The Little Slave Girl

Posted on Sat May 3rd, 2014 @ 9:59am by Lieutenant JG Teenah Spartacus
Edited on on Wed May 21st, 2014 @ 7:21am

625 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Revenge
Location: Around te Arena Support area.
Timeline: Near Feeding time.

ON

The fighting and dying always left a stench in the lower areas, the Servants quarters and Guard's had it a little better a level lower. The hustle and bustle of being a slave did not change anywhere; especially for an Orion female. If not giving some 'sensual Pleasures', they were working in the other areas. Basically those not 'worthy' of a bedding were forced into this area of labor.

The occasional marring that needed dermal regeneration and recovery time would not be done lounging but working while her wounds were healing over. The Broken jaw from an overly excited Klingon would mean blessed silence for the guards as an Orion female need not talk. The swollen part of a face that had a half closed eye under an eye patch was not all that out of place.

There were newcomers; they had been brought here to die, nothing so elaborate as fighting but just to slowly be executed in the fighting ring. Whispers of them being Federation ran like wild fire. She had heard some things of late; how the females were being used like Orions and then if they survived or resisted put back into fighting to see if that 'finishes them off?'

It was the uniforms that conformed to everyone there were Federation personnel here and how the legend of the Federation always coming for their people seemed a bit of hope, Her mind was filled with keeping her face from further harm, her eyes averted so not to make any aggressive statures and she felt almost naked in the lowest backed Halter typy dress with a v-neck to her navel and the skirt barely covered her bum while standing straight. It was better than no clothing or being under some pressure to please. Her left ankle was exposed, the fine tattoo that resembled artistic knot work was actually a 'Universal Pricing Code' among slavers. The language is Orion Syndicate, no one who did not understand the language would only see a pretty tattoo, that was the aim, mark all women but artistically favoring to the sensual appeal.

One of the guards came close to her, she cowered a little and gave the man a proper birth, the men liked thinking the women are scared of them. She was terrified of them in a way; one word from them and she could be sent for torture ... or worst. The guard feinted a step aggressively towards her and She saw it and her hands went up as she definitely flinched from being hit one too many times, looking at the ground so not to irritate him or maybe not see the blow coming before it lands?

The guard laughed and continued on his way.

She moved to the place where they put food on trays, just another female in the bunch; she had lost her name and anything that was her before becoming this person in a dirtier dress in a filthy exsistence. The food was for the fighters, no medicines for the dying and with the small bit of food they were likely to starve as well as be in pain.

Her Tray was heavy but she wished more weight of food upon it, she felt for the Prisoners forced to fight, no hope for them or the Slaves. She had listened to the murmurings; the boasting of the guards that Federation would never find them and how all of them would die slowly. The contempt for the Federation was obvious, but she knew that when the Federation lost someone they would always ccme looking eventually? She would be sure to keep her attention ready for that arrival; it was her only way out.

TBC


Little Slave Girl
Prisoner/ Slave labor

 

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