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Kate inhaled deeply feeling the breeze on her bare skin and knowing he was looking at her bare breast and then back to her face. ‘You are so beautiful’, he said in a whisper, ‘so very lovely.’ Kate saw a tear in his eyes and from that and his voice she knew he was overcome with emotion at her offering. Robert slowly leaned in to Kate’s upturned face and the kiss was soft and gentle and deep. She felt his hand touch her upper chest lightly and then like a feather float down to her breast. It should have tickled but it felt so good and her skin again broke out in goose bumps and she felt her nipples stiffen to an almost painful state. Kate leaned into the kiss and felt Robert’s large warm hand engulf her breast. As the deep kiss continued she felt his other hand slide under the shirt still hanging on half her body and cup the other breast. She shrugged and felt the cloth slip away and her upper body was naked and open to his hands. She began to unbutton his shirt as his hands gently. The car rumbled a thunderous sound across silent dunes and parches of cracked Earth. Echoing off distant pillars of paramount rocks and wind beat miniature mountains. Miles and miles of dirt grit and sand as far as the eye can see. Brown, dried and dead vegetation scattered in a peculiar pattern. Slightly, evenly spaced, possibly the exact distance needed to sustain vegetation with such a limited water supply. This dead brown color soaked into the landscape. Blending in the distance, into one solid dull, dry golden brown. Lynn licked her parched lips, as the Station grew closer. It looked like a small tin barn with signs from the distance. As the rustic old service station grew closer, she saw a soda machine out front. Like an oasis in the desert or a magnet to the metal of her car. She pulled into the Indian Reservation Station, directly in front of the soda machine. Lynn turned the car key off and the motor quit. She grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and with her other.
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The routine of a galley-slave was simple. Four hours on an oar, eight hours chained in the hold; back to the oar for another four hours, then back to the hold for a further eight hours. That was the twenty four hour cycle of their existence... and always they were under the threat of the whip. All the galley-slave Overseers were women Each had been specially selected for her height and strength. Some were six feet tall; more when they stood in the high-heeled calf-length boots they wore. They wore simple, short-length tunic dresses of black leather. There were three galley- slave Overseers to each ship and they did two four hour stints in the twenty four hours. Needless to say, those stints were far less arduous than those of the sweating slaves of whom they were in charge! In favourable winds, a square sail was raised which increased speed. But the rowing never ceased. As Princess Venetia’s Flagship, ‘Argos’, was heading west, the direction from which the prevailing wind came, the.

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