Female Prey & the Elusive Prey (23 page)

“This is not at all like a singles bar…” Barbara muttered out of the side of her mouth. Kimberley fought back an urge to laugh. “You’re right…” she whispered back... “No music!”

“Hey! You guys!” Cat came trotting back to them. “C’mon…we gotta see this!”

“See what?” Barbara asked, looking around.

“Just around the corner here…” Cat slid between them and took each by an arm. “This way.”

It had only looked like a gap between the buildings on the left side of the street, but as Cat towed them along, Kimberley got a better look and realized it was actually a side street. Only about a third as wide as the main street, it looked as if it could still handle two-way car traffic. They rounded the corner together, and Cat stopped, letting go of their arms to point. “There!” she said excitedly. “There! See?”

“There” was what looked like an oversized barn. The sides were weathered, unpainted planks, the roof shingled in dark red. The side street ran straight up to it and seemed to crawl between the big opened doors at the near end. A sign hung over the entrance: “Slave Market”. It looked dark inside.

“What d’ya think?” Cat turned to grin at them. “Let’s go have a look, hey?”

“Ah…” Kimberley gulped. She’d been getting used to the Wild West Town motif, but this was something she’d never seen in any Western. It looked badly out of place at first, but after Cat’s suggestion that they go have a closer look at it, it suddenly looked menacing as well. “I don’t know…” she began to protest. “Maybe it isn’t allowed…”

“Maybe and maybe not. Let’s go find out.” Cat grabbed their arms again and began pulling them towards it.

It was a bit further away than it had looked, which meant it was also bigger than Kimberley had first thought. The closer they got to those opened barn doors, the less Kimberley wanted to go through them. She shot a pleading glance at Barbara, who only grinned crookedly in response. Kimberley sighed, shrugged and resigned herself.

“Afternoon, ladies.” The old man emerged from what looked like a one-room shack tacked onto the back of one of the buildings that fronted the main street. He was lean, wrinkled and smiling, dressed in faded jeans, a work shirt and an old dark brown cowboy hat. “Can I help you?”

“Hey, yeah, maybe!” Cat let go of their arms again and turned to face him. “We were kinda wondering if we could have a look inside?” A jerk of her head indicated the slave market.

“Well, I don’t know…” He doffed his hat to scratch absently at his short, grey hair. “You ladies aren’t just vacationers, are you?”

“Oh, hell, no!” Cat laughed. “We’re all three of us hard-core! My friends are here for the hunting, and I’m putting myself on the block right here tomorrow morning!”

“All registered at the hotel and everything?” he asked, eying their backpacks.

“Ah, well, no, not yet,” Cat admitted. “We were on our way there just now…”

“Gotta be registered first, Miss.”

“But we’ve been walking all day so far…please, isn’t there something you could do?” Cat’s smile was flirtatious and pleading at the same time.

“Well…” he looked at the three of them. “You do all look a bit worn at that. Tell you what, come on back to my office for a minute and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you!” Cat almost squealed. “Mr…?”

“Mr. Brown will do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Brown!”

The tacked-on shack was the office. Inside he had a desk, several chairs and a computer. “Have a seat,” He offered as he sat down himself behind his desk. He tapped at the keyboard. “Now…what are your names?”

The computer was a little too much for Kimberley. Okay, it might be a very useful tool here, but it certainly didn’t belong in the Wild West…even a Wild West with a slave market. She wondered what other anachronistic surprises this place might have. She shed her backpack as had Barbara and Cat and settled wearily onto an old chair.

“Miss? Ma’am? I need your registration name please.”

“Oh! Sorry!” Kimberley realized she had been wondering instead of listening. “I should be listed as ‘Elf-Girl’.”

Mr. Brown’s shaggy left eyebrow rose a fraction at her reply, but he typed it in. A few keystrokes later, he was done with whatever he was doing.

“All right, ladies…” he smiled as he logged back out. “You’re cleared for a short tour here. I’ll have to accompany you, though, and there are a few rules.”

“What are they?” Cat asked immediately.

“Well, basically you can look, but no touching or trying to talk to any of the slaves. If you have any questions, you can ask me. You can leave your backpacks here, if you like.”

Even Cat seemed subdued as they followed Mr. Brown into the huge barn-like building. It was indeed very dimly lit inside, and the sunlight coming in through the opened doors didn’t seem to penetrate very far in. They stood for a moment, blinking, letting their eyes adjust. It seemed very much like a barn indeed. The floor was packed earth, thickly strewn with straw and sawdust, and the place had the same sweet smell Kimberley had encountered in other barns. Massive wooden posts rose from the floor at regular intervals, supporting the beams and timbers of a second floor overhead. Except for those posts, the whole ground floor seemed to be one vast room…and there were cages…rows of cages…

Most of the cages seemed to be of the same size, about six feet by eight and six feet high, built out of steel pipe and chain-link fence. At the far end of the building, there were two much larger cages, built of the same materials, flanking some sort of raised stage. If this was a slave market, that was probably where they were sold, Kimberley thought. Cat and Barbara were looking around as silently and thoughtfully as she was.

“Ladies?” Mr. Brown broke into the silence. “This way, please.” He led them over towards the nearest row of cages. “Remember the rules.”

The first two cages were empty, but there was a woman asleep in the third, lying on her side atop a thick blanket, facing towards them. She was naked. Long pale-blonde hair spilled over her face, hiding it from them. Kimberley had to stare. Whoever she was, she looked young and very fit. Put her in a bikini and it was easy to picture her playing a strenuous game of volleyball with her friends at the beach. Yet, she was here, a captive, waiting…for what?

“Ah…” Kimberley had to clear her throat before she could speak. “You…uh…hold auctions here?”

“Yes, ma’am, every evening at sundown.” Mr. Brown smiled. It was a kindly smile. “ You ladies are all welcome to come see the one tonight, if you like. The hotel will provide escorts for you.”

The woman in the cage stirred and murmured something in her sleep.

“Escorts?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s another rule. No unaccompanied women are allowed in here. Ever.”

“Why not?” Cat wanted to know.

Mr. Brown smiled warmly down at her. “Little lady,” he chuckled, “it helps to keep the bidders focused on the auction. And I do believe any one of you would be a powerful distraction to them. Also, this whole town only works because we have some rules that have to be followed, if anybody wants to stay here. And those rules have to be followed because there are so many rules that apply on the outside that we just don’t follow at all here.”

“Oh.” Cat nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense...I guess…”

The woman in the cage stirred again. She sat up, glanced at the four of them, and then stood and stretched, yawning. She made no effort to cover herself, and Kimberley couldn’t help staring. She was a tall woman, long-legged, full-breasted, pink-nippled and blonde all over. The trim, bikini-waxed silky thatch at the join of her thighs was exactly the same shade as her hair. Her eyebrows were just a shade or two darker. And she wasn’t completely naked; there was a thin cord around her slender neck. A tag hung from the cord, a simple ring of metal with a piece of paper or cardboard inserted into it. The number “8” had been written on it. Kimberley stared at the tag until she realized that Eight was staring back at her. Eight had cool blue eyes above high cheekbones. She did not seem at all embarrassed about the situation…or at all amused, either. Kimberley had to break the gaze first.

“This way, ladies,” Mr. Brown chuckled.

Kimberley counted twelve of the smaller cages in all, six on each side of the building. Besides the one holding Eight, only three of them were occupied. One held an older woman, in her mid-thirties, Kimberley guessed, who remained huddled on the blanket in her cage, looking up only once as they passed by. In another was a tiny Oriental girl, smaller even than Cat, with waist-length hair as black as a crow’s wing. She stood with her hands gripping one of the metal posts of her cage, watching them intently but saying nothing. When she happened to catch Kimberley’s eye, she smiled faintly. It was a peculiar smile, as if she and Kimberley shared some secret between them. Finally there was another beach blonde, not as tall as Eight, and more slimly built. She was asleep, lying on her back with an arm across her eyes. Like Eight, all of them were naked except for the little tags around their necks.

“These…ah…women are going to be sold at the auction tonight?” Kimberley asked Mr. Brown, waving her arm to take in the twelve cages.

“No.” Mr. Brown shook his head. “Not at all, Miss. These are holding cages only. The big cages over there are for the slaves who are to be sold.”

“Holding cages?” This had to be the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had, Kimberley thought. Here we are talking calmly about cages and auctions, and the women in the cages can hear us. They also have to know how likely it is we’ll end up naked and caged just like them in a day or two…or three, if we’re lucky. She shivered at the thought, realizing that it actually sounded exciting to her! She could picture herself, naked and tagged, in one of those cages as some other group of women came through on another tour and paused to look at her and wonder.

“Yes. The smaller cages are used to hold women who already belong to someone. We board them here until their owner sends for them. Some times, their owners also request we train them. We do that also, for an additional fee.”

“Train them?” Cat sounded very interested. “Where do you do that?”

“Upstairs.” Mr. Brown pointed up at the plank flooring overhead.

“Can we see?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss. Not right now, anyway.” Mr. Brown chuckled, but there was a hard glint in his eye as he looked at Cat, as if sizing her up.

Kimberley wondered just what “training” might entail, and decided not to ask. She was having enough trouble adjusting to this very peculiar town already.

“Here are the holding pens for tonight’s auction.” Mr. Brown went on as they approached one of the two large cages. “There aren’t many slaves in here right now because we have four of them being…ah…prepared upstairs.”

Cat hurried forward. Kimberley and Barbara approached the cage more slowly. As with the smaller cages, the floor of this one was thickly strewn with fresh straw, but there were no blankets. Three young women were huddled together in the middle, all naked. Each wore a wide leather collar, each had her wrists handcuffed behind her. Short lengths of chain ran from their handcuffs up to O-rings set in the collars. Unlike the women in the holding cages, they looked tired and uncared for. Bits of straw were tangled in their uncombed hair, and their feet looked dirty. The women also looked a little scared, Kimberley thought. She shivered again. All of this was arousing her. She could feel her nipples starting to poke against the fabric of her sports bra.

“These were all brought in this morning,” Mr. Brown continued. “Before the auction, we’ll clean them up a bit, of course.”

Kimberley focused on one of the captives, a slim redhead with pale, creamy skin. There was a red welt across her rump, and another, smaller, fainter welt on one round thigh. The chain attached to her handcuffs kept her hands well up and away from that rump. It looked uncomfortable and judging from the little contortions all three of the women were constantly making with their arms and shoulders, it felt uncomfortable as well. The collars must be thick enough and stiff enough to keep them from choking themselves. If they had been brought in this morning, when had they been captured? Last night? Yesterday? Days ago? How had they been captured, by some kind of woman-trap or by ambush as she had been last year? How had their captors used and abused them before bringing them in? She thought back to her own first night, the tight ropes and tent stakes holding her down, spread-eagled, helpless and shivered again. She noticed Barbara, next to her, also staring. What was she thinking?

“Over here…” Mr. Brown gestured. He began walking over to the other large cage. “I think you ladies might be interested in this.”

Even Cat seemed thoughtfully silent as they followed him. Kimberley gave the redhead a last look. None of the women in the cage looked happy about their circumstances…but she could not work up much sympathy for them. They had signed up for this. If it was more intense than they had expected, well, so what? She had gone through it all herself last year and now here she was, back for another round.

“These two will be the main feature of the auction tonight. We’re expecting some lively bidding.” Mr. Brown rapped lightly against the chain link cage with one hand. “Stand up!” he ordered.

Kimberley had to remember to breathe. There were two very young women in the cage. She guessed that they were nineteen or twenty years old. They were collared as the others were, but not handcuffed. They were average height, with full, round, ripe breasts, dark nipples, smoothly flaring hips and long, shapely legs. Both had shoulder-length brown hair, one a bit darker than the other, and wide, high-cheeked Slavic faces. Unlike the women in the other cage, they looked clean, freshly-scrubbed…and shaved too, she noted. They stood side by side, the darker-haired one putting an arm around the other’s waist. They looked so much alike, or Kimberley guessed that they were related…cousins, maybe…or sisters? She shivered again. She had a girl cousin a year younger than she was, and she just couldn’t imagine sharing something like this with Sammy. It was different with Barbara.

The women in the cage looked back at them impassively, and yet something in their eyes, something in their stances, suggested a smoldering sexuality to Kimberley. Yes, no doubt there would be lively bidding for this pair.