Red Feline watched from her elevated dimension as her body moves along the wooden floor, as slow as a turtle, but with the movements of a dancing snake. Her view of her own body gave her a strange sensation. She felt like a cat ready to jump on a prey, but she saw that she was moving like a snail, following the breeze that came from the entrance, while all along, the nail in her back quivered with every push of her arms or legs.

The pain followed her intensely but she felt must reach the door. Was the quest worth the price of pain? Maybe the door was open and she could get out.

Maybe she wasn't trapped after all, maybe when she reached the door she'd wake up and find herself in the room where she first started.

Or maybe she'd find herself in another dimension, the one back in time.

Piroska was dragged kicking and screaming to the slave's quarters where she was tied to a pillar in the center of the large chamber. A group of women gathered around to watch. It was the first time in a long while that one of them was going to be punished. What was surprising was that it was the new girl, the redhead that came into their lives, the one slated to be the favorite.

The man in charge of punishments was also a slave, from a different province. He was not a cruel man, he followed orders and tried his best not to make the punishment too harsh.

Piroska stood against the pillar, her hands above her head, tied together with a rope that was attached to a ring on the pillar.

This was the place where most simple punishments of the household slaves were carried out, always in front of the other women, and never as harsh as those punishments that were reserved for more serious crimes.

The images of the place where Piroska was taken were not the most frequent Red Feline used during her fantasies, but it was one that appeared early. It was pleasant somehow. Even romantic. The cold pillar in the middle of the room was always made of marble, the ring attached to the top was golden and the ropes that were always there, waiting for their captives, were soft, not the harsh ropes she experienced in later, more cruel occasions.

The pleasant sensation of that early fantasy, helped her to move faster, she weaved her way to the door, inch by inch, she felt her sweat wetting the floor, or maybe it was blood.

From her elevated view she could see that her wound was bleeding at times, but her whip-carved back was almost dry, no longer bleeding, although at times, as she moved, she felt the wounds opening, stinging, as if she was lashed again.

But in her mind Piroska was about to be lashed by orders of the governor.

One older slave woman carefully stripped Piroska of the garments she was wearing. The rebel didn't react against the woman who she knew from her training days. "I'm sorry, I was ordered to do this.", the older woman told her as she removed the fine clothes, leaving her naked.

Piroska had never experienced the shame of being naked in front of a crowd. It was also the first time in her life that she was going to be beaten. As she grew, she saw many times how some of the slave women were punished for all sorts of transgressions. But after the initial years, when they were first taken into captivity, a few rebels suffered a cruel fate, no one had been really punished in a long time, no one she knew. That's why she didn't know what to expect.

The soldiers told the man in charge of whipping that the governor said not to break her skin. "Not to worry.", he replied,"I never do, that's not what we do here...the usual 20 lashes yes?".

The soldiers didn't have to respond. It was the normal punishment for the young slaves who served the governor. Sometimes he had them punished just to keep them on their toes, on a whim. The man took the lash with thick straps and approached Piroska.

Red Feline was getting closer to the entrance. It was just a room and not a very large one, and even if it felt like she was dragging herself for miles, she had only moved a few meters. The gate to freedom was at hand, she was making it, she was at once excited and anxious, but doubtful as well.

Her body was pushing her to escape while her mind was wondering why would she wanted to stop now. If this was a dream, a vivid dream, wasn't it worth it to see it to the end?

He body disagreed. She was not willing to continue the suffering, no matter how enticing it may appear to be. This was real and she was not about to let herself be tortured to death. She knew that there was only one way to end her ordeals if she continued.

With renewed strength, she pushed herself a few more inches closer to the door.