Time Slave

8

“I see that you are still a virgin,” said William.

Hamilton was silent.

She stood before the two men, under the light bulb, barefoot on the floor of her cell, the cot and mattress in the background, stripped, freed of the shackles, wrists cuffed behind her back.

“Is your examination finished?” she asked.

“I would have thought that Gunther would have used you by now,” said William.

“She is for others to use,” said Gunther.

Hamilton’s physical examination had been thorough, including blood and urine samples taken earlier in the day.

William’s black bag lay beside his cane chair.

When they had entered the room together this evening, she had been startled. William was a physician. Gunther was not.

She had not wished to strip herself before Gunther, not in the presence of another man.

“Remove your clothing,” had said William.

“No,” had said Hamilton.

“Are you being insubordinate?” had asked William.

“No,” she had whispered.

Gunther’s eyes had met hers. He had snapped his fingers.

Clumsily, quickly, she had pulled the cotton shift over her head.

“Turn about,” he had said.

He had put her wrists in handcuffs, thrown her to the cot, removed the shackles from her.

“Stand,” he had said.

She did so.

“Come here, dear,” had said William, opening his kit, removing a stethoscope.

“Must Gunther be present?” she bad begged.

“Is a slave modest?” asked Gunther.

“No!” she said, angrily.

She had approached William. The examination had begun.

William now snapped shut his kit, but left it on the floor. He, sitting, Gunther, too, to one side, regarded her.

“Is the examination finished,” she asked.

“Come closer,” said William.

She did so.

He looked up at her. She looked away.

“Do you find that you desire sexual experience?” asked William.

“No,” she said.

“It does not matter,” said William. “That you yourself are found sexually desirable will be more than sufficient.”

Hamilton looked at him with horror.

“We shall now conduct a small experiment,” said William. He placed his hand, gently, cupped, between her legs. He lifted his hand, pressing it gently against her delta.

Hamilton looked away.

“Now say aloud, slowly, five times,” said William, “the name Gunther.”

She looked at Gunther. She did as she was told.

To her horror she felt her body, her hair, press into William’s hand. She wished it was Gunther’s hand.

William lifted the hand. He held it before Hamilton, who quickly turned her face away. For the first time, she had smelled the odor, her own, of an aroused female.

“For all practical purposes, Gunther,” said William, “this woman belongs to you.”

“I can have many women,” said Gunther.

Hamilton closed her eyes.

“Of course,” said William.

Hamilton opened her eyes, furious. “Are you quite finished with this examination?” she asked, icily.

“The medical portion is completed,” said William.

She looked at Gunther.

“Gunther,” said William, “was requested to be present by Professor Herjellsen. He is supposed to render something in the nature of a consulting opinion, though not precisely from the medical point of view.”

Gunther went behind Hamilton, and removed the cuffs from her.

She stood across the room from them.

“He is to render something in the nature of a flesh assessment, or appraisal,” said William.

Hamilton blushed.

“I informed Herjellsen I am fully capable of rendering such an opinion myself,” said William, smiling.

“I’m sure you are,” said Hamilton.

She looked at Gunther. His eyes frightened her. He had looked, she knew, on countless women. He had even looked on them in slave markets.

“How do you find her?” asked William.

Gunther did not answer him.

He continued to look at Hamilton, until her eyes fell, acknowledging his dominance, her femaleness.

“Do not, William,” said Gunther, “interfere with me in what I am going to do.”

“Very well, old man,” said William.

Hamilton looked at Gunther, angrily.

“You will follow my instructions implicitly,” said Gunther to Hamilton, “without question, without hesitation, and in your mind and imagination, as well as in your body.”

“No,” whispered Hamilton.

“A slave obeys,” said Gunther. His hands went to the buckle of his heavy belt.

“I will obey,” said Hamilton.

“A slave,” said Gunther, “is given no place to hide. Her entire person is her master’s. She is totally open to him. You will follow my instructions, accordingly, in your mind and imagination, as well as in your body.”

“I am not a slave,” said Hamilton.

“For the next four minutes,” said Gunther, “you are a female slave.”

“Gunther,” protested William.

“Do not interfere,” said Gunther.

William shrugged, angrily, and returned his attention to Hamilton.

“For the next four minutes,” said Gunther to Hamilton, “you are a female slave-only a female slave.”

Hamilton looked at him. “Very well,” she said, “-Master.”

William breathed in, sharply.

“Close your eyes,” said Gunther.

Hamilton did so.

“Think now,” said Gunther, “think deeply, of yourself as a slave.”

“Very well,” said Hamilton.

“It will be impossible for this to be simulated,” said Gunther, “for there is a congruence between the thought and the behavior, and if this congruence is not present, betrayed by the slightest, most subtle, unconscious inappropriateness of behavior, you will be beaten.”

She looked at him, frightened.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She did so.

“You are familiar, surely, with Stanislavsky’s theories of acting?” he asked.

She nodded, terrorized.

“Think of yourself now,” he said, “profoundly, as a female slave.”

Hamilton, frightened, dared to do so.

Suddenly she felt herself slave. Her body shuddered. She moaned with misery. “You are now a slave,” said Gunther, “a slave girl, willess and rightless, completely at my bidding.”

Hamilton’s body shook.

“Do you understand?” asked Gunther.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You are owned,” said Gunther. “You may be bought and sold. You may be whipped or slain. You are branded. You must do what men command you.”

Hamilton, in misery, slipped to her knees, her head down.

“Before,” said Gunther, “you were acting, but you are not acting now.”

She shook her head.

“Now,” said Gunther, “the acting is finished-what are you now?”

“A slave,” she whispered, “-Master.”

“To the block, Slave,” said Gunther.

Brenda Hamilton stood on the slave block, her body reflecting the torchlight. She felt sawdust beneath her feet. She felt herself turn and felt the auctioneer, his hand on her arm, exhibiting her. She heard the cries, the bids, of the men.

“You have been sold,” Gunther informed her.

She stumbled from the block. She felt her wrists locked in slave chains. She felt herself hooded.

When the hood was torn away, in a large, marble-floored room, with rings set in the floor, she first saw, clearly, the features of her master.

She had been fastened by the wrists to one of the rings.

“He beats you,” said Gunther.

She writhed beneath the blows of the whip.

Sobbing in pain she felt her wrists unfastened from the ring.

“You are eager to please him,” said Gunther.

She danced her beauty before him, to placate him, pleadingly, piteously.

“He consents to let you please him,” said Gunther.

Hamilton crept to the cushions and arched her body for the kiss and touch of her master.

Suddenly she felt her left hand handcuffed and heard the other cuff closed about the iron bar at the head of the cot.

Her face was slapped to one side.

“You are no longer a slave,” said Gunther. “You are the female prisoner, Doctor Brenda Hamilton.”

“Yes, Gunther,” she said. She turned her head to one side.

William was standing, watching her, in awe. “Fantastic,” he said.

“That is how an assessment is made of a woman, short of using her,” said Gunther.

“What is your opinion?” asked William.

“What is yours?” asked Gunther.

“Incredible, fantastic,” breathed William.

Gunther looked at Hamilton. “She is satisfactory,” he said.

With his foot he shoved the wastes bucket to the side of the cot.

They had not put the shift on her again.

The men turned to leave.

“Gunther,” said Hamilton.

“Yes?” he said.

“Why was I examined today?” she asked, red-eyed.

“Did William not tell you?” asked Gunther.

“No,” she said.

“Yesterday evening,” said Gunther, “quite late, we managed to transmit the leopard.”

She looked at him.

“You understand what this means?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“We can now transmit an animal of that size and weight,” he said.

She looked at him.

“Nothing now stands in our way,” said Gunther. He regarded her. “The third phase of experiments can soon begin.” He looked at her. “How much do you weigh?” he asked.

“One hundred and nineteen pounds,” said Hamilton.

“The leopard,” said Gunther, “weighed one hundred and forty pounds.”

“It seems, then, Gunther,” she said, “that I need not fear either the bush or the slave markets of the north and east.”

“Not our bush,” said Gunther, “not our markets.”

She looked at him.

“Doubtless there are other wildernesses,” said Gunther, “other men, other markets.”

She pulled at the handcuff, defeated.