It seemed like hours that Sarah lay on the dirt floor of the darkening building, alone. Bound as she was, she was unable to roll from her chest and her arms and legs began to cramp. The rope cut into her ankles. She felt ripped open from her rape. At first, Sarah felt a growing rage at her degrading situation... her anger directed toward the one called The Falcon. She had never found herself in a situation she could not manipulate in some manner to her advantage. How dare he! Nothing but a cunt... Never! She was a Lady of status, wealth, a beauty who would have her way with the world.

But as she lay there alone, she realized the hopelessness of her situation. Her rage turned to despair, then to panic. Would she be abandoned there to die a humiliating, anonymous death? Would that be better than whatever might be in store for her? She realized no one at her home knew where she was... not that anyone would care. They wanted to be rid of her, had already sent her to slavery.

She had not heard him return. Her heart raced in terror when she heard him beside her, her head turned the other way.

"Cunt" was all he said, firmly.

The word ripped through her, tearing at her as brutally as the rape had earlier. Her rage returned.

"Lady Sarah" she spat back, struggling to turn so she could see him. "I am Lady Sarah Arlington!"

He laughed as he placed a foot in the middle of her back to stifle her struggle to turn. "I hope your namesake is as lively as your mouth, Cunt, or you will be of no value to me."

She felt the tears welling, something she had not felt since being a small girl, and stopped her struggle to turn toward him. She would not give him, or anyone, the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Falcon leaned forward, without removing his sandaled foot from her back, to untie the rope binding her ankles to the collar. His weight pressed Sarah's naked chest into the pebbles and dust on the floor and the air from her lungs. Moving off of her as he again stood, he pulled the rope upward, painfully bending her back. She felt the cold steel of a blade brush her left ankle as he cut the rope, freeing her ankles and dropping her unceremoniously back to the floor, raising a small dust cloud. Sarah hurt... very part of her body was sore or numb. She was confused as to what to do. She tried to regain her wits. She tried to move her arms, still bound to the stick behind her neck. Falcon stood over her, silent.

After several moments, he said, "Get up, Cunt. My time is short. I have things I must do with you."

"I am Lady Sarah!" she hissed!

"You are nothing here but what I allow you to be" he said firmly. "Your are no Lady, you are not a whole woman. Your are not even a person to me. Your are merely a cunt... and a troublesome one. Get up!"

Sarah resigned herself to her situation for now. She struggled to turn over, the stick binding her wrists behind her head kept her from doing so. Her legs were still numb.

Falcon reached down and grabbed her hair, pulling her to her feet. Her legs would not support her, and she sank back to her knees. He stared down at her, his cold eyes showing his impatience and contempt. He remained silent.

After several minutes, he again reached out, pulling her to her feet by her left arm. Sarah screamed out in pain, but this time she was able to keep her feet. She glared back at him in defiance.

Without another word, Falcon took a short rope that was hanging from his sash and tied it to the ring in the front of the collar at her neck. Sarah had no choice but to follow him, unsteadily, as he silently turned and led her away... like a worthless goat.
They went from the dark warehouse into the bright sun and onto into the busy street. People stopped and stared, respectfully stepping back as The Falcon led her through the street. Sarah felt such total humiliation. She was completely nude, wasted by poor diet and paled by the lack of sun. Her hair was filthy and wild. Her body was covered in dirt from the floor, dried mud caked at the vee of her legs where it had stuck to the remnants of her rape. And she was being pulled along at the end of a rope, like an animal... less than an animal.

The people in the street, mostly workers moving casks or sacks of things, some working on the walls or buildings, turned to nod in respect to the man leading her, and then to stare openly at her. Many pointed and laughed. Sarah could not understand their words, but she knew the comments were ribald.

Soon they came to a different section of the city. It was full of corrals filled with pigs, goats and cattle. It stank of animal waste. While Falcon was able to step deftly around things, Sarah, in her bare feet, often stepped in puddles or piles of excrement in the narrow lane. He never turned to look at her, merely pulling the rope if she hesitated or stumbled.

Falcon stopped beside a trough of clear, running water beside a cattle corral. A number of cows were drinking from the trough. He turned to her, his expression cold, his eyes boring into hers. "Drink" he said in the same tone he had always used with her.

Sarah looked at the trough, at the cattle drinking from it and hesitated. She had had nothing to drink or eat for hours, but she did not move.

"This will be your only water" he said, the corners of his mouth curling up ever so slightly. "It is my gift to you. Reject it if you will."

Sarah stood fast until he started to turn. She stepped toward the trough and, her hatred for him growing, bent down. And like a cow, she dipped her face into the water and drank, sating her thirst, feeling a bit renewed. It was only moments before he pulled at the rope, drawing her back up and continuing down the filthy lane.

Without looking back, quickening his pace a bit, he said to her "You will learn to thank me for my kindness, Cunt... my gifts to you. Even the air you breathe is a kindness, a gift. Anything more must be earned."

Sarah said nothing, glaring into his back as she stumbled behind him. Once she slipped a pile of wet dung and fell. He turned and stared impatiently at her as she struggled to her feet, now freshly coated in more stinking filth. Her wrists, still bound to the stick behind her neck, made it almost impossible to get up unassisted and very difficult to keep her balance while being pulled along.

They entered a new section of the stockyards. There were no longer fenced corrals, but high walled stockades... and cages. These were not filled with animals, but with people! There were dozens of them... men women, even a few children. Most had onyx skin like the man who had raped her, some were olive or tan skinned. None of them had her pale coloring. All of them were totally nude, many were chained or shackled. Like sheep in the spring, most had had their hair shorn. Many showed the marks of beatings. They stared quietly at the man and woman moving between the walls or cages. Most held expressions of despair... hopelessness. A few glared in hatred and defiance. These, evidently the most defiant ones, bore the marks of torture and wore heavy chains.

The lane opened into a large circular area with a spacious platform in the center. Upon the platform, men wearing flowing robes or the dress of mariners or farmers were inspecting small groups of naked human merchandise. They were poking and prodding the miserable people on the platform. Sarah saw one of the men, clothed as a mariner, reach and pull the cock of an olive skinned man, making some comment that made the others roar in laughter. Another of the men, with a different group, was lifting the breasts of an onyx-skinned woman, digging his fingers deeply into them. He then forced her to bend over, and drove his fingers roughly into her. When one of the male slaves stepped forward to protest, he was knocked, unconscious, to the platform by a slaver who carried a long, heavy stick.

At one side of the platform, a man was talking rapidly to a group who were staring at the small group of slaves he was pointing toward. Sarah recognized this was an auction... a slave auction. She halted until the rope pulled her along, impatiently. Was this to be her fate? Was she to again be sold?

Falcon did not pay attention to what was happening, nor did he turn to look at her. Hurriedly, he continued across the open area toward a group of stalls on the far side, pulling her behind.

He led her to a place where slaves were being roughly scrubbed. There he stopped and turned to her, looking back at the platform. She noted a slight change in his expression and tone. "This is the lowest of places" he said after a moment. "These are the scum of the earth."

Sarah could not tell if he was speaking about those being sold, or those who were selling and buying them. In either case, she could not see how she was any different from the other slaves, or how he differed from those who were trading in human flesh. Even toward Bulsford and Sweet Charlie, she had never felt such hatred in her entire life than she did toward him.

His gaze turned to her, examining her from head to toe. "You are a disgrace" he said, his voice full of contempt. "Not even the lowliest man would rut with you, Cunt."

She stiffened and glared at him.

He turned to a woman, obviously a slave, and ordered her to do something in the gibberish Sarah did not understand. Hurriedly, the woman grabbed a pail of dirty water, some rough rags and began scrubbing the filth from Sarah. Sarah recoiled but was brought up short by a pull of the rope. She stood in disgrace as the woman took the dung and dirt from her body.

Falcon issued another order to the woman, who did not raise her eyes to him. She took a rough, dirty rag and forced it between Sarah's legs, clearing away the physical remnants of Sarah's rape. Nothing could cleanse away the degradation. The rag crudely scraped the most tender parts of her gender. Sarah was able to hold back her cry of pain, staring coldly into the eyes of the man who held her very life in his hands. The woman finished by dumping the pail of water over Sarah's head, removing some of the filth from her hair, but leaving her looking like a drown rat.

Falcon nodded his satisfaction and again turned, pulling the rope. Sarah staggered behind, wondering if she would be put upon the platform, sold like the others.

Instead, Falcon led her toward one of the stalls at the side of the open area where a soot covered, deeply tanned white man was hammering something on an anvil. Sarah recognized the shop of a blacksmith. On the walls, she could see iron collars, chains and shackles. She was sure she was to be put in chains.

The smithy looked up as they approached and set his work aside, wiping his filthy hands on his apron. He came to meet the Falcon, bowing and addressing him in English. He smiled wickedly when he looked beyond Falcon to the drenched, naked Sarah.

"Welcome, Milord Falcon. How can Ord be of service to you today?"

"This is my property" Falcon indicated with a jerk of his head. "It is to be marked as mine."

Ord's smile widened as his eyes explored Sarah. Several of his teeth were missing, the others badly rotten. "Of course, Milord. And where should the mark be placed?"

Falcon did not turn to look at her. "On the left teat, well placed to be respectable" he said firmly. Sarah bridled when she heard the word "teat". Teats were on pigs; she was no pig. She was a Lady of position.

Falcon reached into a fold in his robes and turned to Ord, placing something in his hand. When Ord's hand opened, Sarah saw three gold coins in his palm. "For your service" was all Falcon said.

Ord's eyes grew large when he looked at the coins. "Milord. This is a year's income for this humble servant!"

"Be done with it quickly then" Falcom said curtly. "And do it well. I will not have it spoiled by careless work!"

Sarah noted he referred to her as an object, not a person. Her rage at him grew stronger still.

Ord pocketed the coins and nodded. His smile widened and he turned, went to the wall of the shop where he took down an iron rod. He took the rod to a glowing pile of charcoal, placing one end of it in the coals. The coals flared as he pumped the billows. After a few minutes, he took the rod from the fire, the far end glowing red.

Sarah gasped. She recognized what this was... a branding iron. The glowing brand was the silhouetted shape of a falcon in flight. She gasped and stepped back. Ord said something in gibberish to his two apprentices, who moved to hold Sarah still in their iron grips. Ord was smiling in the purest of pleasure when he moved toward her, his eyes glued to her breasts.

Sarah screamed out in pain as the brand was burned into her left breast, perfectly centered between the rosy nipple and where the breast began its swell from her chest. She could smell her own burning flesh. Sarah fainted.

Sometime later, Sarah was brought back to awareness by water thrown on her. See looked down at the branded breast, the clear symbol of Falcon's ownership, seared into her beast forever, showing red under that salve that had been applied to the wound. The pain was almost unbearable.

Falcon was talking quietly to Ord. Hearing her gasp, he turned and his cold eyes studied her.

"She is a handsome piece, Milord" Ord exclaimed. "She will fetch a grand price on the market."

"Perhaps" was all Falcon said, not bothering to look back at her. "It is of limited use to me. It is only a cunt. It claims to have once been a fine lady... but now..." He shrugged. "Blacksmith, would you make use of her for what she is, for a price of course?"

Ord's eyes moved over her, taking in her form, the color of her skin, the flaxen hair. He studied her breasts, then his eyes moved to her only valued parts, the juncture of her thighs and the soft, golden curls that adorned it. The lust in his expression showed clearly. She was so much different from the haggard whores or the cowering slave women that he always used to sate his carnal needs. Slowly he nodded his desire, lechery in his eyes. Then he paused. Falcon mentioned a price. The coins! Ord was certain the price would be the return of the three gold coins. He could not refuse the offer of this powerful man, and he did want to fuck this woman. He had been banished from his homeland by others like her. It would be a small source of retribution to leave his seed in such a woman. He reached into his apron and withdrew the coins, offering them back to the Falcon.

Sarah, still held tightly by the apprentices, struggled to free herself, glaring. It was hopeless.

Falcon chuckled and pushed away the hand holding the coins. He pointed to something on the floor of the shop. Ord looked confused and bent to pick it up. "This?" he asked uncertainly.

"If it is not too high a price" Falcon replied with disinterest. In Ord's palm, held so that Sarah and others standing around could plainly see, was a useless, worthless bent nail.

Falcon took it and placed it in the robes from which he had taken the coins and nodded his assent.

Turning to face Sarah, his leering, toothless smile sending cold shivers through her, Ord slowly removed his filthy apron and dropped it over a bench. His uncircumcised cock was engorged when he loosened the rope that held his canvas britches and he pulled himself free. Ord issued orders in his gibberish to the apprentices, who roughly pulled Sarah to the anvil, bending her over it so that her backside was pointed to the gathering crowd.

Ord walked up behind her, roughly kicking at her ankles so that she was forced to spread her legs wide apart... and then without preamble, he forced himself into her. Ord was a huge man, with very strong legs. With each thrust, he forced Sarah's hips into the sharp edges of the anvil. Once again, she was not prepared to accept a man inside of her. Once again she felt she was being ripped apart as this wretch of a man raped her.

The crowd roared its approval.

As she was degraded, Sarah's hatred grew stronger. Not at Ord, he was nothing but a tool, as the stable boy had been to her years before. Her hatred was for the Falcon! As she was again being raped, debased and humiliated before a raucous crowd... as she felt this scum of a man exploding in her, Sarah silently pledged to get her revenge.

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