Farm

 Zoe and Penny trudged along the dirt road. 

Their feet were bare, as were the rest of their bodies. The hot sun beat down on them, making them sweat; in some ways it was good they were naked. Clothes would have made it hotter.

They still weren't used to being naked out in the open, even though they'd had nothing for six weeks now; being in the open air, in public, and especially around others that were wearing clothes made them feel even more naked and vulnerable.

The ones that wore clothes were not slaves. They were the slave handlers, the landowners, the skilled tradesmen, the shopkeepers. They were the slave owners.

Zoe looked behind her to see how many slaves were in their line. She couldn't count them but it had to be 50, at least. She wondered what kind of place would have that many slaves. What would they be needed for?

"Excuse me, sir?" Penny asked a slave handler that was standing by the side, watching the naked women pass. "Is there a way we can take a shit? Pee? We've been marching for two hours now."

"Hold it. There are pits at the farm," the slave handler said. 

They kept marching.

As the long line of women marched, they were passed by several carts. Wagons, moving faster than the line of new slaves.

These carts were always pulled by two, three or perhaps four female slaves. They ran, or in the case of heavier, larger carts, they were pulling, straining, walking as quickly as they could. The naked slaves were sweating, straining, sweating, their muscles clearly working and well defined. 

These were slaves that had been in the colony for a while, and they were stronger, tougher, than the new soft slaves that were walking in a line.

The carts and slaves pulling them were a hint as to what was in store for the new slaves, and they watched curiously, and in some cases in horror.

It was a three hour walk. They stopped once for a five minute break and were given water; all the slaves drank as much as they could, they were sweating most of the water out and needed the hydration. Their bodies were slick from sweat.

Finally, they arrived at their destination. A farm, a large one with rolling fields that stretched far out of sight. Slaves were all over the place, working at everything. Drawing carts, pulling equipment and raw materials, working in the fields digging and planting and harvesting.

At the entrance to the farm was a gibbet. 

Most of the slaves didn't know what this was; a few understood. It was a small cage, not allowing much movement for the occupant. The cage was lifted up and suspended above the ground. The occupant, in this case a slave, was simply held in the cage in plain view of passers-by.

As the new slaves marched past the gibbet and the caged naked female contained therein, they glanced at the poor soul who was swinging slightly in the breeze.

The emaciated prisoner reached out a hand at the passing slaves.

"Water." she asked in a husky, pleading voice. "Water. Please. Water."

Of course, none of the slaves had water, and would have been afraid to offer any if they had.

Ironically, there was a large jug of water set just below the cage, right where the poor slave could see it. Part of the torture, probably.

Such displays of discipline were enough to scare the entire herd of new slaves into obedience. Unquestioning obedience.

The slaves were led to a corral that clearly was used for horses and cattle most of the time, but the naked women were all herded into the enclosure and left there for a while. They took the time to look around as best the could.

What they saw was a farm, something that looked like it had come from the 19th century. There were a few horses, not many, and bales of hay and silos of what looked like grain. Naked slave women were working all around them at various jobs. 

Eventually a couple of farmers, landholders, came into the corral and began examining the women.

One of them came up to Penny.

"Ah. A lifer. Let's see how juicy you are, eh?" 

The old man stuck two fingers between Penny's legs and shoved them up her cunt. Deep inside her. She reacted, of course, jumping away.

"Ah, still sensitive, I see. We'll train that out of ya soon 'nough. Georgie, string this one up to the frame," the old farmer called out.

Penny was led away to the frame, whatever that was. 

Zoe, in the meantime, was having her teeth checked by a farmer. His grubby, dirty fingers poked into her mouth, pulling her lips away from her teeth and gums as he checked her out.

"Good enough" he said. "Healthy. Georgie, when you done with that one, put this one on the trap. Gotta go into town. Might as well break her in."

Zoe found herself pulled away to another part of the farm, away from the rest of the new slaves. It was time for her to begin to work. She had just finished a three hour walk in sweltering heat, had not had anything to eat, but was to begin her work as a slave immediately.

"Sir?" Zoe said as respectfully as possible. "May I have something to eat and drink before working?"

The farmer pulling her along stopped and faced her. "I say this only once. Slaves only talk when specifically asked to. Anything else is punished."

Zoe shut her mouth.

Several of the landowners continued to sort through the new slaves, poking and invading their bodies. One of the women bit the finger of a farmer when he stuck it into her mouth; he swore and called out to a farm hand.

"Fit this one with a brank. She's a biter."

The slave was taken off and fitted with a sort of metal frame over her face. It was tight and wouldn't come off. It had a large metal piece that was inserted into her mouth.

The brank kept the slave from biting; it also prevented her from talking and made it quite difficult to eat. The slave screamed a bit when it went on, struggling. Apparently it was quite tight and uncomfortable.

Eventually, her cries died down. She was seen later, the brank firmly affixed to her head and face, a metal piece inserted inside her mouth and over her tongue that also held her teeth open slightly. She was drooling, and constantly wiping her mouth with her hand, embarrassed she could not control her body fluids.

As Zoe was moved along to the barn, she passed Penny, who was being punished for jerking away from the farmer and not allowing him to examine her body.

Penny had her wrists tied to a wooden beam above, her body swinging gently as she made feeble attempts to struggle. Her ankles were also tied and a weight had been suspended from them, stretching her body out painfully. She was struggling to breathe, and every joint in her arms and legs were feeling the pain and stress from the weight stretching and dragging her body down. She was not making any noise, simply trying to cope with this punishment position.

Zoe looked at poor Penny as she passed with fear and sympathy, wondering how long she would be there.

Zoe was taken inside the barn (Penny was dangling just outside) and quickly hooked up with straps to a small cart with a seat. Zoe knew what this meant. She was going to be pulling the cart, and going into town with it. 

She'd just marched all the way from town, and she was going to be going back. Pulling this cart. With a man in it. She sank to her knees and cried, exhausted, wondering how she would do this.

Searing pain cut across her back as a whip lashed at her. "Up. Get going!"

The old farmer was in the cart, and he had a nasty whip. A second lash hit her, and she reacted, quickly standing and pulling the cart. It was very heavy (at least for her), and she struggled to get going. Once the cart started rolling, it took slightly less effort to keep it going.

Zoe pulled and pulled. Whenever the cart slowed, the whip hit her again, urging her on.

A couple of minutes later she was on the road, her bare feet trudging on the dirt, keeping the cart behind her rolling, not thinking about how far the village was, just trying to keep the cart rolling, rolling, rolling.