(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/75/Matigroves125square.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Mati Groves</span></span><br/>Location: The Galaxy<br/>With: the three slaves on deck, then Dr Okanjo; his slave, Paulette Lisette saint-Simon; his friend, Kaelyn Richelieu; Kaelyn's slave, Tillie; Kaelyn's friend, Marie-Clare Lisson; Marie-Clare's slave and mother, Annalie Rachel Lisson.<br/><br/><br/>There were three of them, in this section of the deck.  They seemed to have been chained up, naked, and abandoned.  They weren't what he was looking for but with them he could feel something in him come back to life – something that he thought had died in him.<br/><br/>'Three bound slaves, three bound slaves,' he had them sing, to the tune of Three blind mice.  He had each of them sing in turn.  'See how they can't run, see how they can't run...'<br/><br/>Then he went back – almost bumping into a frightened-looking Chinese girl – for a bottle of champagne, to save himself the trouble of continually refilling his glass, and quickly returned to the deck.<br/><br/>He was drinking rather fast, and what with a little jet lag and the tiredness of an hour at the piano and when had he eaten last exactly? - the booze was going a little to his head.<br/><br/>The blond had a deep, croaky voice.  The brunette's was squeaky and high-pitched.  The black-haired one had the best voice, a contralto, but she seemed cowed, reluctant to sing.  He'd like to take off his belt and thrash it out of her – hell he hadn't beaten a woman in months – but he wasn't sure of the etiquette here.<br/><br/>So he tried to get the women to sing three-part harmony but it was hopeless, hopeless, 'They all listened out for their Master's voice...'<br/><br/>Songs about slavery.  That's what the world needed.  That's what Mati would provide.  If he could just find his own musician-slave.  Not trash like these abandoned three.<br/><br/>Out of a group of people who'd been half-watching Mati's antics, a woman emerged, a sweet, charming if authoritative young thing, inviting him to join them.<br/><br/>'Enchanté madame,' he said, and then the big man was introducing himself, and there was such a scattering of pretty female flesh around them it was hard to know where to begin to look.<br/><br/>'Ah yes,' said Mati, 'Barbarism begins at home, I was thinking of the lyrics, Unruly girls / Who will not settle down / They must be taken in hand / A crack on the head / Is what you get for not asking / And a crack on the head /Is what you get for asking...'<br/><br/>Okanjo - was that his name? - Okanjo seemed to be offering the slave that Mati had felt his eyes drawn to: the blond one who wouldn't look up, in the sexy see-through top, on her hands and knees.<br/><br/>'Sing, cunt, and sing well or I'll beat you with a cane when we get home,' Okanjo was saying.<br/><br/>Mati felt a surge of pleasure and power, at suddenly being welcomed and invited to join the group.  'Tell you what,' he said, 'why don't I take her to the piano and see if she knows a couple of numbers.'  He waited until Okanjo offered the leash, with another invocation to his cunt to sing well.<br/><br/>'Can you sing a note, sweetheart?' Mati asked as they walked past others to the piano.  God, it felt good to be tugging a slave on her hands and knees again.  He felt another surge. 'Let's start with something you might know.<em>You really got a hold on me.</em>This key all right?'<br/><br/>Finally she lifted her head.  Hell: he believed he knew who she was.  And if he was right, she certainly could sing. 'Eight-bar intro,' he said, 'head up, I'll do the harmony...'