The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sophia wondered about the incident with Jacqueline. She remained uncertain about the potential dangers of being in Serafold. The bondwomen she had come to know, Anya and Netali had seemed unthreatening, well to her, if not to the pirates. Sophia wondered how much that was because she was officially their charge and no bondwoman would do anything to break the contract or bring harm to the one they were supposed to protect. Would it be any different if she was not under their protection? The bondwomen were a military caste and she knew that within any group of soldiers there could be men who behaved like knights and others who were no better than brigands. Why should it be no different with a female military order?

Jacqueline clearly had been unlucky. Perhaps she was in the wrong area of the town which she could not know well. The mention of an alley suggested she was in a more shady district than it might be advisable to visit. It was not clear how this bondwoman had threatened her or whether Jacqueline had exaggerated what might have been something not that sinister. She did seem pretty worldly for a lady-in-waiting, and Sophia imagined that stemmed from traipsing after her lady to visit sights across the two continents that she could. Sophia had assumed that life in Jarator for her would be very much as it had been in Kerans. However, she now reflected that perhaps, being younger, the Marchioness would not be content with entertainments in her home and those of her friends, the way her mother was. Maybe she too would want to travel and to visit places like Terzia. Sophia hoped that the Marchioness would be happy remaining in Jarator as, after this trip, she had no desire to travel anywhere for the foreseeable future.

Sophia turned to her luggage. She was a little self-conscious that she now had enough for three women. She worried that it would seem pretentious. Then again, she could not be the first lady-in-waiting to have had to assume responsibility for the luggage of her fellows who had fallen ill or otherwise become lost along the way. Though bringing all these things would be a burden, she hoped her efforts to do so would impress the Matron of the Marchioness’s house.

There was the sound of a heavy bell from below and Sophia realised that it probably signalled meal time. She wondered who was paying for all of this or whether staying in these official quarters was free. For the moment she put those thoughts aside. She trusted that she would not be here more than a few days and she had funds enough for that.

Like the food on the ‘Lance’ the meal had been plain but filling and Sophia returned to her room feeling a little more settled. Many of those staying at the Guesthouse seemed to be young men, she presumed they were traders or sailors looking for a new post or stranded in Serafold by some mishap. They sat at a separate table to the women who were fewer in number. There had been a middle-aged merchantwoman who seemed to speak no language Sophia knew and two elderly ladies-in-waiting who seemed both deaf and engaged in their own conversation uttered almost directly into each other’s ear. There was a young woman with them, probably still a teenager and whilst she was polite she seemed embarrassed and ill-at-ease whenever Sophia tried to speak to her. Sophia had hoped for far better company and was keen that, at least, Amelia would return.

As she entered the room she saw Amelia sitting at the desk by the window apparently writing a journal.

“Hello, did Jacqueline manage to depart?”

Amelia turned at the sound of Sophia’s voice and gave a light smile.

“Yes, yes she did, thank you. It was close. The ship left barely five minutes after she boarded. I tried to find out where it was sailing, but by that stage everyone was so busy that I got no response. I just hope she is safe.”

“What frightened her so that she had to leave so hurriedly?”

Amelia flushed. “Erm, well, you know, these bondwomen, they have strange practices and this one, some officer in their ranks, well she, she, wanted Jacqueline.”

“Wanted to enslave her?”

“Yes, yes, that’s it. You know about these things?”

“We had two bondwomen onboard the ship; one had a slave. They brought me here after the pirates took the ship, the ‘Tanith’ which I was on. They told me a little about their ways. My friend, Constance, well, she seemed to know a bit too.”

“Is she in Serafold too?”

“No, the pirates took her.”

“Oh, I am sorry. I know one should not say it, but it seems these Matrons send ladies like us into such hazards with so little protection. The bondwomen are supposed to be our guardians but they seem as much pirates as any others we might meet.”

“I am sure they behave differently here, in their capital than they would elsewhere.” Sophia’s voice tailed off.

“What is it?”

“I realised that my observation was probably flawed. The bondwoman captain on board my ship enslaved a lady-in-waiting in Kerans.”

“Really. I had heard stories, but I did not believe it was true. Did not her lady do something?”

“I don’t know. She was there on board ship. Constance said she was originally from Tarvash, but she had met her at a ball in Kerans last summer. The slave herself said she had been a lady-in-waiting, but I guess she would have said whatever her mistress told her to say. Of course, she looked nothing like a lady-in-waiting. For all I know it is just a myth they put about. The bondwoman captain probably bought her in a slave market in the North.”

“Saying that, though, it was clear that this bondwoman that Jacqueline encountered believed she had the right to take her.” Amelia observed.

“Well, I imagine in any armed force there are always those who are only just the right side of the law and see such service as a way to get what they want. Perhaps here in Serafold she would have expected no-one to side with Jacqueline if she did ravish her.”

Amelia continued to seek some rational explanation. “Yes, maybe there was something in Jacqueline’s manner that she mistook. You know there are some ladies-in-waiting who take up a post because they enjoy being in all-female company. Many more have little initiative, they like the structure of being commanded by the Matrons and their lady. So, perhaps, there are some ladies-in-waiting who are not averse to being taken by a bondwoman.”

Sophia recognised that though those things were rarely voiced among the society in which she moved, you had to be very naïve not to know that some ladies-in-waiting felt that way, especially those who it was clear had little desire to marry a knight or petty nobleman. She thought of the two elderly spinsters in the dining room.

The conversation quickly moved on to less challenging topics and the two young women spent the rest of the afternoon and evening talking, especially about Jarator. Sophia was pleased to have someone who had many things in common and yet could tell her so much about the city that was to be her new home. She was particularly relived to have someone to chat with over dinner.

Sophia awoke to the sound of stamping feet. For an instant she wondered if it was a dream, but as she came fully awake she realised it was not. Amelia was already sat up in her bed on the other side of the room. Moments later the door flew open and three bondwomen stormed in. Amelia shrieked and Sophia snatched herself back, cringing against her headboard. Immediately she could see these women were different to the typical bondwomen. Their rubber was a dark green shade and they wore helmets which covered much of their heads and only a ‘T’ shaped slit exposed any of their faces. Rather than swords they carried staves about the length of their arms in their belts and one held a pair of shackles.

“Amelia de Jasdilam?” One of the women demanded.

Amelia cowered but nodded and then found her voice. “Yes, yes, that’s me.”

“Stand.”

Amelia seemed unable to do anything but comply and she slid from her bed letting her long nightdress fall to the floor.

“Amelia de Jasdilam.” The woman who had stood at the back, who Sophia took to be the leader of this group, spoke sombrely. “You are charged with stealing a slave. You are to be taken to The Brig. Your trial will be tomorrow. Shackle her.”

“What? No! No, you can’t do this, there must be some mistake.”

The women seemed oblivious to her pleas and in moments her hands were being shackled behind her back.

“At least let me put on some shoes, my clothes.”

“A wagon is waiting for you.” The bondwoman leader said.

“Amelia, I’ll find you, I’ll bring your clothes.” Sophia said desperately.

“And you.” The leader turned her attention on Sophia. “You know the prisoner?”

“Erm, we met yesterday.” Sophia said truthfully.

“When the crime was committed. You are a witness. You will attend The Court tomorrow, three hours before noon. Your name?”

The leader pulled out a small book that was fixed to her belt by a chain.

“Erm, erm, I’m Sophia de Herillosor.”

The woman noted her name. “You are forbidden to leave Serafold until the case is concluded. Failure to appear at The Court at the appointed time will lead to your arrest.”

The woman said no more but simply turned with her colleagues bringing the sobbing Amelia with them. In moments their heavy footsteps were fading and Sophia sat gazing into the corridor through the open door. She felt herself blighted. This voyage had resulted in one disaster after another, seemingly with any friend she had, taken from her by force. How could the authorities think Amelia had stolen a slave? It seemed impossible. Had Jacqueline done something, was that why she had had to take a ship so suddenly? Again, though, it seemed that she had had nothing more with her than what Amelia had packed for her into the bag.

Even if Jacqueline had wanted to smuggle a slave from the city, surely she could not do that on board a ship that Amelia had only been able to get a berth on at the last moment? Perhaps Amelia had neglected to say that there had been two berths and this slave was waiting at the dock. Could this slave be a man or even a woman that Jacqueline had fallen for while in Serafold and she had become determined to escape with him? Then, why had she made up that complex story about the bondwoman and why had she rushed off so quickly? Surely trying to escape with a slave would need at least a little more planning.

As she thought about it more Sophia remembered that the bondwoman had accused Amelia herself of stealing the slave, they had not said she was an accessory to the theft? However, Sophia accepted that she was not knowledgeable about legal matters and actually was looking forward to getting some clarification at The Court. She was apprehensive at going, but she guessed it was going to be straight forward. She had known Amelia for less than a day and had only met Jacqueline briefly. No court would expect her to be familiar with whatever they had been up to before then. Surely some record would show how recently she had arrived in the city and she would ask Anya and Netali to testify for her if there was none.

A little more settled, despite the sudden incident, Sophia rose and dressed. She decided to find out one of The Guesthouse’s workers to see what they could tell her about how The Court worked, and, even before that, how she could actually get to it.

Sophia walked apprehensively up the steps and into The Court. Marla, a nice middle-aged woman who had allocated Sophia her room, had been more than happy to tell Sophia what she needed to know. Her descriptions of Serafold had helped the day pass and distracted Sophia from the fears that might otherwise have grown. However, in line with the perception Sophia had gained already of the city, it was clear from Marla’s descriptions that it was quite a severe place. Working in The Guesthouse where the visitors who had nowhere else to stay ended up, Marla had seen a handful of occasions when one of the guests had been seized. She was reassuring and said that in most cases the worst penalty for outsiders was to be expelled from the city along with their possessions. In addition, like Sophia, Marla could not really believe that either Amelia or Jacqueline had been involved in stealing a slave and she was sure there had been some mistake that would soon be rectified. Marla reassured Sophia, that though The Court was deliberately intimidating, much of this was show, and in fact Serafold was far more just in its legal proceedings than many cities Sophia might visit.

Sophia was a little reassured as she entered the large entrance hall, but Marla had been correct, it was intimidating. She had never been to a court in Kerans, but she trusted it would not be as stark as this grand, though almost featureless building here in Serafold. Sophia gave her name to the bondwoman who stood behind a high stone counter in the lobby. As she was identified on a list, the woman’s attitude changed and she was immediately allocated two guards. These wore uniforms and helmets like the three she had seen before, but the colouring was slightly different with dark purple stripes between the green.

The guards did not jostle Sophia, but their body language made it clear where Sophia had to go. The room they took her to was focused on the horseshoe of seats at one end. Already there were a number of bondwomen there. Sophia imagined they were bondwomen though she could not make them out beneath the shiny black hoods, masks and capes that concealed them; Sophia guessed these were ceremonial robes for the court. A raised seat at the centre of the arc was empty and Sophia thought this must be where the judge would sit. The few sources of light in the room shone on the seats of the judge, those of the other court officials and the circle which the arc curved around, no doubt where the accused would stand. One of her guards gestured for Sophia to take a seat in less illuminated section, a row of chairs which were placed in front of the banked seating that held the audience.

The banked seating was in gloom and Sophia only had a vague idea of how high it stretched. From the movements she could make out as her eyes tried to adjust to the contrasting brightness and darker areas, she estimated that about half the places were filled. The audience, spectators, whatever you called the public who attended trials, were muttering among themselves. Sophia took her seat and a couple of men she did not recognise, but from their clothing looked like dock workers or maybe seamen, sat beside her; none of the three of them spoke. Sophia imagined that the court partly asserted its power by being frightening to both the accused and to witnesses.

“Rise!”

The call came from one of the green-purple clad guards standing closest to the judge’s chair.

“Hail the Magistra!”

“Hail.” The assembled people echoed with a variety of degrees of enthusiasm.

Sophia found no voice and simply mouthed the call. Then, from the opposite side of the room, a tall woman emerged. Her outfit was both regal and reminiscent of everyday bondwoman clothing. She wore the characteristic catsuit but her boots seemed heavier than the ones Sophia had seen on other bondwomen. She carried a dark rod about the length of her forearm which Sophia assumed was some symbol of office. As she stepped into the light Sophia could see her rubber was of a dark purple. Her face was concealed like those of the other officials or jurors or whoever they were, behind a mask provided only with eyeslits and a narrow slit for her mouth. The mask hung as a sheer sheet of rubber which curved over her cheeks but was not tight so that it gave no indication of the shape of the face below. Sophia imagined it was symbolic, representing that this woman was simply a tool of the law rather than making personal decision.

The Magistra’s mask however, was slightly different to those of the others and rather than hugging her skull like theirs, it rose up into a cylindrical headpiece. Sophia felt the magistra looked as if she had both been carved from wood and was somehow like molten rock too as the glistening rubber rippled around her body with every step. In moments she was in place in her chair and the people in the court sat as well.

“This court is now in session. The first case is of theft of a slave. Please bring the accused.”

The magistra’s voice sounded loudly in the room and beneath her regalia Sophia envisaged a robust woman in her early fifties. In moments Amelia was being brought into the room. A guard marched beside her, but Amelia was not struggling and seemed unrestrained. She turned to face the magistra and Sophia admired her courage to stand there without quivering. She was now dressed in a fine lilac dress but was hatless, presumably some part of the ritual of the court; making her seem vulnerable in front of the fully clad magistra.

“State your name.”

“I, I, er, I am Amelia Katharina de Jasdilam, latterly lady-in-waiting to the Countess of Jasdil.”

“How did you come to be here in Serafold?”

“My ladyship was travelling for the hunting in the wetlands of Terznia; we were to tranship here into smaller ships, boats, to cross the Terz Delta. There was some dispute about the hiring and my ladyship went on, leaving me and some of her other servants here in Serafold. I do not travel well on board ship.”

“Were you under the protection of bondwomen?”

“Erm, no, I do not think so. We were when coming to Serafold, but her ladyship employed Terznian scouts for the next stage.”

Sophia had to commend Amelia’s resilience in answering this string of questions so cogently. She was sure that it had all been the result of some mix-up and the case would be dismissed.

“What can you tell me of Jacqueline Roberta de Mesalmaran?”

“She, erm, well, she was another of her ladyship’s ladies-in-waiting. We lodged together in The Guesthouse while we awaited her ladyship’s return. Jacqueline was restless and could not settle in our room. I think she was distracted after having spent so long on board ship, whereas I had slept most of the journey away, keeping back the sea sickness, you know.”

“And two days ago? This woman came to your room and asked you to help her leave Serafold?”

“Yes, well, it was our room anyway, we were sharing: the room has six beds. She said that some bondwoman had come after her in, erm, I remember, Cross Street and had said she wanted to enslave her. I did not believe it at first, but Jacqueline seemed so worried. I think it was partly guilt that she had gone somewhere where she was not supposed to be. If she had stayed in our room or at least in The Guesthouse area, she would have avoided any trouble.”

“Did she give you the name of this woman?”

“It was Irina, Irina something like ‘lion’.”

“Irina Lyonne?”

“It could have been. The woman told Jacqueline her name, but I was not listening that carefully.”

“She was discussing a bondwoman?”

“I do not know, I never saw the woman, but that is what Jacqueline said. We are not familiar with different uniforms you have here; any woman dressed in black rubber, well, we think of her as a bondwoman.”

“You were correct. With a name like that, she was certainly a bondwoman. There can be no mistake.”

Amelia suddenly looked nervous that she had said something wrong.

“I may have made a mistake with her name, it was all very confusing. Jacqueline was babbling about what had happened. She was keen to get away but seemed not be thinking clearly. I knew she needed to have at least some of her clothes, some food, some money.”

“Did you help her?”

“Of course. I did not fully understand what had frightened her, but she kept on insisting she had to leave Serafold immediately, and I was not going to argue with her.”

“So you helped her to escape from Serafold.”

“Yes, ye-es.”

“Why?”

Amelia looked bemused at the question.

“Why did you help her escape from Serafold?”

“Erm, well, we have been ladies-in-waiting in the same household for over a year now. I would not say she was my friend, but I had no reason to dislike her and here, so far from Jarator, she was one of the only links back home.”

“What did you do to help her escape?”

“You make it sound like she was a prisoner. She was staying in The Guesthouse, she was a visitor; we are only meant to be here a couple of weeks.”

“I say escape, because she was no longer a visitor, she was already well on the way to becoming part of Serafold’s hierarchy.”

“What? I do not understand. She was going to stay here? She was going to become a bondwoman? I do not think you have that right, she was never a fighter; she could sew and dance passably well.”

“Yes, she was going to stay here, not as a bondwoman, but as the slave of a bondwoman: a slave of Irina Lyonne to be precise. Lyonne had already formally declared her intentions to this Jacqueline de Mesalmaran, or I should say, to Larissa, as that was the slave name she had been given.”

“Slave name? I do not understand.”

“Ignorance of the law is no defence. When the woman came to you, she was already Larissa, a designated slave of Irina Lyonne. The conversion was not complete when the lieutenant was disturbed by a fracas in the street, but it was far enough advanced that Larissa had no right to leave Serafold of her own volition. Some might say ‘of her own free will’, but by then she had no will that was ‘free’ as a bondwoman had already designated her a slave.” Having finished this explanation the magistra paused for a few moments as if collecting her thoughts. “What did you do with Jacqueline?”

Amelia hesitated. Sophia could see that like herself, she was trying to pick her way through the peculiar laws of Serafold and work out the implications of falling foul of them.

“Erm, well, as I have said, I told her if she was going to leave Serafold she needed to get a ship. We went down to the docks, but we could not find any ship with a space. The tide was right, however, and there were quite a few ships leaving or about to leave. Jacqueline went back to the room, she was tired and worried, but I kept on and as it turned out, it was only the third captain that I spoke to after that who said they would take her. Though, to get her passage, I had to pay a lot of the money I had.”

“So, you arranged the ship. What was the name of it?”

“Erm, I do not know. It was all in such a rush, Jacqueline was hurrying around in a panic and when the captain said he would take her I just went and fetched her quickly and then bundled her on board.”

“Can you describe the captain?”

“Well, he had a beard.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us to identify the ship and so allow you to retrieve the lieutenant’s property?”

“Property?”

“Yes, her slave, Larissa.” The magistra said as if explaining things to a child.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“So, you assisted this Larissa in boarding an unknown ship and leaving Serafold without the permission of her mistress?”

“Well, I just helped Jacqueline because she was so confused and charging around.”

“No, you removed the slave Larissa illegally from Serafold.”

“It was not like that.”

“By your own words you have said that it was. While you do not have the slave in your possession, you effectively stole her away; you have deprived the lieutenant of her property. There is no need for any further evidence, we shall move to sentencing.”

The magistra looked to the masked individuals around her and they simply nodded agreement. Sophia was bewildered by the pace of what was going on, but the case seemed to be coming to an end and without the magistra even calling on her to speak. Suddenly, though, her attention was snatched by what was happening to Amelia. Iron bars began rising from the floor in a ring around her, closing her in like a prisoner. In moments they were higher than her head so shutting her into a makeshift cage. Amelia seemed stunned and made no effort to move from where she was.

“The accuser will now reveal herself.” The magistra commanded.

Off to her left in the horseshoe of seats one of the women rose and took off her mask. A woman, probably just a few years older than Sophia’s own age, was revealed. Her hair was a white-blonde shade; her features were angular though her lips were full.

“Are you Lieutenant Irina Lyonne?”

“Magistra, yes, I am.”

“Good. Your accusation in this case has been proven and the accused has been found guilty by this court. It has been deemed not feasible to retrieve your property or for the thief even to indicate where it is. Given the nature of the accused herself, that means there are three remaining sentences I can pass down: a term of imprisonment; a fine to the value of the slave, the funds from which come to you, or, finally, the accused can replace your lost property in herself. In such cases of theft under Serafoldian law, it is up to you who has suffered the loss to indicate your preferred sentence.”

“Magistra, thank you for granting me that right. I choose the third option: that the accused replaces my stolen slave.”

“Excellent. Thank you lieutenant for your resolute response. Please proceed to the sentence chambers where your slave will be signed over to you.”

Irina bowed and stepped down from the seating. She followed one of the purple-green clad guards from the room. The magistra focused her attention back on Amelia. Sophia was still rather bewildered by what was going on, but it seemed like Amelia had got off lightly, she did not face time in prison or a fine, that, on a lady-in-waiting’s wages, she probably would have found difficult to pay. Instead there seemed to be some legal let-out and the court was going to give this Irina another slave to replace Jacqueline.

“The accused?”

Amelia said nothing, clearly uncertain about what happened now.

“The accused – that is you,” the magistra pointed her gloved hand at Amelia, “respond when I speak to you. The accused?”

“Erm, yes, yes, sorry.” Amelia stuttered.

“You have been found guilty of the theft of a slave before me and the officials of this court in free public view. The slave’s owner has selected that in compensation for the theft you will replace her stolen slave. From this moment on you are stripped of any citizenship and become the slave named Larissa, property of Lieutenant Irina Lyonne.”

Now Sophia suddenly realised what the sentence really meant and saw that it had dawned on Amelia too. The crowd seemed to be muttering their approval.

“What? That’s not possible, I am Amelia de Jasdilam; I am a citizen of Kerans.”

“Slave, silence, you are not a citizen, you are Larissa, the property of the lieutenant. This case is over. Take her down to receive her sentence. This court session is ended; there will be a recess of quarter of an hour before I hear the next case.”

Sophia watched, startled, as the floor beneath Amelia began to lower, in moments she was at waist height to Sophia’s feet. She looked around frantically for some escape.

“Stop, stop this, let me go!” She bellowed.

Her descent did not cease. Sophia made to stand, to rush over to rescue Amelia, but the guard close to her seemed to read her thoughts and moved towards her as if to dissuade her from any sudden actions. Then Amelia was gone. The circle of floor where she stood slid back into place and the iron bars sunk back into the floor. In less than a minute since the magistra had given her command Amelia had disappeared from sight. Seemingly satisfied, the magistra rose and all in the court matched her. She swept from the room with an imperious stride followed by the other officials. Some of the the audience seemed to leave. The guard came and stood over Sophia.

“You are dismissed.” The bondwoman said simply.

Sophia stood and then wandered in a daze, directed diffidently by the court guards who now seemed to have no interest in her. She found herself back on the street. She crossed the road to the nearest café and ordered a cool fruit drink.

In her mind, the enthusiastic, possibly naïve features of Amelia were juxtaposed with the sleek, servile body language of Sharee. Sophia found it impossible to believe that Amelia could be so transformed into this Larissa. She found her eyes watching every bondwoman emerging from the court. Only two had slaves with them, Sophia guessed it was not common to mix legal business and pleasure and these two owners were far older than Irina. There was no guarantee that Irina would come out this way. Maybe Amelia would successfully resist whatever was done to these women to turn them into slaves. Sophia could only guess at the process but she remembered what Captain Anya had said on the ‘Tanith’ about the owning bondwoman becoming like the sun in the eyes of the slave. Was that what Irina was becoming to Amelia now?

Then, with a blush, Sophia remembered the sensation of being dressed like a slave that Ensign Netali had put into her mind. If some kind of sensual illusion could feel like that, what must it be like to be being forced into such skin-tight rubber clothes for real? Such sensations, surely, would change one’s perspective. Was that sentence worse than imprisonment? Maybe it was because it would be Amelia’s mind that was imprisoned and the sentence would be until Irina decided to free her. Even then, with her views so altered, would Amelia ever want freedom again? Sophia guessed she had been right to liken the rubber catsuit and boots to a narcotic.

Then she saw them. She recognised Irina by her hair, distinct even on a reasonably busy street. For an instant Sophia thought she was just followed by another bondwoman but as this second, more golden blonde woman stepped from the court, Sophia noticed the differences: the heels of her boots, the long loose hair which hung down her back and then she saw the leash leading to her collar showing that Irina had finally got her slave. Sophia looked on incredulously that this woman clad from neck to toe in the tightest gleaming black rubber could ever have been Amelia; the colour of her hair, however, suggested that that was indeed the case.

Every contour of her body was shown in the skin-tight clothes; her breasts seemed fuller than Sophia could have imagined possible and she wondered if that was some part of the process of enslavement. Sophia felt embarrassed as the couple came closer and she could make out Amelia’s nipples erect in the rubber that held them. The way the slave walked, a little awkwardly in the unaccustomed boots, and, as yet, did not have that sway to her hips and bum so characteristic of such sex-slaves, even Sophia could tell she had only recently become one. She imagined, however, that there was time enough under her owner’s tutelage in the days ahead to master how to act as an intimate slave.

The pair passed in front of the café where Sophia sat. She had an urge to rush up and talk to Amelia; ask her about what had happened to her. However, if the court scene had taught her nothing else, she now knew for certain the risks involved in intervening in the laws of Serafold and the ways of the bondwomen. As Amelia glanced her way, Sophia noticed the unfamiliar make-up on her face that further distinguished the slaves from their bondwomen. However, above all it was the slight smile and the distant gaze that told Sophia she would get no cogent response from Amelia or the woman who once had been Amelia. What she was looking at, it was clear, was Larissa, a slave whose vision had been filled with the dazzle of Irina in her life and the clarity of what it was to be her living property; her sexual pet.

Once Amelia and her new owner were from sight, Sophia became certain that she had to leave this awful city as quickly as possible. Now she full understood what Jacqueline had felt and was imbued with that same urgency.