Marie's thighs and calves were sore and starting to shake, her knees shooting jolts of pain down to her ankles and up her back. She tried hard not to look up at the clock but failed. Two and a half hours already. She'd fallen over three times as the train went around curves at uneven speeds, always returning as close as she could to the exact same position. She was hungry, thirsty, and beginning to want another pipe.
Her mind was coming out of the opium haze and she tried to figure out what was going on. Why would John bring her to this room and then just leave her. It wasn't the first time he'd done something strange over the last 18 weeks, but this felt different. She couldn't think, the drugs had addled her brain. But something was different. Maybe it was the change from the intensity of the fucking in China, the opium-fueled gang bang sessions, the assumption that her mouth, cunt and ass would be stuffed with something 24 hours a day. And now, this. She was alone on her knees in a Pain Room on a moving train.
And the need for the poppy was getting stronger. It wasn't on her, but she felt it's presence.
The train slowed to a stop and she fell over as the couplings jerked against each other. She got back up and looked. Four hours and twenty minutes. Her legs were in agony now and she was crying. She wanted to lean back on her heels or even lay down but she knew better. Her stomach was starting to churn and she needed to pee. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, the last time she'd wanted to eat. But her throat was parched. After a few minutes, the train jerked and started moving again.
Marie heard the door behind her open. Then, muffled voices and 'oohs' and 'aahhs'. She didn't dare turn around to see who it was but felt their eyes on her. After a few moments, they started moving. A parade of a dozen men and women went by, looking down at her as they passed, then vanishing through the door at the far end of the car. One of the younger women touched her and she and her companion giggled.
Five hours into the ride, she couldn't take it anymore and settled back on her heels. Her elbows were sagging, head leaning forward, spine curling. She felt the dried tears down her cheeks and neck and started crying again. The pain in her bladder was intense now and she wondered how long she could resist the urge to wet the carpet.
The door opened again. This time, someone came up behind her and wrapped a blindfold around her eyes. Hands underneath her arms raised her to standing but she collapsed immediately. They lifted her up again, then a third time until she could stand on her own, gasping loudly and crying from the pain in her knees. The hands undressed her and then it was quiet for a long time. She stood naked with her arms at her sides, blindfolded and wondering. Was it one person? Maybe three: Gregor, Lora, and John? Or was a whole crowd standing staring at her - the white American whore who'd been fucking like an animal from Shanghai to Luzhi to Beijing?
Marie felt the cold edge of a metal bucket pressed between her thighs. Without any hesitation, she squatted slightly and released a powerful stream of piss. Realizing how easily she'd given in, she started to cry again, listening to the piss bubble, feeling drops of it splash back along the insides of her thighs. When she was done, she felt someone wipe her and whispered, "thank you." There was laughter in the room, many people. She felt herself sinking in shame.
She felt an iron collar wrapped around her neck and padlocked shut. It was heavy and cold and she leaned forward. Another was wrapped around her waist, then her wrists and ankles. She couldn't remember being manacled like this before. The iron was heavy and she felt humiliated for some reason. She recalled pictures of slaves on ships, brought from Africa or China or India. She wondered who was in the room, turning her into a caricature of that time? She heard chains rattling, then being pulled through rings in the manacles, ankle to ankle, neck to wrists, wrists to waist, until finally she couldn't tell where all they'd pulled the chains. But she knew they were heavy, very heavy, and she wouldn't be able to stand long weighted down like this.
Someone pulled her head back and she felt metal pressing against her septum. She jerked her head back then, scared, afraid they were going to pierce her like an animal. Several hands immediately grabbed her head and held her steady and the pressure was back. They didn't pierce her, but attached a spring-loaded nose-ring. The spring was powerful and the iron was heavy, she wondered if an actual piercing might be less painful.
Something was attached to each of her nipples, something that clamped slowly into place at the base of her big, dark nipples, smashing them hard, the nipple themselves protruding inches from her titties. She felt more chains now, lighter, connecting the nose-ring to the nipple clamps. Heavier chains went from the nipple clamps to her wrist shackles.
She tried to whisper "water" but her throat was too dry for even that. The pain in her stomach was strong now and she was starting to feel achey in her arms and legs. Someone's hand slid beneath the back of her iron belt and they began walking her from one end of the car to the other. The iron chafed her flesh and the weight of the chains made it hard to walk.
After three or four trips through the car, her leader pushed her to her knees. Marie heard the voice say "you drink". It was Mei, the one who'd done most of the pimping during their last trip. Mei pushed Marie'd head down. Marie felt her nose and lips touch water. A dog bowl! She pushed her face into the water and drank and drank. After that, Mei pushed her head sideways and she smelled something awful. She gagged and started to pull her head back but stopped. She knew the game. It was eat this or nothing. She held her breath and plunged into the bowl of whatever it was. It was hard to get down, she felt long, slimy bits and hard chunks and what must have been rotten vegetables. She told herself that as long as she held her breath, she could get through it, but when something she took into her mouth started moving, she puked it all back up.
Crying again, she lifted her head up and turned toward Mei's voice. "Yong? Yong? Fei?" she whispered. "You ask louder," Mei said, pulling her hair and turning her back toward the rest of the room. Marie repeated the words she'd learned to use when asking for the pipe. The crowd again laughed.
"No, my dear. No pipe for you." It was Gregor. He helped her to her feet, the weight of the chains making it difficult for her to get her balance. Gregor reached around and undid the blindfold. "No more pipe for you. You are going to get all cleaned up. Be a good American wife again." He turned to the crowd in the room. "Isn't that what you all want? A good American wife? Isn't that what you all came here to fuck?"
Marie did a quick count - twenty two, eighteen men and four women. Only about half of them Asian, the others Indian or Pakistani. All shabbily dressed, all staring and laughing.
"I tell you about chains now," Mei said in a tour-guide kind of voice. "Everyone Gregor bring on train have family who taken to America. Long time back, on big ships."
Gregor stepped forward and took Marie's chin in his hand, tilting her head back. She felt dizzy and nearly fell over. She was getting a headache.
"And I have invited them to have a little party with you. You will be the stand in for the American slave master."
"But, no, but, I…" Marie started blubbering but Gregor put his finger to her lips.
"Oh, nothing will happen for another day or so. You have something else to worry about right now." Marie stared at him, his big smile was terrifying. He motioned to the others and they filed out of the room, only Mei stood behind. She refilled the bowls, one with water and one with a foul mixture out of a one-quart bottle. Marie watched the surface of the bowl. Something was moving underneath the thick gruel. She gagged again.
Mei went to the far end of the car and settled onto a small pillow, curled up and went to sleep. Marie knelt back down and drank more of the water. Her stomach was in pain now and it wasn't because she was hungry. She felt her nose starting to run and the headache was getting worse. She sniffed hard but the trickle started again. She shuffled back to the middle of the car and laid on her side, trying to get comfortable. It was impossible. Between the belt around her waist and the collar around her neck, something was always digging into her.
She found the most comfortable position possible by half-leaning against the wall. Her legs were sore but she couldn't manage to keep them still. She tried to sleep but the headache prevented it.
Marie looked up at the clock. Six-thirty. Her body wouldn't stay still. She needed another bowl of opium, that would do it. Maybe she could entice Mei to bring her some. But Mei was asleep. If she woke her, she'd be angry. So, she waited. Six-forty. Six-fifty. Marie felt like she wanted to throw up, something was wrong. By seven, she was starting to sweat and the headache was throbbing. She squeezed her eyes shut, opened them as wide as she could, back and forth, trying to fight the pain. Then it stopped. But, her elbows and knees - all of her joints - were aching now. She shook her head. She'd have to wake Mei. Opium would help.