INTRODUCTION

 

The planet CORPORA is situated in another galaxy millions of light years from our own. It is quite small, containing two land masses, each about the size of Australia. The soil is fertile and the climate temperate.

In view of the unimaginable size of the Universe, it is perhaps not altogether surprising that life has developed on the same human lines as Earth. There will be variations, of course, but on CORPORA these do not relate to the human bodies but to the social structure.

The two land masses are separated by a vast ocean and there is no contact between them. Each has developed on different social lines. TESTA is entirely ruled by males; DISTA is entirely ruled by females.

On TESTA the females are mere chattels and slaves of men, who control every aspect of their lives. Indeed, the females are treated more like animals than human beings. On DISTA the exact opposite is the case and females completely control the males.

Life is very simple on both TESTA and DISTA. It is very like being in the Middle Ages in Europe. No electricity ... just candles and wood fire. No motorised transport ... just walking and horses. The main occupation on both land masses is agriculture, but there are specialists in hut and house building, furniture making, weaving and so on. There are brass-makers, whip-makers, silversmiths, iron-makers (chains, manacles and the like), wine-makers and many more. On TESTA all work is carried out by women under the direction of men; on DISTA the reverse is the case.

The national watchword of TESTA is: 'OBEDIENCE AT ALL TIMES'.

On DISTA it is: 'WOMEN ARE SUPERIOR'.

These conditions of life developed slowly at first but they have been in existence for so long that they are now accepted as a natural order of events.

This book will be concerned with life on TESTA.

We begin with the small but quite important town of Wilnus, which is some three miles from the coast in the southern part of the land mass. The reason for its importance is that it is a market town. Here men gather at weekly intervals to trade.

And to trade, largely, in female flesh.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

As he bowled along the flat dirt road, Lemm Horak enjoyed the feel of the warm morning sun on his back. The climate of Corpora was most equable, varying between 18 and 21 Lecs throughout the year. There was never any need to wear a lot of clothing, nor was it ever too hot. The female slaves, in any event, never wore any clothing. They were kept permanently completely naked and they were depilated.

Lemm was on his way to Wilnus, which was the market town nearest to his smallholding at Rima. This was comparatively small in area, being 20 Quars, which is the Earth equivalent of 20 acres. However, the size suited Lemm well for he was not an over-ambitious man and enjoyed an easy life. Women, of course, worked the smallholding. There were generally around a dozen of them and he also had half a dozen women for domestic duties and what he thought of as entertainment. In short, his needs were simple compared with some of the larger landowners on Testa.

The cart on which he sat on the front seat was peasant-like in structure but sufficient for his needs. It was pulled at a steady but slow pace by a rather aging bay mare. Quite a few men, he was aware, preferred their carts to be pulled by female slaves. Teams of two, four or six, according to size. But Lemm was not in favour of this. It seemed to him a waste of female labour. Why should a slave have to pull a cart when she could be working in a field? The idea was uneconomic. On the other hand, he was aware that some men enjoyed having sweating females dragging them along ... and applying the whip to back or buttocks whenever necessary. That wasn't to Lemm's way of thinking. Perhaps, at 45, he was getting a little old-fashioned in his ways. Certainly he was quite happy with his bay mare, whose name was Gurda. She was reliable, that was for sure. How was one to guard against one stupid slave stumbling in exhaustion ... falling ... disorganising the whole journey? He'd seen that happen before now. Better to rely on a steady horse-drawn pace.

In the cart, which was really a wooden cage, were three of his slaves. He was on his way to Wilnus to sell them. Each of the naked women had her hands corded behind her. Two of them sat, the third leant against the wooden bars, staring disconsolately into the distance. The reason she was not sitting was fairly obvious. Her ample buttocks were well striped. The previous day, he had ordered his Senior Slave to give the woman a good thrashing for failing to complete her day's tasks. He did not specify how good the thrashing should be, but the woman was well-wealed. That was one of the reasons he was selling. However much she was punished, she didn't seem to be able to make the necessary effort. Too big and cumbersome. A good reason for selling her. Lemm couldn't quite think, now, why he had bought her in the first place.

The other two slaves in the cart were domestic slaves. Younger, more shapely, and reasonably attractive in appearance. Lemm was selling them because he had become a little bored with them. Fresh fields and pastures new were the order of the day.

Lemm heard the sound of a cart coming up behind him at a brisk pace.

"Morning, Lemm!" called a jovial voice.

"Morning, Ogra," replied Lemm. "Fine one, ain't it?"

"Sure is ..."

Ogra's cart drew up alongside Lemm's and passed him. It was being pulled by four slaves ... two on the left, behind each other, two on the right, behind each other. Leather harnessing held them to the shafts to which their wrists were also attached. They pulled mainly with their hands and arms but an under-thong, between each pair of thighs, was also an aid.

Lemm had a brief glimpse of bouncing breasts and swinging buttocks and then the cart of Ogra disappeared into the light dust cloud. They were certainly going at a good pace, he thought. What was the point? Ogra seemed to have had something like half a dozen slaves in the cart that was being pulled. He was younger than Lemm and had a smallholding three times the size of Lemm's. That didn't worry Lemm; he was quite content with what he'd got and his easy-going way of life.

The only thing that worried him was that he was putting on weight, largely of course because he did no work of any account, but also he was fond of his ale and wine. He made his own wine on his smallholding. Or, rather, his slaves did under his supervision. Perhaps I should walk more, or ride more, he told himself. Well, maybe he would. But he had to admit to himself he was a lazy man.

They approached the outskirts of Wilnus ... mainly small or medium-sized houses made of wood. As they neared the centre of the town the houses became larger, some being built of stone. In fact, one such house was in the course of erection. A gang of twenty or more slaves were unloading heavy stones from a cart, placing them on palettes, then carrying them to the building for unloading. It looked very heavy work, thought Lemm; his smallholding slaves should think themselves lucky by comparison. He saw the woman who was marked out as Senior Slave watching the work in progress, her slim, snaking whip trailing in the dirt. Quite a few of the buttocks on show already carried the marks of the whip. The point was, a Senior Slave had to keep her gang up to the mark or she was most likely to get a flogging herself. If you had asked Lemm, he would have said he considered that quite right and proper. If you are given a position of minor authority and don't carry it out satisfactorily, you deserve to pay for it. That was quite a natural and normal thing in life on Testa.

As he approached the centre of the town, and the market place, Lemm saw carts coming in from other directions. Nearly all carried slaves who were going to be put up for sale but a few were loaded with fruit and vegetables. Lemm, whose crop was not very large, did not often bring it in by cart. More usually he had his slaves carry it on their heads in baskets. After all, it was only something like 3 Gells (the equivalent of 3 Earth miles).

Lemm decided to put his cart in the corral and go and look for his agent. He didn't want to bother with the sale of these slaves but was more interested in buying new ones. He jumped down from his seat and tethered Gurda then, without so much as a glance at his slaves in the cart, he wandered off into the market.

As usual, all was hustle and bustle. A lot of noise, chattering, laughter. Lemm always found it rather exciting. It was, indeed, the highlight of the week for most local residents. He wandered into a nearby tavern and ordered a Tril (one pint) of ale. It came in a pewter mug and he drank thankfully.

As he had half expected, Lemm saw his agent Pelion come into the tavern. "Like another?" asked Pelion and Lemm handed him his mug for a refill. The two men sat down on a wooden bench. "Brought anything in today?"

"Not much," answered Lemm. "There's a couple of reasonable domestics that could make 500 apiece. Got a fat lazy one - won't fetch more than 250 Gilds, I reckon. Should be fit for the Breeding Grounds, though."

The Breeding Grounds were situated in the Northern Territory of Testa and women were sent there purely for the purpose of producing and rearing off-spring. Teams of young males go up there for a week or so's holiday, with the sole purpose of making as many women pregnant as possible.

Children were reared by their mother until the age of eight. Then the sexes divide. Girls went to a school to learn domesticity and discipline. The regime of such schools was strict and punishment commonplace.

Boys went to a separate school to learn the arts and crafts, agriculture, wood-working, archery and the like. No punishments for them.

At eighteen, the girls were taken to market and sold for the first time.

Boys would lodge with an older male and quickly learn the ways of life on Testa. They receive a State grant and are able to set up their own establishment - albeit, a small one at first.

Pelion scratched his head. "Breeding Grounds, eh - I'll try that, then," he said.

"Yes, good, thanks for the drink," said Lemm. "See you in here later on."

"Right." Pelion lumbered out and made for the corral. Lemm also left the tavern and headed for the market place. As usual, he started his circuit in the north-west corner. Here was a stall loaded with youngsters. They were chained with arms aloft to four parallel beams. Some looked nervous; some downright frightened. This was most understandable for this was the girls' first experience of true slavery. Each knew that some male was going to buy her, put her to work ... and do whatever he liked with her. Each also knew that, if they were lazy, inefficient or disobedient, they would be thrashed with a cane or flogged with a whip. They had learnt that at school.

'THE YOUNG MART' said a large sign, then underneath: 'ALL FRESH. MANY VIRGINS. GUARANTEED NOTHING OVER 18'.

Lemm strolled in. He wasn't particularly interested in these youngsters, besides they could come very expensive. But he liked to look around.

"Morning Lemm," said the Proprietor, whose name was Ogra. "Changed your mind about youngsters, then?"

"Just taking a look," said Lemm.

"Help yourself," said Ogra. He reckoned that, one day, Lemm would change his mind about buying some young meat. He smacked the bottom of a girl who was crying softly. "Stop that snivelling," he said, "or I'll give you something to snivel about. Smile!" Desperately the girl tried to check her tears and her mouth widened in a travesty of a smile. Lemm strolled up and down the line noting that some of these youngsters really looked quite mature. Plump bottoms, well-rounded breasts; others were immature and school-girlish in appearance. All sold well, however, that he knew. Ogra did not like potential customers feeling around so Lemm kept his hands to himself.

Ogra approached. "Look at this one, Lemm," he said pointing to a girl with very good breasts. "Could be all of 18, eh? Make a fine domestic!" Lemm saw the truth in that but was not going to be diverted from his main purpose of the day.

"Yes, reckon you're right, Ogra," he said. "But some other time, eh? I've got something else in mind today."

"Please yourself," said Ogra and moved off. There was a new customer who seemed to be interested in a girl on the end of the line. Bargaining soon began. Lemm left and moved on round the market.

The next stall had a rather unusual display. Six big-buttocked women were kneeling side by side on a bench, heads down and hindquarters raised, projecting towards passers-by.

'ARSEHOLES FOR SALE' said sign above them. Then in smaller lettering: 'Many never previously penetrated. Ask for details!'

Lemm was not interested in arseholes but he hung around for a while. The display was rather entertaining ... and quite few men did seem interested.

"How much for this one?" asked one, patting just above the biggest bottom on display.

"A real beauty, ain't she?" said the Proprietor. "Lovely lot of meat on her. You can have her for 800 Gilds."

"800? That's too much for an arsehole," said the man.

"Suit yourself, mate. I'll get 800 for her before the day's out." The man moved off huffily. Lemm followed him. He had never been quite able to understand this preference for an arsehole to a cunt.

The next stall along was known as 'THE BEAUTY BOX' and underneath: 'We have the best slaves in the market!'

This rather bold statement was, in fact, true. Also, the owner, bought dear and sold dear. There was no doubt that he handled only quality merchandise. Unfortunately for Lemm, they were rather out of his price range. But, one day, I'll get enough money together to buy one of those beauties, he told himself. There were about a dozen slaves on the stall, posed in provocative ways, some in chains, some not. The figures on display were excellent. Superb firm breasts, curvaceous buttocks, long thighs.

In the centre of the stall, standing on a little dais was an attractive girl under a banner which read: 'TODAY'S BARGAIN BUY'. Hanging round her neck was a price tag. Lemm saw the price was 1,800 Gilds. A quick look around the selection showed him that everything else there was over 2,000 Gilds; some as high as 2,500.

Aldo was trying to drum up business which was always slower in the mornings. It improved after the tavern began to empty.

"Roll up and take a look," he shouted through the megaphone. "See the best tits in town. Feast your eyes on the most beautiful bums around. We don't sell rubbish. Only the best!"

It was all true, thought Lemm. There were some real beauties up there. Just a pity they cost so much.

The next stall was a complete contrast. It was called 'WORKERS' WAREHOUSE'. The sign read: 'Strong slaves for the toughest tasks!'

Here the emphasis was not on curves and beauty but on muscular fitness. Most of the women were quite ugly but they were broad-shouldered and strong-limbed. Ideal for heavy work. Lemm had built up his agricultural squad from this stall. He was not, at the moment, interest4ed in increasing his squad, so moved on.

He passed a series of stalls owned by small traders. Some had only a couple of slaves for sale, some four or five. The quality was not high and purchases could usually be made between the 500 and 800 Gild range. This, when he wanted to, was where Lemm did most of his buying.

He came to a stall which had a single slave for sale. She was positioned rather unusually. She lay on her back on a bench, arms wide and chained to it. Her legs were raised and spread wide, ankles secured to a beam overhead. The Proprietor was idly whittling a stick.

"What's the idea?" asked Lemm, grinning.

The man looked up. "The idea, mate, is to attract attention. Like the look of that cunt, do you?"

"Not much," answered Lemm.

"It's yours for 900 Gilds."

A man carrying a tray and a collecting box approached him. "Lottery ticket, Guv?" he enquired. The Lottery was part of the city's way of raising money and normally Lemm didn't contribute. Thought it a waste of money. This time, though, he put a hand in his pocket and pulled out 5 Gilds.

"Give me 5 tickets," he said. The man ripped them out of the book which lay in his tray.

"Results in about an hour, Guv," he said. Lemm grunted and moved on. He'd never won a lottery in his life. The prizes, he knew, were 10,00 Gilds first, 5,000 Gilds second, 2,000 Gilds third. Any one of which would be more than welcome.

He felt a little bubble of excitement rise within him as he approached the next stall. It was, to say the least, a notorious one. The Proprietor ran it more or less as a brothel and Lemm was wont to use it from time to time.

'HOT GOODS' announced the sign. Underneath it said: 'TRY IT BEFORE YOU BUY IT! 2 Gilds a feel ... 20 Gilds a fuck!'

Lemm paused before the stall. There were a dozen or more girls on display, most of them quite attractive. All were for sale but Britz, the Proprietor, ran a side-line which was quite profitable. "Morning Lemm," he called out. "Fancy anything?"

"I'll take a look," answered Lemm, mounting on to the stand. He was, in fact, feeling quite randy. Why shouldn't he have a little frolic? The naked girls were smiling and prancing ... bouncing their tits, wriggling their bottoms ... as Britz had told them to do. Lemm caught sight of a plump young brunette with ample tits and a swelling arse. "I'll try this one," he said, handing 20 Gilds over to Britz. "Might even buy it," he added. Which was most unlikely.

With haunches still swinging seductively, the girl led the way to the back of the stall where there was a series of small tent-cabins in a row. From the sounds that could be heard one knew what was going on.

"Try it before you buy it!" Britz could be heard calling from the front of the stall.

"This one's free," said the girl, opening a tent flap and going in. There was a bunk within and nothing more. "How would you like me, Sir?" she asked obsequiously.

"Just get your arse in the air and your thighs open," said Lemm, unfastening his belt. His garments fell to the floor. The girl ... whose name he did not even bother to ask ... positioned herself. Yes ... it was quite a good arse; the depilated cunt seemed to have quite thick, but attractive lips. Lemm fiddled about with himself by a while, then came steadily to erection. He knelt down behind the girl on the bunk and, without any preliminaries, rammed into her. She felt quite soft and warm. Enjoyable. Probably been had not long before, thought Lemm, thrusting in and out in his usual powerful and uncomplicated fashion. Mmmm ... yes ... this girl knew how to use her arse. She was co-operating nicely.

Slllaappp ... ssslllappp. Belly to buttocks. Slllaappp ... ssslllappp. Belly to buttocks. Nice ... nice. The sounds from an adjoining tent-cabin indicated that someone was getting a great deal of pleasure. That stimulated Lemm who began to ram faster. The bottom squirmed under his driving. Nice ... nice. Was this slave getting roused? Or was she pretending? It didn't matter much.

Lemm fucked steadily for five or six minutes, then knew he was getting really roused. He increased the pace further.

"O-Ohh ... you juicy little tart," he panted. The bottom he was using wriggling incessantly. This one either truly liked being fucked or was an excellent faker. Anyway, Lemm was enjoying himself no end.

Snorting happily, he came to a climax, then slumped down on the naked girl for a couple of minutes to recover. He withdrew.

"You going to buy me, Sir?" asked the girl, a shade anxiously.

"I'll think about it," answered Lemm. "Be back later."

"Thank you, Sir," said the girl politely. Lemm was aware that Britz was often likely to thrash girls who had been fucked but not then purchased. He pulled up his trousers and left the booth.

"Alright?" enquired Britz.

"Not bad at all," replied Lemm. "I may be back."

"Fine ... look forward to seeing you." The girl whom Lemm had just ravaged took her place back amongst the other slaves on the stall. Such things were all part of Market Day.