~ Packing ~

You know, when we made these, I didn't expect to be wearing one.

What a slave is dressed in is determined by a few factors. What sort of work they do. Do they need protection from what they are working with? Will they be outside a lot? The season. How cold is it outside, and inside? Is it raining a lot? Social concerns. What is proper attire for a slave in a nice home? What sort of statement do you want to send about what you can afford? And finally how wise, caring, and cheap their master is.

You don't want your slave injured or ill, but you don't want to spend a lot of money on them. After all, that's the point of having a slave.

Taking our case as an example: Our intended jobs did not need much protection from what we were handling. In fact, clothing was a hindrance to our work. The weather was good this time of year, so even outside in the evening we didn't have any worry of catching cold. Slavers didn't need to make a social statement about their wealth. They were basically their own class in society that most people tried to ignore. This left two factors to determine our clothing, as we were told: social conventions, and decoration.

We didn't need to be decorated in transit, that would be up to our eventual owner to decide anyway, according to his tastes. So this left the simple fact that it was considered "mildly rude" to have your slaves running around in public completely exposed.

The results I was holding in my hands. About two yards of cotton and a soft rope.

I took a moment to inspect it, the cloth that is. Cotton, as I said. Soft enough not to be abrasive, but no more. The edges were folded over and stitched to prevent fraying and ripping. That last part is why they bothered to buy them from us, after all. They lasted a lot longer that way than a simple strip of cloth. One last detail we added: A diamond shaped cut that when folded over the rope, made a dip that the tail could go through. It let the rope ride more naturally.

Speaking of the stitching, from the way they lined up I'm almost certain my I made this one.

Oh, the irony.

I must say that it felt surprisingly good to wear anything. We had only been forced to remain undressed for less than a day, but... I felt it. Very acutely. Suddenly having my lap covered was a luxury I was thankful for. I wondered what else I was taking for granted.

Soon I decided dwelling on it was not such a good idea.

Our first labors as slaves provided a good distraction. There was a surprising amount to do to hurry the trip. Records needed sorting to make sure all the guild's sales records were in order to be turned in. Clothes needed packing, both theirs, and a great deal for the slaves they planned to acquire at the market. It ranged from simple loincloths to warm cloaks to wrap them in if the weather turned bad before we arrived. Food had to be stored properly for the trip. Spare collars, tools, restraints for less cooperative slaves, the list went on. We were never asked to do any real heavy work, just packing and carrying the lighter boxes, helping sort and find, that sort of thing.

It would not do to risk injuring a slave that's value was greatly invested in their looks. That is something I clung to deep inside. Not that I didn't have to do heavy work, but that I was valuable. It felt good, even if I felt guilty for thinking that way. You take your pride where you can find it.

Kaust fetched the supplies from the market. Food and what not. Thus we were to be spared facing the town collared, something I will always be grateful for. Not so much for the humiliation we were spared, but for that of our family and friends. I could not bare making them see us this way.

When it was time to start moving the packed supplies to the cart, we were given sandals to wear. It was explained, simply, that it would not do for our footpads to get toughened. It only took a moment for it to dawn on me why. In bed, every part of us should be soft. This brought to mind more vividly the fact that in no more than two weeks time the two of us would be in some stranger's bed.

My brother pressed up against my back and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight. I can only assume the same thoughts had come to him. I stroked his hands reassuringly for a minute before getting on with our work. Our new Masters said nothing of the delay.

Something else provided a growing distraction from my worries. I was not aware of it at first, but as I watched my brother stretch up to hand something to Kaust up on the carriage, I realized there was something very sensual about how the white cloth covered but a thin strip of him in front and back. Somehow his being almost nude rather than fully so was very arousing.

When he stepped down he caught my gaze, and gave me a puzzled look. I kept that eye contact until I was sure he was watching me as I did the same thing he had, handing light box up to Kaust, which he was too busy tyeing down to the roof of the carriage to notice the little drama unfold below him.

When I turned, his muzzle was a bit open in an "oh" of understanding at what I had been gawking at.

It turned out Radam was not so distracted.

"You two, stop staring at each other and get this thing loaded. You can gawk later."

Kaust looked over the edge of the carriage to see what was going on, and between their gazes... if it were possible I would just have melted into the dirt right there.

We hurriedly scampered inside to get back to it.

Oh, yes. "This thing". The carriage.

I had seen it before parked here when playing with Kaust when we were younger, but this was the first time I ever looked at it up close.

It was part carriage, part cart, part cage. It was longer than a standard carriage should be, and the front half of it looked more or less like you'd expect such a thing to be. However, the door was small, and only lead to a low small flat compartment. It served as a bed for one of the slavers to sleep while the other one drove, so that he could stay up at night to keep watch on the slaves in the evening. The rest of it was a cage. Tall enough to stand in, and covered on the top so that packages could be tied down on it. The door was in the back, and there was a little ramp that could be put down. It also had canvas tarps that could be rolled down to cover the sides.

The guild emblem on the side seemed somehow redundant. I mean, who else would own such a thing?

That would be our home, for nearly two weeks.