Slave tracker (Foxy Lady and Lowblow Emma)

[Foxy Lady]

The slave trader was checking his books when the slave burst into his office.

‘Marcel’s run,’ he gasped. ‘Mistress wants Hunter, right away.’

***

The owner stood waiting at the top of the steps to her mansion. She watched Hunter approaching up the drive, admiring his broad shoulders, deep chest, slim hips and muscular thighs.

‘You took your time, Hunter. What kept you?’

‘I came as fast as I could,’ he replied, effecting a slight breathlessness that he knew she’d like.

She noticed and she did like, although she knew it was false.

He mounted the steps and stood towering over her.

‘Tell me,’ he said softly.

‘The usual story,’ she sighed. ‘He was working in the fields and slipped behind a hedge, saying he wanted to relieve himself. The slaves were spread out and, by the time the supervisor had noticed, he was long gone.’

‘The supervisor?’ Hunter queried, knowing what the reply would be.

‘He’s taken over Marcel’s duties until you recover him.’

‘Anyone special?’

‘He had an understanding with Martha. She’s in the yard waiting, but you’ll get nothing out of her. She’s a snooty piece. Use your discretion.’

Hunter knew what that meant and turned towards the yard. The mistress called him back.

‘No messing with my upstairs slaves, please.’

Hunter knew what that meant too.

***

She had been right about Martha. She was waiting for him with her shoulders drawn back and her arms folded.

‘You’ll get nothing out of me,’ she spat at him as he approached.

‘Then you’ll be sold. No one will trust you. You’ll work as a chained slave from now on.’

As he waved to the overseer to take her away, she spun on her heels and started towards her quarters.

‘Fine, I’ll just get my things,’ she shouted over her shoulder.

Within two strides, Hunter had reached her and grabbed her by her hair.

‘You have no things,’ he told her as he dragged her to the overseer’s cart. ‘Your mistress owns everything. She has graciously allowed you to keep your clothes until you get to the market. Then they’ll be brought back to their rightful owner.’

From the kitchen window a young kitchen slave watched quietly, as Martha was dragged to the cart.

 

[lowblow emma]

No one ever noticed Alice. She did as her mother had done, as her mother had trained her to do. She kept quiet, did what she was told as best she could, never looked her owners in the eye, never answered back, never quarrelled with anyone.

And because she was quiet no one noticed her. But she noticed them, heard them too, learnt all their secrets. She knew about the cook’s liaison with the overseer, who was the real father of Janet’s baby, that the mistress had secret meetings with her neighbour, and that her master was bedding the parlour maid. She had seen Martha slip away to meet Marcel, she had watched their frantic lovemaking, snatched from the spare seconds that they could find together during the day. And one evening, when things were quiet and she was resting in the barn, she had heard them discussing their plans.

Now she watched Hunter, keeping out of his way but keeping as close as she could, catching some of his short sharp questions, admiring his lithe movements as he strode around talking to this slave and that, seemingly at random. But she felt sure he was not working at random. There was a purpose in everything he did and that purpose was focussed on the kitchen and the adjacent yard. It was as if he was trying to pick up a scent.

But Alice was loyal to her fellow slaves. They had never done her any harm and she would do none to them. Whatever she knew was hers to keep and she would never divulge it. Not even to this man who was filling her thoughts. Not even if he threatened to have her sold.

 

[Foxy Lady]

But Hunter had noticed Alice. He had seen the flash of her eyes at the kitchen window and the sudden movement as she had pulled back when he looked up. He was aware of her presence wherever he went.

This would take time, time that he didn’t have. Every additional second put more distance between him and his prey. But he would have to be patient. There was no use trying to hurry things faster than they would go.

It was not until mid-afternoon, when everyone including the slaves were allowed a siesta, that he caught her in her favourite spot in the corner of the cellar where she had made a cosy bed on some discarded blankets. She was dozing and jumped when his hand touched her lightly on the shoulder. When she opened her eyes, he was squatting before her. He moved her legs to make room beside her and the cool of his touch soothed her.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Alice,’ she replied. ‘And you’re Hunter. I’ve heard the slaves talk about you.’

‘What did they say about me?’

But Alice was reluctant to answer.

‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured her, ‘I can guess. Nothing pleasant, I expect.’

She nodded.

‘They’re all afraid of you.’

‘Are you afraid of me,’ he asked.

She shook her head.

‘Why not?’ he pressed her.

‘I don’t know. I just feel safe with you. That’s all.’

‘Do you have a brand?’

She nodded.

‘Show me,’ he commanded.

Alice rose to her knees, turned her back on him and drew up her dress. The scar of the brand disfigured her soft round buttock. Hunter bent and kissed it gently. Alice sighed and turned to face him.

‘I used to be a slave too,’ he told her.

‘Do you have a brand?’

He pulled off his shirt and turned so she could see the brand on his shoulder. She followed the outline with her fingers.

‘And what’s this?’

She lifted the small sack that hung round his neck.

‘That’s my freedom. To show I’m no longer a slave.’

Alice cradled the document in her hand, as if it were the object of religious devotion.

‘One day,’ she whispered, ‘I’d like one of those.’

Was it a hint? Hunter did not know, but he knew better than to make promises he could not keep. He kept silent, but began to drop soft kisses on her neck and throat. She pushed the precious paper back into the holder and let her hands glide over his chest. They drifted urgently, showing her desire, but aimlessly, showing her inexperience.

Hunter’s fingers worked patiently up Alice’s legs, over her hips and tweaked her nipples, while his lips moved to her mouth. Soon Alice’s hands were pulling at his trousers, as he eased her dress over her head and climbed between her thighs. His passage into her wet cunt was hampered by a tight ring that he broke through with one fierce thrust. Alice’s cry of pain was soon replaced by moans as Hunter broke into his stride.

 

[lowblow emma]

‘Argh’

Alice has not expected the sudden sharp pain as he broke her hymen. But it was soon replaced by warm waves that washed through her belly and soothed and calmed her. Suddenly, Hunter’s body arched and he groaned as his series of ejaculations shook them both. She clung to him and kept a tight grip until his cock finally slid out of her, leaving a trail of sperm and blood in its wake.

She wanted to give him something, something in exchange for what he had just given her, but she was hesitant. Would it be disloyal to her fellow slaves? Did he really want anything from her? He was smoothing her hair as if all he wanted was to lie in his arms. But Alice was not that naïve. Finally, she began tentatively.

‘I heard them.’

‘Really,’ he said, as if he was too distracted by her to care.

‘Planning.’

‘Really?’ It was a question now. She felt herself being gently moved along.

‘He was going to hide and come back for her when everything had settled down.’

‘Did he say where?’

She hesitated long before disclosing the information that he wanted, wanting to keep her hold over him as long as possible. He began kissing her again, his fingers working up her thighs and over her lips. It was only when he was lying between her thighs and easing his way inside her, more gently this time, that she relented.

‘In the mountains, there are caves. Runaways often go there. He said he’d be safe there.’

Hunter continued as if he hadn’t heard her.

When siesta time was over, he helped her into her dress and watched her walk proudly back to the kitchen. The mistress wouldn’t mind if she were pregnant. As slave’s child was a good investment, especially a child of a young mother and a strong man like Hunter.

As he hurried down the drive, her eyes watched him around the corner of the mansion. He did not look back.

 

[Foxy Lady]

Hunter’s success was also a handicap. All the slaves had heard of him and many knew him by sight. If he moved in daylight, he would be seen and the news would travel through the slave grapevine like a wild fire. Marcel would hear and be long gone before he arrived. So he went home and rested, letting his mind work out his plan.

By nightfall, he felt refreshed and a plan was forming in his mind. He set out along the back ways towards the mountains, taking the quickest route. Marcel would have had to keep to the back roads, probably sleeping up before making a final push for the safety of the caves. With luck, Hunter would get their ahead of him or at least be able to pick up his trail.

As he neared the area where the caves were located, Hunter slackened his pace, keeping his eyes peeled in the moonlight for any sign of footsteps, but the rocky surface gave nothing away. Everything was still, all was silent, there was no sign of life. He eased cautiously forward around the edge of a large boulder that had fallen across the trail. Seeing no sign of anyone, he stepped clear.

Which was when the net fell on him from above. Within seconds, he was entangled. The more he struggled, the more entangled he became.

 

[lowblow emma]

Alice awoke, struggling for breath, to find a sea of faces staring down at her and a hand across her mouth and nose. Hands grabbed her legs and arms, and she was dragged from her bed, across the moonlit yard and dumped on a pile of straw in the barn.

‘What did you tell him?’

That was the cook, the one who was having a liaison with the overseer.

‘Let’s sweat the bitch.’

That was the ostler.

A rough hand forced its way between Alice’s thighs and groped her crotch.

‘She’s got the hots for him. All he had to do was wave that cock of his at her and little Miss Perfect here told him everything he wanted to know.’

That was the supervisor who had failed to notice Marcel’s escape. The cook spoke again.

‘You think you’re so clever, always sneaking around and spying on people. Did you never think that we’d be watching you?’

‘Enough of this talk,’ the ostler’s voice was commanding now. ‘It don’t matter what she says, we know she’s told him. He’ll be on Marcel’s trail by now. Let’s just get on with what we have to do and then we can all get back to sleep.’

The blows rained in, a fist in her belly, a smack across her face, strong hands pulling her hair, rough hands mauling her tits. She was rolled over and thrashed soundly across her back, buttock and thighs. Then back on her face again to see the men gathered around with their trousers open.

‘No,’ she screamed, ‘no, please, not that.’

But they took no notice, as her legs were forced wide and each man in turn entered her fiercely, with no concern but for his own satisfaction. Some of the female slaves turned away, but none intervened to protect her. They knew the punishment that awaited any slave who betrayed her fellows, particularly to a slave tracker, especially to Hunter.

In the end, they left her, a mangled heap of flesh and clothes, her eyes swollen, her face and body bruised, her raw cunt and her womb awash with sperm.

 

[Foxy Lady]

In the cave, Hunter had no illusion about what lay in store for him. The faces that looked down on him were not those of pampered slaves who’d taken a dash for freedom and now regretted it or thieves who were afraid of being caught. These were hard men, afraid of no one, used to getting what they wanted.

‘Looking for Marcel, are ya?’

The leader’s voice was harsh and guttural.

‘Well, he ain’t here.’

He knew what to expect as three of the men pulled the net off him, rolling him across the floor. Instinctively, he rolled into a ball to protect himself, his arms over his head. The first blow to land was a kick in his kidneys, followed by another and a third, heavy boots bruising and cutting his flesh. Hands grabbed his arms and pulled him out of his protective pose, opening his stomach for more kicks and punches. Then they set about his head and face, punches breaking his skin and closing one eye. The pain didn’t bother him; he’d suffered worse. He let his mind detach itself from his body to assess what was happening. This was a planned, coordinated, systematic beating. Not the sort of free for all that roughnecks deliver just for the fun. And that gave him hope. If they’d been paid to kill him, he’d be dead by now and his body dumped in a ravine where it would be eaten by animals and never found. The only question was how much further were they going to go. He didn’t have to wait long to find out.

‘Get ‘is legs, boys.’

Hands grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs apart. He tried to twist and turn to deflect the kicks that were aimed at his groin, taking blows on his inner thighs, but some got through. Enough got through to make him scream in pain and to leave him writhing in agony when they stopped. Then the leader spoke again.

‘Get ‘is trousers orf.’

Too weak to resist, Hunter was thrown over a boulder at the side of the cave and his trousers pulled down around his ankles. He glanced over his shoulder as the leader approach, his cock waving before him. He pegged Hunter’s ass with one thrust and hammered him until he came with a loud cry of triumph.

Hunter slid to the floor and rolled onto his back, to find the leader standing over him, his cock still dripping with cum.

‘You’re mine now. Just like that girl ya took this afternoon. I can take ya whenever I want ya. How’d it feel to be my girl, eh, Hunter?’

His laugh was still echoing around the cave when Hunter realised he was now alone.

He lay trying to recover and to get clear in his mind what had happened. He had been led into a trap and Alice had led him there. But had Alice acted wittingly? He couldn’t believe that she had tricked him. She was so transparently innocent. She must have been set up too. In which case, this was all an elaborate plot. But what was its purpose? Was it just to catch Hunter off guard? That couldn’t be it. Those thugs could have taken him any time. No, there was something else. Was it to let Marcel get away, to provide a diversion? That was possible. No, it couldn’t be that, well not just that anyway. Why the attack on him? That felt like revenge, far more than was necessary to let Marcel escape in the other direction.

And what about Martha? She had to be in on it, surely, because Alice had heard them planning. Was Marcel prepared to leave her to her fate? No; if she was part of it, whatever it was, Marcel would want to rescue her. And that told Hunter where to find him. All he had to do was get back to the trader’s lockup, if Marcel hadn’t taken Martha already.

 

[lowblow emma]

Hunter stumbled as fast as he could down to the road below the caves. The first light of dawn lit his path, but he still fell several times, tearing his clothes and cutting himself. In the distance, coming towards him, was a pony and cart. The driver wouldn’t approach someone who looked like a runaway slave, so Hunter concealed himself in the hedgerow and jumped out just as the cart approached, grabbing the horse’s bridle.

‘I’ve got to get to the slave trader’s.’

With no time to argue, Hunter climbed aboard. The elderly man on the cart looked terrified at the sight of a large, battered black man taking control of his cart.

‘There’s going to be an attack on the lockup. Pray we’re not too late.’

The thought of the possible release of slaves calmed the old man. At least he knew this man who was taking him back the way he had come was not one of them.

The sight that greeted Hunter at the slaver’s premises was worse than he feared. Marcel had not just rescued Martha, he had released other slaves. The doors stood open, with some guards unconscious and others trussed up. The only slaves who hadn’t fled were the timid and the old. Hunter had misjudged what was happening. It had taken more than Marcel to overpower so many guards. Even the thugs who had attacked Hunter would have struggled to achieve this. This wasn’t just an attack to release Marcel’s woman. It had to be more than that. There was so much planning, so many people involved. A runaway wanted secrecy; the fewer people involved the better the chance of escape. With so many people in the know, this had to be something more serious. He had to get back to the mansion and find out what was happening there.

The cart rocked along the rough road as Hunter whipped the pony to its maximum effort. Lights were blazing as he hurtled up the drive. The mistress was coming out of the door as he pulled up. She stared in dismay at his condition.

‘Hunter, what on earth has happened to you? You need a doctor.’

Hunter nodded.

‘I probably do, but there’s no time right now. There’s been a mass breakout from the slave trader’s. His sheds were full yesterday for the auction. It’s beginning to look like this may be the start of a rebellion.’

The owner blanched.

‘You’d better she what’s been happening here,’ she told him, turning on her heels towards the yard behind the house.

 

[Foxy Lady]

The owner led him around the house, across the yard and into the barn. Alice was huddled as far as she could squeeze into a corner, her legs pulled up to her chin, sobbing and shaking.

‘My personal maid found her like this,’ the owner explained. ‘Or so she says, anyway. No one admits to knowing what happened to her. But she’s obviously been beaten and possibly worse. Is this anything to do with Marcel?’

Hunter nodded.

‘Maybe,’ he conceded.

‘Did you take her?’

‘It was the only way to get the information I needed,’ Hunter conceded, ‘but it was false. I was led into a trap.’

‘Was she part of it?’

The owner didn’t sound convinced. Neither was Hunter.

‘I doubt it. If she was, why do this to her?’

They both stood and looked down at the pathetic bundle on the floor.

‘Which slaves can you trust?’ Hunter asked.

‘Yesterday, I thought I knew. Right now, I don’t know if I trust any of them anymore.’

‘Lock up any that you aren’t completely sure of,’ Hunter advised.

A short man in a crumpled suit carrying a black bag brushed past them and knelt beside Alice.

‘Let’s leave her with the doctor,’ the mistress decided. ‘I’ll make sure he sees you before he leaves. In the meantime, come and tell me what happened to you.’

The doctor soon appeared, shaking his head.

‘She’s badly injured, she’s almost certainly been raped, multiple times, and psychologically shattered. She can’t stay here, that’s for sure,’ he reported.

‘See to Hunter here, then we’ll discuss what can be arranged for her,’ the mistress replied.

When she returned, the doctor had dressed Hunter’s cuts and was bandaging what he thought might be a cracked rib. The mistress stood admiring his muscles and his stoical indifference to the pain.

‘Will you take Alice?’ she asked. ‘Just until this is over. Then I’ll have to sell her on, not that I’ll get much for her.’

Hunter nodded his agreement and half an hour later the old man was driving Hunter and Alice as gently as he could along the rutted tracks to Hunter’s house. Alice lay on the floor of the cart, nestled into a pile of blankets but still moaning at every bump. Hunter ignored her; his mind was on his next move. His personal revenge for the attack on him would have to wait. The time would come when he would extract a terrible revenge on the leader, but that time was not yet. There was a rebellion being planned. That was certain. The thugs had released slaves to take part, but they’d have been paid somehow. They were not the sort to throw in their lot with a doomed rebellion. And doomed it was. The militia would put it down; they were already mustering as the cart wound its way through the streets towards Hunter’s lodging. And then there was Marcel. He was Hunter’s priority; he was being paid to capture him. But how would he pick up his trail?

 

[lowblow emma]

As the door of the shack flew open, Martha cringed into the furthest corner. Marcel swiftly shut the door behind him and rushed over to reassure his partner.

‘Don’t worry, love, it’s only me. You’re safe.’

Martha body was still shaking despite the strength of his embrace.

‘It’s Hunter that’s got me into this state, threatening that I’d be a chained slave for the rest of my life. You won’t let them do that to me will you, Marcel?’

She looked pleadingly into his eyes. Marcel promised, but Martha was still not calm.

‘Tell me what they did to that bastard,’ she insisted.

Marcel did. Martha purred at the details.

‘They should have castrated the bastard,’ she spat ‘That’s what I’d have done if I’d been there.’

Marcel just held her tight, feeling her confidence return. She looked up at him.

‘What’s happening out there?’

‘It’s going pretty much as we expected. Some of the slaves wouldn’t leave the lockup, others sneaked back as soon as they could. A few have made a run for it, but the strongest and best are waiting in the forest.’

‘You said “pretty much as we expected.” What’s gone wrong? Tell me.’

Her voice was insistent.

‘It’s Alice,’ Marcel explained. ‘The ostler discovered that she snitched on us. She must have overheard us making plans and told Hunter.’

Martha was puzzled.

‘But that’s good. We know how to mislead Hunter now. He’ll believe anything she says. We just need to make sure she only overhears the right things, that’s all.’

Marcel shook his head.

‘No good, I’m afraid, love. The stupid ostler beat her up … and stuff.’ He didn’t want to be too specific. ‘Hunter’s taken her with him. She’ll be holed up with him in his place by now.’

‘Shit.’ Martha was furious. ‘Whatever possessed him to do that?’

‘It wasn’t just him. It was the others too. The overseer. Even the cook.’

Martha’s brain was working furiously, trying to figure out a way to turn this to their advantage.

‘We need to mislead Hunter again, but how can we do that? He’ll be on his guard now.’

‘Don’t worry, Martha. I’ve got a plan. It’s already in motion. All we need to do is wait and you may get that chance to take your revenge on Hunter.’

Martha’s face lit up as she grabbed Marcel and pushed him down onto the pile of blankets that served as their bed.

 

[Foxy Lady]

With Alice apparently sleeping peacefully, Hunter slipped quietly out of his lodging. News of the breakout had spread and everyone had been quick to understand the risks. The militia were already mustering in the square, locksmiths were busy with customers wanting to change the locks that secured their slaves and citizens were trying to hire bodyguards. In the distance, Hunter spotted the ostler sneaking down an alley. He hurried after him and reached the corner just in time to see him entering the low doorway of an inn. Hunter followed him cautiously, checking in case he was being observed. He passed the inn in the midst of a crowd of people and worked his way round via narrow passages until he was at the back of the inn. He was able to force a window and climb into a store room from which he was gained access to the corridor that led from the bar to the kitchens. At that time of day, no one was cooking so he was able to listen undisturbed.

The ostler must have made a run for freedom before his mistress could enforce a lock down of her slaves. He was obviously addressing a meeting of slaves who were going to join the rebellion as soon as it began. Much of what he said was too faint for Hunter to hear, but he heard enough to learn that the leaders were holding a meeting in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the town. He caught a reference to Marcel, who must still be somewhere close and ready to come out of hiding to lead his fellow slaves in an attack on the town.

As he returned as quickly as he could to his lodgings, the only thought in Hunter’s mind was how he could get to the warehouse unseen and capture Marcel. With the leader in custody, the rebellion would be sure to collapse. But he needed to find a ruse that would allow him to get close without being noticed.

It was Alice who came up with the answer.

‘You’ll have to go in disguise,’ she said, ‘and I know just the thing. Go dressed as a woman.’

After his experience with the thugs, this was the last thing Hunter wanted and he had the perfect way to avoid it.

‘I couldn’t take your clothes; they’re all you’ve got. And I wouldn’t fit into them anyway; they’d be far too smile.

‘Not my clothes,’ Alice laughed. ‘You’d look silly. But your landlady is much larger than me. She’s bound to have something that would fit.’

And she did. Alice enjoyed watching as the landlady brought a selection of times and both woman leered openly at his body as he undressed. The sight of so masculine a man struggling into a tight dress made her want to smile, but she was still a slave and knew her place. It would not be right to laugh at a freeman, let alone someone like Hunter.

Although he found a suitable dress, his feet were far too large for any woman’s shoes. So he set off barefoot. After a couple of calls, that raised a few eyebrows and caused some whistles of appreciation – not all of them mocking – he made his way through the back streets, carrying a basket containing his clothes and getting used to the unaccustomed feel of a skirt around his thighs and across his ass. There was no way he could pass as a woman close up, but from a distance he looked like any other woman of the town, out to get some provisions while it was still safe.

Behind him, Alice struggled to keep close enough not to lose sight of him. She was not familiar with the layout of the town and dared not risk getting lost. Hunter’s attempts to walk like a woman took her mind off her own aches and pains. If Hunter was going to the warehouse and the ostler was going to be there, she didn’t want to miss the chance to settle a score with him.

 

[lowblow emma]

The leaders of the rebel slaves were already in conclave, as they called it, as Hunter approached.

‘Where’s Marcel?’ grumbled the supervisor. He was already being punished for having failed to notice Marcel’s escape and did not want his absence to be noticed. ‘’We need to decide when the rising begins and get back before we are missed.’

‘Marcel isn’t coming,’ the ostler told the assembled slaves.

This provoked a chorus of protests, complaints and questions. He eventually managed to silence them and explained.

‘It’s too dangerous. We can’t risk him being spotted and captured. We don’t need him here right now. He will lead us when the time comes.’

‘And when will that be?’ demanded a voice from the back.

‘As soon as the weapons have been delivered,’ the ostler replied.

‘And when will that be?’ the same voice demanded.

‘As soon as-‘ the ostler began, but he got no further, for at that moment a side door of the barn was thrown open and two rough slaves pushed Hunter inside.

‘Look who we found lurking outside,’ the taller slave gloated.

As each slave realised that the captive was Hunter dressed as a woman, their faces changed and they began to call out suggestive remarks. A hand stroked his ass. He noted their boldness and confidence; normally a slave would not dare to touch him.

Again the ostler had to fight to be heard.

‘So, Hunter,’ he stood menacingly in front of him, ‘I’d heard you were Manuel’s woman now, but I didn’t know you were dressing like one. He’ll be pleased when he hears about it.’

Hunter did not react, but noted the name of the leader of the thugs who had waylaid him.

‘Show us what you’ve got,’ the supervisor demanded, pulling at the dress, but Hunter shrugged him off.

The ostler ignored the altercation.

‘It’s good of you to drop by,’ he told Hunter. ‘Marcel is looking forward to seeing you again..’

‘And so is Martha,’ added the supervisor in an attempt to restore his dignity.

Again the ostler ignored him. He turned to the slaves.

‘We’re done here,’ he announced. ‘Return to your farms and wait for the signal. It won’t be long now.’ As the slaves each hurried away, he turned to the guards who had captured Hunter. ‘We’ll take him to Marcel,’ he ordered and led them out of the side door.

 

[Foxy Lady]

Alice had watched Hunter drop his bag and rush across the open space around the barn where he had crept along one wall towards the corner, but she did not see the two rough slaves until they grabbed him as he eased round the corner looking for a way in. Hampered by his dress, he was easily subdued and dragged away. All Alice dared do was to remain under cover, wondering what was happening inside. After what seemed an hour, but must only have been a matter of minutes, a stream of slaves left the barn and melted away. She heard a door slam and rushed round in time to see Hunter being led away. She worked her way round to follow them as closely as she could.

The ostler was in the lead with the two slaves each holding tightly to Hunter’s arms. He made no attempt to escape, seeming content to accompany them to meet Marcel and Martha. Taking what she hoped would be a shortcut, Alice found herself ahead of them and decided to take her chance.

As the ostler passed, she launched herself at him; screaming loudly, she leapt on his back and dug her fingers deep into his eyes. The ostler howled and tried to throw her off. Taken by surprise, one of the slaves slackened his grip, allowing Hunter to break his grip on his arm, spin round to face the other slave and head butt him in the face. His nose broke with a loud crack and blood spurted over him and Hunter, who swung round and landed a punch on the other slave’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.

The ostler was still struggling to dislodge Alice, shaking desperately from side to side and trying to pull her fingers away from his face. Hunter buried his fist deep in the man’s stomach, causing him to drop to the floor, landing on top of Alice, who released her grip. Finally free of her, the ostler reached up under Hunter’s skirt. His hands had barely grasped his balls, when Hunter’s backhand knocked him cold. Alice struggled from beneath him, expecting to be greeted as Hunter’s saviour, but she was mistaken.

‘You foolish girl,’ Hunter snapped at her. ‘They were taking me to Marcel. How will I find out where he’s hiding now?’

Alice could not believe what he was saying. She had tried to save him and he was blaming her, telling her that he had wanted to be captured. She wanted to remonstrate, to tell Hunter how unfair he was being, how she had only done what she thought was best for him, how she didn’t want him to come to any more harm. But Hunter was not in the mood.

‘If you’ve been following me,’ he told her curtly, ‘you saw where I left the bag with my clothes. Fetch it and meet me at the lockup. I’m taking this guy there. The others,’ he looked contemptuously at the two slaves who were still dazed by his sudden attack on them, ‘don’t matter.’

Alice scurried away with tears in her eyes, as Hunter threw the ostler over his shoulder and strode towards the slave trader’s lockup.

 

[lowblow emma]

Martha was purring as Marcel nibbled at her neck. He stopped and placed a finger to her lips when he heard footsteps approaching. The first knock came, two sharp raps. Then the handle was rattled twice, followed the sound of a palm slapping the door. Marcel moved to one side of the door and nodded to Martha, who carefully opened it just wide enough for a slave to slip in. He was alone.

‘What went wrong?’

He spun round at the sound of Marcel’s voice behind him.

‘No good,’ he shrugged, ‘she’d gone.’

‘Gone?’ Marcel demanded, ‘Gone where?’

‘We’re not sure. We sent to her lodgings, straight away, just like you told us, but neither of them was there. The landlady told us he’d gone off and she’d followed him. We scouted around, but couldn’t pick up her trail. She was seen around some back alleys, but no one saw where she was heading.’

‘What’s this about?’ Martha was curious to know what Marcel had planned.

‘I wanted to use her to lead Hunter here,’ Marcel explained. ‘I never expected her to be wandering around town when she’s been beaten up.’

‘Do you want us to wait for her to come back?’ the slave asked.

‘No.’ Marcel’s mind was on an alternative plan. ‘Not know the landlady knows someone was looking for them. They’ll be on their guard now.’

The slave had barely gone before the couple heard more footsteps. They stopped at the door and the same signal was given. This time Marcel opened the door to find another slave glancing over his shoulder. He reached out and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him.

‘Tell me,’ Marcel ordered sharply.

‘They’ve got the ostler,’ was the equally short reply.

‘How?’

‘He was holding a meeting at the old warehouse. They caught Hunter prying. He was dressed as a woman.’ The slave’s laugh was wiped off his face by Marcel’s scowl. ‘Anyway, they caught him and were bringing him here, but he got away.’

‘He got away? How many were there with him?’

‘Three, but that girl helped him.’

‘You mean Alice?’ Martha interrupted.

Marcel could not believe what he was hearing.

‘Are you seriously telling me that Hunter got away from three guards with the aid of a slip of a girl?’

The slave nodded.

‘And what happened to the ostler?’

‘Hunter knocked him out and has carted him to the lockout.’

Marcel dismissed the slave and stomped around the room, cursing and kicking at the few bits of furniture.

‘That little bitch is a menace,’ Martha growled. ‘I’ll cut her fucking tits off when I get my hands on her.’

 

[Foxy Lady]

With the ostler securely chained and locked in a cage, Hunter set a fast pace back to his lodgings with Alice struggling to keep up.

‘What will happen to me?’ she asked breathlessly.

Hunter did not bother to turn towards her.

‘Don’t worry, you won’t be punished for interfering. You meant well.’

‘I don’t mean about that, I mean afterwards, when you’ve put down the rebellion. What will happen to me then?’ she persisted.

Hunter laughed and stopped.

‘It’s not my job to put down the rebellion. In any case, I couldn’t do it on my own. My job is to capture Marcel and return him to his owner. That’s all I’m being paid for.’

He began to walk away, but Alice grabbed his arm.

‘So what will happen to me when you’ve captured Marcel?’

Hunter shrugged.

‘Who knows? That’s a matter for your owner, but you can’t stay with her, that’s for sure, you’d never be safe there again.’

‘So I’ll be sold.’ Alice was thoughtful.

Hunter nodded.

‘Would you buy me?’ she asked quietly.

Hunter shook his head.

‘What use have I for a slave? Besides, slaves are expensive and I couldn’t afford to keep you.’

For a while Alice followed him in silence. Then she began to question him again.

‘What are we going to do next?’

‘I’m going back to the mansion to question the supervisor. I’ve sent a messenger ahead to have him held. You can come if you want, but don’t get in the way. And,’ he added, ‘stay close to me so that you keep safe. Now keep quiet; I need to think.’

An hour later they were back at the mansion. Private guards were stationed at the gates and by every door. They recognised Hunter and allowed him to pass to the yard, where he found the overseer standing beside the supervisor who was tied by the wrists and ankles between two posts. At his feet lay a whip, a reminder if he needed one of the punishment that could be inflicted on him.

As soon as she saw him, Alice rushed past Hunter and spat in the supervisor’s face. Taking a step back, she let her small foot fly at his balls, catching him dead centre. As she screamed in pain, she grabbed the whip and lashed him across his chest, the thin leather cutting into his flesh.

Hunter stepped forward and picked her up by the waist.

‘Put me down,’ she screamed. ‘Let me get at the bastard.’

Hunter twisted the whip from her hand and tossed her effortlessly in the direction of the overseer who held her by her arms.

‘Tell me what you know,’ he told the supervisor quietly, ‘or I’ll let her loose.’

 

[lowblow emma]

As he hung from the ropes that bound his wrist with his balls aching and his chest stinging from the cut of the whip, the supervisor cursed himself for getting into this position. He had held a position of relative privilege among his fellow slaves, until he had allowed himself to be talked in helping that trouble maker, Marcel, to escape. As a result he had been set to manual work replacing Marcel until such time as he was captured. Then he had got carried away punishing that bitch, Alice, but she was now back and helping that bastard Hunter, who was threatening to let her loose on him. He didn’t know what to do. If he told Hunter what he wanted, he’d be dead within the day at the hands of his fellow slaves. If he didn’t, Alice would cut him to pieces.

The slaves standing around fell silent as they waited for his answer, each one understanding the internal argument that was taking place in his head. Eventually, he looked pleadingly at Hunter and shook his head. He would take his chances with Alice rather than lose his life.

Hunter shrugged and stepped back. Alice came slowly forward until she was inches away. Standing on her toes to bring her head height to the supervisor, she spat in his face, her spittle landing like a tear drop on his cheek before sliding through his stubble towards his chin. Then she launched herself in a flurry of fists and feet, knees and nails, teeth and claws. Scratching, biting, hitting, kicking, pounding his head, his chest, his back, his feet and legs but always staying clear of his groin. Some slaves slipped away, not wanting to witness the humiliation he was enduring with only an occasional cry. Others drew closer, fascinated by the spectacle of a supervisor being punished. The cook grew flushed and excited at the pain being inflicted.

Eventually Alice withdrew, her chest heaving as she fought for breath, her eyes blazing with the excitement of the revenge she was extracting. She backed away, always keeping her eyes fixed on the body that now hung limp. Hunter stepped forward and lifted the supervisor’s chin. He was barely conscious, but aware of what was happening and aware of Alice who was now standing several yards away. Hunter raised an eyebrow, but the supervisor shook his head. Hunter stepped away and Alice advanced, steadily gathering speed, her eyes fixed on his groin.

 

[Foxy Lady]

‘Stop her.’

Everyone froze and turned to the cook, except for Alice and Hunter. She did not break her stride, but Hunter intercepted her in a few quick steps and lifted her off her feet, sustaining an elbow in his eye and a kick to his shins. He tossed her aside and the overseer sat on her.

‘Tell me,’ Hunter told the cook.

She glared round at the fellow slaves and pointed at the broken and sagging body of the supervisor that hung from his restraints.

‘He’s a bastard,’ she told them, ‘but he’s one of us and he doesn’t deserve to be destroyed.’

No one contradicted her. They knew she was right and that the supervisor had taken more punishment than any of them could have endured. She turned her attention to the overseer.

‘Cut him down and I’ll tend to him.’

He released Alice and summoned some farm hands to help release the supervisor and carry him away, while the cook told Hunter where he could find Marcel. Immediately he set off at top speed towards the town with Alice scurrying after him.

An hour later, the militia burst into the hut and found Marcel and Martha asleep. Marcel was resigned to his capture and fate, but Martha had plenty to say as she was dragged away.

She spat towards Alice who was hovering in the background, but spared her venom for Hunter.

‘Not man enough to take him on your own, are you, Hunter? No wonder you’ve been seen running around the back streets in a dress. Look at Marcel, that’s what a real man looks like. You’re pathetic. Why don’t you run off and let Manuel fuck you again. He said you had a nice tight ass, just the way he likes them.’

Hunter ignored her, just watching the militia as they escorted their prisoners to the lockup.

‘What will happen to them?’ Alice asked when they were alone.

‘They’ll be sold,’ he told her, ‘separately and a long way from here. No owner will trust them. They’ll be bought for rough work and kept chained. They won’t survive long.’

‘And the rebellion, what about that?’ Alice persisted.

‘With the leaders captured, that will fizzle out.’

‘And what will you do now?’

‘I’m going to collect my fee from your mistress and find out what she plans to do with you.’

Alice followed Hunter back to the mansion, keeping a respectful step or two behind him as befitted a slave.

‘She was wrong,’ she called to Hunter as they entered the drive.

‘Really?’ he asked.

‘You are a real man, man enough for me.’

Hunter ignored her and entered the mansion. Alice, reluctant to use the front door, sat on the step and waited for him to emerge. When he finally appeared, he beckoned to her to follow him. She trotted faithfully behind him for a while before asking the inevitable question.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Home,’ Hunter told her over his shoulder.

Hunter stopped and turned to her.

‘It’s your my home too now’ he told her. ‘Your mistress, your former mistress, says you’re worthless now. She’s given you to me as part of my fee.’

Alice smiled and followed in silence for a while.

‘And what will you do with me?’ she finally asked.

‘I don’t know yet. I’ve a personal score to settle first, with Manuel, then I’ll decide whether to keep you or sell you off.’

 

[lowblow emma]

Alice’s former mistress slipped down the side street and into the small Inn, where she made straight for the room that was always kept for her personal use. Ten minutes later, she was purring as Manuel kissed her neck while his hands fumbled up her skirts and over her ass.

‘Tell me that you did to Hunter,’ she whispered.

‘I’ll do betta than that,’ Manuel growled and pushed her face down onto the bed. She screamed as his cock pegged her ass.

Half an hour later, he lay on his back with his chest heaving as he recovered from his exertions. His lover ran her fingers round his nipples and nibbled at his ear.

‘Did he scream like I did, did he cry out when you fucked his ass with your huge cock?’

‘Sure,’ Manuel lied, ‘he cried like a virgin on her weddin’ night.’

‘I wish I could have seen it,’ she replied as she ducked her head to suck her lover hard again.

Half an hour later, with his cum running down her chin, she spoke again.

‘You know he’s coming after you. Now he’s tracked down Marcel, he’s got nothing else to do. He knows he’ll always be a laughing stock until he taken you.’

Manuel grabbed her hair and pulled her face to his.

‘What ya mean, until he’s taken me. He didn’t have a chance last time and he won’t next time either.’

His lover struggled free, losing a chunk of hair in the process.

‘Like it rough, don’t ya’ he grinned.

She smiled as he pinned her on her back and climbed between her thighs.