Free Enslaved by Colette Gale

of them was a fine specimen of masculinity. All were muscular and handsome, with clear eyes, thick hair, and powerful legs and arms. They carried themselves well, though most of them sported bruises or wounds of some nature. It was clear they’d each been physically subdued, but only after fighting back.
    She caught Holt looking at her, and she gave him a cold, lethal look that clearly denoted her disgust with him. He appeared miserable—but surely not as miserable as she. This mess was of his making, not hers—and yet here she was, imprisoned and enslaved with no release in sight…and aroused beyond belief. As if to punctuate this thought, her little pearl gave an insistent pulse that made Jane bite her lip in frustration.
    As she watched, the men were paraded past the dais, pausing so Zenovia could take a close look at each one.
    “It’s such a difficult decision,” said the chieftain. “They all seem as if they could perform accordingly, but I have no desire to determine their capabilities.” She gave a little shudder that appeared to be completely genuine. “Only five are needed to add to our breeding crew, and they must be excellent specimens of the male sex. We want only the best to continue our race. What do you think, slave?” She tugged on Jane’s leash. “How does one choose a man for breeding?”
    Pulled out of her frustrated, aroused haze, Jane blinked and discovered Zenovia was truly curious and seemed to want her response. Then, in the next instant, the full realization of the situation dawned on her.
    “Do you mean…you use the men to father children? On—with whom?”
    Zenovia laughed. “I see you are horrified, my little slave. But for what other reason do we require the male species here in Amazonia? We certainly are far from wanting or needing any males to tell us what to do, how to act, or what we can own—as is the case in your England, is it not? We are fully capable of doing everything necessary—including giving and receiving pleasure—except continuing our race. The breeding process is an undignified and unpleasant necessity, but a necessity nevertheless.”
    Jane pursed her lips, struck just for an instant about the truth of that matter—except, of course, for the part about the breeding process being unpleasant. But Zenovia was right—even in a queen-ruled England, men had all the power. Yet she knew firsthand how delightful pleasure could be with a man…and the depth of emotion and physical connection there could be when “breeding.”
    “And so, my little slave who has a mind of her own, I would very much like your opinions on the matter. How would you pick the five studs we will add to our breeding program for the next several years?”
    “But what happens to them after that? And surely…well, you must have more than five men, or there would be quite a lot of inbreeding.” Even as Jane spoke the words, she was aware of the utter absurdity of the situation—that she was actually discussing using free men as brood mares (or, more accurately, stallions), and that she was having the conversation with her mistress.
    “We have only room for five more studs in our stables at this time. Every year we retire some of them of them, or they become ill or injured or otherwise unacceptable breeding partners, and we replace them as needed.”
    “And what happens to the ones you—er—put out to pasture?” Jane couldn’t quite keep the horror from her voice.
    Zenovia shrugged. “They are put to work in the heather-hash fields and gold mines, as well as doing other menial labor.” Her eyes glinted as she saw the shock in Jane’s eyes. “The same will happen to the ones not chosen to be the five.”
    “I see.”
    “Now, I have asked for your opinion—something I do not do lightly, especially with a slave, and my patience begins to end.”
    Duly chastised, Jane turned her attention to the columns of men. Had they heard the conversation? Did they know what was to befall them?