A blushing, slim, pretty brunette named Emma had just taken a tray of drinks to Table 17 at the Maidens of Nenuphar. The ten o'clock bell had just been rung, and Emma had been obliged to remove her top. Roxana caught her eye. "Take your skirt off too," said the deputy manageress. "Then go and dance."

"Yes, miss," said Emma. She was dismayed by the command, but she curtsied and obeyed without hesitation.

 

***

Emma Bayley had been born free on the planet of Brizeaux, sixty-five light-years from Akkadis. She could hardly remember her home world now; her parents had decided to emigrate to Akkadis when Emma and her sister Jacalyn and their brother Matthew were small children.

The Bayleys had never qualified for citizenship of Akkadis, but they were not especially concerned. Geoffrey Bayley felt that he was at last tasting success in his chosen career.

Until, that is, he became ill. It was a form of cancer, the doctors said, but a very rare form. Treatments were available, but prohibitively expensive.

Geoffrey and Anna Bayley were surprised by how quickly the disease advanced and how soon their savings were exhausted. They borrowed money, secured against the business. When Geoffrey had to stop working, they borrowed more money.

By now Emma had met Lance. She loved him dearly. He was an accountancy student at the University of Akkad. Though Emma was still young, she knew that she loved Lance with a love that would last forever. They became engaged.

But Geoffrey's condition was becoming worse. The family fell further into debt, but ultimately all the medical treatments failed. Geoffrey died. Anna found that she could not afford to hire a specialist with the skill necessary to manage the business. The creditors were becoming more insistent. Anna sold the business for the best price she could get, which was not much at all. She removed the children from their expensive school and sold their house, renting a small flat instead. It did not help. She tried to borrow more money, enough for tickets back to Brizeaux, but was refused.

Unable to pay their rent, they left the flat, owing money, and rented a single room in a dilapidated building in a shabby part of town where the landlord did not ask too many questions as long as they paid the rent on time.

Six months later Anna learned that their creditors had taken legal action against them. The District Court had awarded a writ of personal sequestration against the family. Anna read the article, read it again, and read it a third time. There was no mistake. She slumped to the floor, weeping.

If they were found, they could be sold into servitude. That was what 'personal sequestration' meant. They evaded the law for a while. They felt hunted. Once, when Matthew saw a man in a suit standing in the street nearby, they fled again and found new lodgings in another part of Akkad. They took turns to look out for strangers in the neighbourhood, anyone who might be looking for them.

Eventually they began to hope that they would not be caught. Surely, eventually the finance company would give up looking for them. They did menial jobs, for employers willing to pay cash with no questions asked.

Emma contacted Lance. He still loved her, he said. But his parents did not want him to marry her. They would have to wait until he was qualified. He could not disobey his parents while he was still at university. When he got a job, he would be independent. Then they could get married.

But the bailiffs arrived first. A debt collection company had bought the claim. They had offered a reward for information about the Bayleys. A local petty criminal had been suspicious of them, guessed who they were, and claimed the reward. Anna, Jacalyn, Matthew and Emma were taken straight to the Rose Garden.

 

***

 

Emma never learned what happened to her brother. There were not many male slaves on Akkadis, and Matthew was immediately taken to a different part of the building.

Anna, Jacalyn and Emma were ordered to strip naked. When Anna objected, an aggressive, ill-mannered woman called Manuela, herself a slave, had prodded her with an electronic slave goad. Anna screamed and screamed and continued shaking and whimpering for several minutes afterwards. After that the three women decided to cooperate. They were made to bath in a tank of disinfectant like animals.

Then they were branded. Neither Anna, Jacalyn nor Emma had ever seen a brand before. Slavery was forbidden on Brizeaux. They had seen slaves on Akkadis, but neither they nor any of their friends had owned one.

Later, the owner, Mr Runcik, came and examined them. He prodded and squeezed them, and examined them intimately. He immediately realised that Emma was not a virgin.

Of the three Bayley women, Jacalyn was probably the most fortunate. She was a virgin, very pretty, a nineteen year old brunette. She was sold in a private sale to a man who wanted a concubine. Emma never knew the name of the man who bought her.

Emma and Anna were both sold by public auction. It was a terrifying experience for mother and daughter alike. Anna was sold for two thousand solidi to a brothel called 'Yummy Mummies,' which specialised in women over thirty.

Then it was Emma's turn to step on to the terrifying stage. She had hoped and prayed that Lance would find the money to save her. His parents were quite well off. Perhaps somehow he could obtain the money to buy her and rescue her from her terrible predicament.

He did not. Instead, she too was sold to Akkadis Leisure as a pleasure slave. Now, two years later, she was still at the Maidens, trained to serve and please any man who wanted her.

 

***

 

A young man walked into the reception of the Maidens and paused to look at the dozen or so pretty girls sitting behind the low partition. They were smiling and waving, hoping to be chosen. They all had earnings targets to meet, and none wanted to be chosen to perform in the next Wednesday Night Entertainment.

Without exception, the girls were attractive and well presented. They were dressed in the short skirts and skimpy tops which displayed their figures so well, and they wore their hair in kittentails.

The young man looked carefully at each of them in turn. He would not make a hasty decision. He was not a wealthy man. He was a student in his final year of study at the University of Akkad, and a visit to the Maidens was, for him, a costly treat to be savoured to the full.

Each girl wore a badge displaying her name and number. Carys looked pretty, he thought. So too did Clara: very pretty. Then he saw two brunettes sitting together, so similar in appearance that he guessed they must be sisters. Their names were Abi and Trixi. He looked carefully at them. They both smiled and waved at him. He especially liked the way Trixi smiled sweetly and pressed her palms together, begging to be chosen.

The young man made up his mind. He turned to Bowser, who was acting as concierge that night. "Twenty-four, please. The one called Trixi," the young man said.

Trixi squeaked delightedly and ran grinning to the gap in the low partition and thanked the young man for choosing her; neither shyness nor self-respect are qualities which a pleasure slave can retain for long. Together, they entered the lounge and sat at one of the small tables facing the stage.

Emma was still dancing on the little stage. She still daydreamed, sometimes, that Lance would come and rescue her. Realistically she knew that he would not want to marry her now, not after she had danced naked for every man who had paid the price of a drink at the Maidens, and been used by every man in Akkad who wanted her and had fifteen solidi to spare.

Most of the time, Emma tried not to hope. Hope only made her feel worse, because in her heart she knew it was a false hope. She did not think of the future, because she had no future. She would remain at the Maidens, or some other pleasure house, until she was too worn out to be of further use. By her late twenties the gentlemen would begin to tire of her. It would be harder to meet her earnings targets each week, and she would begin to be chosen more often to perform in the Wednesday Night Entertainments. That would get her a few extra customers, for a while at least. She might be sold to another pleasure house, one that specialised in women over thirty. Some of them were flogging houses. There was a very nasty one called Whiplash, she knew. The girls did not live long in places like that. Or she might be sent for breeding. If no one wanted her, she might end up in the Arena. The pleasure house that held the licence to put on the games at the Arena had an endless demand for cheap pleasure slaves in their late thirties.

But just occasionally Emma could not stop herself from daydreaming. Suppose Lance was looking for her. He might still be searching every pleasure house in Akkad until he found her. Surely he would understand that it was not her fault that she had become what she was. She would never, never have chosen to be unfaithful to him. Never. She was not that sort of girl. She had given herself to him willingly and joyfully because she loved him and they were going to get married. She would never have chosen to sleep with any other man.

It would not even matter if he did not want to marry her. She would willingly be his slave. She would be his maid, his housekeeper, his childminder, his concubine or anything he chose. Sometimes she daydreamed about being owned by Lance.

Emma was dancing naked to a lively Atkoi tune, thrusting and gyrating to the powerful rhythmic beat, repeating the steps she had been taught. As always when she danced, she tried not to meet the eyes of the men watching. It was too humiliating. That was why she had been dancing for a minute or so before she saw the young man sitting at a table with Trixi, halfway across the room.

The man was staring at Emma, transfixed. Emma did not know how long he had been watching her.

The man was Lance.

 

***

 

Emma squawked and faltered in her dance steps, and for the briefest instant covered her breasts and pudenda, ashamed to be seen by Lance like this, dancing naked in a brothel in front of a hundred men or more. Then she remembered her training. She continued dancing as if nothing had happened. Anxiously she looked around for Roxana, hoping that her mistake had not been noticed. Girls at the Maidens of Nenuphar had been put on the flogging stool or the whipping post for less. It was mortifying, but she must dance as normal. When Lance realised it really was her, he would send for her and put an end to this humiliation.

Emma carried on dancing, sinuously twisting and gyrating to the powerful beat. She continued for two more songs. Lance was still looking at her. Emma saw him speak to Trixi, then look at the stage again. The song ended, and Emma stood still and curtsied. The audience applauded. Lance watched her as she curtsied, naked, to a room full of strange men. The pause between the songs, when Emma had to stand still and smile and curtsy and wave at the watching men, was in some respects worse than the dancing itself.

Then the third song began. Why did Lance not send Trixi to fetch her? Had he not recognised her? But if not, why was he looking at her so intently?

Towards the end of the song Emma was relieved to see the deputy manageress approaching the stage. She knelt on the edge of the stage to hear Roxana's words.

"You've been booked," said Roxana. "Go to Table 5."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Emma, descending from the stage. She was confused. Lance was not sitting at Table 5. He was at Table 13.

Then with sickening certainty, Emma realised what had happened. Lance had not booked her at all. Another man must have booked her. She hesitated for the briefest moment, but Roxana said irritably, "Hurry up, girl, he's waiting for you."

"Yes, miss," said Emma again. She could not delay any longer. She ran to Table 5. "Good evening, sir," said Emma to the gentleman.

The gentleman was Mr Granicus.

Mr Granicus grinned and stood and reached out with his right hand. He took Emma's left nipple firmly between his thumb and forefinger. Emma winced, but followed obediently as Mr Granicus walked her briskly to the till. She stood beside him as he handed over the fee.

Burning with shame, Emma dared not look at Lance now. As Granicus led her towards the door leading to the elevators, Emma stole the briefest of glances towards Lance. Lance was still looking at her.