by S. J. Lewis
“I know,” Alexa grinned. “I'd just like to see how it looks from outside a cage.” She heard him chuckle as she went inside. She had, in fact, seen the slave market from outside of a cage, shortly after she'd first arrived here and she and the other three women in the competition were being shown around. However, once she'd been caught, she'd spent much more time here inside a cage, naked, with men and women always coming by to see what all the fuss had been about. It had actually become enjoyable after a while, being the focus of so much attention during the day. And at night, Will would come for her and take her to one or another of the maze of rooms here in the slave market, and she'd be the focus of his attention for the night. That had become far more than enjoyable as he'd taught her, trained her, and used her. She smiled to herself. Will was an endlessly inventive man, and she was sure that he had had more than a little to do with her winning the contest. She'd asked him about it directly, but he never gave her a clear answer.
The slave market was much as she remembered, with the same sweet-smelling hay strewn thickly over the old plank flooring, the same low stage off to one side where they held the auctions in the evenings, and the same double row of cages, six in each row, each cage just a bit too small for the average woman to stretch out in it, just a little too low to let her kneel upright. At least the thin pads that were given to each naked female provided a minimum of comfort. She saw that eight of the cages were occupied. She went over to the nearest row to have a look.
The season had just gotten into full swing here in Gordburg, and the females in the cages were all in their mid-twenties, blonde or brunette, slender or voluptuous, shy at being on display in front of strangers or taking the opportunity to flaunt their bodies shamelessly, perfectly safe in their cages from those same complete strangers. You could look at them, but you weren't allowed to try to touch or speak to them. They could look back, of course, and most of them did. One dark-eyed, dark-haired woman with caramel-colored skin and erect brown nipples stared intently at Alexa as she slowly passed by. Alexa noted that she wore no collar at all. That meant she would be 'sold' at a slave auction some evening. A leather collar usually meant that the female had an 'owner' or two and was here on display as part of her training. A chain collar usually meant that a female had put herself in the slave market, for training and eventual auction.
There were a few other women wandering through the slave market, but most of the patrons were men. Even with caged naked females to look at, most of them cast occasional glances at the women. One of them caught Alexa's eye and smiled at her. She smiled back. He didn't seem familiar to her, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen her caged up last year. He began walking over to her, and she stood her ground, curious to see what he might be like. He wasn't dressed like any of the slave market personnel. He was wearing jeans, but with a dark blue sports jacket over a white shirt that was only buttoned halfway up. He looked presentable enough. His hair was kind of a dishwater blonde, wavy, worn long and slicked back, and there was a two day's growth of darker beard on his rugged chin. She'd seen that style a few too many times, but he had nice dark eyes and she didn't see any hint of gold chains around his neck, so she let him come close.
“Hello,” he smiled and nodded. “I'm Carl.” He held out his hand.
“Alexa,” Alexa said, ignoring his hand. She waited for him to make the next move.
“Have you been here before?” he asked.
“Yes,” Alexa replied. “Just once. You?”
“This is my third visit,” he said. “I could show you around, if you like.”
It occurred to Alexa that pickup lines were pickup lines, no matter where they were uttered.
“Thanks,” she smiled sweetly. “But I'm afraid I'm meeting someone at the hotel in a little bit. Thanks anyway.”
To his credit, Carl took the rebuff well. He smiled, nodded, expressed polite regret and wandered off. Alexa didn't bother to watch him go. The jacket obscured her view of his butt too much to make it worth her while. Under other circumstances, she might have welcomed some male companionship, but she had plans and didn't want to be distracted. She left the slave market, nodding and smiling at the big man on duty as she passed by him, and proceeded up the street. She was feeling a bit hungry and thirsty after that long flight. There were good restaurants in the new part of town, and they all served at least beer, but Will had told her about a couple of places in the old part of town where the regular clients tended to hang out. As she reached the wide main street, she saw one of them on the opposite side. It looked like an old-time saloon, complete with swinging doors and a big sign over the covered plank walkway: 'The Nightingale'. She walked across to it and entered as if she belonged there. Inside, it looked just as Western as it had from the outside. The plank floor was strewn with sawdust, and the big main room was filled with round wooden tables circled by heavy wooden chairs. An ornate staircase leading to the upper floor was against the far wall, and directly in front of her was a long bar, manned by two burly bartenders in red shirts and white aprons. There were a couple of men standing at the bar, and several more sitting at some of the tables. Three of them were playing cards, but every male head turned to watch as Alexa went right up to the bar.
“Beer, please,” she said to the bartender who came over to her. “Make it a Tecumseh.” That was another bit of information Will had passed on to her one night. Gordburg had its own small brewery turning out limited quantities of three brands: Tecumseh, Hickock and Special Dark Ale. When the bartender brought her a foaming mug of golden-brown liquid, she thanked him, slapped a two-dollar bill down on the bar, and asked if she could get something to eat. She already knew that the menu was limited, so when the bartender asked if she wanted a burger or a hot dog, she promptly asked for a cheeseburger with fries. The bartender told her it would be out in a couple of minutes and told her to have a seat at any table she liked. She took her beer and sat down where she could see the whole room, and only then took a sip from her mug. It was everything Will had said it would be, rich and smooth. She took a bigger sip as she looked around. Most of the men had gone back to whatever they'd been doing, but a couple of them kept looking over in her direction. She nursed her beer and waited for her burger and for one of them to make a move.
The burger came first, delivered by a waitress dressed up like an old-time dance-hall girl. It was huge, dripping with cheese and sautéed onions, and between it and the fries there was enough to feed two very hungry people. It wasn't something that Alexa would normally eat, but the choices here were limited and she was expecting to work off all of those calories in the coming days anyway. She took a bite of the burger. Then another. Then another. Then, just for a change, she tried the fries. At that point, any thoughts she had of eating just half her lunch and asking for a take-out bag disappeared. The food was just too good, and it went so well with the beer that she decided that she'd have to finish it all right here. The only concession she made to her usual diet was no ketchup on the burger -- it didn't need it anyway – and no extra salt on the fries. She was just finishing up the last of it when one of the men in the saloon came over to her table.
“Afternoon, ma'am,” he said with a smile. “Mind if I sit down?”
He was older, somewhere in his mid-thirties, if she had to guess, tall and not bad-looking. Unlike Carl, he was clean-shaven, and his hair looked as if it had been cut just a little while ago by a Marine barber.
“Not at all,” she said with a smile. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured at the chair on the opposite side of the table from her. He ignored the suggestion and instead sat down in the chair next to her.
“Thank you,” he said. “Name's Mike. And you are?”
“Alexa. Alexa Marx,” Alexa responded. “What brings you all the way over to my table, Mike?”
“Wondering what brought you into the Nightingale,” Mike answered easily as he leaned back in his chair. He kept his eyes fixed on hers.
“A friend of mine told me about it,” sh
e replied. “I'm glad he did. It's everything he said it was.”
“Is your friend here with you?”
“No. He runs his own business and couldn't make it. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I've never seen you before, and when you came in you acted like you knew your way around. I'm curious is all. I'm guessing you've been to Gordburg before.”
“I have.” Alexa nodded and let it go at that.
“Planning on staying for a while?”
“Now why would you want to know that?”
“You interest me,” Mike said. “I like your hair, too.”
Alexa laughed and ran the palm of her hand over her hair. “Thank you,” she said. “I don't get many compliments like that.” She wondered if this man was being truthful about never seeing her before, and concluded that possibly he was. Whether he'd heard of her was another matter.
“What are your plans while you're here?” Mike pressed.
“Well, last time I just saw the town and the north side,” Alexa said with a shrug. “I thought maybe this time I'd see what the south side was like. I heard that there's a stagecoach.”
“There is,” Mike nodded. “It's not a very comfortable ride in places, though.”
“Then I guess I can walk,” Alexa said.
“I wouldn't recommend that,” Mike shook his head. “If you go outside the little towns you're fair game for any man or men who want to try and catch you.”
“Oh, I know that,” Alexa favored him with what she hoped was a dazzling smile. “It was the same way on the north side. But I'm not so easy to catch.”
“Really?” Mike seemed a bit more interested. “And why is that?”
“I'm in great shape, for one thing,” Alexa replied. “And my friend taught me a few tricks. I'll be all right, I think.”
“You look like you're in great shape, all right,” Mike nodded.
“And what about you?” Alexa countered.
“Me? I'm in good shape,” Mike answered.
“No, that's not what I meant,” Alexa shook her head. “I mean, why are you here?”
“I told you. I find you interesting.”
“That's still not what I meant,” Alexa said. “I mean, why are you in Gordburg at all?”
“Are you sure that you've been here before?”
“Oh, I get it,” Alexa grinned. “A dominant guy comes here because the place is full of attractive females who like submission. But do you come here just to gawk, or do you like to play?”
Mike sat upright. “I like to play,” he said. “Why? What's it to you?”
“Are you the kind of guy who buys a female in the slave market?” Alexa leaned forward. “Or do you prefer to track down your own, catch her all hot and sweaty after a long chase, and then subdue her, strip her and tie her up so you can take your own sweet time teaching her to submit?”
“You have been here before,” Mike grinned back at her. “Is that a question or a challenge?”
“Take it however you like,” Alexa replied. “I'm staying at the hotel. Come on by later and we'll have dinner. After that,” she shrugged. “Well, we'll see.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “Nice to meet you, Mike,” she said to him, holding out her hand.
He stood up and shook it, smiling. “Nice to meet you too, Alexa,” he said. “Lunch is on me.”
“Why, that's very kind of you, sir!”
“I figure it's only fair,” Mike said. “I figure you're paying for dinner, since you invited me. Which hotel are you staying at?”
“I'll leave that for you to find out,” Alexa replied as she started for the door. “Let's see how good a tracker you are.”
Chapter Two
The stagecoach lurched and wobbled along the dirt road, heading south from Gordburg towards the first little hamlet along the way. The place didn't have a name. Straps hung down on the inside of the coach for passengers to hang on to and Alexa clung to hers. They weren't traveling all that quickly, but someone had decided to make the stagecoach as authentic as possible, which meant that it had an authentic Nineteenth Century suspension. The seat cushions could have been padded a little more to compensate, but nobody had bothered with that.
“Rough ride, isn't it?” Mike smiled at her from the opposite seat. They were the only two passengers. That was understandable, since this was the first stage of the day and it left Gordburg so early in the morning that it was barely daylight. Alexa had taken it thinking that she might get enough of a head start on Mike to make it hard for him to catch up to her, but when she'd arrived at the station she'd found him already there and waiting for her. She had to admire his determination, but he was putting something of a crimp in her plans. Dinner with him last night had been fun. He was witty and well-traveled, wouldn't give her any more than hints about what he did for a living and was clearly interested in her. It was all very flattering to be the focus of his attention, but she was going to have to find a way to shake him before he messed up her plans. Last year, she had competed in that very unusual and challenging competition and beaten the three other women participating in it, all gorgeous professional athletes whom she had never beaten at anything before. It had come as a surprise to her when Will had told her that she'd also beaten the unofficial record of a mysterious young woman he called 'Elf-Girl' who had gone uncaptured longer than anyone before her. But she had not beaten the official record, and that's what really counted. Having finally beaten Martina, Lynette and Naomi at something, Alexa found it irksome that she was still only Number Two in the Gordburg record books, such as they were. Will had given her some training in outdoor survival in addition to all the other training he had given her in sexual submission. He had also given her a lot of information on Gordburg and how things worked there. Now she thought that she had a fair shot at beating the official record of that near-mythical 'Elf-Girl'. She did wish that she knew more about the woman, including how she had come by that nickname, but that was something she could leave for another day. She smiled across the narrow space at Mike, who was hanging on to his own strap.
“It's not so bad,” she replied. “And it'll be over in a little while anyway. You know, I was kind of surprised to see you waiting for me.”
“Why? I told you I found you interesting. I want to see what you're going to do. You haven't told me anything about that.”
“It isn't really any of your business,” Alexa replied without any attitude. “Besides, there's a lot about you that you haven't told me either.”
“Such as?”
She liked the way he looked at her. It was a mixture of curiosity and frankly carnal interest. She might be a personal trainer and sometime fitness model, but that didn't mean she had bulging muscles and washboard abs. She didn't have bulges: She had curves, a teensy bit more in her hips than she would have preferred, and a teensy bit less in her boobs than she would have liked. Her stomach was flat, and she had very nice legs. Mike had seen much of it all last night at dinner when she'd worn her daring long-skirted halter-top dress, the one slit all the way up to her hip on one side, and he'd been properly appreciative and attentive all the while. He wasn't seeing anywhere near as much this morning, since she was swaddled in bulky sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt, but she knew that while he was looking at her as she was now, he was remembering her as he'd seen her last night.
“Well,” she said after a pause, “you could at least tell me your last name.”
“You'll laugh.”
“No I won't.”
“All right,” Mike shifted in his seat. “It's Jackson.”
“Mike Jackson? As in Michael Jackson?” Alexa's smile widened, but she didn't laugh.
“Michael Andrew Jackson,” he said with a rueful grin. “I was named after my grandfathers. I had nothing to say about it.”
“It's not a bad name,” Alexa said. “I've heard worse.”
“You know, I've been thinking about you ever since last night,” Mike said, changing the subject. “I wanted to know more about yo
u, so after you left me at your hotel room door without even so much as a good-night kiss, I asked around a little.”
“I paid for dinner,” Alexa said, trying to change the subject herself. “If you'd paid for it you might have gotten that kiss.”
“Now, see, if you'd let me know that ahead of time I would have paid for it. I did pay for your lunch,” Mike countered. “At least I didn't order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
Alexa laughed.
“Aren't you going to ask me if I found out anything about you?” Mike asked.
Alexa's smile faded away. “Should I?” she asked. What had he found out? She couldn't bring herself to ask.
“Your choice,” Mike shrugged. “Let's just say I was interested in you from the start.”
“And now?”
“Now I want to find out what you're up to. The only way I can think of to do that is to follow along.”
“I didn't invite you along,” Alexa said.
“Try telling me to get lost, then.”
“I would, if I thought it would work,” Alexa retorted.
The stage rumbled into the first little unnamed hamlet and pulled up in front of the lone saloon, which was also unnamed. Mike started to get out, but stopped once he saw that Alexa wasn't moving.
“Going on to the next town?” he asked.
“No,” Alexa answered. “I'm getting out here. You go ahead. I'll be along in a moment.”
“You're not just telling me that to get me out of the stagecoach?” Mike sounded doubtful.
“Trust me,” Alexa favored him with her sweetest smile. “You'll want to see what comes next.”
He looked at her, shrugged, and got out of the coach. The moment he did, Alexa shucked off her sweatshirt and pants. Under it she wore her most comfortable jogging outfit, very short little shorts in vivid green and a belly-baring shirt in canary yellow. Last year, she had burdened herself with so much stuff that she'd had to stash most of it away in hiding places in the woods. This time around, she was traveling light.
