Buying Trouble, PT 1: A Stolen Slave Is Spanked

“I don’t need an examination, I’m not sick! OW!” Eris grasped her hot, stinging backside and scowled at the man who had dealt her the slap. He was a big, burly bearded creature who stank of beer and she hated him more than she hated anything in the world. He was everything she was not. He was tall and she was short, he was fat and she was slim. He was old and ugly, and she was young and cute – a twenty year old snub-nosed blonde with a big mouth and a bigger attitude.

“Silence, girl,” the trader growled. Three days earlier he’d snatched her from the fields where she was scavenging crops to feed herself. He’d been so pleased with himself in the beginning, figuring he could take her to the trade city of Solaris and sell her at one of the alien markets. He wasn’t pleased now.

“I’m healthy,” she insisted. “Look at me. I don’t have any pock marks. There’s no rot on me, and I have all my hair.” She plucked at the strands of her blonde locks just in case he’d missed them.

“The doctor’s not checking your hair, girl,” he guffawed, as if he’d made a joke. If he had, Eris didn’t get it.

She looked down at herself, wondering what the doctor was going to check. Almost anyone could have checked any part of her given the fact that she was barely clothed. There was a strap of silver fabric around her breasts, and a thong skirt thing which left little to the imagination. She was dressed like a slut, and as a result she was drawing the eyes of every man they passed in the marketplace. Her captor didn’t provide much in the way of wardrobe to say the least. She planned to escape him, of course, but she couldn’t as long as the shackle on her wrist was still linked by heavy chain to the one on his wrist.

“Your mouth is going to knock your price down,” the trader said. “At this rate, I’ll sell you to the first man who makes an offer.”

Eris smirked at him. “That would be stupid,” she said. “My father was a Varii noble. I bear his mark. I’m worth a lot of money.”

“Your mother was common blood, and you’re obviously a bastard. The mark means nothing.”

“You’re a bastard,” Eris snapped back. “And you mean nothing.”

There was a loud CLAP which turned to a squeal as Eris grabbed her butt where the handler’s paddle had landed. It was a horrible thing, made of some material which could bend but not break and imparted the very devil’s sting. He kept it on his belt, along with his money pouch and he kept using it on her, even though it didn’t change her behavior one bit.

“I hate you!”

“Hate me all you like, just shut up,” the trader snarled back at her.

“I’m never going to shut up,” Eris promised. “Never. Ever. Ever. I’m going to talk and talk and OWWWWWW! Curse you! I hope the gods take your balls!”

The trader had whacked the paddle against her butt three more times, making her dance in place and rub her butt with the one hand she had free.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you are,” he growled.

“Then let me go, stupid man!”

“Not until I get the coin for my trouble,” he said, a dark leer passing over his gross, greedy features. “Men will pay for virgins, even mouthy ones.”