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were naked and barefoot, with nothing to cover
their bodies but collars, manacles and chains. Some of the cuffs
were finely decorated, but she couldn’t tell if that was a tribute
to the slave or the status of the owner.
    The club Lagi had sent them to occupied the
top floor of a very long building and encompassed many, many rooms.
All of which were painted in sophisticated ocher and umber with
thick drapes and plush carpets and heavy cushions. At least, that
was what the lit rooms looked like. Others were too dark to
tell.
    Such sumptuous tones were totally wrong for
the frighteningly sadistic-looking metal contraptions the rooms
housed. Those devices belonged in a medieval dungeon, complete with
burning torches and damp cellar stones. At least, that was her
opinion. But no one was asking her.
    In fact, none of the slaves would even make
eye contact with her. They couldn’t share so much as a smile. She
felt more isolated now than she had before she knew others from
Earth were on this benighted planet. These humans were docile and
broken and future echoes of what she was meant to become.
    Panic surged against her ribs. In that
maelstrom of negative emotion, she could identify not only her
despair in her future, but her fear of dying on this world, of
never seeing Earth again, and then the general icy terror of
death’s nothingness. She clutched onto the only remotely reassuring
thing in the room.
    Her master’s hand closed over her white
knuckles gripping his arm. His palm was warm and his touch gentle.
She glanced up into his eyes.
    “ Remember, you’re with
me,” he said quietly.
    She nodded, gulping deep breaths of air and
trying to get herself under control. He waited. Then his hand left
hers to reach out, cradle her neck, and draw her close. She pressed
her cheek against his chest.
    “ You are with me,” he
repeated, continuing to hold her by the back of the neck until she
felt calm enough to step away.
    “ Thanks. Sorry about that.
Master,” she quickly added.
    “ I take it this club is
not a replica of your Earth?”
    “ Is it supposed to be?
Huh. No. Let’s just say, it might be some people’s experience, but
it’s not my experience of Earth. I’m sorta vanilla,
Master.”
    He cocked his head to the side as he looked
at her and she fleetingly wondered how her collar had translated
her words. “No. No, I can see that now.”
    Before she could ask him what he saw, a
hostess approached and offered to conduct her master around the
premises. Though never acknowledged by the hostess, she stuck close
to her master’s side. Several other club members introduced
themselves to him as the tour progressed. These people were much
more relaxed around her master than people normally were. She
wondered if that was because he wasn’t wearing his ribbon-y
insignia thing.
    These same people were
pointedly unpleasant to her, though. Only after many glares did she
realize she probably should be following behind her master, not glued to his
side. But since he hadn’t said anything, she didn’t change her
position.
    One of the rooms they passed was doused in
darkness. From within she heard harsh breathing mixed with panted
exhortations and punctuated by the slap of flesh against flesh.
Pretty obvious what was happening in there.
    The last room the hostess ushered them into
she announced as their destination. While the hostess handed them
over to a sneering male with dusty brown hair and what looked like
a frilly-fronted brown tuxedo, she glanced at the décor. It
probably passed for Earth’s French Provincial on this planet. A
circle of twenty oversized white-upholstered chairs occupied the
center of the space.
    The man explained that this would be where
the new members and their slaves were introduced. He was called
Ballaj and she gathered he was the head of this club, or the master
of ceremonies or something. She just wanted to stay as far away as
possible from him and his hungry eyes.
    Her master settled into
one