and glared at Jaimy. “I did not give you permission to speak.”

“Sorry, ma'am. I thought you asked a question. You asked, ‘how should I pick.' I thought you wanted me to answer ‘cause I know the players. Didn't know you weren't asking me. Sorry, again,” Jaimy averted her eyes as she explained.

“Who would you tell me to pick? That hulking beast that fucks like a bitch in heat?” True laughed, “Well, she used to be a randy dog but I think part of her brain got skewered along with her eye. I don't think she's even jacked off since that arrow felled her.”

Jaimy held back her fury. “The barbarian survived last First Eve. You saw her save my ass this morning. No planning. No strategy. She's all instinct for the game. Ain't none better that I know.”

“What about the Captain?” True challenged.

Jaimy tried to appear indifferent. “He don't fight. He directs. You got Orr for directing.”

“And, it would be an added bonus for you, wouldn't it? You'd be spending every moment off the field on your knees lapping up the barbarian's juices again,” True sounded bitterly jealous.

Jaimy nodded. “Sure, I like to fuck her. It'll give me something to fight harder for, won't it?”

“It will at that,” True agreed. “More than you bargained for, I'll wager.”

Chapter 19

Jaimy's arms ached to hold her barbarian. The closer together they were without bars between them the more wrenching her need to touch the woman grew. It took all her will power to remain passive trailing behind her mistress. They were leading Wendell and the barbarian to the showers.

“If she doesn't perform well…,” Senator Goode began to threaten.

Jaimy blurted out, “We're fighting for our lives, Mistress. It's really motivation enough.”

True laughed but continued her sentence. “I was going to say, if she doesn't perform well then I'm pulling you out of the games and permanently installing you in my playroom. Well, as permanent as anything in that room can be. It sees a lot of action. Things tend to get broken, especially people. Ah people, they break so easily.”

Jaimy's belly flipped. She would rather lay down in front of a stampede of rioting slaves riding horses dragging nets of razor wire behind them than return to a life as her Mistress' plaything. Death was a much more preferable option than suffering through the rest of her life as a sadist's plaything.

Once at the door to the showers, True released Jaimy's leash. “Lucky you gets two scrub dubs today. Don't dawdle. Wendell, round up something half decent for the barbarian to wear. And, get some clean bandages or something to cover up that hideous hole in her head.”

“I'll see to it at immediately, Senator.”

“I'm going back to my rooms for a well earned rest. The entire day so far has been simply exhausting,” True said and waved the soldier and slaves on to do her bidding.

Jaimy entered the showers first and waited two steps over the threshold. The barbarian entered cautiously trying to adjust her limited vision to the dim lighting. She was not given any chance to stumble. Jaimy moved to her side and hugged her close. Shouldering most of her weight, Jaimy moved the barbarian to the shower head she had most recently uses.

“The water should still be warm,” Jaimy spoke in a soothing tone.

The barbarian took a few moments to form some kind of reply. “Don't smell so good.”

Her words were halting. She blushed with a growing frustration as she tried to convert her thoughts into speech.

“Don't look so good.” Her talking was starting to flow and she did little to help Jaimy undress their bodies. “Don't talk so good. Can't think no more. Hurt. Hurt all the time. Miss you.”

Jaimy let the words flow through her. They were slow and somewhat slurred but the resonance was still rich. It sent a chill down her spine to hear her lover's voice after so many long days believing the woman was dead. She wrapped her arms around the barbarian and held the feverish body close to her own much cooler skin.

“I missed you so very much. I thought I'd never see you again.”

“Died? Thought me died?”

Jaimy nodded.

“Me wish.”

Jaimy understood the barbarian's rationale. Their lives were misery. Together they had found some peace to make it bearable. Alone, each minute dragged like an eternity. Dying did seem better. Until, today.

“Let me get you washed up. Then I'm gonna clean up your wound.”

The barbarian shook her head but her words would not come.

“Please, we've got so little time alone. I don't want to waste it playing nurse when we could put this room to really good use.”

The barbarian seemed horrified at the idea. “No. Ugly. Can't. No do it. No more.”

Jaimy let out a sigh and turned the water on full blast. “Hey, you were not in pristine condition the first time we fucked. Why would you think you'd look better the closer it got to First Eve?”

For the first time in a very long time, the barbarian managed to laugh. It was a small rumble followed by a cough but it was a laugh none the less.

Jaimy was diligent in her cleaning of the barbarian's pale but filthy skin. She rinsed and lathered and washed and rinsed and lathed and washed over and over. She could tell the process was wearing on the barbarian. Turning the taller woman toward the wall, Jaimy helped her support herself by leaning against it. Jaimy moved directly behind her and pressed against her back. She let her hands lather the barbarian's sex. A soft moan indicated to Jaimy the woman had indeed missed her touch.

“I'll only enter you if you say so.”

“Say so,” the barbarian mumbled.

“Thought so,” Jaimy chuckled and proceeded to reacquaint her fingers with the warmth of the barbarian's center.

Jaimy humped against the barbarian's ass cheek while the woman rode her fingers to ecstasy. Other than short grunts, the pair was silent in their abandon. As much as they were enjoying their pleasure, neither would become careless enough to forget the danger of the world around them. Their movements slowed as their bodies calmed after the rush. They were reluctant to separate but both understood their time alone was growing shorter by the heartbeat.

“I need to clean up that eye now,” Jaimy cleared her throat before hushing her plan.

The barbarian shook her head. “No eye for to clean. All gone. Empty. It empty.”

Jaimy ignored the statements. She lowered both of them to the floor with the barbarian facing her. She tried to steel her emotions to deal with the grime image before her.

The barbarian's face was a mask of ghastly white skin hanging over sunken cheeks. Her trembling lips were practically bloodless. The full, thick brown hair capping her head was wilted and knotted with dirt and blood. A foul stench wafted from the cruddy, torn shirt wrapped around her head like a bandage.

Jaimy's hands lifted to remove the rag covering the wound. The barbarian cringed and whimpered. Jaimy took the barbarian's left hand and placed it over her own right breast.

“If I hurt you tug on this. Otherwise, play with my tit while I do my work here, okay? Stop distracting me. Don't want me to slip up ‘cause you flinch, now do you?”

The barbarian fingered the bar spiked through Jaimy's nipple. “You hurt? Who hurt you?”

The sudden anger in the barbarian's voice surprised Jaimy. She had not thought of her lover as territorial prior to this moment. However, there was never before a need to be possessive. Jaimy knew on a primal level she belonged to the barbarian. Regardless of the barbarian's faithfulness or lack of faithfulness to her, Jaimy understood her body was the barbarian's domain. Unfortunately, the masters who owned them would not agree with this assessment of their situation.

“I wasn't hurt,” Jaimy reassured the barbarian with a lie. “She marked me that's all. Just new brand, a few piercings…,”

“You fucked? She do you?” The barbarian's voice deepened with her fury but her caress of Jaimy's nipple remained feather light.

Jaimy took the barbarian's free hand and kissed the palm. She reverently placed the captured hand between her legs. A soft sigh escaped from Jaimy's mouth at the familiar touch.

“This, this pussy belongs to you and only you.” Jaimy cupped the barbarian's unscarred cheek with her hand as she spoke. “It is yours to fuck or suck or discipline as you see fit. Our Mistress took what she wanted but only you can have me. Only you own this cunt.”

“Not cunt. My little pig,” the barbarian whispered.

She relaxed and settled back against the wall. Her eye drifted closed but her hands continued to stroke Jaimy's body.

Jaimy dug into her grisly task. The bandage was tied tightly and the water raining down on them did little to aid her in loosening the material. She was just about ready to pull it off when a voice from the door stopped her.

“Here, here, not like that. Don't tug it. If there's a scab you'll tear it off and start it bleeding again.”

Dr. Adam's spoke as she hurried her steps over to the pair. She shut the shower off before kneeling next to them in the puddle slowly draining into a nearby grate. Reaching into the bag, she pulled out a pair of bent scissors and handed them to Jaimy.

Jaimy was hesitant to accept the weapon but relented when she realized it was just the three of them in the shower. The barbarian glared at the woman and then turned her attention toward Jaimy.

“Fucked you too! She too? Pig? Why?”

“Wow,” Dr. Adams chuckled, “no cognitive deficits from her injury, it would seem.”

Jaimy hissed back, “You're not helping with comments like that!”

“Sorry,” both of her lovers spoke in unison.

Abby grinned at their unique alliance. “I'm Dr. Adams. I'm going to help Jaimy clean out your wound. If you let me help her, that is. And yes, you are correct, Jaimy and I have made love...,”

“Fucked!” The barbarian corrected. “You fucked my. Pig's my. Got it? Got me?”

Dr. Adams edged back slightly from the incensed woman. Jaimy moved closer to the barbarian. She reached between them and guided three of the barbarian's fingers into her sex.

“This is yours. Nothing else matters. If you need to prove it to her then take what belongs to you right now in front of her. I won't stop you. I've got no right to stop you. This little pig is your bitch.” Jaimy made the promise before kissing the barbarian.

A low hum followed as the barbarian experienced Jaimy's pierced tongue for the first time. She swallowed hard once the kiss ended. It took her several moments to retrieve the words she needed.

“Good. So good. Better. Like that.”

Jaimy smiled and settled in closer to her lover. When the barbarian tried to remove her hand from Jaimy's sex, Jaimy placed her hand over it and pushed it back in snug.

“This is better too,” Jaimy reassured.

“Okay, if we finished with the drama then could you cut the rag off her head? I need to see what we are dealing with underneath the wrappings,” Adams directed quietly.

Jaimy complied. Dirt and blood clots and material fell off. Jaimy began to breathe through her mouth when the smell worsened with the loosening of the covering. Once the bandages dropped away entirely, Jaimy had to swallow hard to force back a gag.

The wound was horrendous. It was a gaping opening where a beautiful eye had been. The tissue was blackened from burning. Jaimy figured the Captain did what he could to cauterize the damage and stop the barbarian from bleeding to death. Livid red tissue surrounded the burned skin and puss pulsated beneath a heavy crust waiting to erupt with the slightest bit of pressure.

“Ah, better than I hoped it would look. Whoever patched you up should have gone to medical school. If he could do this well with no tools then I bet he might have even managed to save the eye with the proper equipment,” Adams leaned in close, mindless of the odor, to inspect the injury.

Jaimy stared at the woman with a dropped jaw. Her heart nearly broke as she realized the doctor's bravado was to comfort her more than to give a medical opinion. That realization never hit the barbarian. She was encouraged by the assessment.

“No chance save eye. Skewered. Dead center. Pupil. Direct hit,” the barbarian explained with the enthusiasm of a warrior.

The doctor showed genuine interest. “Seriously? He must have got lucky. The coach wasn't that good a shot.”

The barbarian grinned and shook her head no and cocked her thumb at herself. “Stepped into it. Aimed me.”

“Stop it! No. You tried to take it in the eye? A direct hit? Give me a break. No way,” Adams chuckled as she grabbed supplies from her bag.

“Did. I did. Thought dead. Die fast. Like that,” the barbarian clarified her intent by snapping her fingers.

Adams thought about it before bending into her work, “It probably should have killed you instantly, you're right. The tip must have hit the orbital bone and broke off before it could enter your brain.”

“Naw,” the barbarian corrected her, “tip dull. Too dull. Stupid coach. Tips sharp. Sharp tips kill only.”

“Enough!”

Jaimy's shout interrupted their pleasant banter. Her stomach was turning from the smell of infection and her heart was racing with fear from how close the barbarian came to death and her mind whirled with gratitude for Abby's kindness. Jaimy understood then the depths of Abby's love for her. She had no way to repay the woman. Jaimy loved the barbarian and only the barbarian.

“You're right.” Abby nodded in understanding, “We have to stop jabbering and get to work. Jaimy, you're a bit of a slave driver.”

“More than bit,” the barbarian agreed.

Jaimy frowned in disapproval of the comments. Both women were silenced by her expression. The barbarian returned her hand to Jaimy's breast and the doctor set to the messy job before her.

The work was tedious and back breaking. Dr. Adams debrided the wound and flushed it multiple times. When she was satisfied the exposed tissue was healthy, she instructed Jaimy to help the barbarian cut and wash her hair. The doctor directed the hair to shorn close enough to the barbarian's head so no strands hung around or over the wound.

“Bald,” the barbarian complained once she caught site of herself in the puddle of water at her feet.

Jaimy chuckled as she shut the shower's spray off. “Relax; it just makes you look scarier.”

“If the scarier lady would take a seat so I can show Jaimy how to patch up the wound then we might get finished up in here today,” Dr. Adams' tone was more patient than her words.

Jaimy led the barbarian to a bench near the doctor's bag. She stayed on her feet behind the seated woman. The barbarian's hand reached up and took hold of her fingers and kissed them.

“Love you,” the barbarian muttered.

Jaimy leaned forward and nuzzled the barbarian's neck. She placed a quick series of kisses along the warm skin just above the woman's collar. Their lives were most likely reduced to days or maybe even hours, they would not lose out on any more time comforting each other.

“Okay,” Adams began with a handful of gauze. “You need to pack the wound tight. Press the gauze in deep even if it hurts her. You need to keep the hole stuffed.”

Jaimy watched as the doctor worked. The barbarian held perfectly still and did not even groan. The process looked painful. Jaimy was sure at the very least it was uncomfortable but the barbarian did not betray and weakness.

“She's in full bad ass mode,” Jaimy thought to herself.

“This bandage goes on last. It's water proof and has a super adhesive along the edges. Once it touches a surface it's stuck there. It takes a special gel to counteract the adhesive. We'll need to use it to remove the bandage. Fortunately, the bandage only gets changed once a week.” Adams grinned, “Barbarian, I need you to keep perfectly still. Jaimy and I have one shot at getting this thing on straight and tight. Okay?”

The barbarian remained fixed but gave a thumbs up to indicate she was prepared.

“Jaimy, take the edge like this. We are aiming to get the wound centered under the patch. Understand?”

Jaimy nodded but did not trust herself to speak. She wanted to get this finished as quickly as possible. They had already taken more than two hours treating the barbarian. Their mistress could grow impatient and have them hauled out before Adams finished her work leaving the barbarian vulnerable again.

“Alright, on three. One, two, three.”

The bandage went on smoothly. As the doctor had explained, it sealed firmly to the skin. There would be no slipping or loosening when the barbarian was forced to fight. The barbarian smiled broadly at the completion of her care. She gave a brief nod to Dr. Adams before standing and wrapping her arms around Jaimy. The pair clung to each other in both relief the wound was treated well and exhaustion from the effort.

“I'm going to let Wendell know you two can be returned to the cells,” Abby said as she snapped her bag closed. “So hurry up and pull some clothes on.”

The barbarian whirled on the doctor and stepped very close to her, “Cages. Animal cages.”

Abby looked down as she acknowledged the truth of the words. “Yes, they are very much like animal cages.”

“Not nice,” the barbarian stated.

“No, I don't suppose they are,” Abby agreed.

The barbarian hooked her thumb over her shoulder toward Jaimy a few steps behind her. “Hurt her.”

The doctor shuffled backwards at the accusation. “No, no, I don't think I did. I wasn't trying to, I mean, it was not about hurting her.”

“Don't.” The barbarian stated flatly.

“Hey,” Jaimy moved between the pair to end the conversation but the barbarian hushed her.

“I don't want to hurt Jaimy. You may find this hard to believe but I do love her. Not desire or crave or need; I love her,” Abby confessed.

Jaimy was startled when the barbarian took her by the arm and pushed her toward Abby. “Take her. Save her.”

“Wait a minute,” Jaimy manage to only get those words out before the barbarian clamped a strong hand over her mouth.

“Sorry.” The barbarian whispered the word in Jaimy's ear but did not release her. “Doc save you. Save her Doc. Do it.”

The heartbroken tone in the barbarian's voice caused the doctor to look away to gather her emotions. She spoke with a crack in own voice. “I would if I could but…,”

“No but. Do.” The barbarian was getting angry.

Abby bit her lip and decided to level with the barbarian. “She won't be safe with me. She'll grow to hate me. She said so herself. She'll force me to beat her or sell her or have her executed. You know how stubborn she is.”

The barbarian nodded in agreement.

“Jaimy only wants you. If you aren't with her then she only wants to die. I can't save her, barbarian. Only you can save Jaimy. The only way to do that is to let her stay at your side whatever comes your way. She wants to be with you, barbarian. That's the only kind of saving she wants. I love her enough to let her go. Do you love her enough to let her stay?”

The barbarian gave a hesitant nod.

Dr. Adams responded with a gentle but sad smile before she picked up her bag. Then she turned her back on the women and walked out of their lives. Jaimy knew she'd never see Abby again. Jaimy was grateful the barbarian kept her muzzled her during their final encounter. It was not out of fear of what she might say but of the certainty that Jaimy had nothing left to say to Abby.

“You, me, die.” The barbarian stated and released her hold of Jaimy's mouth.

“Together,” Jaimy clarified.

“Good.”

The barbarian sighed and hugged Jaimy. Jaimy easily settled into the embrace. They were both relieved their future would be violent but short. They had tried but there was nothing they could do to change their fate. Being condemned provided a level of peace neither had experienced before and they were grateful for it.

“I love you, barbarian,” Jaimy whispered.

The barbarian chuckled, “I know.”

Chapter 20

Jaimy cuddled closer to the barbarian's warmth. Some of the heat was fever driven but the injured woman was finally starting to sweat. Jaimy hoped the infection was beginning to break.

They sat separate from the others near the bars at the far end of the cell. The rest of the occupants were huddled together near the cage door. Wendell kindled a fire to life in a trash can about fifty feet from the bars. It provided some warmth to the shivering bodies huddled together against the cold, dark night.

Jaimy and the barbarian snatched a blanket and moved away from the group moments after they entered the space. They wanted time apart and alone. It was worth losing out on a few degrees of body heat to enjoy the comfort of each others arms.

“Won't work,” the barbarian stated before nuzzling her cold nose against Jaimy's neck.

Jaimy continued to stroke the barbarian's sex as she replied, “Not fighting is as good a plan as we got.”

“Torture,” the barbarian responded.

Jaimy paused her actions as she considered the words.

“No. More. Please,” the barbarian whimpered. “Need to feel. Need you.”

“I'm right here,” Jaimy reassured. “Don't worry, I'm not letting you get more than an arm's length away from me for the rest of our lives. But, I hadn't thought about them trying to torture anybody. I figured they'd just kill us outright if we didn't fight. What do you think they'll do to us? Starve us?”

The barbarian shrugged. “Don't know. Tomorrow know.”

The whip cracked down against the ruined skin which had been reduced to a bloody pulp. The woman stretched out against the X frame had stopped crying out long before this hit. In fact, she had not moaned or moved in well over an hour.

“Two hundred and fifty,” Ned announced the count. “Flip her over and secure her. Don't want her sliding off before we dispense the next two hundred and fifty.”

Several guards laughed. However, Wendell and his detachment of soldiers did not. They stood grim faced watching the punishment just as the slaves in the cages were watching.

“She's dead, Wendell,” Jaimy, grasping the bars, hushed the words. “They can stop now. She can't suffer no more for them.”

“Ain't for her. This beating is for the rest of you.” Wendell turned to face Jaimy with a furrowed brow, “It was plain stupid not obeying the rules. When you hit the field you got to fight full force whatever is at the other end of the stadium. No wrestling or tagging or kick ball; hard hitting and maiming is all that will be tolerated. I know you're an urbanite but you better figure this one thing out right quick; you will fight to the death. Every slave in this stadium is going to battle until there is only one team left alive. Preferably, only one member of one team should be left alive but a handful from the same team will be acceptable as well. So, get it through your head and then make the others understand.” His frowned deepened, “Otherwise, she's only the first who'll die an ugly death.”

Jaimy stared at the exasperated soldier. She could tell he didn't like what he was explaining. He was repeating whatever he was told to say.

“It don't have to be like that. We'd have a chance if only a few of you soldiers…,”

His baton hit the cage bars driving Jaimy back a foot or two. “Never suggest anything like that ever again. If you do then I will personally rip your tongue out of her mouth and stuff it down your barbarian's throat. I hope you understand me!”

Jaimy nodded mutely. If the barbarian had not placed her hands on her trembling shoulders then Jaimy was quite sure she would have collapsed with fear. Wendell's anger was boarding on insanity. Not one free person in New Roman seemed to possess any shred of humanity.

“It really is the end of the world,” Jaimy thought to herself and dropped her tear filled eyes to the ground beneath her feet as the guards continued to beat a dead slave just to make a point.

The barbarian raced directly for the opposing team's end of the field as soon as the starting whistle sounded. She slammed bodily into a charging line of four or five hulking men. The gaggle of them toppled over in a heap of swinging arms and kicking legs.

Jaimy steam rolled directly behind the barbarian and used the tangle of bodies as her spring board for a front flip. She got good height which would shorten her distance but all she actually needed to do was distract the other team members not already struggling with the barbarian. While all eyes were on Jaimy's acrobatics, her team mates raced down the sidelines. They were already within striking distance before the other team noticed their approach.

Jaimy planted a solid landing and swatted two players to the ground before the end of play whistle blew. She gazed down the length of the stadium and assessed the destruction. Bodies were strews across the field. Most belonged to the other side but several were her team mates. Blood wept from the gaping wounds and moans lifted from those still strong enough to give voice to their suffering.

Two from her own side trudged back up the field toward her. They were stooped shouldered but their gait was strong. Their clothing was soaked with blood and their faces were spattered from the spray of red. One man's hand clutched the head of the leader for the opposing team. She realized with a jarring shock that they must have kicked the head loose. It was only then Jaimy actually heard the crowd in the stands roaring their approval of the carnage all around her.

“Fuck them,” Jaimy hissed.

She turned to try to find the barbarian. The woman was only a few feet away and walked toward her. The grin on her face lessened Jaimy's concern for her wellbeing even with the amount of blood and bruises paint across her cheeks.

“Is good!” The barbarian announced.

Jaimy allowed her lover to grab her in a strong hug and spin her lightly. “Is good!” The barbarian said again and placed a small kiss on Jaimy's lips.

“Is it?” Jaimy questioned unable to hide her bitterness.

The barbarian considered the question before answering. “Yes. Good. You and me and live. Them and them and dead. Is good.”

Jaimy closed her eyes trying to reign in her emotions. The noise of the crowd and the smell of the dead were like physical assaults on her. She could feel her knees buckling. The barbarian steadied her by pulling her closer.

“Hurt? You hurt?”

Jaimy shook her head before answering, “No, I'm just sick of the killing. I think I'm ready to get on with my dying.”

“Not soon. Die yes. Not soon yet.”

“Why not? Why not just let one of the other guys get in a lucky shot and go down? Why not let it be over?”

Jaimy continued to question even though the barbarian was leading them off the field. The barbarian began to chuckle which increased Jaimy's agitation.

“What could possibly be funny?”

“You. Not fight? You? No.” The barbarian led Jaimy into their cell while patiently continuing her explanation, “Round 3 done. Fight. Round 4. Live. Fight. Round 5. Die. Round 5 is die.”

The barbarian settled into the usual spot near the back of the cage. Jaimy let herself be pulled into the woman's waiting arms. The blanket was quickly wrapped around them. The barbarian inserted her fingers into Jaimy pussy and sighed.

“Is good. Wait die. Is good now,” the barbarian hushed in Jaimy's ear. “Fuck ten. Maybe ten and ten more fuck. More fuck. Then die.”

Jaimy's body was responding to her lover's touch but she was not ready to give into the rationale yet. “You're saying we should keep on fighting and killing just so we can screw around a few more times. You really are a barbarian.”

The barbarian laughed and stole a kiss from Jaimy. She took complete control of her mouth. She sucked the tongue piercings hard leaving Jaimy breathless. The barbarian's eyes twinkled with joy.

“Barbarian good. Fuck good. Live good,” the barbarian explained. “Dead soon enough. Dead for very, very, very long time. Live good at live time. Die good at die time.”

Jaimy relaxed her exhausted body against the barbarian. She allowed the woman to continue her exploration of Jaimy's sex and mouth and breasts. Soon the barbarian would flip her over and take her ass as well. Jaimy's cheeks flushed with both excitement and shame when she realized she was looking forward most to that part of their romp.

“When is dying time exactly?” Jaimy asked seconds before the barbarian shoved a fist into her snatch.

The barbarian smirked and answered, “When barbarian say. Then barbarian kill pig. Then barbarian kill barbarian.”

“Is good,” Jaimy breathed as her orgasm overtook her and forced all reasonable thought from her mind.

The scene on the field was chaos. Three teams were in play. They were unequal in all the ways that counted. One was unarmed, one was armed and the other was on horseback. Team members were separated almost instantly because of the pyramid alignment of the sides.

Weaker men and women were left running and screaming for their very lives. There was just nowhere to run and nobody hearing their screams cared about their lives. The crowd was clamoring for death. People of means filled the stands demanding blood and spectacle. The Senators they supported were providing just that; an orgy of gore.

Jaimy drove her short sword deep into the chest of an unarmed man. She tried not to care when he screamed in agony. She refused to flinch when blood erupted from his mouth in a torrent of red. And, she did not grimace when she kicked his still twitching body off her blade.

Sensing movement behind her, Jaimy lifted the sword to shoulder height and spun. A woman's head flew into the air leaving her body to crumble to the blood soaked dirt before Jaimy finished a full arch of movement.

A flurry of action to the left caught her attention. She saw a wall of a man knock Atticus to the ground with a kick to the jaw. The boy's sword landed several feet away. Instead of chasing the blade, the wall of a man pounced on the boy. He pulled the rag doll like body up and slammed a fist into Atticus' belly.

“Leave him be!” Jaimy shrieked and ran at the man preparing to level another hit to the limp boy in his hands.

The force of the blow tossed Atticus backwards into a heap at the man's feet. The man kicked the unresisting form several times. His chuckling burned deep in Jaimy's ears. She heard it clearly above the din of battle around her. She was certain she heard him laughing above her own voice crying out.

“Fucker!”

Jaimy's sword connected with the man as he turned toward her. It was a hacking downward thrust which edged between his nose and right eye. A solid crack shivered into the weapon's pommel as the skull shattered. A blood spray showered Jaimy but still she pushed down on the blade as the man dropped to his knees. When he fell over dead the sword was torn out of her hands from the shear weight of his corpse.

“Atticus!” Jaimy screamed at the unmoving body.

She scrambled over to him. Her head told her it was foolish to ignore the fighting surrounding her. There was nothing she could do for Atticus. Jaimy was a seasoned fighter. She knew what death looked like. It looked like Atticus did now; broken and pale and motionless. But, her heart did not want to acknowledge the fact of his life; it was over.

“Boy, wake up! No slackin' around. No time for resting. Get your butt off the ground. Let's go!” Jaimy cradled his lolling head as she rattled directives.

“He gone. Not you. Not yet,” the barbarian grabbed Jaimy by the hair and tugged her to her feet.

Jaimy struggled to get free. She lost her hold on Atticus and his body dropped in a lifeless pile.

“NO!”

The barbarian ignored her scream. She dragged Jaimy over to Atticus' sword and scooped it up. She shoved it into Jaimy's hand and forced her fist closed around the grip.

“You fight! You live. Barbarian live. Die sooner but later.”

The barbarian spun Jaimy around. They fought off advancing attacks with a previously unpracticed back to back stance. Together they defended themselves well. Orr and survivors from his rag tag team hurried over to stand shoulder to shoulder with the women.

It did not take long for other fighters to join with them instead of against them. Their defensive line grew wide driving a retreat of sorts. Former opponents broke ranks and melted into their advance. The men and women on horseback dismounted in order to show their allegiance with the growing rank of unity.

Jaimy spotted Senator Goode seated next to Fitzgibbon in the stands. She snarled at the pair. Before she thought the action through, Jaimy began to race directly for them. She heard the barbarian's voice but in her blind fury, she could not comprehend the words.

“STAND DOWN!” A voice boomed over the loudspeakers.

Jaimy was grabbed and pulled to a stop. The barbarian dragged her back. She allowed the woman to guide her.

“Open cages. More. better. Free. Then die,” the barbarian quickly detailed her thoughts.

Jaimy shouted the plan to the fighters standing behind her. “Open the cells! Everybody on the field! One chance. This is the only shot we get for ourselves!”

Pandemonium erupted on the field and in the stands. Pent up slaves were released and they flooded the grounds. Soldiers likewise raced into the stadium. The crowd in the stand was reduced to battling for the exits. They understood their lives depended on getting away from the rabid and loosed slaves. The knowledge sent them running and screaming.

The heavily armed soldiers deployed into a perimeter around the field. They easily surrounded the unorganized slaves. Regimented training allowed them to quickly get their guns and rifles cocked and aimed at the ramble. Jaimy grinned. It would all end very soon. She looked to her barbarian. The woman was smiling as well.

“Die now?” Jaimy asked.

“Is good.”

“Together then,” Jaimy whispered.

The barbarian turned to her and placed a soft kiss on her warm lips. Gun fire erupted but the pair clung to each other and held fast in the spot marking their defiance. A full scale riot exploded but Jaimy and the barbarian ignored the carnage.

“On three?”

“Is good.”

“One.”

Jaimy began the count without fear. She realized it was the only time since her capture she was truly unafraid.

“Two.”

They crossed swords and grasped hands. The points of the blades rested heavily on their breasts. Droplets of blood ran from the punctures into the tender flesh.

“Three.”

Each woman pushed forward onto the poised sword tips. Neither could find the courage to thrust into the other. They collapsed forward catching each other by the shoulders and sank as one to their knees. The swords remained midway in and out of their chests.

“Die now,” the barbarian choked out as her eyes rolled backward.

Jaimy's eyes closed as she breathed her last, “Is good.”

The End

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