Sam Chapter Four

Chapter Four

After what they had made me do, I thought I couldn’t feel anymore. I thought I was numb.
I was wrong.
When they took the glowing iron brand, white hot as they pulled it from the furnace and pressed it against the bottom of my foot, I screamed so loud I thought my lungs would come rushing out of my mouth. The sizzling, acrid scent of burning flesh filled the room.
Then they “prepped” me.
Black Rod likes his slaves well decorated apparently. A nasty looking dog with a horrifying burn on his face took a long needle from a box and jabbed it through each of my nipples. I cry out, but he ignore me as he threads a small copper ring through the hole. Another dog brings in a tray on which there’s an assortment of delicate chains, and the burned dog takes a silver one and hooks it to each loop so it dangles delicately across my flat chest. He nods in approval.
Another silver ring, this one wide with intricate designs etched along the surface is fitted at the base of my tail, resting snuggly against my ass, then clamped tightly until it almost hurts.
They don’t give me clothes. Probably figure I’m not worth it.
They make me walk, and my paw screams in protest with each step. It hurts so badly. I’ve never felt pain like this before. At least they put a bandage over it to keep it from getting infected.
At the front gate Bloodstripe is waiting. He grins toothily at me.
“Tell the other slaves what happens to those who try to steal from me.” He says with a growl. “You and your parents now know the price of a water condenser. Spread the word.”
Outside there’s a vehicle waiting. It’s hunched over, well armored, and unlike the quick strike fighters of the bandits, it has four wheels, and doesn’t hover. The cab in front has plush leather seats. The back is just a cage.
They pick me up and throw me in, then clasp a chain onto my ankle which connects to a ring on the floor. There are three other slaves inside, two old and mangy looking rabbits and a little bunny boy barely old enough to walk. He doesn’t look at me, he just stares at the wall. I wonder if he’s drugged.
Outside I can hear them discussing the trip. Apparently Black Rod is a bit of a journey from Red Bluff. They’re talking like it will take us weeks to get there. I look around but don’t see any food. Then my heart sinks.
What use would any of these monsters have for weak, old slaves too worn out to work or fuck?
Give them credit where it’s due. It’s efficient, and the food won’t go bad along the way.
The engine roars and the guards slam the door shut, plunging us into darkness. Around the outside of the vehicle I can hear other engines starting up, coming closer. We’re going to have an escort. A big one.
The vehicle lurches into motion and the chains swing and rattle.
Just like that, I’m a slave.