THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

                            by

                          Watcher


 
"You're with the...underground railway?" Rachel Adams said, not 
managing to hide the incredulity in her voice.  By her side, her 
friend, Sally Ann Chamberlain, looked equally shocked.
 
"Is it so hard to believe?" Victoria asked as she brushed her 
glossy black hair out of her bright blue eyes.  "All those times 
you talked about the Abolitionist movement at school.  Did you 
think I was not listening?"
 
The two northern girls did not know what to say.  Victoria's family 
did not have a plantation or own any slaves.  They were too poor 
for that.  In fact, the only reason Victoria had been able to 
attend the same exclusive school as they did was because her father 
was a teacher there, and his children were able to attend for next 
to nothing.  None of the girls there had ever let her forget that 
she was a charity case.  All the same, she was southern through and 
through, and nothing she had ever said suggested she disapproved of 
slavery.
 
"And that's why I asked you both down from Boston," Victoria went 
on.  "I know that you're both in the Abolitionist movement.  Why, 
at school I don't think a day passed without you asking me about 
the lives of the slaves."  She did not add that their questions 
had focused mainly on the lives of the nigra wenches.  How were 
they treated, what did they wear?  How were they shown at auction?  
That one had particularly interested them.  They had squeezed her 
for the smallest details
 
"I want to set up a line of the railway here, but I will need your 
help."
 
Their eyes went wide as they realised the implications.  The town 
outside the hotel was a bustling engine of commerce.  South of the 
Mason-Dixon line, it had grown up on the mighty Mississippi River. 
Trade in all sorts of goods flowed up and down the river.  More 
importantly, if they could become involved in helping set up a line 
in the underground railway, they would be heroes to everyone in the 
movement.  Instead of simply being rich hangers-on, they would be 
the centre of attention.  Finally they would have fame and respect 
in the movement.
 
"I saw slaves being marched though the street on my way to the 
hotel," Rachel murmured softly but with pent up emotion.  "It was 
terrible.  The men were only wearing these brief loincloths, and 
the women...."  She took a deep, ragged breath before she could 
continue.  "They only had these shifts -- which were so short 
and...."  She shuddered as she remembered the scene.
 
"They really looked quite fetching," Sally Ann said.  When Rachel 
elbowed her, she quickly added.  "But quite scandalous.  Shocking 
really.  Do they really make the women wear such short dresses all 
the time?  I could see all of their arms and above their knees.  
And they didn't have any shoes or stockings."
 
"It gets hot down in these parts," Victoria said.  "Makes it easier 
for them to work in the fields."  Then, knowing of the two girls' 
interests, she added ever so casually.  "Of course if it really 
gets hot the overseers will make them take off those dresses and 
work in the fields naked."
 
"Naked!" the two girls gasped, and Victoria saw them having to 
shift the position of their skirts yet again.  They looked quite 
agitated at the idea.  The two young ladies exchanged secret looks 
before they turned back to Victoria.  "One of them was really 
white looking," Rachel said quietly as if she could barely bring 
herself to utter the words.
 
"And she was chained up like the others," Sally Ann said.  "And 
wearing that dress.  I could...I could see most of her breasts, 
and all the men were leering at her.  The poor girl looked shocked 
out of her wits...."
 
"She kept trying to pull away from the slave coffle, but one of the 
overseers cracked a whip right over her ear, and she settled down," 
Rachel finished for her.
 
Victoria nodded her head knowingly.  "A fancy girl then, probably a 
quadroon.  Either she's been uppity, and her master's teaching her 
a lesson by putting her in the coffle along with the field hands -- 
or she really is being sold."
 
"And will they strip her when she goes to the block?" Sally Ann 
asked in a hushed voice.  Perhaps the girl did not realise it, but 
both her hands, originally clasped together on her lap, now seemed 
to be pressing down against her groin.
 
Victoria's eyes flicked to Rachel.  The girl was sitting on the 
very edge of her seat with her legs clamped together and her hands 
clasped in front of her.  She nodded.  "But, of course.  She'll be 
made to prance around butt-naked on the block."  Rachel's eyes went 
wide at the news.
 
Their reaction came as no surprise to her.  After all the only time 
they had put their hands in their pockets and paid for anything for 
her was when they brought her to the Abolitionist meetings.  There 
freed or escaped slaves told the audience of their treatment.  One 
particularly exclusive meeting had been different with the entry 
fee a lot higher.  Actors playing the roles of southern slave 
dealers stripped the girl and put her through the same sort of 
paces they would have at a real auction.  They even went as far as 
to play with the girl and make her cum.  Both Rachel and Sally Ann 
had been speechless afterwards.  Of course that did not stop them 
returning to such special meetings time after time after time.
 
"But she's white," Rachel protested.  "I thought she even looked 
familiar, but she was wearing some sort of muzzle on her face.  I 
couldn't make her out."
 
"A lot of quadroons look white," Victoria pointed out.  "It don't 
stop the men from stripping them and making them dance lively on 
the block, though.  And that's why I need your help in finding 
some volunteers."
 
"Volunteers?" Rachel asked, her eyes alight with images of 
frightened beautiful white slave girls being stripped on the 
auction block and made to show their charms to the admiring 
crowd of bidders.  Sally Ann looked equally enthralled.
 
So Victoria laid out her plan.  Slaves could not read or write so 
letters could not be passed to them.  And it was impossible for 
someone like Victoria to spend any length of time with them in the 
slave huts when she went to visit the neighbouring plantations.  So 
denied the ability to pass notes or talk in privacy to the slaves 
what she needed were volunteers to act the part of slave girls.  If 
they were white, they could be fancy girls, and no one would pass 
any remarks if they were put in with the other slaves at night when 
their mistress came a-visiting.  There they could organise the 
slaves, show them the way to freedom in the north along the 
underground railway.
 
"Of course I'm not sure where I could hope to find any such brave, 
adventurous women," Victoria went on, frowning with concern.   
"They would be safe under my protection.  And good quality fancy 
girls are too valuable to damage.  But they would have to dress 
and act like good slaves...."
 
"They wouldn't be hurt?" Rachel asked carefully.
 
"And it would only be for a little while?" Sally Ann said a second 
later.
 
"Fancy girls are too valuable to damage," Victoria repeated.  
"Less, of course, they did something stupid like hit some white 
folk.  As for how long, I figure a month -- two at the most."
 
Rachel looked over at Sally Ann and then slowly both girls nodded 
to each other.  Their eyes were shining with enthusiasm.  "We could 
do it," Rachel said softly as she struggled to hide her obvious 
excitement.
 
"You will?" Victoria clapped her hands with joy.  "That's just 
splendid.  Why, I can't imagine there'll be a man or woman in 
the Abolitionist movement who won't want to hear your story 
when you get back."
 
"But we don't know anything about acting as slaves," Rachel said. 
Nothing could be truer, for all the 26 years of their lives, every 
luxury and comfort that money could buy had been extended to them.
 
Victoria smiled.  "Never you worry.  I will show you everything 
you need to know."
 
"First things first," Victoria said as she walked over to one of 
her large travel trunks.  "I need you out of those fine dresses 
and down to your skin."  She expected some hesitation, but behind 
her she heard Rachel giggle, and, in a low voice, Sally Ann 
murmured to her friend, "It'll be just like our dress-up games."
 
By the time Victoria had retrieved the items she wanted from the 
trunk, both girls had taken off their dresses and were in the 
process of removing their shifts and stockings.  Both were quite 
beautiful, and, putting down the various items she had selected, 
Victoria allowed herself the pleasure of watching them undress.
 
With her long auburn hair and buxom chest, Rachel had enjoyed being 
one of the prettiest girls at school.  As she slipped off her shift 
Victoria was pleased to see that the tufts of hair between her legs 
matched the hair on her head.  Sally Ann, with her light brown 
hair, was taller and not quite so well endowed.  All the same, her 
breasts were generous enough, and she had the most delightful pink 
nipples that, even now, were fully erect. 
 
For a few seconds they looked nervous to be standing naked before 
the fully-dressed Victoria.  Both made efforts to hide their 
breasts and groins, but Victoria shook her head.  "We're all girls 
here," she said as she guided first Rachel's and then Sally Ann's 
arms to their sides.  "And you will have to get used to being 
inspected."
 
She gave them a smile.  "And you two are so pretty I'm sure the 
gentlemen will all want to have a closer, more intimate look at 
both of you."
 
She saw their chests puff with pride as their egos were stroked.  
Then the rest of the remark began to sink in, and they suddenly 
began to look uncomfortable.  "And we'll need to be shaving off 
those curls," Victoria said as she laid out shaving mug, brush, 
and razor as she nodded between their legs.  "Masters just love 
the sight of fancy girls bare down there.  Makes them all nice 
and sensitive."
 
Rachel looked forlorn at the thought of losing her "big girl 
curls," but Sally Ann took her by the arm and laid her flat on 
her back on the rug.  Bending over she murmured something softly 
into her friend's ear, and a moment later Rachel chuckled and 
parted her legs.  Once she had warm water, Sally Ann set to work.  
It was done in no time, and then it was Sally Ann's turn to lie 
down and spread her long legs.  Just like her friend, she began to 
giggle at first, then gasp, as the brush ran over the crease 
between her legs.  With her eyes closed and a smile on her face, 
she was obviously enjoying the experience. 
 
"It's so smooth," Rachel gasped when she was finally finished and 
free to trail her fingers across her hairless mound. 
 
"And sensitive," Sally Ann agreed as she played with her own mound. 
 
"Rub some of this on," Victoria ordered as she tossed them a small 
jar of amber cream.  "And don't be getting any on your head."
 
"What is it?" Rachel asked even as she was opening the jar.
 
"When you get an order from your owner, you don't ask why," 
Victoria snapped.  Then her tone softened.  "You need to learn 
this if you're going to pass."
 
"Yassa, Miss Victoria," Rachel said quickly as she tried to imitate 
the dialect of the slaves.  Victoria could see how she blushed even 
more as she spoke the words.
 
It was only when both girls had first rubbed the cream generously 
between their legs and, after a suitable time had passed, cleaned 
it off, that Victoria explained.  The cream would stop the hair 
growing back for months.  Otherwise, they would have to be shaved 
weekly.
 
Next came the slave shackles, which Victoria locked around their 
ankles.  The chimes of the chains as they shuffled about was music 
to her ears.  "Dance," she ordered.  Both girls looked at her in 
confusion.  The fetters gave very little room for them to move 
their legs around, let alone dance.
 
"Don't you know any slave dances?  Get those knees up," Victoria 
half-ordered and half-explained. "Hands behind heads. In the big 
house we might have a fiddler play you a lively tune, but here 
you'll just have to do without."
 
Slowly at first both girls complied.  They clasped their hands 
behind their necks and started to raise first one knee and then 
other, as far as they dared.  "Faster," Victoria snapped.  "Get 
those knees a-pumping."  She fondled a vicious-looking riding 
crop and looked ready to use it.
 
It was a delicate operation, for, if they raised their legs too 
high, the chain would snap taut, and the fetter would dig painfully 
into their ankles just before they tumbled to the floor.  As the 
minutes passed, however, and with practicem both girls began to 
learn better to judge exactly how much slack there was.  To 
Victoria's delight they were both soon hopping like any other 
nigra slave. 
 
She settled down in her chair and poured herself a glass of fine 
red wine.  It really was a sight. With their hands clasped behind 
their necks, both girls' breasts danced lively, especially those 
of the more buxom Rachel.  The heat began to get to them, and, hot 
from the unfamiliar exertion, their bodies were soon glistening 
with a sheen of sweat.  It was almost as if someone had anointed 
their skin with fine oil.  As for the way each step in the dance 
gave a glimpse of shaved pussy, Victoria could understand why men 
liked slave-dancing so much.
 
Seeing that they were starting to flag, Victoria brandished her 
crop.  "When you're set to dancing, you keep dancing till you're 
told to stop."  Sipping her wine, she could see how much the chains 
and being danced naked was affecting the girls.  Both had their 
eyes closed.  Perhaps it was in concentration, but something told 
her they were imagining doing this on the block or the plantation 
instead of the privacy of the hotel room.  What a sight they would 
make on the auction block.  Tits bouncing and dancing, trim 
rounded flanks glistening with sweat.  Firm white thighs parted 
just for a second or so to give a glimpse of a denuded crotch...a 
crotch damp with sweat or perhaps excitement and arousal.
 
Finally she allowed them to stop, and both girls almost collapsed 
in exhaustion.  She let them gather their wits for a few minutes, 
then put down the crop and picked up a more conventional wooden 
slave paddle.  At the sight of the paddle, Rachel's eyes went wide, 
and she began to back away.  Curiously, Sally Ann only licked her 
lips nervously, but she stood her ground.
 
"Now you two are going to get your first-ever slave paddling," 
Victoria said, though her voice made it sound like they were 
being given their first-ever ponies.  "Just a few licks so you 
can see what it's like."  She gave them a slow, knowing smile.  
"And you can each hold each other for it."
 
"A paddling?" Rachel gasped as she held up her hands before her, 
aparently hoping to fend it off.
 
"But I have to," Victoria explained in a voice laden with sympathy 
and sadness.  "Why, if one of you were to do something you're not 
supposed to in front of others, it would be expected of me to give 
you a paddling.  Right there on the spot if needed." 
 
She lowered the paddle.  "Of course, if you're wanting to stop, I 
understand.  As I said, very few would have the courage and 
commitment required for this role."  She let the challenge hang 
in the air for a moment, then added a little carrot.  "I even hear 
that the paddle warms up the blood of a nigra girl.  Gets her all 
hot and frisky."
 
Rachel still looked uncertain, but clinking, in her shackles, Sally 
Ann shuffled across the floor to her friend.  For the ease with 
which she made the crossing, one might have thought she had been 
born wearing shackles.  She actually seemed to like their on her 
ankles.
 
She murmured something quietly to Rachel that Victoria could not 
hear, then reached up and wrapped her arms around her friend's 
neck.  She drew her close, and, a moment later, Rachel responded 
in kind.  From the way they stood, Victoria was sure that not only 
were their breasts pressing against each other, they were actually 
grinding their shaved crotches together.
 
Victoria started with Sally Ann first.  The slave paddle was light 
in her hand, but she knew how to get the maximum effect from the 
wood, as she began lightly at first, then progressed to slower, 
heavier blows. 
 Grunts of pain and gasps of what might have been base animal 
pleasure began to come from Sally Ann as the paddle turned her 
white butt-cheeks a colourful pink and then an angry red.
 
Then it was Rachel's turn.  She hung on for dear life, and Victoria 
smirked as the way she pressed her breasts against Sally Ann as the 
paddling started to redden her bottom.  She began to sob, but Sally 
Ann gathered her closer.  She stroked the back of her neck and 
guided Rachel's head to rest of the soft pillow of her bosom.  
There her grunts of pain began to ease even if the tempo of the 
paddle against her naked ass did not.  By the time Victoria was 
finished, Rachel too wore a pained but satisfied expression.
 
"I do declare," Victoria beamed as she admired their freshly 
paddled rears.  "You are just the picture.  All pretty in pink." 
Alright, girls, you can relax now."

Oblivious, however, the two continued to grind their heated bodies 
together until Victoria forcibly separated them.  Rachel in 
particular looked resentful at being prised apart.  Victoria had 
often wondered how close they were as friends at school.  Some 
nights they even slept in the same bed -- for warmth they said.  
Even coming from the heat of the South, Victoria had always found 
the school warm enough.
 
"Now the next part, you ain't going to like it, but you got to do 
it," Victoria warned.  "It ain't likely you would be called to do 
it but...."
 
"What?" Sally Ann demanded eagerly while she continued to stroke 
Rachel.
 
"Fancy girls are expected to be moist and juicy all the time.  You 
might be called upon to show how fast -- and how often -- you 
can...cum."
 
They looked shocked, but not nearly as outraged as Victoria might 
have expected.  A knowing look passed from Sally Ann to Rachel, 
who even winked, and Victoria was left with the impression that 
they were no strangers to this rite.  Given the secretive smiles 
that kept passing between them, Victoria wondered how they would 
have reacted if she had told them to play with each other.
 
Sally Ann led the way.  Her hand trailed down over her stomach and 
slid over her shaved crotch.  Then her fingers slithered deep 
inside herself, and she threw back her head as her fingers began 
to move.  Rachel was more hesitant and still occasionally rubbed 
her throbbing bottom.
 
Seeing her friend at work, Rachel's face flushed, but Victoria gave 
her a reassuring smile.  "Go on.  I've heard it will even take away 
the sting of a good paddling."
 
With an embarrassed look, Rachel reached down and began to copy the 
movements of her friend.   Sally Ann was already gasping as she 
worked herself up to a fever pitch.  Rachel quickly followed suit. 
In no time at all, Victoria watched as first Sally Ann's and then 
Rachel's body went rigid as they cried out in pleasure.
 
"Again," Victoria ordered sweetly.  "Practice makes perfect."  She 
grinned as they set to work again.  Their fingers were sticky with 
sweat and their bodies' juices, but they did not let that hold 
them back.  Sally Ann began to gasp loudly.  Initially, she had 
tried to restrain herself, but, in the face of a second orgasm, 
her control slipped, and she began to moan.  Rachel was only 
seconds behind her, crying and grunting.
 
"Again," Victoria snapped, letting her tone grow harder.  "Work 
those little beans.  You want to please your massahs don't you?  
You want to play with those little buttons between your legs, 
don't you?  What are you, Sally Ann?"
 
"Ah's a hot, juicy fancy girl, Miss Victoria," Sally Ann gasped as 
she worked to bring herself off a third time.  Her eyes were closed 
as her first two fingers rubbed with increasing urgency.  "Ah gots 
me such a burnin' twixt mah legs.  Ah jist loves to cum, massah."

"But you look white."

"Oh, no, m-missy," Sally Ann grunted.  "Mebbe Ah looks white on 'e 
outside, but Ah's jist a quadroon.  Inside Ah'm a randy nigra....  
Oh, lordy!"  And she orgasmed again. 

Victoria was pleased at the girl's ability as a mimic.   
 
"And what are you?" she demanded, turning to Rachel, whose ample 
breasts were jumping nicely as she fingered herself faster and 
faster.
 
"Ah's jist a randy slave, massah," Rebecca exclaimed.  "Wi' hot 
nigra blood pumpin' in mah veins."

"I can believe THAT," Victoria smirked.  "And your 'friend,' too."
 
All in all, she made them cum three more times before she finally 
allowed the shaking and exhausted girls to rest.  Their thighs 
glistened with a slick coating of their juices.  Rachel began to 
look around for something to wipe herself down with, but Victoria 
stopped her with a single command.  "Leave it.  Let everyone see 
and smell you for what you are, a slave who loves to diddle 
herself."
 
Then her harsh expression softened.  "It felt good to obey your 
master, didn't it, girls?"
 
Rachel bowed her head in embarrassment.  Sally Ann grinned.  
"Yassa, Miss Victoria," they cried in unison. 
 
"Well, look at the time," Victoria she said as she studied the 
pendulum clock.  "Time's a-wasting, and pleasurable as it's been 
watching you two get all hot and sweaty, we have work to do."
 
From the trunk she picked out two shifts, just like the slaves who 
had been marched through the town had been wearing.  Rachel turned 
up her nose as she clutched the dress.  "It smells," she protested.
 
"Good, honest, slave sweat," Victoria, said though she was careful 
to keep her distance from the hemp dresses.  The stench was truly 
appalling.  "Might be some dried buck seed there as well," she 
said absently in passing. 
 
Sally Ann was clearly the more adventurous one.  She had already 
pulled the shift down over her head.   The dress was so thin and 
tight as it gripped her chest, Victoria could clearly see her stiff 
nipples jutting out.  Ending shorter than even the usually brief 
slave girls' dresses, it covered the top half of her bottom and 
quim, while leaving the lower halves tantalisingly visible. 
 
"I can't wear this," Rachel protested as she tried to tug the 
hemline down farther.  Her shift was of a size with Sally Ann's, 
but Rachel's breasts were more generous.  The effect was that it 
did not manage to cover anything but the extreme top of her denuded 
crotch.  The scooped neckline looked like was one breath away from 
surrendering to the strain of holding back her breasts.
 
"Now don't you fret," Victoria told her.  Think how you'll drive 
the men wild.  I only wish I had your figure," she added, bowing 
her head in apparent embarrassment at her own more modest features. 
 
Ever proud of her breasts, Rachel relaxed at the compliment.  "It 
is airy," she murmured softly as she began to reach down to stroke 
her bare mound again.  Even after all the orgasms she had received, 
Victoria could see how aroused Rachel was wearing her slave 
shackles and dress.
 
"None of that," Victoria said playfully as she lightly slapped 
Rachel's hand away.  Rachel actually blushed and bowed her head 
before giving a subdued, "Yassa, Miss Victoria.  Ah be good."
 
To put it beyond doubt, Victoria fetched two sets of smaller slave 
shackles, which she locked around Rachel's wrists and then Sally 
Ann's.  Having an even shorter length of chain than their leg 
irons, it forced both girls to square their shoulders and hold 
their wrists together snugly behind their backs.
 
"And now," Victoria held up a slave muzzle.  Seeing the fresh alarm 
on Rachel's face, she reached her free hand down between the girl's 
legs.  Her fingers found her little bean in seconds.  "Don't you 
want to be a good slave girl for your mistress?  The mistress who 
let you play with yourself after you'd been paddled...the mistress 
who's been so good to you, giving you a nice dress when she could 
just as easily led you out of the hotel buck naked?"
 
"Oh, yassss, mistress," Rachel gasped as she felt Victoria's 
fingers stroking her bud.  The moment she opened her mouth, 
Victoria pressed the muzzle home. 
 
It was a simple device formed from metal shaped to conform to the 
lower face and nose of a woman.  On the inside of the muzzle, a 
flat, thin wedge of metal jutted out.  It was lined with small 
barbs.  Once the muzzle was in place, the wedge pressed down on 
Rachel's tongue...as did the barbs.  She could no longer talk, and, 
if she tried to fight the muzzle, she ran the risk of having her 
tongue cut to shreds by the sharp little barbs.  Two sets of straps 
(one around the back of the neck and the other up from the 
nose piece and over her head) locked it in place.

The metal muzzle moulded around the lower half of Rachel's face.  
It covered her mouth and nose, but with ample holes drilled in the 
muzzle, as well as an opening for her nostrils, there was no chance 
she would suffocate.  Water could even be sprinkled through the 
small holes if the slave needed it.
 
"Doesn't she look nice?" Victoria asked as she turned to deal with 
Sally Ann.  

Without out a word, Sally Ann opened her mouth and shuffled forward 
in her chains to receive her own muzzle.  From the way she clenched 
her thighs together afterward, Victoria was sure she knew what the 
girl would be doing if her hands were free.
 
She took a moment to examine both girls, now chained hand and foot, 
muzzled, and wearing the most outrageous of shave shifts.  Rachel's 
dress had actually given up the struggle and a tear was starting to 
form, opening a split between her generous breasts.  Through it, 
Victoria could see even more of Rachel's charms.  As the tear 
spread downward, it became clear that one good gust of wind might 
blow the two flaps apart, leaving her breasts completely exposed. 
Victoria looked at the clock again before she fixed the girls with 
a pleased, if not entirely pleasant smile.
 
"You know, in all the excitement, I plain forgot to introduce you 
to the other person involved in this section of the underground 
railway."   She moved to one of the doors that led to a side room. 
She opened it.  A tall man just entering his middle years was 
standing there resplendent in a fine white suit and waistcoat.  
"This is my husband, Judge Charles Cannon."
 
Judge Cannon gave Victoria a quick peck on the cheek, then extended 
his elbow to escort her back before the two now very surprised and 
frightened girls.  "Did they give you any trouble?" he inquired.
 
"Meek as lambs," Victoria answered.  Still holding on to her 
husband's arm, a man several years her senior, she gestured with 
her free hand for him to look at what she had brought him.
 
"Mighty fine specimens," the judge agreed, with the critical eye of 
a professional slaver.  "Particularly that one," he said nodding 
toward Rachel, who was pulling at her fetters in a vain attempt to 
get a hand free to cover herself.   With her hands locked behind 
her, there was no way for her to halt the slow disintegration of 
her dress.
 
"What do you think they'll fetch?" Victoria asked excitedly.
 
The judge patted her arm affectionately.  "Hard to say, dear.  If 
they're both pure, they'll be premium stock."  Then his lips parted 
in an amused grin.  "And from the show I saw from the keyhole, I 
reckon it might do no harm for us to have them put on a performance 
together before a select group of buyers before the auction.  Sure 
gets a man's blood all fired up seeing two slave girls playing with 
themselves like that.  Be sure to drive the bids up."
 
"Muususu" Rachel cried into her muzzle.  A quick grimace of pain 
flashed over what could be seen of her face as she felt the barbs 
cut her tongue.  Sally Ann had shuffled back to stand beside her.  
She was shaking her head, her eyes wide with alarm.  Clearly all 
was not as they had been informed.
 
Putting on a look of mock innocence, Victoria smiled at both now 
very frightened girls.  "Oh, you look surprised.  All that time in 
the North and you telling me how rich you were and how lucky a poor 
girl like me was to have you as friends.  Making sure everyone knew 
I was a charity case.  You wanting to know more and more about how 
the slave girls were put through their paces -- and all the time 
telling me how monstrous I was that I was not ashamed to be a 
southern girl."
 
She shook her head.  "Well, when I got home I eventually found 
myself a nice, fine husband in Charles.  He hates you stuck-up 
Yankees just as much as I do.  And then we heard about this 
underground railway stealing away good stock."  She clicked her 
tongue in disapproval.  "I got to thinking.  Whoever heard of a 
railway that only ran one way?  Train goes up and down the line," 
she said putting emphasis on "down."
 
Seeing their growing fear, Victoria chuckled as they tugged 
frantically at their chains.  "Oh we're involved in the 
underground railway, but just not in the direction you were 
expecting.  It also ships pretty fancy girls like you down 
south to the block where you belong.  And turns a nice profit, 
too."
 
She glanced at the window that showed the outside street.  "I'm 
surprised you didn't recognise your old classmate, Becky Tanner, 
on the way in."  She gave them a second to consider her words 
before giving them the hint.  "The nice fancy girl you so liked 
admiring.  She paid me a visit not two day ago."
 
"And a mighty fine piece she was, too," Judge Cannon chuckled.  
"Wiggled like an eel even with the bacon grease easing me into 
her rear." 
 
"Charles likes to test out the stock.  Now, don't you fret, you'll 
both go the block unspoiled.  But your rear holes'll be stretched 
some," Victoria told them with a malicious grin.

"'SOME'?" the judge guffawed.  "Don't tease, dear." 
 
Victoria smiled affectionately at him and then turned back to the 
cringing girls.  "We got a few things planned for you all for the 
next few weeks.  We got to raise your value a bit.  And then it's 
on to New Orleans and the block in the Rotunda.  I figure you'll 
fetch us quite a tidy sum."
 
"Time to get the stock settled in for the evening," the judge 
commented as he checked his pocket watch.  He blew a kiss back 
to Victoria.  "I won't be long.  What say we have an early night 
after we both share a bath?  You'll be wanting to wash off that 
slave stink." 
 
Chained wrist and ankle there was little the girls could do as he 
took hold of one in each arm and led them clinking in their 
shackles out of the hotel room to the overseers waiting for them 
in the street. 
 
Watching them go, Victoria grinned.  A nice hot bath and then 
Charles would be back.  After the arousal of seeing her two 
"friends" so easily enslaved, she knew neither she nor Charles 
would be getting much sleep that night.  And tomorrow she could 
hardly wait to see their reactions when their pretty little slave 
smocks were taken away from them, and they joined Becky bare naked 
in the slave coffle.  A few trips around the town to start with and 
then it was a three-day hard walk to Charles's cousin's plantation. 
With his crop of cotton coming in, he had agreed to rent any slave 
they could lay their hands on to help with the harvest.  Three days 
of exposure to the hot southern sun bare naked would darken them up 
nicely.  And of course the work in the fields, to say nothing of 
the march itself, would give them a chance to build up some hard 
callouses on both their hands and feet.  
 
Most of all she wanted to sit sipping mint tea on the veranda, cool 
in the shade, while the three girls toiled naked and sweating under 
the lash in the fields in front of her.  Every time they dared to 
look up from their labours they would see the girl they had 
belittled and spurned taking her ease.  That would be almost as 
much fun as seeing them mount the block itself.
 
Perhaps their families would try to track them down.  They might 
try to buy their freedom.  It occurred to Victoria that the rich 
Yankees might even pay her to try and find out what had happened.  
Of course if they did find the girls, things might get sticky.  
Still, if there was any trouble she could always bring up the 
"close friendship" that the girls shared.  Given the scandal that 
sort of behaviour might cause, there was even a chance that their 
families might prefer them to quietly disappear.  Either way, the 
next few weeks were going to be an eye-opener for the two girls who 
had been so anxious to find out how slaves were treated.  

Soon they would know all about it. 




Edited by C. Lakewood