The captives were thrown into cells, four each, and the doors slammed shut. When the last cell was locked and all secured, the Tal Harra Shaden, the clan leader, came to examine the catch. Still dressed in black battle armor and carrying his helmet in his hand, he walked slowly down the row of cells, looking over the prizes he and his men had won that night. Each of these Wolfhome women were beautiful, he thought, as he gazed upon their incredibly perfect forms. All were woman, all were far larger than any from his home world, indeed, many were as tall as his men, and all were far more beautiful than even the wildest rumors had spoken of. They glared back at him with defiance in their eyes, these haughty and proud women. But they would learn, he told himself, they will learn their proper places. Behind the steel cell doors, each woman was doubly secured for she still wore the capture shackles: a wrist binder and a pair of leg irons. The wrist binders were rectangular blocks of metal with holes. The ends hinged open to allow the binders to be put around a wrist, then swung shut and locked in place. As each side of the binder closed, the inner part of the circle expanded in until it was pressing tight against the captive's flesh. Once locked on, the binders did not allow any movement by the wrists and could not be forced off. Each of the women had her wrists firmly held only two inches apart behind her back.
The leg irons were much like the ancient earth handcuffs but a little larger. The cuffs at each end of a very short chain were made of two semi-circles and hinged to close around the ankles. When locked on, the woman could only take hobbled steps for slow walking, and running was impossible.
Tal Harra Shaden was proud for this lot would make fine slavegirls-when properly trained. These off-world women were far more beautiful and sensuous creatures than any born of his world, and they would bring much wealth and fame to him. And perhaps he would even keep one of them. That tall one there, the one who seemed to be ignoring both her surrounds and the discomfort of her shackles might make a nice slave. He could imagine her cringing before his whip as he trained her, then the exciting nights when she would be eager to demonstrate her sexual skills for her Master. The male weapon between his legs ached to prove itself in the ravishment of that beautiful and haughty one. He would drive her crazy with pleasure as he pounded her body with his masterful thrusts until she was whimpering and begging him to cease because she could no longer stand it. Then he would ravish her more until she passed out from the ecstasy.
And it had been so easy to capture these lovely creatures. He relived the raid only a few hours passed in his mind.
They came out of the inky darkness between the stars to descend upon an unsuspecting people. Their ship was black as coal, shaped like a grotesque bird of prey with outstretched wings and ebony steel talons. In the dark hours before dawn, they swiftly swooped down from the star-speckled heavens upon the sleeping building below to bring death and worse.
It was over almost before those inhabitants of the wooden hunting lodge realized they were being attacked. Silently the ships landed in the clearing, and silently it disgorged its cargo of death-dealing warriors. The sentries, only two for this was only a hunting lodge far from the borders, were quickly overcome and their death cries the first alert for those sleeping within.
Most of those were Wolfhome female warriors, proud and fierce fighting women who slept with their weapons beside their pillows. They had leapt to their feet in an instant, but swords and lances were of little use against blasters and stunners. A full dozen of the amazonian female warriors fell defending their Princess, who was herself finally laid low by the hazy purple light of a stunner.
Quickly the black raiders rushed to each fallen woman to lock her wrists behind her with binders and to add leg irons to their ankles. Then they moved on until the whole building was secured. The few pitifully small and weak males they found, they dispatched with ease, brutality, and disdain. None had even reached for a sword although there were many weapons around. Surely they did not deserve to mate with such magnificent women!
Some of the female warriors were carried unconscious to be dumped upon the bare earth beside the hulking darkness of the spacecraft, others regained their senses and were marched out at blaster and sword point to stand in the cool night air. Since most were sleeping, and since all were warrior women, they had no need of bedclothes and all had launched themselves into battle fully naked. Suddenly a bright light sprang into life from the black shape over them, illuminating the fresh captives with a harshness that made them blink.
Around them stood a loose circle of man shaped figures in dull black, light absorbing armor. Each held a blaster rifle and had a stunner holstered at his waist. The face of each was hidden totally by the head armor, turning them into impersonal and sinister creatures.
The women were marched aboard the ship, led to a row of cells awaiting them, and locked in. Then the ship lifted silently into the night sky, still not tinted with the light of dawn, and sped off. Once clear of the atmosphere, there was the white flash of a starship jumping and all was again quiet in that portion of the forest world.
CHAPTER TWO
An Adjuster and His Clients
I was visiting the museum on Katanga III once and saw an ancient video shot on Earth about eighteen hundred years ago. They called them "'movies" back then, for some reason no one remembers now. In that movie, there was a man who made his living being what was called a "private eye." Their customs and language were strange but apparently these private eyes all spent their time sitting around dusty offices, drinking whiskey, smoking numerous cigarettes, and waiting for a gorgeous blonde to walk in and give them a case. A case of what wasn't clear, but the beautiful women always wanted something from the private eye. There usually followed his trying to find something or someone, several shootings, his being beaten up, and finally his turning that gorgeous woman over to the police because she was the one who shot her husband after all.
While I've collected every old "movie" I could get my hands on, but I don't profess to understand them all. Still that original movie stuck in my mind because his job reminded me of mine. Only I'm called an adjuster, not a private eye, or any other part of the body.
I have a dusty office. Well, it's hard to keep anything clean on Cetious IV, those damned winds are always blow up from the desert every afternoon. But I don't drink whiskey. Genuine, Earth made whiskey is a rarity this far out on the rim of the galaxy and would cost more than I'm worth even if I could find a place to buy it. And as for sucking the smoke from burning weeds into my lungs-forget it! They must have been crazy back then. It's a wonder man ever lasted long enough to discover star-drive and conquer the galaxy.
Well, he didn't exactly conquer the whole galaxy but damn near. There's some areas not worth mankind's march across the stars, like those damned globular cluster in the halo around the galaxy-just too far out to be worth much. But for a short, glorious time mankind ruled the stars. Colonies were started on any world that might support human life. Huge ships jumped between the stars, bringing trade, more colonists, and the iron-fisted rule of Imperial Earth.
Of course it couldn't last. There's a law the polisci's have that no one government can survive when it gets beyond a certain size. And a government that tried to rule the entire galaxy was awfully big. Well, the doomsayers were right. The colonies rebelled against Earth, battles were fought all over the galaxy. When the Imperial forces were beaten back to a few hundred stars around Terra, the other worlds turned on each other, trying to carve out their own little empires. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know from history lessons.
But this does explain why the galaxy is in the terrible condition it is now. A hundred thousand different worlds, all coming originally from the human home world, and all refusing to cooperate with anyone else. It's anarchy out here, I tell you. And I know, I've traveled around some.
Humans haven't changed much physically, but they sure have taken on some funny types of governments and customs. One planet might be run by religious fanatics who's full time occupation is trying to find God in their meditations, while one star over you'll find a whole planet of warriors trying to figure out how to get enough ships together to invade the meditators and anyone else they can get their hands on.
Worlds still trade because they need what is grown or made on other planets. That's why there are trade worlds, like this damned hunk of dirt called Cetious IV, mixing grounds for hundreds of cultures and dozens of species. Which is why I'm here. When dozens and hundreds of different people mix, there's bound to be trouble. And I make my living off other people's troubles.
As I said, I'm an adjuster. Name's Talon O'Connor. There ain't much law here, and what there is concerns itself mostly with collecting port fees and bribes. They let the crowds work out there own problems. But in a universe where brute force and a quick blaster make the rules, there are plenty of people who will pay to have their problems solved for them. I adjust things so they're the way my clients want. That's why we're called adjusters.
But I was talking about that private eye and myself. The other thing we had in common was that we spent a lot of time sitting around waiting for a client. If she was a tall blonde with long legs and curves all over the place, that would be great. But I ain't seen too many of those come into my place. I'm usually glad to see anything on two legs with money in it's hand. And I ain't fussy if it's got more than two legs.
All of which leads up to early one afternoon while I was sitting around waiting for the winds to start up. It was funny that I was thinking about that first detective movie when this gorgeous dame walks in. Well, three gorgeous dames, and they were all tall, long-legged, and built like brick shit houses. (Old expression, I don't know what it means, either). They had long, shinny black hair and the loveliest violet eyes. They also each had a blaster holstered on one hip and a sword hanging from the other. They wore leather body armor, helmets of polished silver, exposed legs from the tops of their knee-high boots to just short of a very interesting place, and a frown on their faces like I was something crawled out from under a rock and they would have preferred to stomp on me than talk to me. Or on any man who gets in their way. Some worlds are like that: the gals are twice the size of the men and four times as mean as a Rorret Devil Wolf.
I considered rising from my seat but didn't want to emphasize the fact that each of them was half a head taller than my own six foot. So I stayed sitting and was trying to think of a good greeting when the lead one, the one resting a hand lightly on the butt of her blaster, addressed me.
"You an adjuster?"
"Right as rain, babe," I replied. I'm just full of ancient expressions, most of which don't make much sense. Why is rain right? "My name's Talon O'Connor. Why do you need an adjuster?"
I believe in getting right to the point, and these babes looked like they might begin to tear my humble little office apart if I didn't. Then they would start in on me.
"We're from Wolfhome-Gamma Hydra 451, planet III. We require help in finding Princess Adrianne. She's been kidnapped."
"Perhaps I can help. Won't you girls sit down and tell me the story?"
The talkative one did sit in the chair I indicated but the other two kept standing. I noticed that they kept an eye on the door, the windows, and me. They were watching their backs, I knew the signs. I've had to do it enough myself.
"My name is Thala. These are Rhonda and Fauna. Our Princess Adrianne was kidnapped two months ago from Wolfhome. A black ship came from space and landed near the royal hunting lodge. Then black dressed warriors came out and raided the lodge. They killed all the men and some of the guards. Then they took away the Princess."
"Kidnapping often is for ransom. Have you heard anything from anyone asking for money?"
As she talked her knees parted slightly. In the dim area between her legs, I could swear that she wore no underwear. I also tried not to let her see where I was looking. With some of these sword-totting, female warrior races, a guy could get killed doing things like that.
"This was not for ransom. Our world has little to offer an outsider. Our treasures are the wild plains, the thick forests and the open seas. Off-worlders cannot carry away those things. The only thing we have that off-worlders prize are a few, rare gems. No, man, there has been and will be no ransom asked. We fear that the Princess was taken by slavers."
I frowned. This was not good. There's those who will steal anything of value. And one thing that is of great value to many races is slaves. The taking of humans by other humans goes back, I understand, to thousands of years before the first starship. And there's various reasons. Sometimes it's for labor, doing dangerous jobs for some race that doesn't want to do them themselves. And there are humans who prize owning other humans as pets, and, yes, I do mean sexual pets. Keeping a beautiful woman as a slave is an old Earth custom suppressed about the time man was beginning space flight, but that now flourishes out among the stars. On a few of the worlds I'd visited, I have seen slavegirls, often wearing chains either symbolic of their captivity, or very, very real. There are even worlds where the women rule and men are made slaves of.
These women were probably right, their Princess was most likely taken to be someone's slavegirl. Thala's knees parted a bit more and I had confirmation that she wore nothing to protect her secret place. I tried not to stare.
"A black ship and black dressed men? That doesn't give me much to go on," I said. "Within a couple hundred light years there's probably a hundred races who might kidnap women slaves."
The leader stood to her full height. "We must have the Princess back. We are warriors," she said, patting her sword to emphasize the statement. "We have sworn to find the Princess and bring her back." Her eyes turned a little harder. "Or die in the attempt."
"Well, I didn't say it was impossible," I backtracked. "Just that you haven't given me much to go on."
"If you cannot help us, then tell us where we can find a someone who can."
"Well, now...." I fought for time to think. Was it worth taking their troubles on? I was also furiously trying to think of what resources I could count on to help find one set of slavers among a great many. But this girl wasn't having any of my stalling.
"Either help us or tell us who can," she repeated, more firmly this time. Her hand was curling fingers around the hilt of her sword. I could see the headlines on the evening news: "Famous Adjuster Found Hacked to Pieces. Gruesome Video at Eleven."
"If anyone can find her, I can," I said with more bravado than I really felt. "Let's talk terms."
I learned early on to always make the client think you know everything, everyone and have been everywhere. If they're not confident in your abilities, they'll take their money elsewhere. The gorgeous raven-haired girl calmed down. She took a pouch off her belt and opened it, pouring into her hand a dozen Flame Gems. I sucked in breath at the sight of that many. Each caught the light and positively glowed with thousands of tiny, dancing points of light that moved like living things inside the crystal. Most of them were blue-white with touches of swirling rainbows. But there were a couple of the very rare violet Flames. It was hard to tear my eyes away from them.
"You get those from your home world?" I stammered.
She quickly tossed one of the blue-white stones my way and the rest disappeared back into the leather pouch. I caught it in mid-air and tried to pretend that it wasn't worth more than I had made in the last five years. Make that ten years. "There will be more when you recover the Princess," she said.
"Okay," I mouthed another one of those ancient expressions that don't make much sense. "I'll need to talk with a few people. Then we'll go to your home world. Do you have a ship?"
"We have no ship. A trader sold us passage here. He said this was the best place to find help. And why do you need to go to Wolfhome? The Princess is not there."
"Star ships differ. Perhaps I can get some readings to help identify what type of drive it used. Or some other clues that may help us identify their world."
"That makes sense. Do you have a ship?"
"No, but I know where we can charter one." The air in the room seemed to thicken a bit while becoming very still. Then it shifted uneasily back and forth before beginning to lean towards the west. The afternoon winds were starting.
"I'll check around and see if anyone knows of a slaver band using black ships and black armor. Then I'll arrange for ship."
"We will go with you," Thala said firmly.
"Some of the people I have to talk to won't talk if there's stranger present," I said, equally firmly. As is often necessary in my profession, it was a lie. Truth is I had no idea how to go about checking on slavers. But I might be able to find someone who knows something, and was buying time. "Let's meet at The Horny Wombat at 1700 hours. Then you can come with me to charter a ship. Okay?"
"The Horny Wombat?"
"The tavern across the street. See? I'll meet you there."
I considered advising them to not talk to strangers but figured if any man mistakes them for prostitutes, it would be his hard luck.
The girls left and I had a nice view of legs and firm bottoms under leather as they walked out the door. The winds were picking up, so I touched the computer keyboard to order the window shutters down. The light came on automatically. I tossed up the Flame Gem and watched the colors twirl and flash. Beautiful. Then I held it up between to finger and thumb and stared into it. The swirling colors seemed to pull at me. It was hard to break away from the gem's captivation. I could see why those stones brought such high prices.
During the next four hours I sold the gem (hated that part but an adjuster needs working capital and my bank account was lower than a slime worm's belly), made arrangements to be gone for a while and even paid some of my old debts. Not all, just enough to keep people from hiring other adjusters to break my legs and other important parts. Then I wandered down to Carlo's. Talked with a Vegan there who usually knows everything that is happen out here on the nm. Not much help. Lot's of slaver worlds but none that used black armor. Finally I pushed my way through the gusts and flying sand back to The Horny Wombat. Wished I had something good to tell the girls.
There were twenty-nine captive females taken in the raid. Tal Harra Shaden had inspected each one personally.
All were of finer stock than had ever passed through the slave pens of Kronos. He licked his lips at the thought of so much money. And the thought of how much fun training them would be.
The finest one had been brought into the training room and prepared for her first lesson. The training room would have been called a dungeon or torture chamber in most cultures for its purpose was the infliction of pain upon helpless females. Pain is, after all, a universally accepted form of training. Hurt strong enough and for long enough, and you'll do anything to get the pain to stop. The training room held several whipping posts, two sets of stocks, a dozen different pulleys and ring arrangements by which a female body might be spread, suspended, stretched and/or held down in most any position the human mind could come up with.
A brazier burned happily in one corner, next to a collection of branding irons hanging on the wall. A series of torches gave light enough to work by but left a threatening darkness in the corners. Ropes, chains and whips could be seen dimly hanging from pegs on the walls. In one corner there was a round hole in the floor. A pulley directly over it suggested that a girl could be lowered downward. But what was down in the darkness could not be seen.
Tal Harra Shaden picked a whip from the wall, a medium whip of braided black leather with a single wicked thong at the end. It would mark up a woman's body and cause much pain but probably not cut the skin. When used in a knowledgeable hand, it could cause a lot of pain with little damage.
The woman had been made ready for him. He turned to the middle of the training room and felt a stirring within his loins at the sight of such a gorgeous creature strung up for punishment. No part of her touched either floor or walls. Rope had been looped around each wrist, pulling her arms high, wide and taunt as she stood there. Another rope was around each ankle and pulled until her legs widened, then the feet lifted from the stone floor. With the tying of knots to rings in the wall and on a column, the slavegirl was held suspended in air in a painful spread-eagle. When Shaden approached her, she had already been suspended thus for an hour. Her head was bowed and long black hair hung down to cover her breasts and reach nearly to the patch of shinning black curls between her legs.
For long minutes he circled the bound woman, enjoying the heavy breasts, the full but firm bottom and those lovely legs. This was a woman such as he had never before seen, a virtual goddess, enough woman to make any man ache with desire. It would have been tempting to tear off his pants and shove his rod up into that inviting pussy. She was bound at a good height for such a ravishment and this would not be the first time he had taken a woman in this manner. All females on his world were treated as slavegirls, to be owned and used by males as they wished. But never had he screwed a woman such as this in any position.
Still, there was the training. And a wicked smile crept onto his face at the thought of sex with her after her body bore fresh whipmarks placed there by his own hand. It would be more fun to ravish her while she cried cried fresh tears from the pain he had given.
The first slash of the whip across a taunt bottom brought a gasp of pain and the jerking up of the head. Her hair flew wildly as she shook her head, and a red line was immediately forming across one cheek.
The woman glared at her tormentor. But she held her tongue until she could speak not with anger but none the less demanding. "I am a Princess. A Princess is not treated like this."
"A slavegirl is," he said cheerfully. This was going to be fun. He would stretch out her training so to enjoy it more.
"I am not a slavegirl. If you will return me to my Wolfhome, you will be paid well."
"I'll be paid well when I sell you," he countered with a smile. "And I'll have the fun of training you."
The beautiful face looked into his eyes and saw within the truth. Here was a man who loved to hurt women. Princess Adrianne had not run into to such before, all men on her world being wimps, but she instinctively knew. This man was use to controlling women and hurting them. She fought to keep her courage up.
"I am a warrior of the People. I am a Princess. You may hurt my body but you will never break my will."
He laughed loudly. "Brave words! But we shall see." He accented his point with a second cut across the other cheek. Her body jerked and she sucked in air but did not cry out. He laughed again. "It will be most enjoyable training you. And what a slavegirl you will make!"
Over her shoulder, Princess Adrianne spat at his face. She missed and he laughed again, apparently amused rather than angered. Then he began covering her bottom with criss-cross lines, each bringing a fresh burst of pain. Eventually she did scream as the fresh cuts crossed over older ones. But it had taken far more to make her acknowledge the pain with a cry of agony than with any woman he had ever trained.
When her bottom was covered with welts and discolored, and she was no longer able to hold in the cries of anguish, he turned the whip to the backs of her thighs, fresh flesh for it to kiss.
A dozen strokes across the soft flesh back there below her ass, each leg receiving an equal amount, and he came around to stand before her. She was still defiant but he could see the beginning of fear in her eyes as she saw where he was looking. He laughed happily and cut the front of her right thigh. A dozen strokes marked each thigh before he quit that area. She was crying out loudly with each stroke across virgin skin now.
The proud Princess was whimpering softly with head bowed when he put away the whip and picked up a small leather belt. He doubled it over in his strong hand and came back to his prisoner. "This is going to hurt you more than me," he told her. There was no reaction but a few seconds later she knew what he meant when the belt came up to impact hard directly between her legs.
The scream was most satisfying to this male tormentor, indeed, pure music to his ears. He tossed aside the belt and unbuttoned his pants. Quickly, while she was still feeling the pain burning brightly between her legs and gasping, he positioned himself next before her and spread open the entrance to her sheath. A second later he was ramming his rod into her sex, a hard drive that sank it deeply into the fear-lubricated tunnel. She cried out with both pain and anger but could do nothing to stop this ravishment of her body.
Her feet and hands fluttered helplessly as he pumped away, the tight ropes digging cruelly into wrists and ankles. She cried and those tears fell to wet her breasts, some even touched his chest.
His climax was sudden and intense. With a cry of pleasure, he held her waist tightly in his hands as he buried himself as deeply as possible into her and shot his load inside a Princess.
Mixed with his cry of ecstasy was a lesser wail of mixed anguish and pleasure from the naked and bound woman. For this haughty Princess had just experienced the most intense orgasm of her young life and was humiliated beyond her ability to believe.
Meanwhile....
The three girls were there, sitting at a booth in the rear so that their backs were against the wall and they could watch both the door and the bar. From the nervous glances cast their direction by some of the regulars, I guessed that someone had tried to hit on them and failed miserably.
I joined them. Reggie came over. For a Denebian, he's not a bad sort, but the perpetual frown they all wear isn't really good on a tavern owner. And the look he gave me suggested he was extra unhappy that I had caused such dangerous creatures to come into his tavern. "I'll have a beer. Any trouble?"
Reggie already had a bottle of my usual beer, Altair Red, on a tray. His frown deepened into a scowl. "Fal Winder will be walking funny for a week," he grumbled.
Didn't bother me much. Fal was an asshole anyway.
"What news?" asked Thala immediate upon Reggie's departure, before I could finish the first sip. Altair Red is strong and can't be gulped down like just any beer. Then I noticed that each girl had a tankard in front of her and there was a large bottle of Romulan Stout on the table. It was empty. Romulan Stout, they say, is about the only thing stronger than Altair Red and must be served in acid-proof containers. Or so the Romulans claim.
"I heard a few things," I lied. "Let's get some food and then see about charting a ship."
The three of them got to their feet and walked out without the slightest wobble between them. I hurried to follow, carrying my Red by the bottle neck. As I walked by Reggie I asked if they drank that whole bottle of Romulan Stout. He nodded in his sad way, added that they also drank the two bottles before it, and I had to whistle. And make a note not to get into a drinking contest with them.
Normally I would have eaten at Droopy Dan's where they serve what is traditionally called Chinese food, and that is rumored to have began back on Earth centuries before starflight. Whether that is true of not I can't say, but I do know I like it. But since my clients were paying, we went to the Event Horizon, which is has food almost as good as it is expensive, and where they put away some large portions of Denebian Steer and more Romulan Stout. My respect for them went up another notch.
Then we went to the Ancient Rocket to see about finding a ship. Now the Ancient Rocket is not a fancy tavern but the drinks aren't too watered down and most of the pilots and ship owners come there regularly. It's sort of an unofficial clearing house for starships for hire. We walked in under the bright red neon sign showing a pointed tube with fire coming out of one end, and I had to explain to Thala that a rocket was a primitive form of space ship used before star drive was invented. She didn't believe it, either. Who is his right mind would sit on top of a burning cylinder while it blasts you by brute force free of a planet's gravity well?
The place was almost filled, and almost every male eye in the place turned our direction. I could see varying degrees of impact as three pairs of Amazonian breasts, three pairs of long legs, and a trio of gorgeous faces registered on three or four dozen male nervous systems. A couple of guys in the corner turned back to their drinks with disgust on their faces. But they had eyes only for each other. The rest leered, gulped or let their jaws hang open. I had to admit that theses girls did make quite a show, what with legs mostly bare and the way the tops of those full breasts showed under the leather. Didn't make me feel too bad, having them come in with me. Let those old space rats conjure up whatever images their sex-starved minds would.
Meanwhile, I searched for a good pilot with a reliable ship.
Lenard Wilks was sitting in a corner, sipping that awful purple stuffs he gets from the Triad System and looking every bit as ragged and despicable as always. Anyone I ever asked told me that Willie had been one of the old timers when they got here, and he looked it. Sloppy gray hair fell to his shoulders framing a face that could stop a Wilderbeast in dead charge. This dude was ugly. But he owned one of the best ships on the rim and could fly it through a supernova-a good man and ship when you needed one. I told the girls to stay put and wander casually over to his table.
"Wilks, you old fart," I greeted him. He looked dully at me then at the Amazons and grinned. Then he went back to his drink. "Wilks, I need to charter your ship."
He looked at the gorgeous trio who were staring at us and frowned. "You starting a traveling whorehouse?" he asked. He squinted in the poor light. "Those are costumes, ain't they? Those swords ain't real, is they?"
I sat down and tried to stay upwind of his breath. "They're clients. No, really! I am an adjuster, after all."
He snorted, then added with a grin. "Don't care if they're government shitcan inspectors. Can't charter you my ship."
"What? You got another charter?"
"Nope. Got no ship. You know that black hole out near Beta Correllis? Well, I cut a little too close to it and the gravity waves damn near twisted by ship apart. I limped back to port with her leaking air from every seam." He paused to take another drink. "She ain't going anywhere without a lot of dock time. Maybe never."
I sighed. Wilks really would have been my first choice. He was ugly and mean and usually drunk. But he was a damned good pilot.
I got up to go when he burped and told me to sit down. "I know someone who you can charter," he said. "Good pilot, trained at the Academy."
I sat back down. Academy trained pilots all are either in one of the military services or flying for the big companies. And the big companies didn't haul out here on the rim. All academy trained pilots that is, except for those who washed out of the Academy or service. "Good pilot?" I repeated.
"Good pilot."
Wilks looked sincere and not too drunk. But then it was early in the evening. Still, if he recommended a pilot ... "Has this pilot got a good ship?"
"Good enough. You ain't planning to play tag with supernovas, is you?"
I admitted that was not part of my plans. "Good. Eddie will get you were you want to go." He leaned forward more than I would have wished and informed me with breath I could almost see, "'sides, ain't many ships in port right now."
"You sure this Eddie, he's a good pilot?"
Wilks grinned and showed a few bad teeth. "Should be. She's damned good as I was back then."
"She?"
"Eddie's short for Edwena. My daughter."
I was too stunned to find words. The idea of a female version of Wilks was frightening. Still, I needed a ship....
I thank him and went back to the girls. "I may have a good pilot and ship. Let's go." A friendly little fist fight had broken out in one corner of the Ancient Rocket and the girls looked too much like they would like to join in, so I moved to get them out of there.
Dock 49 wasn't too far. And the ship there didn't look too bad. I'm no expert on star ships but this one didn't look more than twenty or thirty years old, and in fair condition. It was a light runabout, not a large transport, but that was fine with me, I didn't want to haul cargo around. The hull bore the name "Golden Girl" in fancy gold script. I braced myself for an encounter with Lenard Wilks' daughter and walked up to the figure standing with her back to me by the main ramp. I cleared my throat and she turned around.
It was a good thing that I had braced myself. The woman who turned her sweet smile my way was one of the most gorgeous dames I ever saw! Soft golden hair framed a lovely face with brilliant blue eyes and full, kissable red lips. My mind was trying to take in the fact that there was a lovely figure to go with that innocent face, and all I could mange was "Eddie...?"
"Captain Edwena Wilks, at your service. What can I do for you?"
I swallowed hard and wondered what I had done to please the gods to deserve so many lovely females in my life all at once. "I need a ship," came out as I tried to keep my eyes from wandering down to the breasts pushing hard against the blue jumpsuit.
Eddie gave me an honest once over, decided that I might do as a customer, and started to invite me in to talk this over when she spotted the girls not far behind me. For a long few seconds the golden haired Eddie stared at the three raven haired Amazons, both sides summing up each other the way women do. "They with you?" she finally asked as if doubting my taste in women.
"They're my clients. I'm an adjuster."
"Oh," was all she said but she said it in a tone that clearly told of her low opinion of adjusters. "Well, bring them along. Do they always carry swords and blasters?"
"Always. Except when they're making love."
Eddie shot me a glance that made me want to cringe. "I don't suppose you would really know about that," she said then grinned. "They look out of your league."
I bit off a retort to the effect that she was welcome to find out for herself just what kind of league I played in.
Which was a good idea. She might have taken it the wrong way. I also cut off an scathing remark concerning whether she was in their league or not. I didn't like the way she looked at the girls, and my Amazonian clients were looking back with a look I didn't like, and it wasn't anger. They were probably lesbians and would be more than willing to take Eddie into their beds when night came. Lordy, what an image that brought to my mind, golden hair spread across black.
Inside the ship was clean, much unlike her father's, and everything seemed functional. She showed us to the mess/lounge/meeting room where we all sat down at the one large table to discussed the charter. There wasn't much to discuss. I told Eddie that we were going to the girl's home world and then elsewhere, destinations unknown at this time. I gave her a brief description of the reason for this quest, which Thala emphasized with a firm, "We must get our Princess back!" and a fist pounded on the table.
"Slavers, heh? You figure there'll be any fighting?"
I couldn't lie to those lovely azure eyes. "I don't know. Maybe. But I'll take care of that. I'm the adjuster, remember?"
She snorted again but seemed to accept that. "Just remember," she added, "this is my ship and I put its safety first. This ain't no battle cruiser. First sign of a firefight and I get out as fast as my engines can wrap space. Understand?"
I nodded. The girls frowned but didn't object openly. I could tell they were thinking poorly of a woman who would run from a fight. Especially one for a noble and just cause.
Having defined the purpose, we discussed money, finally coming to an agreement. It isn't hard to negotiate when you wave a Fire Gem in someone's face. For what a single one could bring her, Eddie could have bought a totally new star ship or at least made a sizable down payment.
"When do you want to leave," asked Eddie. "I have a few things I'd like to get back at my office," I said.
"We are ready to go now," said Thala. Apparently these girls traveled light. I wondered if they always wore those leather outfits and where they stored an extra set of underwear. Then I remember my doubts that they wore any underwear at all. And I just bet they slept naked. Except for the swords, of course.
Unlike the Amazons, I was a little more civilized and hurried back to grab a couple changes of clothing, tell Mog to watch my office, and retrieve my arsenal from the safe. I always carried a standard Brettson blaster on my belt but for this case I wanted a little more firepower-just in case things got nasty. Lovingly wrapped in velvet was my special weapon. Figured it might come in handy. I was back within an hour and we jumped shortly after that.
CHAPTER THREE
Step One in Breaking a Captive Girl's Will
Princess Adrianne was very uncomfortable. The lovely raven-haired royalty was in her fourth day of captivity at the hands of Shaden and his dungeon full of sadistic helpers. It was his business, this training of females to be obedient slavegirls then selling them. The Kronos culture required all women be submissive, obedient and meek as lambs. With the native born Kronos women it was little problem, they were bred for submissiveness for many of generations. Unfortunately, that also produced a race of small breasted, diminutive females with only a slight bit more curves than a teenage boy. So the Kronos males went off world to capture women for those who could afford to buy the very best. And since these captured women often did not see this captivity as a wonderful employment opportunity, they were rebellious, argumentative, and disobedient-in short, everything but submissive slavegirls. That's where Tal Harra Shaden made his money. Not only did he capture maidens, he trained them. Then sold them at high prices to wealthy and important people.
Besides, in addition to become rather rich himself, he liked breaking the spirits of the lovely maidens dragged kicking and screaming into his castle. And they were lovely, the pick of a hundred planets, only the best, taken by force and imprisoned for the rest of their lives. But these women from Wolfhome were quite another level of rebelliousness. Several of the keepers had been injured when they momentarily allowed one of the Amazonian warrior women the chance to lash or kick out. Most women quickly learned that the punishments in that place were terrible and to be avoided at all costs. But these warrior women were wild spirits, fierce and proud, and tough as nails. There was a joke going around that Narktous had worn out one of his whips on the back and ass of one of these girls and still she had not uttered a single cry of pain.
Delicious! thought Shaden as he approached the room where Princess Adrianne was being trained. It will be such delicious pleasure breaking these women!
He found the Princess exactly as he had left her the evening before, hanging by her wrists over a stinking pit of sewer runoff. He noted how the head hung down, how the fingers were no longer balled into fists, how every line of the body screamed exhaustion as it hung limp. She was naked, of course, and once again he marveled at the fine figure, so full, so curvy, so very female! It would cost him, but again he considered keeping this one for his own personal slavegirl. Others would be so envious. Of course, if word got out that he had kept the very best for himself without offering her to the Emperor ... Yet, if he offered this one, his majesty would surely take her, and then he would lose the finest woman he had ever seen.
Wrinkling his nose at the smell, he entered the room and unhooked the wicked little black leather whip from his belt. It was a general purpose whip, stiff enough to cause real pain but flexible enough to be used on breasts and other places more sensitive than a girl's padded bottom. He brought back his arm and slashed the naked bottom a good stroke. It was not with the full force of his strong arm but not lightly laid on, either, enough of a strike to cause pain. The new stroke was laid directly upon a criss-cross network of raised discolored weals from yesterday's whipping. A fresh slash upon that already very sore skin was far more painful than it would have been upon fresh skin. There came a gasp and small cry of pain and her head snapped up. For a split second those dark eyes shot fire and the upper lip began to curl into a snarl. But with an effort she remembered where she was and cut off the sharp retort before it passed her lips.
"Sleep well, Princess?" Shaden asked with mock politeness. He was not answered, so he continued, "Most women can't take being hung by their wrists like that. When we use thin rope like that, the circulation is cut off and hands quickly turn purple and go numb. Long enough and the hands are useless for days, sometime forever. Are your hands numb?"
Her reply was a single finger gesture universal to humanoids the galaxy around. There was still a great deal of rebellion within that punished body, he thought and smiled.
Reaching over to the naked form, he grabbed a handful of the dark, luxurious pubic hair and gave a hard jerk. Princess Adrianne cried out at the unexpected pain and her body jerked back and forth a few times within the limits imposed by the ropes on her wrists and those holding her ankles down towards the floor. He looked down with amusement at the dark hairs in his hand. But there were plenty more where those came from and he considered for a moment pulling them out one by one. It would be fun and enough pain to make most women cry. He looked up at that lovely but determined face and sighed. Most women might cry at having their pubic hairs pulled out, but this one was different. She would probably laugh at such mild torment. Besides, he had another punishment planed.
"In the middle of whipping your bottom yesterday," he began casually, "I saw the look in your eyes that said you wanted to ask what is was I wanted from you. Most women come right out and ask it. They assume that I want them to do something or say something. Very few women realize that a man might want to simply cause pain and watch the woman suffer. But in this case, there is something I want from you. It is your total and unreserved devotion. I want to reach a point where you have totally given up your free will, totally lost all rebellion, and want only to please your Master.
"Ah, lean see by your face that you don't think it will happen. But it will. Any woman can be broken. Some just take a little longer than others. One day you will be nothing but an owned object, a sexy toy to be played with, used and abused by the man who holds your leash. Your only wish will be to please him. And if it pleases him to deliver pain unto you and mark your skin, then you will fetch the whip for him and kiss it gently before handing it to him.
"You frown, I see. Well, it will come to pass. There are chemicals that could almost do it by themselves, drugs to alter your mind. But sometimes they destroy the mind and a totally mindless body is useless to me. I prefer the old ways as practiced by my forefathers thousands of years ago. Did you know that at one time all women were considered the equal of men on this planet? Amazing, I know! But that was long ago and thank the Gods of Chaos that the men came to their senses and put women in their proper places as slaves.
"We call the process of converting a rebellious woman into a nice, obedient slave training. You are being trained."
"You call whipping a woman training?" Princess Adrianne spat out. "You haven't even told me what to do."
"Ah, so can talk. Well, yes, this is part of your training. And of the other girls we took with you. This is Phase One. It is simple. I take a few days, or a few weeks, to convince you that I can cause you a lot of pain. That's all, just that I can hurt you. And that it can be more pain than you could ever imagine."
He grinned at her frown. "I see that you understand. At least the part about my being able to cause you pain. Do not your wrists hurt? Is not your bottom very sore and burn with a fresh flame where my whip has kissed it?" He took a step closer and grabbed some more pubic hair again. "Shall I pull it all out by the roots?"
The Princess grimaced at the harsh hold upon her curly patch but said nothing. After a few moments he let go without having detached any more.
"The first part of your training is to make you know, really know deep down inside your heart, that I own you. I can do anything I wish to your body: hurt it, beat it, screw your pussy until it bleeds, torture you. I can even kill you in any of a dozen most exquisitely painful ways. And there is nothing you can do about it. No one is coming to rescue you. Your world is far away and no one there even knows who took you." He laughed at his own cleverness. "Just some dark ships in the night, quickly there, quickly gone. But I digress. I was talking about the first part of your training. You will become aware that I can do anything to you, cause unlimited amounts of pain for any reason, or no reason. Then you will lose hope. Your will to fight will disappear and your whole universe will become an overwhelming desire to stop the pain. Then I can begin to show you how pleasuring your Master is the right path.
You scowl but it will be so."
He patted her sore bottom with the tip of the whip. "But for now you are being shown that I can cause you pain. More pain than you ever thought possible. And...." he paused for dramatic effect, "and not only to you but to those you care about." He snapped his fingers.
Immediately two of the keepers entered, one tugging on the leash of another captive Wolfhome woman. It was a girl named Rachael, one of the youngest of Princess Adrianne's private guards and a favorite who often was granted permission to visit the royal bed. Her arms were tightly bound behind her, palms inward and elbows lashed solidly together. She shuffled on feet joined by a short chain as she tired to move to keep up with the noose around her neck as it tightened when the guard pulled and bid her come along.
The young girl of only seventeen summers gasped as she saw her Princess hanging in that foul chamber. Her eyes grew wide with surprise then narrowed with anger at the men who would dare do such things to the royal person. Apparently having given orders before hand, Shaden watched as the guards led the girl over to a wall opposite Princess. While one held the young girl, the other unlocked the chain from her ankles and pushed the feet together to replace the shackles with rope. Then they pushed her back against the wall and bound her ankles to a metal ring set solidly in the cement of the floor.
As soon as her feet were secured to the meeting of the wall and floor, another length of rope was produced and one end of it tied around her wrists. The other end was then thrown up and over a wooden beam going across the room over the pit. When they pulled on the rope, the girls arms were lifted up behind her. Since she was standing on bound feet with her back against the wall, that forced her to lean forward. As her arms rose higher she was unable to keep her balance directly over her feet and found herself in a form of semi-suspension, heels against the hard stone blocks of the wall, and her body leaning away from the wall. A great deal of her weight was taken by the rope to her wrists, and that caused strain upon her shoulders. The teenage girl said nothing but the Princess could see that she was in considerable discomfort.
They tied off the rope and left the girl in her awkward and uncomfortable position. But that was by no means the limit of her torment. One keeper took a length of thin metal wire from his pocket and made a loop in one end. The other keeper held the girl's body steady as he placed that loop over her left nipple, jerking it down tightly so that the wire cut deeply into the fear-rigid nipple. He repeated the procedure with the other nipple. Both of them looked like little balloons with the wire cutting in deeply at their bases.
"This will show you that we can even cause you to hurt those you love. See those wires? They must hurt her, just being on her like that. But can you imagine what it will feel like to them if someone were to pull on those wires? And that someone will be you." His sinister snicker made their blood run cold but neither girl said a word.
Shaden snapped his fingers again and one of the keepers knelt down to untie the rope from the Princess' ankles to the ring in the floor. He took that rope off but left the rope holding her ankles together. As he held her legs parallel to the floor, the other keeper took the end of one wire and looped it around her left big toe. She tired to pull back her legs but the strength of the keeper defeated her. Quickly the wire was looped and knotted around the toe. The second wire was attached to the other toe."
"I would suggest you keep your legs lifted," said Shaden sarcastically. "If you lower them, you'll pull on your girl's titties and cause her a lot of pain."
The keepers were finished with their task and the one holding her legs slowly let go. The Princess held her legs bent at the hips although it was obviously already a strain on her muscles.
"It is even possible that you would tear a nipple off. I've seen it done." Shaden seemed very happy at that thought. "Well, I'm off to oversee the training of some of your other girls. Have a nice day." He headed out but glanced back from the door way before leaving the two naked women to their suffering.
There was very little slack in the two lengths of wire, and no way that the Princess could ease the tension in her legs without hurting Rachael. The last image Shaden had was of one naked woman holding her legs at about forty-five degrees and the other looking very worried. Already those lovely legs were trembling-only a slight bit but enough to foretell of agony to come.
Shaden smiled to himself. This was such a lovely way to impress these slavegirls with the undeniable fact that pain was now a way of life for them. And to make one of them the cause of pain for the other was a delightful touch. He had no doubt that as the Princess grew weary and could no longer hold up her legs, she would suffer even more than her teenage friend. Not that the younger girl would escape pain-no indeed! Those thin wires would cut in to the tender flesh of those youthful nipples until she was screaming. And pull those delightly firm young breasts all out of shape.
He planned to return in a hour or so. It was always so much fun to see how the breasts were stretched by the pull on the nipples. And he hadn't been lying to the Princess. If she were not careful and jerked to hard, the wire could slice right through the flesh. Of course they didn't wish to do any permanent harm to the girls, perfect slavegirls brought much more money, and the only time he had ever seen it happen was when the girl with the wires tied to her toes went berserk and began thrashing about. Still, it was always an interesting sight to see the strain as one girl tried not to hurt her friend.
CHAPTER FOUR
Outward Bound
Eddie's ship was called the Century Hawk when she bought it, but she changed the name to Golden Girl. She had bought it with her life savings and what Lenard Wilks could lend her, and money from a few other family members. Inside it was a clean ship and a fast one. I was the last one on board and found my three clients in the lounge, talking with Eddie. They seemed to be right friendly with each other and stopped talking when I entered. Eddie got up and showed me to a small cabin on the port side. As I tossed my bag on the bunk, I inquired as to how soon we would be lifting.
"Rhonda has given me the coordinates. We lift in fifteen minutes," she informed. "Better get your gear stowed."
Then she was gone before I could think to ask where my clients were quartered. But then, this wasn't that big of a star ship and finding them wouldn't be too hard.
I threw my things into a drawer and secured it. Then I laid down on the bunk and stretched out. It had been a busy day-at least when compared to my usual days. Clients, the good kind-paying clients, hadn't been too common lately. As I lay there, I finally had some time to think. I didn't know if I could really help these warrior women. Slavers were not rare out on the rim, and there was a good chance that we would not be able to track them down. And even if we did, then what? Was I, with a trio of sword-wielding Amazons, suppose to charge into a planet of slavers, grab the Princess, and charge out again without someone taking umbrage?
Then my thoughts began to drift to other matters. Like those very short leather skirts. My male hormones were stirring restlessly every since the three came on the scene. And Captain Eddie wasn't doing my poor, tortured hormones any good, either. She was one fine looking woman, a strange contrast to the three warriors but almost as good in her own way. They were tall, firm and athletic. Eddie was shorter, softer and in shape, but a rounder shape. Not that the Wolfhome girls didn't have curves ... They had long raven black hair usually secured in pony-tails, and eyes like deep, inky black pools. Eddie was golden haired and had the loveliest blue eyes I've ever seen.
I had the feeling that Eddie would be a lot of fun in bed. The Amazons I was not so sure about. My male vanity and riled up hormones wanted at the girls, but the logical side of my brain said it might be a mistake. They might put some demands on a man that might be hard to fill.
And then there was the way Eddie smiled. I knew she wasn't being overwhelmed by my charms but she did have the loveliest smile. My clients frowned a lot and looked at you like they were planning a massacre with you as the prime guest.
Suddenly there was a warning tone and then the ship lifted. Eddie rode her hard and the dash to get above the atmosphere kept me pressed hard into the bunk. Then there was a period of weightlessness before she switched on the artgrav. A few minutes passed then we made the Jump.
And that reminded me why I really don't like star travel. There is a tingle all over every nerve in your body as you leave the normal time-space continuum. You see flashing lights, get nauseous, and forget your name. Fortunately it lasts only a second but I've been known to loose my dinner immediately right after that.
I wandered forward after the "Secure from Jump Status" tone. At least that's what I think the military calls it. Eddie was in the control room, sitting at the left console and watching readouts on one of the computer screens. The view screen showed the usual distorted prismatic blurs that are stars set against impossibly intense blackness. If you stood there for a few minutes, you could see them moving, the closest more than those farther away.
"You been out on the rim long?" I asked, hoping to establish some kind of rapport.
"A few months." She looked up from the console to fix me with those blue eyes. "If you're asking why I am out here, hauling cargo and people around instead still in the Imperial Forces, I'll tell you. I washed out. Plain and simple."
"You don't have to tell me," I offered. I had been wondering but really hadn't intended the question.
"My first assignment was on a small world in the Delta Quadrant. The name isn't important. But that world had been attacking Imperial transports and it was time to teach the locals a lesson. We came in hard and fast and blasted a relatively defenseless planet into radioactive wasteland. From orbit it wasn't so bad but when I saw up close what we had done, I nearly puked in my suit. After that I quit."
In a sense I could understand her reasoning. Imperial forces are never found out here on the Rim but around ancient Terra they have a reputation for being mean and cruel bastards.
"You won't see too much of that kind of action out here," I offered. "Lots of small worlds, small space fleets, and petty engagements. Nothing like a whole world being burnt off."
She looked up at me again and I couldn't tell at all what was going on behind those lovely eyes. Finally she sighed. "Good." Then she tapped a couple keys. "We'll reach Wolfhome in twelve hours. Just time enough to get a good sleep."
"Sounds like a good idea" I said, looking for a way to bring the conversation around to the possibility of her sharing that sleep with the only man on board. I smiled my sexiest smile.
Eddie smiled back. "If you're thinking you really need a woman, your clients are down the hall. I have work to do."
Not much a man can do when he's dismissed like that. I picked up my pride from the floor and shuffled off in what I assumed was the direction indicated. A little one on one dancing between the sheets with Eddie would have been wonderful, but a man's got to do what a man's got to do. Or something like that. Heard that once in an old movie.
Their cabin wasn't hard to find. I touched the announce pad and a second later the door slid open. Immediately I was groping for words. One of the Amazons was sitting at the desk, fully clothed and polishing her sword. But the other two ... Wow! One was casually walking into the room from the sonic shower, naked as can be. The other was sitting on the floor, doing sit ups, also as naked as the day she was born. All three were looking at me as I looked back.
"I ... Ahhhh...."
Thala, the one at the table, shook her head. "Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?" she said with a smile. No, more of a sneer.
"Yes, but ... Well, you girls certainly are ... Built."
"Men!" Fauna said disgustedly. Exactly what that meant, I wasn't sure.
"Did you want something?" asked Thala.
Have you ever been fed a straight line? Did I want something? Does a Rigilian Sweathog perspire? Do black holes suck?
I got brave. A real man wouldn't let a couple naked women get the better of him. "Actually," I said firmly, "I wondered if one of you would like to ... ah, spend some time ... Ah ... Having sex?"
They laughed at me.
Fauna laughed a little less and I thought for a second there might have been interest in her eyes.
"On our world," Thala informed me, "men do not go asking women for sex. If a woman feels like getting pregnant, she will choice a man and they will have sex once. Twice if it doesn't take the first time. But casual sex such as I have heard is common on other worlds simply isn't done. Now with men," she added pointedly.
"Don't you have sex drives?" I muttered.
By way of an answer, Fauna stood up and put her arm around Rhonda's waist.
Okay, I know when I'm not wanted. I made some sort of apology and got out of there. Strikes two, three and four-you're out.
I didn't sleep well. Races where most or all of the women are lesbian are not uncommon. I just didn't like being laughed at by incredibly sexy, naked women. I also didn't like being on board a star ship with four of the loveliest female creatures I've ever seen and have to sleep alone.
I awoke hours later without feeling very refreshed. I showered and then went looking for a breakfast. I found no one in the control room, lounge or mess. The ship could fly very well on autopilot, and I wondered if Eddie was sleeping. The autochef provided a fair meal, and then I went looking for my clients just to have someone to talk to.
No one answered the announce pad so I thumbed the open key. The door slid silently back but there were sounds coming from inside. Sounds I had a little trouble believing. Shocked, I just stood there and gaped with open mouth.
There were four naked woman in the room, two 69'ing on a bunk and the other two engaged in oral sex on the floor. One of the participants laid out flat on her back on the floor was Captain Eddie, minus her uniform. I ached down between my legs to see that she was as perfect out of uniform as she was in it. It was Thala who's head was buried between Eddie's legs, and from the expression of rapture on Eddie's face, she was doing a very good job of it.
Part of me wanted to stay and watch. Hell! Part of me wanted to jump right in and start grabbing and doing my best to satisfy any female body I could get my hands on. But another part of me suggested that these warrior women might not take kindly to a male watching their fun and games. And the ship's Captain might be happy to show them where they could dump the intruder's body out the nearest airlock.
With great reluctance I closed the door and wandered off to have a nice, quiet cry.
Many light years away, a different scene was being enacted in the training facilities of House Shaden. The Princess Adrianne was no longer hanging by her wrists over a pit of foul sewer runoff. And no longer were her big toes wired to the tender nipples of her friend. But that torture had left a strong impression upon her mind, one that she could not shake off as she lay in her cell awaiting the horrors of a new day. It hadn't done a lot of good for the poor tits almost cut off by that wire.
The Princess was naked as were all the women in that place. She was weighted down with heavy shackles that clasp her wrists and ankles, encircled her neck, and were joined to each other and rings on the wall by heavy chains and padlocks. The tiny bench was hard and sleep had not come easy.
As she sat there, listening to the sounds of that horrible place awakening, the fresh screams replacing the dull moans and occasional sobbing she had heard all night, she could not remove the image of Rachael partially suspended by her arms behind her, and her nipples being grotesquely pulled by the thin wire tied around them. She had tried so very hard to keep her legs at an angle so Rachael would not suffer, but even her Amazonian strength could not last forever. Eventually her muscles burned and trembled, and finally would no longer obey the order to stay extended. She had been unable to take her eyes from Rachael's poor tits as they were pulled harder and harder, her breasts enlongaging under the pressure until they no longer resembled firm youthful globes.
Rachael had cried when the pain became too great to bare, though, as a warrior maiden she had suppressed all outward expression of the agony until it become simply too much to bear. The Princess could see the fear in her eyes, the fear that the wire would cut through her flesh and detach those youthful nipples.
It had been a very long torment for both women. But the worst part hadn't been the pain, terrible as it was. The worst part was that she now understood that these men not only enjoyed hurting women, but also did not care if they caused permanent damage. Rachael's nipples had been cut into and bled some. But they could also have been sliced off, and that is what scared the Princess. They had been left alone for hours, visited only a couple times by that big man with the black beard who talked as if he were in charge. During that time, something could have gone wrong, something could have happened to permanently damaged Rachael's lovely female attributes. The cruel man had said as much, that he had seen this wire trick cut a girl's nipple completely off. And he had laughed as he said it.
The Princess tried to flush such thoughts from her mind. Yet what came to the forefront to replace memories was the question of what did they have in store for her today? For the first time since being brought in bondage to his place, the Princess began to accept the possibility that what that man said might come to pass. She, and the girls with her, might actually have their spirits broken and be trained to be docile slavegirls. Pain is a powerful tool, the Princess was finding out. It can change a person.
One of the keepers came for her. She was allowed a brief meal and then was hosed down with icy cold water. Thoughts of being able to place her hands around that arrogant male neck and twist until she heard bones snap flashed through her mind, but the heavy shackles held her back. She was a prisoner and it would be smart to bide her time until a real chance for escape would come.
She was replaced in her cell for a while, then two guards came for her. The shackles were taken off by one as the other stood by. In his hand was a short stick of dull gray metal. At the end pointed towards her were two small prongs. Had they been sharply pointed, she would have considered that it might be some kind of weapon, but they were rounded. The guard held the stick casually but generally pointed in her direction. She kept her eye on that stick. At times it pointed almost to the floor.
Then came that brief moment when opportunity must be snatched or let slip through your fingers. The last of the shackles fell off her ankles and for a glorious moment she was free of all restraints. And one guard was on his knees, picking up the chains that had been her companions during the night. Princess Adrianne made a bid for her freedom.
Her bare foot came around in an attempt to knock that stick from the guard's hand. It would have been followed up by a second kick either between his legs or to his head, depending on how he moved. Either way, that guard would be out of action for at least a few seconds, maybe more. She would then come down upon the second guard with all her might in a double fisted stroke to the back of the head.
Fine plans. Except that the guard was ready for her and almost casually moved the stick upward so that her foot passed through empty air where it had been. Just as casually, he extended his arm until the pronged end touched the outer thigh of the leg that had just swung by.
There was no noise, nothing to indicate that a weapon had been used upon her, but suddenly the Princess cried out and jerked backwards. All the nerves in her upper leg were burning and screaming at her. She fell back to the tiny bench and hugged her leg. Tears came to the eyes and she cried with the pain.
It took the better part of a minute for the burning to leave her nerves. And then they still tingled and sent pain messages for minutes after that. The Princess knew now that the simple looking stick was a formidable means of controlling slavegirls. She had no wish to again experience such incredible pain. It had only been a slight touch of the two metal prongs on the muscle of her leg but somehow that light touch awoke every pain nerve between her knee and hip.
When he saw the naked woman had recovered enough to listen to him, the guard informed her, "That was only a sample of the second setting. It can be worse. And it can be used on other places," he sneered. "Would you like Tentra here to hold your legs spread wide while I shove this up your cunt?"
The Princess visibly shivered at the idea. Quickly she shook her head.
When he commanded her to stand, she rose to her feet and stood there with head bowed and tears drying upon her cheeks. She did not resist as they took thin cord and bound her arms behind her with the elbows crushed together. It was painful to be bound that way but not as painful as that stick could be.
The Princess was marched off to yet another of the seemingly endless training rooms, this one consisting of bare walls and a metal bar stretching from wall to wall about the height of the Princess' waist. It was solidly anchored into each wall. She was pushed up against it backwards and her hands draped over the back. One guard bound her ankles together tightly then left about five feet of rope hanging loose after the final cinching and knotting. The other guard simply stood by with his hand resting on the stick in its holster at his hip.
Another length of rope was used to lash her waist solidly against the horizontal metal pole. Then the rope from her ankles was threaded between her forearms and back down to her ankles. When pulled, that rope tightened over her wrists and pulled her arms down towards her feet. The guard pulled harder and she was forced to lean backwards. When he tied the knots, she was arched backwards over the pole. It was a strained but not overly painful position.
The guards left her alone in the dimly lit room. For a little while the Princess experimented with trying to free her arms from the ropes, but each effort failed. They were simply bound too tightly and knotted too well for her to gain any freedom by herself. She also tried to bend her hips to gain some relief from the arched position, but the ropes around her waist and the pole held her quite solidly.
If, she reasoned, this is to be my torture for today, it will have to last a long, long time. Having her body arched backwards like that was uncomfortable but totally endurable for a women in good shape, which the Princess was. This was not of the same category as yesterday's punishment had been. Not at all.
Her delusions of spending a relatively comfortable day were shattered an hour later when Tal Harra Shaden walked in, smiling his wicked smile at the anticipation of watching coming pain. Behind him entered a beautiful women, the first Princess Adrianne had seen in this place. She was not as tall as the Princess, nor as most of the warrior women of Wolfhome, but she held herself proudly upright. The soft black leather boots with the thin and very high heels helped, too. That soft leather caressed her legs all the way up to below the knees. The brief panties were also made of black leather and fitted very tightly, so much so, in fact, that the Princess could clearly see how the leather molded itself into this woman's pussy. There was no top for that pair of nice breasts.
The woman was rather pretty in her own way. Her hair was half way between a hardy red and rich auburn, which complimented her brown eyes quite well. A slender metal collar fitted snugly around her neck, and the Princess had the impression it was more symbolic than a real restraint. The only other item of clothing, or restraint, if you prefer, were two small gold rings, one through each nipple. The Princess stared in disbelief at those seemingly sold rings of gold that someone had placed through the flesh of that women's nipples. She had never heard of such a thing and it held a strange fascination for her.
"Oh, I see you have noticed Loreen's rings," said Shaden. "Very pretty, aren't they? Those, like the slave collar around her neck, are symbols of her status as a trained and obedient slavegirl. Except that the rings are a little more practical for they can be used in restraining her. Slave Loreen, tell the Princess here how long you had to stand on your toes last week with your tits locked to the rings in the wall."
"I had to stand for five hours, Master."
"See?" Shaden turned back to the Princess with a grin. "She had to stand on tip toes for five hours because her tits were locked to rings in the wall. Were you otherwise restrained, slave Loreen?"
"No, Master."
"Were you comfortable, slave?"
"No, Master."
"Tell the Princess why I had to locked in such an uncomfortable position."
"I do not know why my Master did it to me, Princess."
Shaden's grin widened. "Did it hurt? Describe the pain to the Princess here."
"The muscles in my feet began to ache terribly. They grew hot and trembled. And when my feet sagged, the rings pulled on my nipples. I could do nothing about it. The wall was smooth and I could not hold myself up. It hurt my nipples." She delivered the description of what must have been a very unpleasant afternoon in a casual, even voice holding not a trace of regret, anger or sorrow. She might as well have been announcing that the sun had come up in the morning as usual.
Shaden had another surprise in store for the Princess. "Slave," he said imperially, "Place a finger through each ring." Loreen immediately inserted her forefinger up through the bottom of each ring until the golden band fitted snugly around the first joint. She stood there calmly awaiting the next order, even through she must surely have known what it would be.
"Pull."
Loreen slowly pushed her hands out from her body to make the fingers tug upon the rings. With a strange fascination and horror, the Princess watched the woman's nipples stretch and then the breast slowly changing shape under the pressure. It was much like watching Rachael's nipples and breasts the day before. "Harder," said Shaden.
The slave Loreen pulled harder. A frown of pain darkened her eyes but she said nothing. For long seconds, then a minute the scene was held, one man demonstrating his control over a woman, that woman causing herself what must have been terrible pain, and another woman watching. Tears began to form at the corners of Loreen's eyes but still she made not a sound, and still she pulled upon her rings.
"If I ordered it, she would pull those rings right out of the flesh they are embedded in," announced Shaden. "It would hurt, it would do damage, but yet she would do it. She is a well trained slavegirl."
Almost as an afterthought, Shaden added, "You may let go now, slave."
Loreen pulled back her fingers and then removed them from the rings. She still did not say a word.
"You do not believe it, Princess Adrianne, but one day you will be as well trained. Perhaps it will amuse me to order you to pull at rings in your own nipples and keep pulling until I tire of it.
"But enough of that for now. I have brought slave Loreen here because she is to be a part of your training. A painful part, as it will happen. Slave, take this whip." He handed her a small whip, a stiff handle covered with wrapped leather strips, and three thin leather thongs coming from that.
"Position yourself to whip the Princess' front."
Princess Adrianne's head snapped up. Could this be? It was one thing to have your bottom beaten and marked up, but another for that to be done to your breasts. A woman is very sensitive about her breasts, and the very idea sent a cold chill through her.
Loreen stood to the left of the bound and naked slave trainee, and held the whip down to her side. The Princess began unconsciously straining against the ropes holding her helpless before this terrible threat. There was fear in her eyes, but not a word on her lips.
"This whip will sting. It will make your skin burn. But it will not cut the skin nor leave any marks," informed Shaden. "Yet it will become a terrible ordeal for you because the whipping of your breasts and tummy and thighs will go on and on until you are ready to scream. And then you will scream. And still it will go on.
"Show her one stroke, slave."
Loreen's arm came back and then swung forward. There was a slight swishing noise and then a smack as the leather impacted the large breast. The Princess held back a gasp at the sudden pain. But he had been right, it was not as terrible as those previously delivered to her bottom. Yet it did make her skin sting. She looked down and could see one small red area on the top of the breast. She knew there were two others below that but out of her vision as she stood there arched backward.
"We will now begin. Slave Loreen, you will slowly and steadily whip this girl's front, from the top of her breasts down to the top of her knees. Miss no area, and include the sides where the whip will reach. When I return, I expect to see the whole front of this woman marked up an angry red. And I would like to see her crying."
Shaden turned and left without another word, smug in his certainty that the orders would be obeyed completely and without question.
Without expression on her face, Loreen began the whipping, starting on the top of the left breast and slowly working down that side, laying the fresh marks almost side by side. Each stroke was delivered with neither a light hand nor a heavy one, but just enough to make the sting and burn. When she reached the area just above the knees, she shifted to the other side and began laying down a pattern of marks up the other leg.
For a long time the Princess held back both expressions of the pain she was feeling, and words. But finally she could no longer hold her tongue. "Why are you doing this? Am I not another woman? How can you do this to another woman?"
Loreen did not respond, but did continue the slow whipping, about a stroke every ten or so seconds. A little later, as the second covering of the same area began, she again asked the same questions, "How can you do this to another woman? Doesn't that mean something to you?"
"I am not allowed to talk," Loreen said quietly. Then she would say nothing else. If she left any feelings about the pain she was causing another woman, she did not show them. The whipping continued.
Sometimes when the leather thongs hit right on a nipple or touched a more sensitive place between her legs, the Princess gasped aloud or winced. And she quickly found that fresh marks laid over prior ones hurt much worse. Her whole breasts were becoming vividly red, as was most of her front. She could take those strokes across her thighs and hips better than those across her breast, most women could. But as the strokes continued, and her skin became more and more sensitive, the pain increased.
There came a point where the once proud Princess could no longer hold in the tears.
Later, there came a point where she began to ask Loreen to stop this torture. Each new stroke, although delivered with a mild hand, hurt terribly because it was delivered to skin already marked and red and very, very sore.
It might have been an hour, it might have been two, time becomes meaningless when you're suffering, but at some point the Princess could no longer take the ceaseless whipping of her body. With a high pitched scream, she began jerking her body back and forth in wild struggles against the ropes holding her prisoner. She cried and cursed and jerked and pulled at her limbs but only succeeded in hurting her wrists and ankles, and nearly jerking her own feet out from under her. It was a primitive reaction against the helplessness and pain, an emotional outburst from a woman pushed to her limits. Even as she struggled as wildly as her bonds permitted, the whipping continued.
There came a point where Loreen's arms grew tired and she could hardly swing the small whip through the air. But she continued. About that point Princess Adrianne of Wolfhome, a hunt and war leader of her people, began to scream in earnest. Her skin had become so sensitive that the slightest touch of the leather thongs was pure agony. She cried between screams.
"Hold," came the simple order. Neither woman had seen Shaden enter the chamber. The whip fell from fatigued fingers to the stone floor.
Shaden walked up to inspect the damage he had ordered. He noted the massive redness over most of her skin, and the tear tracks down both cheeks. Finally he stood back and regarded both women while stroking his beard slowly.
"I'll bet that your arms are tired, slave Loreen," he said finally. She did not answer since it was not a question, but her down turned eyes told all too plainly the truth of his guess. "Which is why I have brought you a replacement," he continued grandly. "Slave Darlene!"
At his call a second woman entered. She was a little smaller than Loreen and had dirty blonde hair. But she was dressed in an identical manner, including two golden rings through the flesh of her nipples.
"You may continue the whipping," Shaden informed the newcomer. The girl picked up the whip and positioned herself next to the bound woman with eyes open wide from fear. She swung the whip to place fresh pain upon a breast already screaming in agony. Princess Adrianne screamed and shook all over. But she could go nowhere and the whipping continued.
"Take your clothing off," ordered Shaden to Loreen. The slavegirl immediately hooked thumbs through the waist band of the small bit of clothing she did have on and pushed it down her legs, and then off.
"Come here," he ordered as he unzipped the front of his pants. A rigid male phallus sprang into view as if eager to get to its task. With little effort, Shaden picked up Loreen and lowered her upon his rod. The slavegirl widened her legs enough for this and held herself steady with hands upon his shoulders. His stiff rod found the sheath already juicy and slid in without very little resistance. A moan escaped from the slavegirl's lips as the rod drove deep into her. It was all she was allowed to show of the great pleasure she felt inside. She wrapped her legs around his hips.
Shaden pushed forward until Loreen's back was hard against the rough stone wall, then he pinned her arms to the wall with his hands upon her elbows, and proceeded to pump against her with long, hard strokes, each of which brought a gasp of pleasure to her lips.
Both the whipper and the whippee ignored the scene of sexual intercourse going on not four feet away. The Princess was weeping again and crying aloud with each stroke. The whipping continued long after Shaden and slave Loreen had left. It continued until a proud Princess ceased screaming, stopped even moaning, with each blow of the whip. She had been pushed to her limits and now knew a whole new dimension of pain far beyond what she had ever believed possible.
That night the Princess was hogtied tightly and laid upon a table covered with tiny rocks set into a plastic coating.
The effect was the same as would have been called "coarse grit sandpaper" on Earth a long time before. Ropes were attached to hold her down so she couldn't roll off the table, and she was left for the night. The Princess cried herself to sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Wolfhome
I was surprised to find that I really did like Wolfhome. The pine forests and magnificent mountains were very unlike the dry deserts and constantly wind-swept oceans of Cetious IV. I breathed deeply of that fresh air and found myself really liking this place. Between the pines and ferns, there was a lot of green around me, and I found that pleasing. A clear blue sky overhead and the gentle singing of birds stirred something within me, a longing I hadn't even known I had.
"There," said Thala, pointing to the other side of the clearing with her sword. "That is where the slavers' ship sat down.
Back to business. I picked up the backpack of instruments and hiked across the meadow. Behind us was the hunting lodge of Princess Adrianne, an impressive structure that looked as if someone had tried to construct a palace out of logs. It was several stories tall, quite large and had stables in back for horses.
I began taking readings. Captain Eddie began circling the area, taking her own recorder readings. I was glad for her help, trying to read traces of propulsion systems wasn't my strong point.
We met on the other side of the circular shaped area and compared notes. Then we headed back towards the warrior women waiting nervously by Eddie's ship.
"I'm afraid there isn't much to tell," I began. "The propulsion system they used was a Cutler Repulsion Field Generator, a rather common type. There's traces of antimatter annihilation, but all that means is that there was a anti-matter power plant. Again, pretty common."
"You're saying that you have found nothing useful?" asked Thala.
I didn't like the way she said it, nor the way her hand rested on the hilt of her sword.
"No, this does eliminate some ships and races. I'll run a search pattern over the field to see if I can pick up anything else." Then I high tailed it across the field again before they could ask any more questions.
I didn't really expect to find anything. The important information we had already picked up. But I walked slowly back and forth across the field, checking the readings and hoping for something that would tell me more.
I found it but it wasn't from the recorder. It was a piece of fabric laying on the ground. And next to that was a small dagger. I squatted and studied the dagger. Then I picked both it and the cloth up to take back to the girls.
"You recognize this?" I asked as I held out the dagger.
Thala drew an identical dagger from her belt and showed it to me. "It's a warrior's grace knife. We all have them."
I made a mental note to check for hidden weapons anytime I tried to crawl into the sack with any of these girls. That small knife had been concealed behind the sword and I had missed it totally.
"And this?" I held up the clothe. It was perhaps a foot square and torn on one side. I expected them to tell me it was a piece of the Princess' clothing or some guard's hankie.
"I have never seen cloth like that before." The other two shook their heads in agreement with Thala.
I looked at it carefully. Maybe, just maybe, it was from one of the invaders. But what good would a piece of cloth do? I imagined myself spending the rest of my life wandering around the rim, trying to find someone with a uniform missing a piece that matched the one in my hand. Sort of like the king's ministers searching for the maiden whose foot fitted the glass slipper.
Just then there came the sound of giggling across the field. I turned to see half a dozen of the Wolfhome girls racing back and forth over a grassy areas next to the hunting lodge. All were stark naked. They seemed to be playing some sort of game where one girl had to tag another on the left breast, then that girl had to find another one to tag. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Thala interrupted my enjoyment of the scene. "Is there anything else you can do here?" she asked pointedly.
I sighed. "Probably not. Let's go into the ship."
Of course I could admit defeat, collect my fee and go home. But I really wanted to solve this case. Maybe it was pride in myself as an adjuster. Maybe it just wasn't fair for some interstellar bullies to drop out of the sky and steal women away from their home. Or maybe I wanted to impress Captain Eddie in hopes that she would consider playing some games with a real man.
Well, whatever....
Back in the ship. I studied the piece of cloth carefully under a microscope. I had the recorder count the weave pattern and analyze the type of fabric. I studied the shape of the torn section and tried to guess what the lager shape would have been. I tested for chemicals hidden in the cloth fibers and found minor traces of a general purpose cleaner and Dician peppers. But Dician peppers were used throughout the galaxy as a spice, so that told me very little.
I was afraid I was going to have to admit defeat.
Then I turned the fabric over and read the small label on the other side. "Union made on Alpha Galdia III" it read.
The ship's computer supplied information on Alpha Galdia III: a class A5 planet circling a type G star about one hundred light years from Wolfhome. Also called Kronos by the inhabitants, a race of war-like and extremely aggressive people called the Kronosians. These Kronosians possessed a modern, well-armed star fleet and defended their territory with pronounced violence to all who came near. Slavery is an established institution and they were known to be inter-stellar slavers. Occasionally even ships in deep space have been boarded and female passengers taken. The system is classified H-3, hostile and dangerous, and all ships are warned to stay clear.
Wonderful.
My client's Princess had to be kidnapped by the bad boys of this sector of the rim. A few minutes later I was displaying the information on the main screen in the lounge.
"We have no fleet that could go up against them," said Thala. "There is no way we can demand the return of our Princess. Do you think it would be possible they would accept a ransom?"
I had to shake my head. Kidnapping across dozens of light-years for ransom was very rarely done, I told them. "Besides," I added, "if that were the case, you would have gotten a ransom demand by now."
I have never seen Amazon female warriors so sad before.
I was pushing the piece of fabric around the table with one finger, thinking. Finally I made them an offer. "If we can't come charging in the front door," I began.
"And we can't sneak in the back door...." I paused for dramatic effect more than anything else, " ... then we'll have to get them to ask us to come in."
Thala's eyes narrowed as she digested my words. Eddie's eyebrows came down in a frown as if she didn't like that she thought I was suggesting.
"You don't mean...." Eddie began.
"They would welcome another slaver," Thala cut in with a voice that held a hard cutting edge to it. "And his cargo of slavegirls."
I nodded and was careful not to grin. I was a screwy idea and stupid and would never work. And I had no idea why I ever came up with it.
Eddie looked from my face to Thala's and back. "You don't mean that these girls will be...."
"It's the only way I can think of to get to Kronos," I told her, keeping my eyes on Thala. "Unless you have a better idea?"
"That's stupid!" she retorted. "And dangerous. You'd be throwing these girls into a terrible life of slavery to barbaric goons...."
"We will do whatever we have to," said Thala softly. Eddie shut up at that tone in Thala's voice, then sat there staring at her.
In the background I could seen Rhonda and Fauna nod their full agreement. My mind was racing. Posing as a slaver, I could perhaps get into to Kronos. But what then? "Using you girls as part of the cover, I can maybe find out who has the Princess and see if I can buy her. It is obvious that she and the other girls have been kidnapped to be trained and sold as slaves. Maybe I can be the highest bidder. You still have quite a few Flame Gems. Should be more than enough to buy a slave at auction."
I didn't like the hardness in Thala's eyes. And I felt sorry for whoever had kidnapped the Princess when this warrior woman caught up with him.
That being settled, we charted course and jumped for Smoo-Tau VI. Why? Because Rosin Nea Grayscalp was there.
Princess Adrianne was tired. It was obvious in the grayness under her eyes, the droop of her eyelids, and the way she could barely hold up her head. But she forced herself not to succumb to sleep no .matter how much her body craved it.
As attractive as it may be, sleep was something she did not desire. For were she to nod off to sleep for even a few seconds, she would be rudely awaken by pain of a kind she had no wish to again experience.
The lovely woman was secured in one of the training rooms and had been for over two days now. She was naked and bound to a apparatus designed to hold her standing upright. There was a pole set into the concrete floor with a T bar across the top. Her legs were bound both together and to that pole, and her waist lashed tightly to the crosspiece at the top so that she could not bend at the waist nor move away from that spot. Her arms were bound behind her with thin cord, the elbows tight together, painfully so, and the wrists corded below that. An additional rope from her wrists around her thighs and the pole held her arms down.
A small wire passed across the floor, up between her legs, to disappear into the black pubic patch that hid her sex. In addition, there was an unusual gag strapped into her mouth. It was a ball gag, much like those normally used around that place to silence slavegirls when the training became too painful. But this one also had attached a small cylinder embedded in the front of the ball.
After spending a miserable night laying on her chest and hips on the gravelly table, and gaining little restful sleep in the process, the Princess had been kept awake all the next day by a combination of sudden, short whippings on her bottom coming unexpectedly, and buckets of cold water thrown upon her naked form as she stood lashed bent over a bar with her bottom sticking up in the air. Those single sudden and very sharp slashes across her bare bottom continued through the night, coming when she least expected them and preventing her from gaining whatever sleep the uncomfortable position would otherwise have granted her.
Then came the morning. After two nights of almost no sleep and a hard day before and after those nights, the lovely Amazon had reached the stage of fatigue and exhausting where she had trouble concentrating or even thinking. Then they tied her with that special gag and the real punishment began.
The cylinder in the gag contained a small mercury switch and a radio transmitter. If the cylinder were tilted, the mercury inside would trigger the switch which would turn on the transmitter. Then an electrical current in the wire going to her pussy would activate and the rod implanted within her sex would come to life. It was a cousin to the pain sticks the guards carried, not as strong but still extremely painful. Especially when delivering it's nerve-shocking stimulus to the most sensitive area of a woman.
During the first few minutes of being left alone in that room, Princess Adrianne had sighed and allowed her head to sag forward. The surprise shock within her sex jerked her head back up. And the pain continued until she realized that she had to hold her head level and still to make it stop. By then she was sweating and her vagina felt as if it were on fire. Whines of disbelief and pain escaped from around the ball gag, but she held her head rigid in fear that the pain would suddenly come to life again.
It was terrible. What she had thought was bad on the muscles of her leg was ten times worse insider her private place. At that point she would have begged, pleaded, even promised anything to be free of the threat of such pain. But there was no one present to accept her acquiescence and submission. There was only the ropes holding her in place and the small silver cylinder that she could just see sticking out of the front of the gag.
Hours crept by very slowly for Princess Adrianne that day. Several times she nodded despite her best efforts not to, and those times she was jolted back to full awareness by terrible pain shooting into her body. Some times her hands tired to twist under the ropes, fingers seeking any knot they might reach. But the knots were all tied tightly up at her elbows and beyond her reach. Other times she tired to expel the horrible thing from within her loins, but her legs were bound very tightly together and additional rope had been tied through her crotch to insure that the pain stick would not come out.
She did not know it, but it was nearly evening when her main tormentor, Shaden, came in. He looked her over, noting the stress and fatigue in every line of her body. Then he took a position directly in front of her.
"Are you ready to obey, slave?" he asked.
The Princess' eyes shut and a tiny tear formed at one corner. Then she opened them and gave the slightest nod. She knew by then how much tilt it took to set off the pain stick and was careful to avoid it.
"Was that a nod? I can't tell," he said sarcastically. "You'll have to do better than that."
She nodded again, a little deeper but still just within the safety limit.
"Not good enough. I can't tell if you're saying yes or not." She tried to say yes around the gag but the sound bore little resemblance to a word. "I will repeat the question," he said. "Are you ready to obey me, slave? Nod deeply enough so I can see it."
Princess Adrianne swallowed and whined in torment. Then she steeled herself for the terror she knew was coming and nodded her head once, quickly.
Her whole body jerked and she screamed around the ball gag. But she also held her head as still as she could when she again regained control of her muscles.
"That was better, slavegirl. But I like to be sure. Nod again."
Telling herself it was stupid to resist when there was no hope, a once-proud Princess again caused herself incredible pain by nodding her head. And again she screamed into the gag.
"Will you do anything I tell you? Anything?" His grin was wicked as he again asked a question that required a nod to communicate the reply.
She closed her eyes and nodded again. Perhaps the scream was a little less this time. Maybe she was getting used to pain, or maybe the nerves in her sex were becoming overloaded.
"Good. If I untie you, will you lay on the stone floor and spread your legs for me? And then beg me to give you a good screwing?"
She nodded. This time the scream was more of a loud gasp. But the muscles in her flanks and across her stomach were trembling.
"If I told you to take a knife and cut off the breasts of that Rachael girl you like, would you do it?"
The Princess' eyes opened wide. For a long second she looked pleadingly to the man who controlled her future, then she closed her eyes and nodded again.
"I do not believe you," he told her evenly. "But you have made progress. No use rushing things too fast." He turned his eyes towards the dark ceiling to add, "By the Spirits and Gods of Deep Space, I love this work!"
He started to walk out and the Princess whined in protest and question. He turned around to meet her imploring gaze. For a few long seconds he seemed to be considering something. Then he took a few steps back into the room.
"You will do most anything to get that gag out of your mouth," he told her. "But not anything. A real slave will do whatever she's told, no matter what the cost or pain." Suddenly he slapped her face.
She jerked and screamed and was a full two seconds before she could steady her head enough to get the switch to turn off. It had been a very unexpected blow.
Suddenly he smiled and reached behind her head. Unbuckling the strap and removing the ball from her mouth caused the switch to trigger again and for the full ten seconds of so that procedure took she was shaking and crying with the pain. But then he sat the gag down on the floor in a level position and the pain stopped trying to destroy her sex. She was weeping with eyes she had thought held no more tears.
Through those tears she saw his back as he departed the room, and a wonderful wave of relieve and gratitude flowed over her. No longer did she live with the constant treat of terrible pain to reward a wrong move of her head or the simple act of falling asleep. He had taken away the source of her pain and she wept with gratitude.
It did not occur to her that it was also he who had subjected her to that pain in the first place, such was her mental state right then.
No one came to untie her from the pole, so she slept standing up, leaning forward within the confines of her bonds, sleeping despite the pain of tight cords cutting into her body in numerous places.
The Princess did not know it, but she had passed another milestone on her road to becoming a slavegirl.
CHAPTER SIX
How to Become a Slaver
The trip to see Rosin Nea Grayscalp took only two days. I would love to be able to say that I spent most of the waking hours inventing new sex games with the four lovely female creatures with whom I shared the confines of the star ship. I would love to say that, but I'd be lying. Truth is that I spent a lot of time in my cabin wondering what was going on in the other cabins. There seemed to be a lot of traffic between the Captain's cabin and that of my three clients. And at all hours of the day and night.
There must be a Great God of the Universe. And he must hate me. Have you ever heard that old expression, "So near yet so far?"
I spent a lot of time plotting my revenge, a revenge that was sure to come once we jumped for Kronos and I had those three in "costume" for their parts as slavegirls for sale. I cannot tell you of the many scenes I envisioned in which those three were dressed in very scanty costumes and wore shackles and forced to do my bidding. Sigh....
If my clients thought that Homeport on Cetious IV was the big city compared to their Wolfhome, they had a lot to learn when we landed on Smoo-Tau VI. We were just one of a thousand ships using that one port, and a huge city sprawled along the coast covering at least a hundred square miles. At least the sight of skyscrapers and thousands upon thousands of people humbled them a bit. At least it quieted them.
Rosin, with whom I had done business twice before, had a penthouse a modest half way up one of those towers. I called to make sure he knew we were coming. We were going to see Grayscalp because he knew most of the shady dealers in this part of the galaxy and didn't mind selling information-for a price.
The door was opened by a lovely Rigilan miss, just as tall as my clients and done out in a semi-transparent gossamer dress that left little to the imagination, and whose soft lavender set off her pale blue skin very well. She looked us up and down as I did the same to her, then we were invited in. I knew that the little pause at the door was to give his scanners time to check us for weapons, bombs, etc. Grayscalp had enemies.
The Rigilan waved a graceful hand towards a table just inside the door. I slowly removed the blaster from my belt and placed it here. Captain Eddie put hers down without being told to and turning to my clients, I suggested they do the same. Their blasters soon rested next to mine but they made no move to detach the swords. I looked to the receptionist. She waved us on. Apparently Grayscalp didn't feel too threatened by cold steel in a universe filled with blasters.
"Welcome to my humble home," came a voice from beyond the next doorway. The humble home had paintings hanging on the wall that would cost more than I'd made in my whole life. The carpet was so soft that the girl's high heel boots sank into it. Soft music drifted down from somewhere and the very air was perfumed. All was done in shades of lavender and gray with the only touches of color being some large blood red flowers and the flowing puce robes of Grayscalp that swirled around him as he came towards us. I don't know his sexual orientation but this was one man who came across like he was trying his hardest to be a woman. His robes were silky and flowing, his hair long and half way between ash and blonde, and his lips full and red. Yet he didn't lisp or seem to be trying to act feminine. And he didn't have a gray scalp, that was a family name only.
"Please do sit down," he said with a wave of his arm towards cushions piled around a fireplace. There was no fire in it and it looked as if there never was. Which ruined the scene. "Can I get you some drinks? Jasimine Tea? Genuine Terra coffee? Prune juice? The bone heads love that."
I told him to cut out the crap and bring out some of the good whiskey made on that planet called Ireland. At least that's what the label said and it was the best whiskey to be found anywhere. He lifted one eyebrow at my uncivilized manners but sent Miss Blueskin away to fetch it. I knew the Wolfhome girls would like it and Captain Eddie ... Well, I still wasn't sure about her.
With a large glass of chilled whiskey to sip from, and from my position half enveloped in a cushion that seemed to be trying to eat me, I explained our problem. Grayscalp listen politely, nodding his head from time to time. "So I figured you were the best man to tell us how to dress and act so we can get onto Kronos and into the slave trade," I finished up, then waited for his answer.
He pursed his large, soft lips and sucked in air. "Well, it can be done," he finally announced. "But it will be very dangerous. Very dangerous."
I could see Thala was about to explain how little they worried about danger, so I raised a hand to stop her. I had told them to let me do all the talking, and I hoped they would. "We accept that. It is important to my clients and their world."
"You will have to appear in every respect as legitimate a slaver," he continued. "And there's no better way to do that than to actually be a slaver." His feminine features settled into an amused" smirk.
Thala raised an eyebrow in my direction which I interrupted as her asking if this man meant I should really sell them as real slaves. Captain Eddie just swirled her drink and keep looking into the brown liquid.
My mind was racing furiously. "You mean we should actually buy some slaves and have them as cargo when we reach Kronos?" I asked.
Grayscalp nodded slowly. "I can tell you much of what you will need to know to pass yourself off as a slaver, but there is not substitute for real slaves. These three lovely women can, of course, play the part of freshly captured slaves, not yet trained. Those are called raws. But it would raise eyebrows on Kronos if you were to come in with only them as your cargo. Some trained slaves, at least as many as untrained, would make a much more believable picture." He gently lifted one eyebrow in the silent question, "Don't you agree?"
I had to admit that there was logic in his view. And that was both because it was true, and because it suddenly dawned on me that he was suggesting I load up the ship with at least three more women-this time women trained to please a man. Suddenly this was looking more interesting.
"Is slave trading really that common out here on the rim?" asked Captain Eddie. She was trying to act casual but I could tell she was having trouble believing this whole scene.
"Oh, yes, my dear. The capture and trading of human lives has been with our race as long as recorded history. It is human nature to wish to own other humans." He paused with his fingers forming a steeple before his lips. "Of course, the urge is mostly sexual, but it is very strong and is in full flower in this days of non-existent central authority. Yes, dear Captain, there are many planets where slavery is not only legal but encourages. This Kronos is one. Every woman there is a slave, some a little less than others, but all are slaves. And there are many, many other male-dominated cultures among the stars.
"Oh, dear, don't take offense, my dears," he said in mock alarm at the Wolfhome girls' frowns. "There are also many worlds were the women rule, as it is fit that some women should. But we are most certainly not talking about those worlds now, are we?"
I'll admit this about Grayscalp, he was smooth. He had just told three men hating, sword carrying Amazons that most of the universe was male dominated, and made them forego their anger at the very thought.
We talked a bit more about details of what we would need to get and do, then Thala broke in with, "How real will we have to be treated as slaves?"
Grayscalp lifted an eyebrow again. "I thought that was perfectly clear, my dears. You will have to be treated exactly as what you are posing as-wild, freshly captured women from a backwater planet."
My three clients looked at each other nervously. "Yes, my dears," Grayscalp went on, "that does mean that you will have to be restrained in shackles and bonds. And," he lifted a finger to emphasize the point, "they must be very real. Those on Kronos who handle slavegirls will know instantly if anything is amiss."
I could have kissed Grayscalp. I couldn't have written a script any better.
Sensing their unease, he then closed the argument better than I could ever have. "Unless, of course, you women cannot perform this simple act. I am sure that it will require an exceptional degree of bravery."
I could see their mouths tighten and knew the battle was won. I now had three slavegirls for our little masquerade.
Seemingly laughing behind those pale gray eyes, he continued, "I will teach Adjuster O'Connor what he needs to know. After that, I suggest you put yourselves in his hands. If he learns properly, it will be easy for you after the shackles are on."
I could sense the double meaning in his words, and had to wonder if they did. What he was saying was that once I had them chained and bound, there was little they could do about it. They would not only look like real slaves, they would be. Of course, it meant that I would have to keep them restrained at all time with no chance for them to rebel and free themselves. That's what a real slaver would do. And those men on Kronos could spot a fake immediately.
I was getting to like this assignment more and more.
We talked some more and the whiskey glasses were refilled silently by Miss Blueskin. I knew that the Wolfhome girls' pride and dedication would force them to go through with this charade. But what about Captain Eddie? Unquestionably there had developed a relationship between her and the three of them over the last few days. How would see take to seeing her friends and lovers chained and imprisoned? I couldn't read her thoughts at all, her face failed to reflect whatever emotions this scene brought forth.
We haggled about a price for his services, but not too much. It was my client's money after all, and besides, the whiskey was good. Grayscalp promised to send over material that I would need to study, arrange for contacts on worlds where I could pick up the rest of my cargo, and prepare a list of supplies I would need. I knew he wasn't talking about coffee and flour, and my sexually frustrated brain began throwing up visions of metal shackles, leather restraints and good, old fashion rope, all applied to those lovely Amazonian bodies. Maybe it was the whiskey, but those visions were looking awfully good.
"There is only one other problem," said Grayscalp after most loose ends had been tied up. "Captain Eddie Wilks, you are a female."
Eddie looked up with eyes only slightly glassy from a couple glasses of good whiskey, and said, "No shit!"
"The men of Kronos consider all women as less than men, and would never accept a female star ship captain."
"You're not suggesting that I Find another charter?" I asked, not quite sure which way he was heading this conversation.
"No, adjuster, that will probably not be necessary."
"Hey, you're not suggesting that I turn my ship over to this two bit adjuster from a backwater world and become one of the slavegirls! No way, buddy!"
Grayscalp sighed. "That would be a good answer, but, no dear, I am not suggesting that. For these ladies it is required, but it is not your Princess who has been taken. Were it possible, I would offer that you might disguise yourself as a man ... But that would take some doing," he mused while looking at her fine display of frontal development. "So I would suggest that you let Adjuster O'Connor do all the talking to the spaceport authorities and you stay hidden in your ship until your task is finished."
Captain Eddie didn't look happy with that but couldn't seem to come up with a better suggestion.
We made our departure with the Amazons walking straighter lines than the Captain or I.
The young handmaiden to Princess Adrianne, one Melinda by name, was looking very nervous. But then she had every right to look nervous that morning. She was tightly bound to a pole, which in itself wasn't too unusual in the training areas, but the pole had. been tilted and moved over a rather deep and unpleasant hole in the floor. The naked teenager was face down on the underside of the pole, her arms tied behind it and enough rope wrapped around her body to hold her firmly affixed to the four inch diameter metal pole. And actually she was not in very much discomfort from the ropes holding her weight. What bothered her very much was the thin wire that had been looped around each nipple and tied quite firmly. Those two wires passed in a gentle curve over to the edge of the pit she hovered over and were tied to a rather large hunk of metal there. It was a bar of lead with a hole drilled in one end for the wires to be attached to. Melinda couldn't guess at its weight but from the clunk it had made while placed there, she knew it was heavy. After she was in position, that big man with the black beard had pushed the weight over until it rested with almost half it's length over the edge of the pit. It was an obvious indication to the naked girl that the weight might be pushed over with disastrous results for her poor tits.
For almost two hours she hung there, not comfortable but a little more at ease since there was no one around to give that weight the tiny shove it would take to make it fall. The pit beneath her went so far down that she couldn't see the bottom in the darkness. If the weight fell, the small amount of slack in the wires would cause a terrible jerk, perhaps enough to cut right through the tender girl flesh. If not, then she would be forced to endure a horribly heavy pull upon her nipples, and there would be nothing she could do about it.
She heard footsteps returning and with them her nervousness. It was the ugly man with the beard and with him was Princess Adrianne, whom she had been serving only a few days before. She gasped to see what the beautiful Princess looked like now. Her hair was not the usual long, shinning black tresses Melinda had so loved to brush. Now it was disheveled and messy. The Princess was also naked and her arms were attached behind her in a leather device that fitted from her fingertips up to above her elbows and held her arms tightly together. There were laces from the wrists up and two straps that went up and over her shoulders to keep the device from slipping down. There remained whipmarks in various stages of fading over much of her body, but especially covering that wonderfully rounded bottom. The Princess looked like anything but royalty.
"You said yesterday that you would obey me," said Shaden as soon as they stopped by the edge of the pit. "Now we will test this. Look at his girl and the way that weight perched on the edge."
Princess Adrianne looked up to Melinda and then her eyes followed the wires down to the weight. It didn't take her very long to realize the danger to her handmaiden. Her eyes opened wider with fear.
"I see you understand. Good. Now I'm giving you an order. You are to push that weight over the edge with your foot. It will not take much, just a little shove."
The Princess looked up at her keeper with a frown. "But that will hurt Melinda ... I mean it will do her damage," she said.
"True. Those wires are rather thin and a girl's nipples can only take so much."
"Would you so damage a slavegirl?" asked the Princess, hoping to appeal to his business sense. "Damaged goods bring in less money."
"Part of the overhead," he casually returned. Then he laughed good naturedly. "Oh, a pun! The girl is truly overhead! See, she's above us."
The Princess did not share his amusement.
"Okay, so you aren't in the mood for a good joke. But I hope you're in the mood to obey me."
She looked down at the lead weight only a few inches away from her foot. It certainly did look as if it would not take a great deal of effort to push it over. But the Princess had been refreshed by a night's sleep in only metal shackles, and retained some of her old spirit. Without looking at him, she softly said, "I cannot. Do with me as you will, but it will not be my hand that causes such harm to one of my people."
"It won't be your hand," he laughed, "but your foot! Still, your message is clear. The promise you made yesterday was worthless. You have a long way to go in your training."
He placed his toe next to the weight and nudged it half an inch farther out. "Do you remember the pain yesterday? Do you remember how each movement of your head brought more pain inside you? Would you like to return to that?"
"No, Sir," she whispered. "Then push the weight."
"I cannot."
"Very well. Let us continue your training." His hand upon her leather-clad arms guided her towards the door. But he paused just outside in the hallway. "Forgot something," he said.
A second later there was a loud scream echoing in the room. The Princess' body jerked at the sound but she did not look around. "Oh...! No! NO! NO!" came the pitiful cries from behind her. "Please no! It hurts so much!"
"You were too pessimistic," said Shaden as he again clamped a strong hand upon her arm above were the leather held them tightly. "A girl's nipples can take much more than you imagine."
For a long ways down the hall the Princess could hear the screams from the tortured girl. But finally the sounds faded away as they worked their way towards whatever destination he had in mind.
The Princess had expected to be returned to the room where she had been tied in the standing position with the pain stick inside her. But she was not. Instead she was taken into a room with one wall missing. For the first time in many days she saw the sun. It wasn't the golden, warm sun of Wolfhome, but it was at least warm, natural light if a little too red for her comfort.
There was very little in the room save for a stout beam of wood that extended from the ceiling out into the open space. Along the bottom of the beam was a metal track. At the inside end of the beam, a metal ring was set into the track. There was a length of rope passing through that ring, one end simply sitting on the floor, the other wrapped around a large drum.
Shaden guided her over to the opening where she found herself looking down hundreds of feet. They were in an outside room of a building perched on the edge of a cliff, overhanging that cliff, in fact. Far down below she could see a river winding through a canyon. But right under the edge on which they stood was a drop straight down to ragged rocks at least two hundred feet below. She tried to back away but his hand held her firm.
"This training facility used to be a castle," he informed casually. "An ancestral home of my family, actually. From this room and that beam my fathers and their fathers used to hang prisoners. Some were executions, but some were simply being tormented by hanging from a great height. Of course, in the last few hundred years, we haven't done as much warring with our neighbors, and have turned to training slavegirls instead. So this room was fixed up with that pulley as a sort of torture device."
He stopped talking and pushed her down to the stone floor. Then he took a length of rope and bound her ankles together tightly. Then he looped the rope from the ring between her legs and around that rope binding her ankles, and knotted several times very tightly. Then he stood and went to a small control panel set into one wall.
"I've added a nice touch to it," he said with some pride. "Instead of just hanging the slavegirl over a big drop, I let her feel what it's like to actually fall." He paused to grin and enjoy the look of fear on her face. "This rope is elastic." He touched a button and the drum began winding up. The rope grew taunt and then pulled on her ankles. Slowly she was lifted up until she was hanging upside down completely off the floor. She was biting her lips and trying not to whine in fear.
Shaden picked up a short length of cord and looped it around her waist tightly. Then he passed the rope between her legs and through a small ring at the end of the leather sheath covering her arms, back between the legs and the up to be knotted at her waist. "That's to keep your arms from flopping around," he informed, then returned to his console.
"You probably have never heard of it but back on ancient Earth, long before star flight, there was a sport where people used to jump off heights with elastic cords attached to their feet. The idea was that they would enjoy the adrenaline rush of falling through the air but be safe because the cord would slow down and stop their fall before they banged their heads at the bottom. It was called 'Bungee Jumping." Didn't last too long, as most fads do. But it gave me an idea."
He touched another button and the ring moved slowly outward, bringing the hanging, naked woman with it. The Princess gasped as the floor under her slid away to be replaced by a terrible long fall. She grew dizzy and closed her eyes. For a while he was content to simply watch her hang there. She swung a bit but settled down. She could feel both the warm sunlight and the slight breeze upon her bare skin. Finally she opened her eyes.
"There is a computer here," he continued in a little louder voice so she could hear him. "It calculates your weight and exactly how much elastic cord to let out before stopped the drum and your fall. If the calculations are correct, you'll reach a few feet from the rocks below at your lowest point. If not ... Well, you know the saying, 'In Computers we Trust.'" He laughed.
"And this will happen not once but repeatedly. Until someone comes to fetch you back in." He loved the look of fear in her eyes, it was so very real. "Have a nice day," he said, then pushed the red button.
Her royal Princess Adrianne screamed as the rope suddenly became totally slack and she fell. She screamed as the air rushed by her face and at the sickening sight of rocks rushing up to smash her to pulp. Then there was a sudden jerk and her downward flight slowed. At about ten feet from the jagged rocks she Was jerked back up. For a dozen times she bounced up and down at the end of hundreds of feet of elastic cord, like a human yo-yo. Then the cord began winding back in and she slowly was lifted.
Adrenaline rush was not a very good term to describe it. Pure, raw fear was closer. No human can fall from a great height and not feel a primitive, instinctual fear of the most major proportions.
At the top she saw a grinning Shaden and wanted very much to plead with him for no more of this terror. But she was still a Princess of the warrior women aid there was still some pride left in that naked and bound body. Telling herself harshly that he would not really damage good merchandise, she forced a smile to her face and told him in mock cheerful tones, "That was fun. I can see why the ancient Earth people did it as a sport."
She was lying and they both knew it.
Shaking his head and still smiling, Shaden pointed one finger upward so she could see it. Then with elaborate ceremony, he brought the finger back over to the red button.
The Princess screamed again as she fell. It was instinct and she couldn't help it.
When she returned to the top she was surprised to find the room empty. For a minute she hung there, just enough time to begin to wonder if that was all there was going to be to it. Just hang there until he returned. Then she was dropped again.
The pattern repeated itself all morning. At times she could see some of the guards looking over the railing at her. They seemed amused by the way she screamed each time the rope suddenly went slack.
But human are adaptable. After twenty or thirty falls, Princess Adrianne stopped screaming. After forty she stopped worrying that the knots on the ropes tied around her ankles would fail and there would be nothing to stop her fall. After fifty times the fall no longer made her tremble with fear. She never really got to the point where she enjoyed it, the pain in her ankles each time she was snubbed by the ropes, and the jerking around her body took as it danced at the end of its rope were too unpleasant. But the raw fear of falling faded away from over exposure. Humans can get used to anything.
Shortly after noon she was taken in, led to another dungeon room, tied spread-eagle in a metal framework and her bottom and back whipped with a small leather beastie that stung like hell but didn't cut the skin. She was left crying and hanging with wide spread arms and legs for the rest of the day.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Preparations and Whipped Bottoms
I bought the items Grayscalp had put on the list. Did you know that there is a chain of stores called "Whips 'R' Us?" All kinds of shackles, ropes, collars and oh, those whips! I filled the shopping list while Captain Eddie oversaw the conversion of another of the cabins in the ship into slave cells. She didn't like her ship being converted into a slaver ship but enough bonus money was added to her contract so that she could convert it back and add some niceties when this case was over. That removed the objections over the ship being changed, but she still grumbled a lot about what she was to become, even if it was only, temporary and for a good cause.
I gave Thala, Rhonda and Fauna directions for finding the local Western Union office so they could send a message back to Wolfhome. Then I had to explain that I didn't know what "Western Union" meant, but it was a very old company. I hoped they wouldn't get into trouble on the way. The subspace radio in the Golden Girl just didn't have the power to punch a signal more than a few light years.
When the got back I had the delightful task of showing them their new quarters. They were not happy. I guess there is something about rings set in the wall to attach shackles, an iron barred door that could be locked from the outside, and bare walls designed only to hold human cargo that doesn't sit well with Amazon warrior women. And the fact that I had laid out some of those shinning new shackles on the thinly padded bunks didn't go over too well, either.
I commandeered one of the storage lockers to hold the extra restrains. Rhonda saw me loading three dozen coils of rope, a dozen handcuffs, assorted locks and three full body harnesses into the locker. But that didn't upset her as much as the assortment of five different kinds of whips. A minute later Thala was breathing down my neck.
"They're just for show!" I protested. "Just show. Slavers have to have whips. It's part of keeping the cargo under control. Just show...."
She gave me a look that plainly said if I tried to use one of those whips on my three clients, there would be a slave revolt and one very sorry Slave Master.
I kind of liked that title, Slave Master. It was the standard title for those who made their living catching and transporting human cargo. They might not like it, but for a while at least I would have my Amazonian clients calling me "Master." Too bad it wouldn't be for real.
Deliveries were made of documents and tapes from Grayscalp. I studied them carefully. All of our lives would depend upon my passing as a legitimate slave trader. At least long enough to get up to Kronos. And for however long it would take us to find the Princess.
Grayscalp was as good as his word. I had letters of introduction to several slave traders on Wahoo Base III, one of the better known slave trading ports. He even included instructions on how to pick the right kind of slaves to interest the Kronosians. I had several tapes of real slavers showing off their wares. It surprised me how beautiful some of those slaves were. I could see why a rich man would spend a small fortune to own one. There was something about the idea of owning a beautiful woman who's only purpose was to please me. I think it's instinctual to men.
But I kept my mouth shut around my clients and Captain Eddie.
The evening before we jumped, I was in the lounge studying some documents when Captain Eddie came in and sat down next to me. For a while I ignored her but it quickly became obvious that she wanted to talk.
"What can I do for you?" I opened.
"I've been thinking about this charter," she said. That was the way she addressed our little adventure, as a charter. I thought of it as a "case." To the Wolfhome girls it was a holy crusade.
"It is dangerous, isn't it?" she continued.
I put down the papers and leaned back. A flip remark about my laughing at danger came to my lips but died there. Instead I quietly and honest admitted, "Yes, it is. Actually, it's a stupid idea and I'll probably get killed. And the girls will wind up as real slaves for the rest of their lives."
She didn't say anything for a moment, so I continued, "You've got the easy part. You stay hidden in the ship. Be ready to jump fast if we come hurrying if we come running with the local law hot on our tails. If the shit hits the fan, you jump as fast as you can and get out of there. Understand?"
She nodded and looked at me in a way she never had before. It wasn't admiration but might have been a close kin.
"I mean it," I said. "You're just a hired ship's owner. We're hiring you to provide transportation for us, not get into a fire fight. And not to be captured and made into a slave yourself. From what Grayscalp says, those guys on Kronos are a mean bunch. And they play for real."
"Don't worry, I'll jump so fast they won't see me go. But O'Connor, why are you doing this?"
"It's a job." I tried not to sound like one of those hard-boiled detectives in the ancient movies but probably failed.
"Is it the money?" she countered. "Is money worth dying for?"
"Nothing's worth dying for," I said. "Not money, planet, religion or even love." I took a deep breath and tried to find words to explain why I was doing this. There weren't any. "Maybe I'm just crazy. Maybe I've got some old fashion sense of honor. The girls came to me and asked me to help them. I said I would. It's that simple."
For a few long seconds she looked into my eyes. I couldn't tell what was going on behind those lovely eyes of hers. "Maybe you are crazy," she finally said. But it wasn't in an accusing tone. "Maybe we're all crazy. All humans, I mean."
"Probably. The Zedians on Karlaus believed that humans were gods when we first landed there. After a few years they decided we were crazy demons and kicked us off their planet."
There isn't much else you can add after you conclude that your whole species is crazy, so we changed the subject.
"Are the girls going to make believable slaves," she asked with a glance back towards their quarters.
"I hope so. At least they'll look like freshly captured slaves. Wild women chaffing at the bit. That role won't be too hard for them to play."
"They won't like it. They're a proud race. And their world is a beautiful place. It won't be easy for them to turn into slaves, even for a short time."
"I'm sure it isn't easy for Princess Adrianne right now," I said. "And there was more than twenty girls kidnapped with her. Our girls will do their part. And maybe being treated like a slave for a while will help motivate them. Besides," I added with a grin, "once I get the shackles on the, they'll have little choice, won't they?"
"O'Connor, you take it easy on those girls."
"Captain, I have no intention of hurting them one tiny bit more than needed. But you do realize that I have to play the part and they have to look like real captives."
"I understand that. We have talked about it. And I've been reading some of those papers you have. And the videos."
She didn't have to say anything more. She was telling me that she knew what was expected and the girls did also. I nodded.
The Golden Girl jumped at dawn and hauled her tail for Wahoo at warp eight.
The Princess didn't sleep well that night. They had placed her in a small cage, so small that she had to sit with her legs drawn up and head bowed. Her hands were joined behind her in shinning steel handcuffs. Another pair were locked on her ankles, but both of them were just for show. The cage had stout steel bars and two padlocks. She would not be fighting her way out. But the handcuffed wrists and ankles were a part of the mentality in that place, part of the "overkill" designed to make a girl feel more than just helpless.
Having lost count of the number of days she had been imprisoned in that terrible place was only one of the mental changes happening to not only the Princess but the other girls who had been captured with her. Most of them had been reduced to the same state as the Princess, worn down, mentally fatigued, and "softened up" enough to begin molding their minds into new channels. Enough pain over long enough period and a total lack of hope will do that to a girl.
When the cage was unlocked she could hardly stand and was helped to her feet. Then came along shuffle on handcuffed feet down to a room where she received her usual cold water shower, then a quick dry by hot air blasted from nozzles in the wall. A quick meal of nutritious but bland food and she was ready for a new day of tortures.
After a long walk down a stone corridor, the Princess was led through a door and into a room much unlike what she had expected, and no very much like a torture chamber. Rich purple curtains hung from the walls of the large chamber and the floor was carpeted in a light blue, and very soft under her bare feet. A couple low tables and four chairs were placed around a central area. One of the chairs was occupied by Shaden himself. The only other person in the room was a naked woman kneeling in the middle of the room. Her legs were folded under her and her arms were held behind her back, wrists crossed but unbound. Her back was straight but her head bowed, her long black hair falling to almost cover her breasts. Princess Adrianne recognized the girl even with her face down turned. It was Rachael, the one who's nipples her toes had been wired to at one time.
She looked to those nipples as she came close. They seemed perhaps a bit larger than normal but otherwise unharmed by their ordeal of the wire. The Princess had to suppress a shutter because seeing Rachael reminded her of Melinda the day before and that terrible scream as the lead weight pulled her nipples tied with the same thin wire. Again she wondered if Melinda's nipples had survived intact.
Noting the lack of restraints upon her young friend, the Princess wondered what was going on. The whipmarks upon her bottom were fresh, indicating that the young girl had been punished recently, probably the day before.
Without orders, the guards unlocked her handcuffs and brought her hands around in front. There they were bound with rope, side by side. There came a humming sound and a metal ring lowered itself from the ceiling. Her wrists were tied to that ring solidly, then the guards removed the handcuffs joining her ankles and left the room.
The humming sound again came and she watched her hands lifted before her face as the rope retreated into a hole in the ceiling. Up and up it went until she was balanced on tiptoe, then it halted. From her stretched out position, she looked to Shaden to see what would come next.
"The training of all the girls we captured that night has continued. Most are responding nicely. This one, the one you call Rachael is farther along than the others." He remained in his chair and toyed with the three buttons set into the arm rest. "Today I'm going to test just how far she has come."
The Princess glanced down but Rachael had not move the slightest.
"Slave...." Shaden said softly. Instantly Rachael answered the quiet summons.
"Yes, Master?" she said without lifting her eyes.
He tossed a wicked looking little whip onto the carpet before her. "Take that whip and stand up," he ordered.
Her hand came around from behind her back and slowly picked up the whip by the leather-wound handle. Then she rose to her feet gracefully.
"You see the one you call Princess before you?" he asked.
For the first time Rachael turned her eyes to Princess Adrianne but there was little sign of recognition, no emotion of any kind, on her face.
"You will take that whip and strike her bottom with it."
Rachael move a few steps until she was positioned for a blow across the rounded bottom of her royal leader. Her hand slowly came back with the whip in it, then paused. Shaden watched with interest from his chair. The Princess did not look back but kept her eyes on the floor just beyond where her toes dug into the plush carpet. She fully expected the whip to came cutting across her bottom.
Rachael's arm trembled as if opposing forces were at war within, then the whip dropped to the carpet with a soft thud.
"I cannot do it, Master. She is a Princess. I would rather die than strike the royal person."
The delivery was surprisingly flat considering the terrible emotions that must have been churning around inside her mind.
Shaden smiled and rose from the chair. "You do know that failure to obey a Master's order always results in punishment, don't you?"
"Yes, Master."
"And you have seen and felt the punishments in this place?"
"Yes, Master."
"Do you remember the pain stick?"
Rachael shuttered, unable to suppress her feelings at the memory of that terrible pain inside her private place. But she answered calmly, "Yes, Master."
"Then why do you not whip the bottom of this woman? You can see from the fading marks that she has been whipped many times before. And by stronger arms than yours."
"She is a Princess, Master. I cannot do it."
"Even if it means the intense pain for a whole day?"
"Yes, Master."
Shaden rubbed his beard with one hand. This was not unexpected. He knew that the young girl's training was not complete, and actually would have been surprised if she had whipped her mistress. His assessment of their culture indicated that proper treatment of royalty was paramount.
"Slave Adrianne," he said, addressing the woman in semi-suspension, "do you believe that this girl will be horribly punished for her failure here?"
"I believe it," she replied for it was the truth.
"And would you like to see her avoid that?"
"Yes...." She was puzzled as to where this was leading.
"Then order her to whip you."
She was surprised and silent. What a dilemma he had created for both of them. Rachael did not want to whip her Princess but she would also not think of disobeying a direct order. And the Princess herself would rather not give the command to have her own flesh punished.
She thought as hard as she could but could find no way out. So she sighed and then turned her eyes to Rachael. "Rachael, dear, please whip my bottom," she said softly. "That is an order."
Rachael's eyes were animated for the first time. She looked from her Princess to the man who controlled their lives and back. She understood that the Princess was willing to sacrifice her bottom to the pain of the whip to save her much worse pain. But to strike the royal person ...!
Trembling, she reached down and picked up the whip. Her hand went back, trembled for a second, then came forward. The leather thongs softly tapped the bare flesh.
"Harder!" commanded Shaden. "Much harder. Hit her with all the strength you have."
Rachael threw the whip to the floor and fell to her knees, crying into cupped hands over her face. "I cannot do it!" she cried.
Shaden grinned. Things were going as he had expected.
A clap of his hands brought two guards hurrying into the room. "Secure her," he told them, pointing to the crying girl on the floor. "Bind her hands in front of her, then tie them to the same ring."
Quickly they did as ordered, binding Rachael's wrists in front of her, then placing her face to face with the Princess. The rope was lowered from the ceiling until the ring was within reach, then her wrists tied tightly to it. when the ring retreated into the ceiling for a second time, it left the Princess on her toes and Rachael's feet completely off the floor.
The two women were pressed together as they hung from the same ring, their naked breasts and bellies held in contact by gravity. Their faces were only an inch apart.
"Your refusal gained your Princess nothing," Shaden said loudly when the girls were positioned to his liking. "She will still be whipped on the ass. And harder than you could have done it for it will be done by a man's hand. And you will be punished for disobedience, a serious crime for a slavegirl."
At a signal from their Master, one of the guards picked up the whip and struck the Princess across the bottom with a sudden and painful blow. She gasped and jerked forward, which pushed her body hard against Rachael's.
Rachael looked up to see the pain in her mistress' eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry, Mistress." Then she lowered her eyes and buried her face against the Princess' shoulder.
Shaden touched a button and the rope lifted then both another foot of the floor so that neither pair of feet could touch. Then he picked up another whip from the floor by his chair and tossed it to the second guard. "Whip them both. Cover them from their waists down to the backs of their knees. But make sure that not the tiniest portion of the bottoms escapes the whips."
He watched as the first strokes were applied, listened to the cries of anguish, and savored the jerking of bare legs in response to fiery pain exploding over old whipmarks. It was beautiful.
The guards took turns so that each girl would feel the jerk and pain in the other without being interfered with by her own pain. Slowly they covered the assigned territory with strong male slashes that turned the skin red and marked it with slowly rising welts.
The whipping continued for over an hour. Both girls were exhausted and had run out of tears before the last stroke had landed. Their backs burned from knees to waist with a fire and an ache that was terrible to have to endure. At times the bare feet kicked out at their tormentors, but these men were experienced in the tormenting of a woman's ass and stayed out of range.
Finally the task was done. Shaden had long before left but with the promise that he would return later to inspect the damage. The guard's last act before they too left for other tasks was to attach ropes to each ankle and then pulled them apart to be tied to rings in the walls hidden behind the curtains. The girls leg's were spread as widely as the men could pull, in an uncomfortable position that exposed their sex.
After the guards left, the Princess quietly told Rachael that she loved her and some day they would be free of this torment. Rachael did replied that surely it would be so but inside doubted that most seriously.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Newly Shackled Slavegirls
Wahoo Prime was much more crowded than I had ever imagined. Apparently slavery was a very big business out on the rim. Hundreds of ships filled the landing grid and the Golden Girl was almost lost among the larger transports. And on the way in I noted a dozen very large ships tethered to Wahoo Orbital Dock One, along with dozens of shuttle craft rising from the atmosphere or dipping into it.
Once safely landed, I called everyone into the lounge and set down some new rules. We were now full into our roles as slaver and slaves. There were over two million people in Prime, most slaves but a great many others. From that point on we would have to play the part totally. There was always a chance of someone from Kronos seeing us. Or someone who might tell someone from Kronos, etc.
This meant that Captain Eddie was going to have to disappear into her cabin if there was any chance of someone seeing her. And the girls were going to have to become slaves-from that moment until we rescued the Princess and made our escape from Kronos.
Three tall, well muscled, gorgeous Amazons looked at each other. Then Thala rose from her seat. "We have discussed this," she said formally. "And we have viewed the tapes and books given you. We understand." She unbuckled her sword belt and laid it upon the table. Then the blaster and the small knife they hide, and another knife that I hadn't been aware of from her boot. Her leather body armor followed. Then, with a glance to the others, she reached up and untied the rawhide thong just above the swell of her large breasts. She pulled the vest-like shirt apart then lifted it over her head.
A couple seconds later the skirt of black leather was laid on the table beside the shirt.
May I take a moment to tell you how incredibly perfect these Amazon warrior women are? They stay in shape and it was a wonderful shape to begin with. Breasts that big should sag or at least give lip service to gravity, but they don't. And those flat tummies ... Curved asses....
Thala turned to me and put her hands on her hips to take a defiant stance. Behind her the other girls began disrobing.
"You had better get the shackles," said Thala. The way she said it, it was an order but I didn't mind. I wiped the drool from my chin with a sleeve and went to the storage area where I had stashed all the slaver gear.
When I came back all three of them were naked, a sight which made certain parts of my anatomy want to stand at attention. Being in close quarters on a small star ship with three lovely ... No, make that four, gorgeous females and not getting a chance to prove to any of them that I was a real man is hard on a male body. I approached Thala with a pair of shinning new handcuffs.
She put out her hands in front of her, fingers folded into fists. I placed one half crescent of steel against the bottom of one wrist and swung the top half over. It clicked loudly in the quiet lounge. I had been reading about these kind and knew that they had built in sensors that would automatically pull the hinged half snug against the skin. And hold it there. Only the magnetic key could unlock that cuff. And I had the only keys in my pocket.
For a second I hesitated. Thala was my client and paying me and therefore my boss on this case. She had put her hands in front of her, wrists separated by six inches, obviously telling me that she wanted her wrists joined in that manner. But that was not the way it was done-at least not according to what I had read and seen. And it was not logical to keep slavegirls who were big enough, strong enough, and trained as warriors with their hands locked in front of them. Far too easy for them to strike their master.
I took a firm hold of the connecting chain and stepped around behind her, bringing her shackled wrist with me. Then I reached around to take her other arm firmly. I pulled and that arm came, but reluctantly for a second. Then she made a small sound that might have been a sigh, and her arms came behind her easily. I locked the second cuff on and watched as it snuggled itself down.
I don't know what their training is like on Wolfhome, but this woman seemed very uneasy at having her hands locked behind her. Perhaps she was also uneasy at having a man do it. The only men I saw during our brief visit to Wolfhome were poor examples of manhood, small in stature, and docile as hell.
I decided that perhaps I would give her a little time to get used to the restrains on her wrists before I attached a pair of leg irons on her ankles.
Fauna turned and presented her wrists behind her. I locked them in place. Rhonda did the same, both without saying a word.
I stood back and tried not to look like I was admiring the scene. It was lovely! Three wonderful sexy woman, all with their arms secured behind them. I happened to glance over at Captain Eddie and was amazed to see the intensity with which she was staring at the girls. It was almost as if she were as turned on by the scene as I was. But, I reminded myself, she had been playing lesbian nibbling games with them so she would admire those fine bodies as much as any man.
Since Thala was the leader and showed more fire than the other two, I knelt down with a pair of leg irons in front of Fauna first. They were like the handcuffs but with a little longer chain joining the cuffs, which were slightly larger themselves. Once the ankles were joined with those leg irons, a girl could walk but only by taking small steps, a sort of slavegirl shuffle.
Rhonda accepted her leg irons without comment. Then I brought the third pair over to Thala. As I knelt down, and was attaching the first ankle cuff, she informed me in a voice both stern and stressed, "Remember that we hired you. You work for us."
I looked up and had to pause for a second while I recovered from the view-my nose was only inches from her pubic patch and the promised land hidden within. Then I answered as matter-of-factly as I could, "Of course. I won't forget that."
I locked the other cuff on and retreated to a chair next to Captain Eddie. The three new slavegirls stood there, not seeming to have any idea what to do next. I let them have a little time to get used to this degree of restraints for I knew the next step would not be easy for them. Next to me, Eddie wasn't saying anything, either. Then she surprised me by standing up and firmly announcing, "Shouldn't we be getting these slaves into the cells? Master?"
She looked at me but it wasn't really for confirmation. The slave did belong in their cells and we both knew that. And the slavegirls knew that, too.
"Of course, Captain," I agreed and got up. I almost said, "Ladies, if you will go to your cabin," but then stopped myself. That was not the proper attitude. These girls were merchandise, not ladies. "Get a move on it," I ordered instead. Thala's head snapped up from where she had been studying the shinning silver shackles upon her ankles. It was easy to see that she was about to snap at me. But then she swallowed her pride and shuffled off towards the cabins.
Captain Eddie went ahead to open the doors.
We had cells built into two of the cabins, including the one that the Wolfhome girls had been using. Gone were the comfortable bunks, replaced by small cages made of steel bars welding to the deck and ceiling. Each cell was just big enough to hold one girl and had only a small, hard bench and a ring in the wall about three feet off the deck. Each had a door that swung out and a built-in lock. On the front of the lock was a small touch pad of dull gray material. Touching my index finger to that pad, or Captain Eddie's finger, was the only way to open the door. It was coded to our fingerprints.
Rhonda was the first to arrive and found Eddie holding open her door. I stood by and listened to the metallic tinkling of the chains as they girls shuffled past. Rhonda entered and stood standing there as Eddie closed the door behind her. The shinning steel bars were about six inches apart, so the slavegirls could be watched at all times. Fauna went into her cell and immediately turned to press her big breasts against the bars. She didn't like it, that was obvious.
Thala was the last to be locked in. When the door closed with a soft clang, she visibly shuttered.
I went up to Thala's cell. She had turned around and was sitting on the edge of the metal bench. "I appreciate how hard this is for you," I told her sincerely. And I really meant it. "I will do every thing I can to find and rescue your Princess."
She looked up to me with those dark eyes but said nothing.
When I left, Eddie was talking quietly to Thala.
I changed from ship jumpsuit to clothing more befitting a slaver. The boots were polished black. The pants were tight, black, and of a synthetic leather that was hard to tell from the real thing. The shirt was iridescent blue, opened at the throat. I strapped the blaster to my waist and fitted a communicator on the other side. A vest served as a coat and had two inside pockets for me to carry the important papers, including letters of credit and introductions to two different slave traders. I was about finished when Eddie came into my cabin. I had left the door open, so she didn't have to knock.
"Your clients aren't happy," she said.
"I know that."
"Talon, what are the Kronos men doing to Princess Adrianne?"
I had never heard her call me by my first name before. Nor had she used that quiet voice.
"They're training her to be a docile, obedient slavegirl," I replied. "You've seen the documents and tapes."
"Do you think we can save her in time?"
"In time? Oh, you mean before she graduates from Slave University?"
"Don't joke about it. Yes, I do mean before she's ... What's that word?"
"Broken?"
"Yes, before she's broken in spirit."
I took a breath. "I hope. You know these girls, they're strong. The Princess will hold out as long as any woman can. That's a help."
Captain Eddie had to be satisfied with that, it was all I could offer. I put on the bush hat I was fond of wearing because it made me look rakish, and headed out. As I passed her, she touched my arm. "Take care," she said.
"I will. You make sure that the girls are kept chained and locked in their cells. There's probably some kind of port inspector-most space ports have them. And there may be others with me when I bring back the rest of the cargo. Don't go feeling sorry for the girls and releasing them. They're slaves now, remember that."
She grinned. "You don't have to worry, they won't be set free."
I did a double take. This beautiful captain was very serious. "Well, fine, but don't whip them too hard, either. Remember, they are my bosses," I joked. "Promise?"
I noted as I left the ship that Captain Eddie did not promise not to whip the girls. And I wondered all the way to the main transportation terminal what kind of lesbian relationship those four girls had going. Or that was developing.
The small metal ring was placed over the taunt nipple of Princess Adrianne, just fitting. When the hand holding it was removed, the ring shrank down until it gripped the sensitive flesh in a stranglehold, making the end become shaped like a balloon. Then, when it was quite firmly attached and squeezing, thirty-six tiny needles emerged from the inside edge of the ring, each very sharp but only a fraction of an inch long. Each penetrated the flesh a tiny amount but enough to be felt as three dozen tiny pains.
The Princess moaned as the first ring sank its tiny teeth into her flesh. It hurt but was mild compared to other pains delivered upon her body by the men in that terrible place. A second ring was being placed over her other nipple, and she could do nothing about it.
As was common, she was restrained, this time by ropes that held her solidly against a post. Around and around, criss-crossed and all very tight a large amount of rope held her to the metal post. Her arms were behind it, elbows pulled together, which, of course, made her breasts stick out nicely. She had endured the enforced immobility for two hours before Shaden and a couple of this henchmen came by. The small rings with their tiny but very sharp teeth were put on without a word, and she did not ask why she deserved this additional punishment. It was simply the way of the place.
Shaden seemed amused, a smile tugging at his beard and a slight twinkle in his gray eyes. Which made Princess Adrianne's heart sink. Something was going to happen and it was going to be much more painful than a handful of tiny needles hardly breaking the skin of her nipples. His good humor told her that.
The guards left but returned a few minutes later with two naked woman in tow by the ropes looped around their necks as leashes. The Princess recognized them as members of her private guard, one Helena and one Suzanne by name. She had not seen either girl since the mass kidnapping, and it looked as if both girls had been receiving harsh treatment at the hands of their captors. Helena was bound with wrists crossed behind her back but the Princess could see the collection of whipmarks that covered her bottom, some old, some fresh. The once proud guard walked behind her captor with head bowed as if most of the spirit had gone from her.
Suzanne still showed some spark, a tiny bit of pride and rebellion. Her head was held up, she dared to stare into the eyes of those who held her leash, and she smiled when she saw her Princess, although that smile turned to a frown as she realized her Princess was as whipmarked as any of them.
The two girls were backed up to separate posts directly across from the Princess and bound to them. Both girls had their arms pulled around behind the posts and bound there with rope, elbows tugged tightly together. Then rope was wrapped around their arms and stomachs, and pulled very tightly to both hold them solidly against the pole and to keep their hands behind them.
Nervous glances were exchanged between the three imprisoned women. Each knew that just being left alone, even if uncomfortably bound, would be too much to hope for.
"You have two of your former guards before you," said Shaden grandly. "They're slaves now, of course, but once they were proud member of your elite guard." He paused to motion to one of the keepers. The man produced a small whip with a grin. "The training for all of you continues," he continued. "The infliction of pain, the discomfort and all that will make you into fine slavergirls, eager to serve whoever becomes their Master."
He moved over a step to be closer to Princess Adrianne. "One of them will now be whipped on the breasts." He paused a moment to let that sink in to all three women. "And you, my slavegirl, will decide which one it is to be."
The Princess looked up sharply.
"That's right, slave Adrianne, you will tell us which of these girls is to be whipped across those lovely breasts with that single tong leather whip. And it will not be a light whipping. It will leave marks and will hurt terribly. Well? Which one is it to be?"
The Princess frowned and began to complain that wasn't the pain enough, why torment me this way? And to refuse to play his little game. But she held her tongue for she suddenly knew what he was going to say next.
"I see in your eyes that you can guess what comes next. And you're so right. If you do not chose one girl, then both of them will be whipped. Does it not seem kinder to pick one and spare the other slave a lot of pain?"
Anguish twisted inside the Princess. Neither woman deserved the coming punishment. But then none of them deserved any of the pain given them in this place. How could she decide that one of her loyal guards should suffer a terrible punishment, and the other not be harmed at all. And such a terrible punishment-terrible for any women to have to feel that wicked leather thong across her breasts. The girls looked at each other and to their Princess.
With her eyes and her lips, Helena silently said "Me." It tore at her heart to see another women offering to suffer to save her sister warrior. The Princess turned to Shaden. "Please whip me, Master," she said.
"Oh, no! You don't get off that easy," he chuckled. "That was not one of the options. Choice one girl in the next ten seconds or both will be whipped. Dagette, show them what it will be like."
The guard with the whip, still grinning, suddenly lashed out with his arm to cut the leather thong across Helena's breasts. She screamed and jerked against the ropes. One leg kicked high in the air but her body was held tightly against the post.
Taking a step forward, he brought the whip arm back and then cut a vicious slash across both breasts of Suzanne. She also screamed, she could not help herself. She shook all over and stamped her foot, as if that might ease the sudden and terrible pain in her breasts.
"And give this slavegirl one, too, so she will know," Shaden commanded. The grinning guard came over and happily slashed the Princess' lovely breasts.
The pain was terrible, and a woman's breasts are such a sensitive place. The Princess uttered a loud gasp and then whined at the burning pain in both breasts. Guided by an expert hand, the tong had caught both nipples and each cried out its pain.
The Princess could not kick or stamp her feet for the ropes held her legs quite immobile. But she shook her head back and forth until the pain subsided.
"You now have ten seconds to decide. The slave you pick will have her breasts whipped many times. They will be covered with whip marks, top and bottom and all sides. What you've just felt is only a small sample. So ... Now decide."
Shaden loved the look of fear and anger and pain in the Princess' eyes as she struggled with this dilemma. He laughed and held up one hand, fingers spread wide. "Seven ... Six. ... Five...." he counted slowly. When he said, "Four," one of the fingers came down.
The Princess looked from one suffering girl to the other.
"Three."
They looked back with tears in their eyes. Both wanted to have their friend spared but both also feared the promised pain.
"Two."
The Princess whined like a hurt little girl. "One."
She spoke a name.
"Very good. That wasn't so hard, was it? Don't want to answer me? That's okay, slaves should be seen and not heard. Dagette, you may begin."
The man had done this before. And the whip was a special one made for the whipping of female breasts. It would not mark or cut the flesh the way other whips could, but it could and did deliver a great deal of pain on that tender flesh. He began a slow and regular marking of the beautiful globes, spacing the angry red marks very close together and covering all of the target area. The whip even came up from below to mark the underside.
Suzanne screamed and cried between the screams. Her legs kicked out but could not reach her tormentor. She jerked her body from side to side but the ropes held her firmly available for the kiss of black leather.
The other two woman watched flinched with each slash of the leather, and suffered their own form of agony as their friend and companion suffered the terrible physical pain.
No one counted the strokes, save maybe Dagette. But there were many, far too many for the women held tight in the grasp of ropes and iron fists of these men. When it was over, Suzanne hung limp in her bonds, sobbing and moaning. Her lovely breasts were covered with dozens of thin red lines atop swollen ridges in her flesh.
Shaden checked the ropes on Suzanne and Helena, making sure that they were still tight. Then he motioned towards Helena with his hand and the other guard came up with a small sack in his hands. He poured some red powder into the palm of his hand from the sack, then smeared it all over Helena's breasts. Another handful and he was smearing it over her stomach and hips. A third covered the inside of her tights, with a fair amount rubbed directly into her pubic patch. The last of the powder covered her bottom where he could reach and the outside of her thighs.
"Harold is going to wash his hands now," said Shaden casually. "That powder is very irritating, sort of an 'itching powder' as they used to call it. It sticks to the skin and creates itches that just get worse as time goes on. Very annoying."
He went to the Princess lifted his hand to the level of her right breast. He snapped his thumb against the metal ring around her nipple, evoking a sharp cry from her. Then he took the ring in two fingers and used his other hand to move a very tiny switch on it. The metal band began to get tighter. Then the tiny metal needles dug in deeper.
The Princess whined at the new pain.
He did the same to her other nipple. Both were beginning to throb from the tightness of the metal bands.
The men left but only after Shaden bid the girls a good night. And it was a long night, especially for poor Helena who whined and moaned all night long as she struggled to scratch itches that refused to stop and threatened to drive her to the brink of madness. A great deal of the time she was also rubbing her thighs together to ease the terrible itch in her private place.
CHAPTER NINE
Looking Like Real Slavegirls
The Port Inspector, a sour-faced Tribolian met me at the terminal to inform me that he had to inspect the ship before anyone could depart. The fact that I was already in the Administration Terminal didn't seem to bother him at all, he simply told me to get back on the transport and he would inspect our ship. With a sigh I did just that. You don't mess with Port Authorities. Not unless you want to find yourself locked away in some hidden jail and your ship confiscated.
Port Inspectors are mostly looking to make sure that you don't bring on planet any life forms that might cause havoc and that no member of your crew or cargo are diseased. Beyond that, they don't care much what you're bringing in or doing on their world. At least on open worlds such as Wahoo, they don't.
All the way back I was hoping that Captain Eddie wasn't doing something stupid. Like having unlocked the girls and having tea with them.
We made our way to the forward section, the Inspector waving the scanner around like some priest blessing the ship. Just before we entered the crew compartment I heard a noise that came as a real surprise. It was the cry of a woman in distress. More precisely, the sharp cry of a woman in sudden and intense pain. We came to the door of the Wolfhome girl's quarters and since it was open, could easily see what was causing the noise.
Fauna was not in her cell. Nor were her wrists still handcuffed behind her back. Instead she was standing outside her cell with her arms sticking back through the bars. I could see that her wrists were handcuffed on the outside, which effectively held the naked Amazon with her front pressed against the bars. Her ankles had been locked to bars at the floor level but only after being spread widely.
But what was most surprising was Captain Eddie standing behind Fauna. She was stripped to the waist and held one of the black leather whips in her hand. From the dozen or so marks criss-crossing Fauna's bottom, it was obvious we were interrupting a serious whipping.
Without batting an eyelash, Eddie straightened up to attention and saluted me with the whip hand. Fauna was crying and didn't turn around. The other two girls were still shackled and in their cells, I was glad to see.
"A little discipline?" I inquired as casually as I could.
"Yes, Sir."
"Well, carry on."
Eddie shifted her feet a little and suddenly that whip lashed out in a backhand cut across the flesh marked with fresh, angry welts. Then she cut back across the same territory with a vicious forehand. Fauna cried loudly and went rigid against the steel bars. Then she uttered a strangled little cry and shook her whole body, rattling the chains that joined her wrists together and ankles to the bars. It was an act of frustration, pain and anger, and she gained only chaffed wrists and ankles from fighting the hard steel.
Captain Eddie was not holding back and those cuts across naked flesh had to hurt something terrible.
The Inspector waved his scanner over each of the girls, Eddie, and the rest of the room, totally ignoring the whipping, also ignoring the topless Captain Eddie-a feat I was having trouble duplicating. Those were two of the finest female attributes I have ever seen. So round, so firm, so fully packed ... I ached to reach out and touch them.
But instead I had to accompany the Inspector as he quickly checked the rest of the ship. Then he announced we were clean, and gave me a piece of paper to prove it. I thanked him, paid the Port Fees and suggested that he go ahead down to the transport, I would catch up with him a few seconds. As soon as he disappeared down ship, I was back in the girl's cabin.
Just as I walked in, Eddie was delivering another of those hard strokes to Fauna's marked up rear.
"You can stop now, he's gone," I said. "But it was a good show."
Eddie tilted to one side and delivered a wicked slash upward across Fauna's bottom. The warrior woman bit back a scream.
"I'm not doing this as a show for you or your Port Inspector," Eddie informed me.
"When why?" I was puzzled.
"We talked about this," said Thala from her cell. "And we all agreed that just being naked and in chains wasn't enough to make us look like slavegirls. You saw those videos, most of those girls were marked up."
"Well...." I couldn't get much else out.
"So we asked Eddie to put some marks upon our persons, the kind of marks that a slave would received as part of her training or as discipline."
I looked at Eddie, topless and still holding the whip. Then I looked at Fauna, chained in place and with a bottom slashed repeatedly with vivid red lines on swelling flesh that must have burned as if on fire. I was amazed. "I guess that's ... logical," was all I could say.
Eddie cut two more fresh lines across the backs of Fauna's thighs, just below her ass. Then she put the whip down. Then she was unlocking Fauna's ankles from the bars. As soon as the softly sobbing girl was free, she stood there with both hands upon burning ass cheeks and watched Eddie unlock her cell door. Then she went in, turned her back and presented her wrists for the handcuffs. When both her wrists and ankles were locked in steel again, and the cell door solidly locked in place, Eddie turned to Thala. Thala nodded to the unasked question and Eddie began unlocking the door to her cell.
"You're not going to...." I began.
"It is necessary that we all look like slavegirls," said Thala evenly.
There wasn't much I could say after that. If my clients wanted to have their asses whipped until they couldn't sit down, that was their business. At least it hadn't been my idea. The day before the idea of marking up the girls a little bit had passed through my mind, but was hurried along its way since I figured suggesting exactly what was now being done would get my head ripped off by my Amazon clients.
"Don't you have something important to do?" asked Eddie sternly. "Someplace else?"
I should have informed her that I was her boss, having been the one who chartered her ship, and I would stay to watch if I wanted to. But there was a look in her eye that I didn't like and she was holding the whip. Besides Thala was giving me almost the same look and I knew that she would not always be chained up and naked. I took a last looked at the tears running down Fauna's face as she pressed herself against the bars, and said my goodbye.
On the way to the terminal, I was busy wondering about the little scene I had just witnessed. Was it really all for show? They couldn't have known that I was coming back with the Inspector unless Eddie was monitoring from the control room. And then she wouldn't have had time to get to the girl's cabin, relock Fauna in place, and deliver the dozen of so whipmarks that were already on her skin when I popped in.
And why was Eddie minus her blouse? Not that I was objecting, mind you. By the Great Horned Toad, I wasn't complaining. I had been wondering what those large bulges under her clothing looked like when they were free to bounce around. The brief glimpse I had gotten when I stumbled upon the four of them playing lesbian games had only teased me for a good look. And, boy, was it worth it! But why? I guess I could say that it was because she expected to work up a sweat and didn't want to soil her blouse. But somehow that explanation was a little weak. It seemed to me that she simply wanted to be half naked while she whipped three fully naked women. It sort of made sense. In an erotic sort of way.
I found myself hoping that among the cargo I was there to buy would be a nice looking slavegirl upon whom I might give vent to the lust those four sexy women generated in my loins. That little whipping scene had been incredibly erotic-much more so than I would ever have guessed. I was horny. And I couldn't figure on any cooperation from those four in easing my suffering. Wondering what was going on back in that ship was making it hard for me to keep from getting an erection right there in the crowded terminal.
Tal Harra Shaden was a cruel man who loved to punish females more than most anything else in the universe. But a close second to that enjoyment was the ravishing of various parts of the female body to sate his sexual appetites. During the first part of a slavegirl's training, he usually forgoes the pleasures of her body because it is deemed best that she endure only agony and suffering until her spirit is broken enough to make her docile. After that she can be trained to perform the sexual acts which will please her male owner. She will be trained to use every part of her body, all her skills and talents, to please a man. But up to that point the sexual pleasure she might derive from his use of her body would be an unscheduled and unwanted complication to her training.
Besides, there were always plenty of other enslaved female bodies around for him to satisfy his lust upon.
There came one night, after a long, hard day of training those difficult but so beautiful Wolfhome women, when the Princess Adrianne, now known only a slave Adrianne, was cleaned up, bound in a special way, and delivered to his quarters at a time when she would normally have been secured for the night in some stage of discomfort. Something different was about to happen and perhaps she sensed that it was a new stage in her training.
The naked slavegirl was first taken to the cleaning area where her first hot water bath in countless days had cleansed the grime of the torture chambers from her flesh and soothed a thousand aches from the torment inflicted upon her person. Another female slave was given the task of bathing the former Princess since her wrists remained shackled in steel as were her ankles. The water was warm, the soap perfumed and the feminine hands that sponged her body gentle. Even her hair was washed and then combed out.
The kind treatment did not boaster her spirits for she had come to expect only pain and suffering from this place. In fact, she thought little about what was happening to her. She was content that the pain had stopped for now but also certain that it would begin again when those who controlled her wished it. Had it not been that way for more days than she could remember?
When her body was cleaned and perfumed and her long raven hair combed until it shined, she was led to an adjoining chamber and delivered from the gentle feminine hands once again into hard male hands. The handcuff and legiron shackles were taken off, but the freedom lasted only a brief moment before her arms were gathered together behind her back and she felt the bite of thin cord upon her flesh. The wrists were corded very tightly. Then more cord looped around her elbows, pulling them to each other and digging deeply into the soft flesh just above them. A dozen times the cord was wrapped around her arms, then cinched down four times and knotted. She knew that she could not remove these cords by her own efforts, they were as carefully applied as all the cords and ropes and straps since the moment she had entered that horrible place.
Ready for her Master's pleasure, she was taken to his bed chamber.
The room was large, flooded with harsh male symbols of the hunt and war, and dimly lit. Animal pelts provided both carpeting and bed covering. Wooden beams crossed the ceiling and the walls were of rough cut stone-it had been, after all, an ancient castle. The lighting was modern, as was the communications console on one table.
The Princess dully looked at the huge bed and knew it's implications. But instead of horror at the idea of ravishment by a man she hated, instead of fear at the coming violation, she felt only a dull gratitude that the evening would bring her no more pain than that suffered by her corded arms. A lot of things no longer mattered as much to the still beautiful but not so proud woman. Her world had been simplified considerably. Now it was eating, sleeping when she could, and enduring pain.
Before the last guard left, he grabbed her chin roughly with one hand and ordered her to open wide her mouth. She obeyed, and he inserted a new, strange type of gag. It was a large metal ring covered with leather. Straps from it passed around her head to be buckled tightly behind. The metal ring was wedged behind her teeth and forced her mouth wide open in a circle as if she were saying "Oh!" Then she was ordered to kneel on the fur rug and stay. The guards left her there.
The Princess was aware of how wide open her mouth was held by that strange gag but really had no idea of its purpose. On her world, men were submissive and performed the sexual chores as best their diminutive bodies were able to. Some were quite good at pleasing their women with their hands and tongues, and such skill was prized since their male rods were hardly ever up to the task of really satisfying one of the Amazonian women. Never in her experience had the Princess ever considered that she might be called upon to please a man with her hands or anything else. Thus potential use of a mouth held wide open by such a gag did not occur to her.
It also didn't seem worth the effort to move from her kneeling position, and punishment would surely come, so she remained kneeling on the fur, arms painfully bound behind her back, and mouth held open and inviting.
Shaden entered after ten minutes or so, apparently fresh from a shower after a hard day of torturing women. His long black hair was wet and stray drops still clung to his arms and legs. A large flame-red towel encircled his waist.
For a few moments the Princess knelt without looking up but when a pair of bare male legs came into her vision, she lifted her head. The male animal she beheld was not the meek men of her land. He was large, larger even than she, and muscular. Dark hair covered his legs and chest and arms, a thing never seen upon the men of Wolfhome.
With arrogance he looked down upon the naked woman.
He was pleased with what he saw. The arms were as he had ordered them, very tightly corded with the thin rope rather than the normal white cotton rope. She was hurting just from that cord, he knew. That was good, it would be a constant reminder of her status. The constriction of her elbows behind her made those already magnificent breasts stand out in proud display.
The ring gag was tightly strapped in place and wedged behind her teeth, it would not be moving. Which also pleased him.
With elaborate casualness, he removed the towel from his hips and tossed it into a corner. The rod revealed was already interested in the female flesh before it and pointed firmly at her eyes. The Princess swallowed as best she could. It would have taken half a dozen male rods from the men she had known massed together to equal the one weapon pointed at her now. Maybe more.
He stepped forward until the inside edge of his feet touched her bare knees on the fur. That rod now almost touched her nose and she shrink back in fear. "No you don't," he told her and grabbed her hair with one strong hand. "Hold still."
The Princess closed her eyes as the rigid phallus approached her open mouth. She felt a sick feeling inside as the purpose of that gag now became apparent. This just wasn't something a woman should have to do. It wasn't right and every part of her wanted to scream.
But the thin cord welding her arms together behind her and the strength of this man told her another story. And, as it was always for her now, the memory of more pain than any girl can stand was not far from her thoughts. She could only close her eyes and pray that this terrible thing were not happening to her. Or that it would be quickly over.
The male flesh entered the soft, warm, moist cavity of her mouth and touched the top of her tongue. She tried to move it out of the way but there was no room. This horrible male spear filled her mouth. Soon it was touching the roof of her mouth as well as her tongue. The hand in her hair pulled and she found herself tilting her head upwards. Then the shaft was filling her mouth and she could do nothing to expel the invader.
"Just hold your head still," he commanded. The hand holding her hair gave her little choice. She tried not to gag as the thing pushed its way in until it was touching the back of her mouth. This was horrible. She felt so very degraded and shamed that a man would do this to her. She wanted to cry.
Then the invader began to withdraw and hope sprang up within her only to be dashed as he ceased its retreat only to shove it in again, and farther than before. The Princess frowned and instinctually bit down hard upon the metal ring. But her jaw was held open. The rape of her mouth continued and all she could do was keep her eyes closed so she didn't have to see the dark male hair inches from her eyes. Her fingers fluttered uselessly.
"You can see why it's called a training gag," he said between moans of pleasure. "A slave cannot hurt her Master with an accidental-or deliberate-bite. Oh, this is nice, bitch. Your mouth feels nicer than most women's cunts."
The Princess cringed within at both his continued screwing of her virgin mouth, and his coarse and insulting language. Suddenly she began to wonder if he intended to continue this until he ... Until he ... She didn't want to think about it. Having her mouth used as a vagina was bad enough, but if he were to shoot his sperm into her was something too terrible to even think about.
The slavemaster seemed in no hurry to complete the sexual act with a gushing forth of his fluid. The slow in and out movement continued, apparently giving him much pleasure. Princess Adrianne had nothing to do but kneel there and endure.
After a few minutes she began to feel strange. This was a most horrible violation of her person, and yet ... Yet there was some strange kind of sensation within the beautiful woman, something she didn't understand. Then, with a shock, she realized that there was a warmth between her legs, a warmth she usually only felt when touched there by another woman. It was accompanied by a general tingling of nerves all over her body. "NO!" she screamed to herself. "Don't do that!" But it was no use telling her body to deny and ignore what was instinct. There was something strangely akin between this violation of her mouth and the same act being performed in its proper place in her sex. For a brief instant she found herself wishing that this huge weapon were in her vagina instead of where it happily played. But she casted that thought out. She had been raped by this man the first day she was there and she no desire for a repeat of disgusting act.
Or did she? That warmth between her legs was growing to a heat and the memory of that huge tool in her sheath was coming back. It was almost as if her body welcomed the memory but her mind rejected it.
Then the idea of offering her body for normal sex came to her mind. Certainly it would be better than this degrading act. Certainly he would prefer that natural act to this abnormal one.
But the slavegirl could not offer that suggestion to her Master. Her mouth was filled and words were not available to her. Kneeling as she was with arms bound behind her, she was even denied the age-old gesture of opening her legs in invitation. She could do nothing but await the next act in this play and fear that it would be most unpleasant.
He did not climax within her mouth although to do so would have been easy and certainly most pleasurable. Instead he withdrew his sword from this wonderfully warm and moist female sheath before instinct ran its full course.
The Princess moaned and leaned forward for just a second as if her mouth were trying to follow the phallus. She was breathing hard and her eyes were still closed.
Shaden stepped back and then ordered her to stand up. There was a grin on his face. She opened her eyes and stood awkwardly. She found herself staring at his rigid rod still glistening from her mouth. Strange emotions churned within her, loathing and craving both at the same time. She tried to push down all feelings.
Shaden propped up his pillow and lay down on the bed. He crossed his ankles and pointed to the rod sticking straight up. "Come over here," he ordered. "Bend over and use your mouth on it."
The Princess frowned. There had been a time when she would have had this man, or any man, killed for such an order. But now she walked on unsteady legs to the edge of the bed. His rod eagerly stood at attention. She looked up at her owner. Should she plead? Maybe offer him her vagina? The idea of crawling up on the bed, straddling his legs and lowering her sex down over his rod flashed into her mind. But she was afraid. She had not been ordered to do that. Would she be punished if she tried? What ten minutes before had been unthinkable was now something she wanted with a longing that surprised her.
She bent forward at the waist. Her open mouth descended until the soft, red lips encircled the male member. Then she leaned a little more and felt it slide easily into her mouth. When it filled her mouth she halted.
"Deeper," came the command. She knew what it meant and hated it. But there was the fear of what might be done to her if she refused. And a strange feeling of acceptance she did not understand. If she must do it, then she must. It was not an idea worthy of a Princess but it was the way she felt. She leaned over a bit more and felt the smooth head of his rod press against the back of her mouth.
"Better, better. Now work your mouth up and down. You know what I want."
She knew. She closed her eyes and began bobbing her head up and down, sliding her mouth over the rod. And feeling the smooth head of it tease the roof of her mouth.
This is wrong, she told herself. But she was sliding her head up and down in a smooth, regular motion. She heard him moan with pleasure and felt a perverse sense of pride that she could do that to a man. Then she halted with his rod half way down. She ran her tongue around the smooth, rounded end, teasing it and stroking the hard flesh. She didn't think about what she was doing, something instinctual took over and she was teasing it, licking it and then sucking gently. Then she was pumping her mouth around his tool. She felt it grow even more rigid and she sped up.
With a sudden growl his arm pushed her from the bed. She staggered backward. The naked man leaped from the bed, grabbed her shoulders roughly and then turned her around. She felt herself falling backwards and then bouncing on the fur covered bed. A second later his body was on hers, his legs forcing her legs apart. She opened them willing. Then he was shoving his rod deep into her vagina. She gasped, then moaned loudly and closed her eyes. It felt so good that she didn't even pause to wonder why her sheath was so very juicy.
The ride was hard and fast, and ended with a loud cry of triumph from the man. The Princess felt his body go rigid and the rod bury itself as deeply into her as it could. Then there was a warm, strange feeling as he injected his fluid into her. She tasted something metallic and whined. A second later she was gasping as her body exploded into sheets of fire and brilliant dancing lights.
Later, much later, the Princess Adrianne contemplated what had happened to her that night. No man had ever made her feel so incredibly alive and excited. She didn't even know a man could do that to a woman. And no woman had every brought her to such an intense orgasm, skilled as her lovers were.
She had no idea how long she had drifted along in the warm, wonderful aftermath of that orgasm, but it must have been a time. She opened her eyes sleepily to see a flickering yellow light from a large candle on a table in the corner. She moaned as she tried to shift her weight and found that her arms were still tightly bound with that wickedly thin cord. In addition, she found that her legs had been tied with the same stuff, both at her ankles and above her knees. She rolled from her side onto her stomach to see if she could ease the ache in her arms. As she did, she felt a strain on her ankles and the cords around her legs above the knees. Apparently they were tied together. It wasn't a hogtie, but it did keep her from bending forward at the waist, and pulled gently on he arms as she lay face down. She ignored that little discomfort-it was so much less than the ache in her arms and shoulders.
Turning her head, she found the naked male body of Shaden laying on the bed beside her. She should have been disgusted by the very idea of sharing a bed with the man who had caused her so much pain, but she was not. Instead there was a pleasant feeling that the male body which had given her so much pleasure was near her now. If her arms had not been tightly corded behind her, she could have reached out and placed her hand upon the hairy and muscular thigh. She found a strange desire to do exactly that.
It would have been nice, she thought to herself, if he had untied me before falling asleep. Or taken that damned ring gag out of my mouth. Those simple actions would have saved her considerable pain during the night. Yet is was also only proper that he should make certain this slavegirl was totally helpless as she lay in bed with him. If he had freed her arms there would be no telling what she might do while he slept. Same with her legs, it would not take much effort for a large, strong woman such as this female warrior from Wolfhome to harm his with a solid kick. And with that ring forcing her mouth wide open, there was no damage she could do with her teeth. So she was left bound hand and foot and gagged, no danger to him as he slept.
And oddly, that seemed somehow only proper to Princess Adrianne.
She rested her body as best she could on the soft fur and closed her eyes. In the morning her Master awoke her by rolling her body over onto the aching, bound arms, straddling her body on his knees, and then raping her open mouth as any dominant male might rape a female vagina. He trust hard and deep into her mouth, and when he spurted his seed into her, she swallowed every bit of it.
A couple hours after he left her, a guard came to peel the cords from her flesh and remove a ring gag from a dry mouth and a jaw that ached terribly. Then her wrists and ankles were locked in shinning steel shackles and she was marched off for her cold water spray shower and meager breakfast. And then a day of torment as her training continued.
CHAPTER TEN
Slave Market
The slave market on Wahoo wasn't what I had expected at all. There should have been a wooden block for the slavegirl to stand on, iron shackles confining her wrists and ankles, and perhaps a heavy iron collar with connecting chains all around. The place should have stone walls with iron rings set in them, iron bars on the door, and the wooden block worn by the tread of thousands of bare slave feet. The man doing the auction should have been an oily Arab in a dirty white robe-like garment, with a black beard and dark eyes. And he should have carried a whip with which to tap the slavegirl to make her turn around that she might show off her assets.
Well, that's what I saw in one of those old, old "movies." Instead the room was large, well-lit, and had perhaps two hundred comfortable seats, like a lecture hall. The stage was not a wooden block, and the auctioneer was not out of a costume drama from a thousand years back. He was a painfully plain human wearing a business suit.
The only part that was at all close to what it should be was the fact that the slaves all had their wrists locked in shinning steel handcuffs behind their backs. I guessed that was to keep them from covering the good parts.
My other disappointment was that the slave up on the stage when I walked in wasn't a beautiful, sexy young female. Not even pretty. Not sexy. And not even female. I'll admit that the guy standing there was a good specimen, all muscles and such, but hardly my idea of sexy. So I shoved my hands in my pockets to make sure that a casual and innocent gesture didn't buy me something I didn't want.
The bidding was brisk, and I noted that easily half the bids came from men in the audience. Yes, there were females and it wasn't surprising. In fact, it was one of the females who held out the longest and was won the hunk up on the stage. I hoped she would be happy with her purchase.
The audience only filled a quarter of the seats and was a really mixed crowd, including some non-humans. Which made me wonder if non-humans were also sold here. The idea of a human, male or female, being bought and owned by one of those six foot tall cockroaches from Quella made my skin crawl. The next slave up on the block was also human and also very much male. So much so, in fact, that the sight of his rather limb yet really huge tool evoked a twitter of excitement among some of the female bidders. I wondered if they really knew what they were getting into, what with my mental guess at how large it would get when aroused. Then I remembered that there were a couple words where men were breed for their sexual prowess and attributes.
But this wasn't what I had come for. I turned to the person two seats over, a Harconian to judge by the orange and red stripped robe, pink slippers, purple spotted fez, and vomit green scarf. They must all be color blind, I thought. "When do they put on the girls?" I asked him.
He turned a cocked eyebrow in my direction and pointed with a limp wrist to a small folder attached to the back of the seat in front of me. Maybe they're not color blind, after all. Maybe they like those colors. He went back to studying the male before us with a haughty eye.
There was a program in the folder, written in a dozen major languages. From it I learned that I was only five minutes away from the beginning of the female portion of the auction, and that this lot considered of a hundred and six females, all human, all in prime condition. Apparently the male lot ran over because it was more like half an hour before the first female appeared, during which time the Harconian bid on two males and bought the last one offered. The Harconian seemed pleased but the guy on the stage looked shocked to see who (or what) had bought him.
In the short pause between lots, I read the rest of the program and found that photos and details were available by pressing a small square on the page. I did and the page sort of shimmered and the letters squirmed around until they formed a menu. I pressed the button for females and was rewarded with a new menu breaking down the lot by category. It's amazing what one can do with micro computers embedded in a thick sheet of paper. I debated over the first choice: trained, raw or mixed. I picked trained. Thirty or so small photos appeared, each with a couple short lines of information, including price. It was then I discovered why slavery was such a big business. A well trained girl was expensive. Only a few of the starting bids were within the range of the one Flame Gem I had sold and what we had allowed for this part of the rescue mission. I could have gone back to the ship and gotten the Wolfhome girls to fork over with another of those flame gems, but that would delay things. And, besides, the extra few girls I was here to get were only for show, trappings to make me look like a serious slaver and get us onto Kronos.
For that purpose I didn't need trained slavegirls. Too bad, I thought. Visions of a luscious, curvy, eager to please her Master slavegirl had entertained my thoughts for the last few days. It was so frustrating living in a small star ship with four lovely women who didn't want to have anything to do with me.
I backed up and pressed the "Raw" icon. A noticeably larger list appeared, but at least the starting bids were much more reasonable. I recalled from the videos that Grayscalp provided that buying a raw slavegirl is cheaper because you were taking a chance. A percentage were never trainable, or provided to be poor slaves. And that it was not as easy to train a girl as most people thought. Well, that's fine, I figured. I would just keep them chained up and not worry about training them. Probably I would sell them when we got to Kronos, just to show that I really was a slaver.
Still, it might be possible to get at least one pretty one. A pretty, sexy one. A very pretty, very sexy one. Since they were only cargo, the Wolfhome girls couldn't object to my "fraternizing" with the merchandise, could they?
Well ... They could and probably would. Those three woman didn't seem too hot on the whole idea of females being owned as slaves. Some kind of cultural bias, I guess.
Looking over the tiny pictures, I realized that it wouldn't be too hard to pick a pretty one, they all were. Some of them were downright gorgeous. They ran from short to tall, skinny to pleasingly plump, from the lightest blonde to midnight black hair, and everything in between. I made check marks next to half a dozen of the ones that seemed pretty and wouldn't start at too high a price. It just happens that all those I picked had the same large but firm looking breasts, slender waists and athletic legs. Well, what's wrong with picking what I like?
I could tell you a long story about how the fierce the bidding was, my gallant attempts to procure good quality merchandise for my employers, and the heart break of seeing a gorgeous female slip away to someone else with just a little more money. What I will say is that for some reason the bidding was less vigorous on some girls, and I managed to purchase two that seemed like pretty good merchandise to me, although the bidding wasn't vigorous on them.
One was a young blonde on the short side but with a fine figure. She looked very nervous up there with and I sort of felt sympathetic towards her. The other was a redhead with very long hair falling all the way to her rear in back and a very defiant glow in her eyes. Might be trouble, I told myself, but there was something about the idea of owning an honestly wild, untamed woman that appealed to me. Besides, I had to outbid a slinky woman dressed in shimmering black with a clutch of diamonds around her slender throat. It was fun watching the faint snarl of defeat on her lips when my bid topped her limit.
I picked up the paper work and arranged for the transfer of funds in a smaller room next door. All that finished, the clerk asked me how I would like them, delivered or take out?
Not wanting to appear the amateur I was, I pretended to ponder the question for a second then told him to deliver them to my ship. I gave him the berth number of the Golden Girl. Then he asked me what type of delivery. "What do you have?" I replied.
"Three levels: light, medium and max security," he said.
I avoided having to ask him the difference by simply announcing that max security would suite me, figuring that it was better to be safe than sorry. He nodded and keyed in my choice and that was that.
I spent the next couple hours treating myself to a really fine lunch at one of the many first class restaurants around the auction halls. Slavers like to eat well and have the money to pay for the best, I concluded. Then I strolled through some shops offering the latest in restraints, whips, slave clothing, and punishment devices-which filled my eager mind with exciting ideas.
I bought a few small goodies; a pair of nipple clamps made of lightest titanium, a slender steel collar covered in black leather with a built in lock they keyed to open only by the touch of my finger, and a thing called a "trainer gag." The last item was a metal ring with strap. The illustration show how it fitted into a slavegirl's mouth and held her jaw open. The ring was large enough to allow access to her mouth. Which sent terrible but exciting visions were racing through my mind. I decided to hide that gag from the girls. They might not approve of something so obviously intended to allow a man to force his unwanted attentions upon a poor, innocent, and helpless female. Pant, pant, pant....
Back at the ship all was quiet. I heard the sound of music from the control room and figured Eddie was up there. Dropping off my purchases in my cabin, I then set out to inspect the three Amazons. They didn't look much like Amazons. Captain Eddie had been busy while I was gone. Each of the three had vivid marks across their bottoms. I had to suck in my breath when I saw that each girl also had a couple cuts across those magnificent breasts. I hadn't expected Eddie to go that far but also had to admit that the girls now looked more like slaves. Each eyed me but said nothing. I noticed the dried tear stains on their cheeks but said nothing. You had to admire women who would go through that for their Princess.
I informed them that I had purchased two additional slavegirls and we would be leaving as soon as they were delivered. The girls said nothing. They looked hurt but still determined to see this through.
An hour later my purchases were delivered.
I had expected someone to come walking up to the ship with the two slavegirls in tow, perhaps chained together by collars around their necks and the end of the chain in the hand of the man delivering them. He would hand me the chain, ask me to record my thumb print to show I had received the merchandise, and then leave. Instead two metal boxes were unloaded from the transport and delivered to the cargo port. I was there and did have to thumb print for them but was a little shaken up. One box was a little larger than the other, but both were just the size you'd expect if they held a female slave. This is if she were kneeling down and bent over until her head touched her knees.
Each box was locked with a touch pad that would respond only to my touch. I opened the smaller box first, rather eagerly, I'll have to admit. This boxing of the slaves was unexpected but sort of added a nice touch to the proceedings. I mean, I did ask for maximum security, after all. What better way to assure a slavegirl doesn't try to get away then to have her locked inside a box.
As the lid came up, I discovered what better way there was. It was the blonde girl, as I expected, but I had not expected that she would be both naked and tightly bound within her metal prison. She was kneeling in the box, and she was bent over, but her arms were behind her bent back and bound with rope. Rather tightly, too, with the elbows together. I could just see additional rope around her legs just above her knees. I suspected that there was also rope around her ankles for I could see two lengths coming up her bottom to her wrists.
I went to lift her out of the box only to find that there was a collar on her neck and that collar was tied to the ropes around her knees. I undid it and she slowly straightened up.
It was then that I found she had been gagged and blindfolded with a leather strap device that held a large solid plastic ball in her mouth and had straps going around her head and even under her chin. It formed a harness that encircled her whole head and held the gag and blindfold in place quite well.
Responding to my touch on her shoulders, she rose up until she was upright but still on her knees. Then I noted that the rope I saw tied to her wrists did indeed go down to her ankles. I untied it and pulled her from the box to set her on her feet. She was wobbly and I had to steady her for a while until her legs could take her weight. While one hand held her arm, the other was unstrapping the harness on her head. The gag came out with a plop sound followed by a moan. She worked her jaw a bit then looked into my eyes with those soft, violet eyes of hers. I could tell she was wondering what kind of Master had bought her. And with more than a little fear in her eyes.
"Have you been in that crate long?" I asked, suspecting that she had been from the way her legs had trouble supporting her.
Her voice was low and soft, just like the lovely, soft golden hair that framed a very pretty face. Not as downright beautiful as the Wolfhome girls, nor the same as Captain Eddie, but very pleasing to look up. "I was bound and put in there right after being taken off the stage," she said.
I noted that even though she was scared, she spoke evenly and with intelligence. "Ropes hurt?" I asked.
She gave me a funny look. "Yes, they do."
"We'll get them off after I get you in your cell. Why are you looking at me that way?"
"You're the first man who's asked me if the restraints hurt. Or even if I were comfortable. Since I was kidnapped, that is."
"Raiders?" I asked. She nodded. "Not too uncommon. They jump into a system without any real planetary defenses to speak of, steal a few girls, and then jump out."
"I had heard of slavers before," she said, pausing to look me up and down. "But didn't think such a thing could ever happen to me."
"It happens," I offered. I suppose I should have felt bad that I was one of those terrible slavers-at least playing the part of one. But, strangely enough, I didn't. It was simply part of life, especially out on the galaxy rim where there was very little law and order.
"If I untie your legs, will you come along peacefully?"
"On the ship I was kept hogtied for almost a day. In the slave holding center I was kept handcuffed on both wrists and ankles all the time. Aren't you afraid that I'll try to run away?"
"No."
She looked towards the large cargo hatch (which I had closed before I opened the box) and sighed. "You're right," she said. "There's no where to go. This whole planet is filled with slaver catchers, slave traders, and slaves. Where would I go? And with my arms tied behind me?"
"Sensible. If you'll sit on the edge of the box there, I'll untie your legs."
As I worked, she seemed puzzled. "You don't sound like a slaver. They don't care if I'm hurting or not. Most of them don't say a word to a slave unless it's to give an order."
That rang alarm bells in my head. I would have to be careful to be more in character. Might not be so important with one of the slavegirls but if I didn't come across like a real slaver, it could mean the end of all of us. I finished the ropes on her legs and stood up. "Get up!" I ordered.
She rose to her feet. I grabbed her bare arm just below the ropes around her elbows and pushed her towards the passage. She walked meekly towards a fresh captivity. We were almost to her cell when it occurred to me that she hadn't even asked what was going to become of her. Seemed to me that would be the first question on any slavegirl's mind.
Her cell was one of three we had built in a cabin almost as big as that shared by the Wolfhome girls. Only when she was inside and I was standing in the doorway, blocking her escape route, did I untie the ropes around her arms. I noted how deeply the cords had cut in as I peeled them from her soft flesh. The marks left were red and held the pattern of the rope. I made a mental note to remember that was how to duplicate that bondage when I had to keep a slave well restrained by ropes.
Oddly I was reluctant to untie her arms. All the way up to that cabin I was very much aware that I held a naked, very pretty and sexy young woman, but most of all, that her arms were tightly bound behind her, making her almost completely helpless. It was a pleasurable feeling for me. And rather exciting, too.
A voice behind me startled me just as I was taking off the last loop from her wrists.
"So that's the new cargo?" Captain Eddie came around to view the naked woman I had just freed while I tossed the ropes outside the cell and picked up the pair of handcuffs I had prepared before. I waited to lock them on those slender wrists before replying.
"One of them. The other is still in the shipping crate down in the cargo bay."
"Shipping crate? This I gotta see!"
She turned and was gone before I could tell her that she would see only the crate. Unlocking it was a privilege reserved for my right index finger. I locked legirons on the bare ankles and backed out. The cell door shut with a small metallic clang and a snick sound as the lock bolt shot in.
My first slave purchase was looking over her shoulder at the handcuffs, then down at the legirons. She didn't seem overly concerned at her restrictions, but then I figured she was used to that by now. And if she were going to stay a slave for the rest of her life (there's very little chance for promotion, you know), she had better get used to them.
I was about to turn and leave when a idea occurred to me. "What's your name?" I asked. Then added roughly, "Slave!"
She looked up with that lovely puzzled look on her face. "Michelle. Michelle Tanya Porter." She paused then added, "You know you're the first person in two weeks to ask me what my name is. The rest didn't care."
"Well, I can't keep calling you slave number four, can I?"
"They did. I was number 488-C-55."
"I will call you slave Michelle." Quickly I added, "It's easier to remember."
"Yes, Master."
It was the first time I heard her call me that and it sent a thrill down my spine. All the way down to the cargo bay I was wondering if I could manage to keep her after this job was over. After all, it would be a real shame to sell her to some cruel master.
Maybe, just maybe the sight of that lovely pair of breasts sticking right out was messing up my hormones. Or something. I had to admit that tying a girl's elbows together behind her certainly improved her ... ah, appearance.
I walked into the cargo bay just in time to see Eddie kick the metal box containing my other slave girl. Apparently she had tried to get it open and failed. With mock ritual and ceremony I walked over to the box, pointed my finger in the air, waved it in a circle ending on the touch pad. The lid popped open an inch. Eddie was immediately lifting it all the way up.
The other girl, the redhead who looked defiant up on the auction block, was inside, bound the same as Michelle had been. I heard Eddie suck in air at the sight of tightly corded arms and the leather harness tightly buckled around the red hair. I showed her how the rope connected her collar to her knees, and then how to untie the wrists from the ankles. She weighted more than Michelle, and it was a bit more strain to lift this girl out of the box but I managed. Even with the tight ropes that held her prisoner and must have caused her pain, or at least discomfort, her eyes still blazed in resentment at both of us. I closed the lid and sat her down on the box. Then I stood back with Eddie to admire the package. I was more than a little proud to have brought back such a fine looking woman. She wasn't the same as Eddie but at least her equal when it came to looking sexy-. in a wild, primitive way. And this one had a fire that made something exciting stir within me. I could well imagine that if those ropes were to drop off, she would leap through the air to attack us, clawing and hissing like a wild animal. What a contrast to Michelle!
I glanced over at Eddie and could see the same thoughts flickering behind her eyes: Then the tip of her tongue parted those lush red lips and slowly, sensually passed from one side to the other. I was sure that Eddie wasn't even aware she was licking her lips over this choice morsel.
For some stupid reason I was jealous. I had picked this one and figured that made her mine. Well, sort of. Besides Eddie was playing lesbian nibble games with my three clients, and how many girlfriends did she need, anyway?
I knelt down and untied the rope from around the ankles but left the rope above her knees. As soon as the last loop was off her feet, she tried to kick me in the face. Fortunately I was expecting something like that and moved aside easily. It helped that her knees were still bound together.
I double up the rope I had just taken from her ankles, and doubled it twice more until I had a bunch of rope about a foot and a half long. Holding that rope in one hand, I grabbed her bound elbows with the other and lifted her from the box. As soon as she was standing, I shifted my grasp to her wrists and lifted them as high as I could. The young woman bent forward at the waist as her arms went up behind her, just as I wanted. Then, with all my strength, I lashed the bunched up rope across the bare ass. It wasn't as good as a whip but it stung enough to get her attention. There was a muffled gasp from behind the ball gag and a jerk of her body. I let go of her wrists and allowed her momentum to carry her off balance and down to the floor. Without her hands to brace herself, the girl more or less hit flat on her big breasts and face. I gave her bound knees a little shove with my foot.
"Get to your feet!" I commanded as I motioned with my free hand. "Or I'll go and get a real whip."
The redhead glared up at me but there was just the slightest trace of fear in her eyes as she looked to the rope in my hand. The rear I had just struck was covered with whip marks, some old, some fresh. Apparently she was no stranger to being punished and the kiss of the whip.
Eddie was looking at me with surprise on her face, so I stepped a little closer to her and whispered, "I have to play the part. Besides, you don't any handling problems with the cargo, do you?"
She gave me a look that was a cross between resentment and admiration. Then she looked back down at the naked woman struggling to regain her feet without the use of hands and with knees still bound together. What she did next surprised me. She slowly held out her hand, palm up before me. It took a moment to realize she was asking me for the bunched rope in my hand. I gave it to her, fascinated to see what she would do with it.
The slavegirl had not managed to get to her feet although I had the feeling she was sincerely trying to. Eddie took one step over and brought the ropes down across the woman's breasts in a hard, vicious slash. Rope doesn't hurt anything like a whip but it was enough to string pretty good and no woman likes to be whipped across her breasts. That brought a little more fear to her eyes.
Eddie turned and tossed me the rope. "I'm going to get a real whip," she said roughly. "Slaves aboard this ship obey or suffer."
I hoped the slavegirl didn't see the look of astonishment on my face as Eddie grandly strode out. Then my surprise turned to a grin as I realized that the luscious and very desirable Captain Eddie Wilks enjoyed hurting other women. That or she had one hell of a mean streak in her. The whipping of the Wolfhome girls took on new meaning when viewed in that light. Maybe, just maybe, it hadn't been totally their own idea.
I was torn between wanting to leave the girl on the floor to see what Eddie would do when she got back, and a desire to help the girl up so I could get her safely locked in her cell and all of us on our way. The slavegirl solved the problem for me. While I debated, she had managed to get her knees under her and was kneeling with her head against the floor. She eased herself backwards until she was sitting on her folded legs. Then she sort of crawled over to the nearby wall and put her head against it. By pushing with her feet and bracing her forehead against the wall, she managed to straighten herself up just as Eddie was coming back. With a small braided leather whip in her hand, I noted.
If she was disappointed to see the girl no longer on the floor, she didn't show it. She merely pointed back down the corridor and barked, "Move your ass, slave!" The girl had to take short steps because of her knees still being bound, but she made the best time she could. Eddie walked along behind her, twice applying the whip to the flanks of the redhead when her speed was not fast enough to suit Eddie. I think she would have preferred to cut that thong across the bottom but the girl's hands hung there.
When we reached the cabin set aside for the extra cargo, she roughly shoved the new slavegirl into her cell and slammed the door. Calmly placing the whip on a hook, Eddie made a show of brushing imaginary dust off her hands. "I would suggest you leave her bound for a few hours before putting on the shackles," she told me. "Just a suggestion, of course, Slavemaster."
I liked the title. I also admit guilt to feeling a sense of power and erotic thrill at the little scene. Being a Slavemaster was fun!
"Fine. But I'll punish her later for trying to kick me," I replied. Got to stay in character, you know.
Eddie nodded and left. I glanced at the two new females of the Golden Girl and sighed contentedly. Things were definitely looking better and better.
Back in the control room, Eddie was busy at the main computer console, probably plotting our course for Kronos. I could have gone off to read a book, take a cold shower, or maybe even get to know that cute little slave Michelle better. But I couldn't resist one last dig at the Captain's display of sternness against another woman. "I'm surprised you didn't hang her upside down and whipped her all over her naked body," I said with a grin.
Eddie paused in her keying. "That would be silly," she said evenly. "She hasn't done anything to deserve that ... Yet."
I swear she was licking her lips as she said that.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Little Fun and Games
The flight to Kronos took only three days. Well, the stars are farther apart out here on the rim, you know.-In near the center of the galaxy you can hop from star to star in an hour or so, but out here it takes longer.
I waited exactly two hours before going down to untie the redhead. She was still in her cell, her arms still bound behind her back and that harness gag still buckled tightly around her head. But she had managed to rub or wiggle the ropes off her knees.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," I told her through the bars. The eyes that looked back at me again spoke of hate and rebellion. I placed a finger on the touch pad and the door clicked then opened an inch. I noticed that she watched what I had done carefully. Not that it would do her any good, the touch pad was keyed to open only for Captain Eddie or myself.
"The easy way is you let me untie your arms and lock handcuffs on you without any argument or fight." I opened the door to stand there, blocking the entrance. "The hard way is I whip you until the pain makes you docile. Then I handcuff you. Which will it be?"
You know, it's a good thing I have good reflexes. The bare foot kick was aimed straight at my groin. Instead it hit my thigh as I moved to one side. And there was enough force behind it so that I would have lost interest in sex for a long time if it had connected where she wanted it to.
I backed up a step. The small whip used by Captain Eddie was hanging on the peg in easy reach. She watched with the eyes of a trapped but still dangerous animal my movements as I picked it up. "You want it the hard way?" I asked.
Then the thought dawned on me. "Do you understand me?" I asked. The eyes continued to glare behind the leather straps that passed up from each side of her nose to meet at the top and then go down to the buckles in back. "Can you speak Basic?" No answer.
I frowned at this new development. How do you order a slavegirl who can't speak your language? I decided to test her. Letting the whip hang loosely at my side, I told her casually and with a smile on my face, "I'm going to kill you." No reaction. "I'm going to cut off your arms and legs, then throw the parts out the airlock." No reaction.
"Why would you do that?" came Eddie's voice from behind me.
"Damn it, stop sneaking up on me!" I snapped angrily. "And I'm not going to do that. I was just testing to see if she could understand Basic. She didn't even blink. She can't understand us."
Eddie came over to the side of the cell and looked at the redhead. "The language of the whip is universal," she told both of us. Taking the whip from my hand, she waved it in front of the naked woman. "Whip," she said. Then, pointing to herself, "Captain."
"Master" as she pointed to me. From the look in her eyes, I believed that the girl was intelligent and was understanding the language lesson.
"Stand," she commanded then made an upward gesture with both hands. The girl paused then nodded once. She rose from the sitting position on the hard bench. I hoped Eddie know what she was doing because the look in those green eyes was the same one I saw just before she tried to unman me with a kick.
I moved aside and Eddie entered the doorway of the small cell. I expected to see the bare foot sweep upward any second but the slavegirl hesitated. I think she was more scared of Eddie than she was of me. Eddie reached out and grasp one nipple between her thumb and forefinger. She squeezed and pulled downward. The girl gasped and sank down to her knees. Then Eddie loudly stated, "Kneel!" Another new word for her vocabulary.
In short order the new slavegirl learned "stand", "sit", "kneel", "whip", "come", "stay", "turn around", and "you're gonna get your ass whipped," the latter illustrated with a couple choice strokes across the bare bottom. Communication established, Eddie than proceeded to hand me the whip and turn the redhead around. The knots were tight but her fingernails worked at them and soon enough the ropes were peeling from the girl's arms. I heard a gasp as the ropes came off and from my position to one side could see tears glistening on her cheeks. Apparently the ordeal of being bound for hours in the box and then a couple more in this cell had been rough on the girl. Her elbows apparently didn't come together behind her as easily as Michelle's, and being bound like that for a long time had been really painful. Her hands and forearms had looked rather dark. Added to that was the return of circulation when the ropes came off, both pain and "pins and needles", a thing which I later found out can be painful for a girl.
She offered no resistance as Eddie gathered her arms together and locked the wrists in shinning steel. I would have normally put on legirons as I had done with Michelle and the Wolfhome girls, but Eddie reached for another pair of handcuffs. And I had to agree, locking that girl's feet close to each other was safer, especially if you're a man.
Turning her around, Eddie began unbuckling the straps of the gag harness. I noted that the girl may have had tears slowly trickling down her cheeks, but she wasn't crying. The pretty face that was revealed when the straps came off was still defiant and proud.
"Sit," commanded Eddie. I had the feeling that this woman was about to spit in Eddie's eye but the whip in my hand stopped her. She was rebellious and wild but not stupid. She sat down on the hard wood bench and glared at us.
Eddie came out and closed the door. Resting one hand on a bar, she studied our captive. "What is your name?" she asked. The young woman did not respond. "Name?" Eddie pursed her lips, then pointed to herself again, "Captain." Then she pointed to the girl and lifted an eyebrow in question. The girl said nothing even though I had the impression that she understood.
Finally Eddie gave up. "In some cultures, it is believed that if a person knows your name, that person has some power over you," she said. "Many cultures will give a person a public name but also a private name to be used only with their family or within a small segment of the society. Warrior races often had a secret name. And it would be disastrous for an enemy to find out that name."
That fit with what little I knew of comparative sociology. "So, what do you want to call her?" Eddie asked me.
I started to say "Slave number five," but thought better of it. Too long, for one thing. "We can call her Red for the red hair," I suggested.
"Good as anything else," Eddie commented.
I though she was about to leave but was wrong. "You did say something about punishing her for trying to kick you earlier, did you not?" she asked me.
I sheepishly admitted that I had. And the idea of punishing this naked beauty was rather exciting right then. "Hang her upside down and lash every square inch of her skin?"
"Adjustor, you're stupid. Trying to kick your balls doesn't rate that severe a punishment. More like a slap on the wrist." She grinned as she said it.
"You wouldn't say that if you were a man," I countered. "But, okay, how about a few strokes with the whip across her ass?"
Eddie opened the cell door. "Stand," she ordered. "Turn around." Then she pushed the girl half over and taught her the meaning of "bend over." Once the slave was positioned with the rather nice rump sticking up, she stepped aside and waved a hand in invitation.
I may consider myself a gentlemen, but when someone offers me a bare bottom to whip, I'm as human and depraved as the next guy. Deep down inside each man there is a desire to cause pain to a woman. Perhaps there is something sexual about it, perhaps something else. But it is very real. A thrill tingled up and down my spine as I positioned myself behind the redhead. And when the whip struck her I actually saw the flesh absorb the impact, changing shape for a moment under the force of the blow, then bouncing back. And the jerk of that naked body and the gasp of pain were very exciting.
"Bend over," I commanded to get her back into position. I could see the battle raging inside her, the conflict between rebellion and the fear of more pain. Fear won. She bend forward until her head was almost touching the wall. I lashed out and a second red streak paralleled the first.
I slashed into her bottom six times. Then I put the whip back on the peg and closed the door. Red looked up at me from her bend forward position with tears in her eyes but also a lot of hate. I was breathing heavy and could feel my heart beating fast. This was heady stuff!
Eddie left as soon as the whipping was over. A few minutes later I felt the slight quiver of the ship that told of the inertial fields being turned on. A few seconds later we lifted from the pad and were airborne, soon to be free of Wahoo's atmosphere and into clean space where the jump engines could transport us light-years in minutes.
I found myself reluctant to leave the cabin where our two new slaves were quartered. Red was back on her bench seat, defiantly sitting on the very bottom I had just marked up and ignoring the pain that must have caused. Michelle was standing pressed against the bars. I had forgotten that she was there.
"You won't give us any trouble, will you?" I asked.
"Of course not, Master," Michelle replied. "It would serve no purpose to get myself punished. I saw what you did to that other slave."
I walked over to her cell. She was leaning against the bars, each breast between two of the steel bars so that most of the globe was actually outside of the cell. She didn't back up when I came within reach. "Did you know Red back on Wahoo?" I asked.
"I saw her once or twice. She came in only a couple days ago. I never heard her say a word."
"Did they whip you there?" I asked.
"You don't sound like a slaver," she replied.
"I'm a beginner. Did they whip you?"
She continued, "Yes, they did whip us. Once when we first arrived, sort of a lesson that they could cause us pain. And then for any sign of rebellion or resistance. Some of the wild ones were whipped almost every day."
"But not you?"
"I saw no use for rebellion or disobedience."
"Sensible."
"Logical," she said.
"You don't sound like a slavegirl, what were you? I mean, back on your home world?"
"I was a college professor. I taught Classical Literature."
"And still you got caught by slavers?"
"They landed next to the college and took fifty or sixty girls in less than fifteen minutes. I was unfortunate enough to be caught in their stun beams."
I looked at her, at those lovely, violet eyes, and then down at the fine pair of breasts sticking through the bars. I fingered the touch pad and the door clicked open. Then I knelt down and took off the legirons from her feet.
"It might be better if you were to tie my wrists behind me instead of leaving the handcuffs on," she told me.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're obviously going to take me to your cabin and perform sexual intercourse on me. And it would be more comfortable for me to lay on my back if my wrists are bound with rope rather then the steel cuffs."
"Logical," I agreed sarcastically. But I did change her restraints from handcuffs to rope, tying the wrists in a crossed position behind her back. Then, just to let her know who was boss, I swatted her bottom with my bare hand. The slap sounded delightfully loud and was satisfying. Then I took her arm and led her to my cabin.
Without being told to, Michelle went straight to the bunk and positioned herself on it, laying on the bound arms and spreading her legs slightly. Then she closed her eyes.
I was horny, I'll admit that. Something to do with whipping a girl's bare butt does that to a man. And this girl was very pleasing, and certainly obliging enough. But somehow I had expected less cooperation.
"You act like you want me to screw you," I told her. "Do you?"
"No. I would rather you didn't."
"Then why cooperate so?"
"I'm just making it easier for both of us. If I fought you, you'd just whip me until I couldn't stand the pain any more. And then you'd have your way with me anyway."
I couldn't argue with the logic. But still something was missing. I had been with a number of women in my life and knew that some of them simply lay there during intercourse like a lifeless doll. And that, my friends, is a big turn off. Yet, that was what looked like was going to happen then and there. I like a girl to react, to show some life before and during sex.
Then I remembered how very much alive Red had been while her bottom was being whipped. Her eyes glowed with intense life, I remembered, and that had been exciting for me. I went back to their cell and fetched an extra length of rope. Back in my cabin Michelle was still laying on the bunk. I grabbed one leg and pulled it wide to the edge of the bunk. There I tied it to the railing. I repeated the process with the other ankle so that her legs were now spread pretty wide. It was a nice scene. Her private parts were certainly on display, and her laying on her bound hands lifted her bottom enough to make the plumpness of her mound stand out. Unlike Red or the Wolfhome girls, her pubic patch was thin and seemed even more so because of the light blonde color of the hair.
From a drawer I brought out the nipple clamps I had purchased on Wahoo. Setting them beside her, I began teasing and stroking her breasts and nipples until they responded by becoming stiff. Then I put on one of the clamps.
I saw her eyes widen as she observed the metal clamp descending over her rigid flesh. I screwed down the small shaft and the movable bar closed upon the nipple, pinning it between itself and the stationary bar. A couple more turns brought a moan from Michelle. Then I placed the other clamp over her other nipple and screwed down tight.
There was real pain from those clamps. The bars were cut to a Vee shape where they came together so the metal would dig into the flesh. The end of each nipple was sticking out the front and looked rather squashed just behind that. I tightened down the first one again. Michelle became more animated as the pain increased. I toyed with her body, teased the nipples where they stuck through the metal clamps, toyed with her pussy, and generally did my best to excite her female body. Eventually I reach a point where I could feel juices in the right place and heavy breathing that made the clamps lift and fall rapidly. Then I practically ripped off my clothes and climbed up on the bunk. And I remember her exact words as all this went on.
"Those things really hurt, you know," she said. "Do you have to put them on? I've been a good slaver girl and done everything you told me. Oh, damn! Those things hurt! Please don't touch me there. Oh, pleaaasssseeee don't. That's ... That's ... Oh, don't tighten that damned thing! It hurt so much already that I can't stand it." She was breathing heavily.
"Ohhhhh! Don't touch me there ... Please. I'm ... Ohhh! That hurts!" She was panting and twisting her shoulders as if to try and shake off the clamps. "Oooohhhh! Gosh! Ahhhh! That's nice. Stop it."
By then I was positioned between her wide spread legs and the clamps were really squashing her nipples.
"Ohhh, the pain! It hurts! That feels good! Ohhhhhh! Yes, do that again. Wow! Don't do that! Get off me! Aaaahhhh! You're not going to shove that thing in me! Oh, yes, give it to me!" And then the final, "Oh, YES! FUCK ME!"
Which I did.
After being in close quarters to the captain and my clients for days without any kind of sexual gratification, a little screwing with slave Michelle was very nice. After a climax for both of us, I lay there, my chest pressed against hers, feeling the metal clamps digging into my skin and knowing that they were doing worse to her breasts, when I heard a sound. I looked up to find Captain Eddie standing in the doorway, sarcastically clapping slowly. Then I remembered I had left the door open. And Michelle made enough noise for the whole ship to hear.
"Great performance," she said in words dripping with sarcasm.
"Care to join her?" I retorted lamely.
Her laugh was sort of a snort. Then she was gone.
I lay next to the panting Michelle and wondered how long it would take to be ready for another round. This time with the door closed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A Planet of Slaves and Slavers
By the time we had reached Kronos, Eddie had laid a fresh set of whipmarks over those fading ones on the three Wolfhome girls and applied a few extra to Red, who remained rebellious all the time and really had to be watched. I don't know if the warrior girls were getting used to being kept in shackles and locked in barred cages or not, but they didn't complain. And I never knew if the application of fresh marks upon their bottoms and breasts was Eddie's idea or theirs. Or both.
I found, during those times when I took rest from studying up on Kronos and slave trading, that Michelle's appreciation of sexual intercourse and enthusiasm in the act could be improved considerably by the application of controlled amounts of pain. Her nipples seemed especially sensitive to those clamps, but I did "freshen" the marks on her bottom a little now and then. I can tell you that it was nice to have a female to satisfy my sexual lusts after abstinence. A guy can only stand so much of looking at naked, chained up, and very sexy women without having to do something about it. Eddie had already made it clear to me that she was off limits, and I didn't think it would be a good idea to try taking advantage of their shackled condition to vent my lust upon my clients. It might have been fun to do, but after this job was over I had no doubts that they would do their best to make sure I never enjoyed a woman again.
Red was a lovely creature and I did consider giving her the benefit of my experience in advanced lovemaking techniques, along with my legendary endurance, but held back. First off, I would have to tie her down very carefully to assure that not a single part of her could move. One time, while changing some tight rope bondage Eddie had put on her as punishment, she tried to knee me between the legs. And a gag would be necessary, too, lest she take a bite out of something I would prefer to keep intact. Not that securing her down that thoroughly wasn't interesting-it was-but it seemed a lot of work to go to when there was the cute little Michelle available. You can believe me when I say that the interest Eddie took in Red had nothing to do with my choices.
There was something going on between Captain Eddie and Red. It was almost as if Red was a challenge to Eddie. I don't know if she wanted to tame the wild redhead or what, but she spent time teaching her new words and forcing her into performing little submissive acts. I got in the habit of checking up on Red every few hours because I usually found her in some intricate, extremely tight, painfully tight rope bondage. One time I walked into the cell room and found the redhead hanging upside down from and lashed to the bars of her cell. How Eddie got her in that position, I have no idea but there Red was, arms pulled behind her through the bars and tightly bound, with her head two feet off the floor.
Rather than run the risk of ticking Eddie off, I always left Red in whatever position I found her.
When we were five hours out of Kronos, I had run out of material to read and was idly tickling a naked and tied down Michelle when the thought occurred to me that there was only one person on this ship who wasn't sexually contented. Eddie had her choice of three willing, if shackled, Amazons to play with. And I do know after that she often let two of them spend the night together in the same cell. And I'm sure it wasn't so they could scratch each other's backs.
Michelle expressed considerable satisfaction with the attention I was paying to her. She objected to the use of pain to make her respond better, but slowly she was coming around to enjoy the sex act with me. I kept her tied down to my bunk when I screwed her, not so much because I had to, but more because I wanted to. Well, a couple times I tied her bent over the chair, and one time I hung her by the wrists, but mostly she was tied down to the bunk while I screwed her. And I found it was fun to bind her arms tightly behind and then make her come down on my shaft as I sat in the chair ... Well, let's not get too far off the subject.
I figured the only one who wasn't a happy camper on the Golden Girl was Red. As far as I knew Eddie wasn't nibbling on her pussy, nor was she licking Eddie's better parts. So, unless the slavegirl got off on being whipped and tightly-really tightly-tied all the time, she wasn't getting any satisfaction.
But an idea occurred to me, so I got up, told Michelle to stay put (an old joke, I know, when the girl is tied down rather tightly), and went to Red's cell. When she looked up at me, I said in a firm command, "Lick pussy!" Red immediately looked at my pants with a puzzled expression. Which told me that Eddie had been giving her private language lessons. Among other things.
Kronos was pretty from space. The world had a higher proportion of desert to ocean than some worlds, so it was a soft, shimmering bronze color from space with white clouds at the poles and tan and yellow clouds wrapped around the equator. Here and there small seas dotted the landmass but there were no major oceans such as you see on the original Earth or T'au Mau.
Captain Eddie and I were in the control room, watching the planet grow larger in the view screen when the radio buzzed with a contact signal. "Well, here goes," I commented, then nodded to Eddie. She tapped a couple keys and a voice filled the control room.
"Unidentified starship, please identify yourself. This is Kronos control. You are entering restricted space and must identify yourself."
Before the voice could repeat itself, I said, "This is Slaver Master Talon O'Connor of the starship Golden Girl. I wish to conduct business."
There was a second's pause, then, "Identify your cargo and intent."
"I have five prime female slaves. I am looking to either sell them or have them trained, and perhaps buy some more."
Again the pause. It was then that I noticed the occasional flashes of light around Kronos. Large ships in orbit perhaps, but I was sure some or most of them were orbital sentries, manned and armed ships orbiting to protect this world. Slavers tend be careful about who comes to their world.
"Transmit your ship's registry." Eddie keyed in a few numbers and a series of meaningless characters danced across the screen. "Thank you. Slave Master O'Connor. Landing coordinates are being transmitted. Land only there or you will be destroyed. Have a nice day."
I left Eddie to bring the ship down at the right place. The first step was taken successfully. Now all we had to do was find Princess Adrianne, rescue her and get away through a network of hunter/killer orbital sentinels. Simple.
Of course we didn't know if she was still on this planet, if she would be for sale if we did find her, or if I could even pass for a slaver on a world where that was the major profession.
The next hurdle was the port inspector. He was a big man, a head taller than me and built like a bear, complete with black, grizzle beard and hair peeking out from under the sleeves. He did the scanner sweep of the ship, pausing only in the two rooms where my "slaves" were housed. After checking them for diseases and whatever else it is port inspectors are suppose to inspect for, he put away the scanner and took a closer look at my cargo. Probably simply casting a professional eye on the merchandise. Michelle was meekly sitting in her cell, wearing handcuffs on her wrists and ankles, and drew only a casual glance from the inspector. Red, who was currently suffering one of Eddie's punishment bindings, held his attention for a minute. She was hogtied on the wooden bench, arms and legs folded back behind her, more rope wrapped around the bench to hold her on her stomach, and a big plastic ball gag strapped in place. It was the gag harness she came in. She glared at us from behind the straps and wiggled her fingers, those being about the only thing she could move, so thorough was Eddie's binding of our slavegirl.
"Raw?" he asked. I nodded. "Have to punishment them almost constantly," he continued. "Until they're trained. You come to just sell her or have her trained?"
"I haven't been to Kronos before," I told him. "I'd like to check into the training facilities as well as the marketplace. When I find out how much your places charge, I'll know if she's worth training."
"Trained girls are always worth their training costs," he said sagely. "You'll find the training centers on Kronos second to none. And most of them use the old ways, the proven ways. None of that electronic brain stimulation and programming. We use whips, racks and plenty of harsh treatment. Takes longer but it's a better way to break their spirit and tame them. This one looks like she'll take some training," he laughed.
"Would you look at the other three?" I asked him. "I got them raw from a man who says he can get me many more. If there is a good market for them, I might be able to bring more."
He returned to the other room and gave my three clients a good look over. All three were handcuffed and legironed in their cells. They weren't gagged but I had told them to keep quiet.
He nodded and informed me, "They are fine specimens. You'll have no trouble selling them as they are. Tall girls. They all have rebellion in their eyes. But you know that; I can see from the whipmarks." He laughed good-naturedly. Thala grimaced and held her tongue with an effort, but he missed that completely.
"These girls are from a world called Wolfhome," I began, easing into my quest for information. "Do you know if there are any others from that world for sale? I'd like to know what the competition is like."
"Wolfhome...." He stroked his beard. "Wolfhome ... Ah, yes! I recall that name now. There was a shipment from there about four weeks ago."
I could see all three of the girls suddenly intensely attentive. That was pretty close to when their Princess was captured.
"Who has them?" I said, trying to make it as casual as possible.
"Just a second." He opened the scanner again and used the computer portion to data link to some office somewhere. "Ah, here it is. House Shaden has the lot. That would be Tal Harra Shaden himself. Twenty-nine raw slaves from a planet called Wolfhome."
"Can you tell if he's sold any of them?" I asked, trying not to make it sound too important. "I'd like to know what price they went for."
He tapped a couple keys and read the results. "Three sold raw. Probably some culs, you know. The rest are being trained." He closed the scanner again. "That would mean that they should be available soon. You can check with House Shaden if you would like to know the prices for the raws."
"I will," I assured him. "Also I'll check what price they charge for training. These raws cost me twice what a normal raw would."
"House Shaden is one of the best. Well, you're clear. Here's a guide to KMP, Sh'va and Reiss. Those are the only cities you're allowed to travel to. House Shaden is right here in KMP, so you won't have to go far. I'd recommend House Tammis in Reiss if you want to sell them raw. My third cousin on my wife's side runs the training there. He'll give you a good deal."
I thanked him and took the card he offered. Undoubtedly he handed them out to most all slavers who landed there, drumming up business of which he got a percentage. It's the same on any planet.
As soon as he was off ship, I knocked on Eddie's cabin room where she was hiding. In the male dominated society such as this one, they frowned upon a woman holding any position as important as a starship captain.
We had a council of war in the lounge. The three girls were let out of their cages so they could be brought up to date on our plans. I noticed that Eddie didn't offer to remove their handcuffs or legirons. And that they didn't mention their restraints at all. They simply sat down and listened, ignoring the fact that they were chained up and naked. I had come to notice that they didn't seem to mind being naked in front of me anymore.
"I'll contact House Shaden immediately," I began. "I'll tell them that I would like information on having five slaves trained."
"Better make that four," said Eddie sweetly. "Slave Michelle seems pretty well trained already."
I think she was being sarcastic but there was an element of truth to what she said. Slave Michelle simply wasn't rebellious. And she was coming along nicely in being trained how to please a man. I know, I was training her.
"Doesn't make any difference," I pointed out. "I won't be delivering a single one of them so it doesn't matter how many I say I have.
"Now," I continued, "I will ask to see their training facilities. That way I can case the joint."
"What?" said Eddie with a puzzled smile on her face.
"Oh, case the joint ... Well, that means I'll check out the layout of their place, guards, etc. Get information we may need if we have to break in and rescue the Princess. I heard that in a movie."
"You mean those ancient videos you like to watch?"
"Yeah. When I get back, I should know our chances for getting into that place and out again. Then we'll make more plans."
Eddie nodded, having nothing better to offer.
"Adjustor O'Connor," said Thala. "Please try to find the Princess as fast as you can. I shutter to think what they have been doing to her."
"I will." It was a simple promise and I really meant it. But I hid my reservations about the likelihood of success.
We broke up the meeting and Eddie escorted the girls back to lock them into their cells. I sat down before the communications console and dialed in the code for information, then for House Shaden after I got it. I did my slaver looking for a training facility act, complete with lots of praise about the reputation of House Shaden as I had heard it on other worlds. And a few hints about the quality of the girls I had. Everything was business-like until I got to the part where I mentioned that part of my merchandise came from Wolfhome. The guy I was talking to lifted one hairy eyebrow at that. I had the feeling he quickly covered up a little bit of real surprise.
I quickly got an invite to visit the House Shaden training facility, along with directions. I promised to be there early the next morning.
I talked with Eddie about the wisdom of taking along one of the girls, sort of like a salesman's sample case, but we rejected it. These people would know what a Wolfhome girl looked like, they had a lot more of them than I did. Finally we decided I would go alone but take a halocube showing the girls. Captain Eddie had a couple things to do to assure that the Golden Girl would be ready to lift on a moments notice, just in case I managed to come rushing back with the Princess in tow and the bad guys hot on my tail. I called the port terminal and arranged for a ground transport to be delivered, then went outside to wait for it to show up.
Kronos was, as I said, mostly a desert world but the part where KMP was located was in the foothills. Off to my left a range of mountains lifted skyward, capped with snow. A restless breeze blew from the right, the direction I had seen a huge desert as we came down. It was late afternoon local time and the sinking sun was illuminating white thunderheads all around the spaceport. From the gray under some of them, and the hot, humid air, I figured summer thunderstorms were on the weather agenda.
It was turning gray as one of those thunderheads moved over the field, and the breeze had freshened into a wind. I took possession of the transport just as the first heavy drops were falling. I spend enough time sitting there to familiarize myself with the controls, but that was hardly necessary as it was pretty much a standard model. Then I locked it up and returned to the Golden Girl, standing in the hatch way watching the rain drumming on the concrete field. It may have been unpleasant weather to most landlubbers, but any kind of real weather is welcome when you've been cooped up in a starship for days. And we didn't get many thunder storms or any kind of rain on Cetious IV. When the rain tapered off, I went inside.
Going into the cabin with our two true slavegirls, I considered taking Michelle to my cabin for a little recreation but hesitated. I was nervous more than horny and screwing Michelle would just be passing time. She looked at me from her cell with those soft, innocent violet eyes of hers and I knew that she wanted to be taken out. One thing I had learned over the prior week was that life is boring for slavegirls on a slaver's ship. They spent most of the time locked into a tiny cell, usually wearing shackled, and having little to do. And Michelle couldn't even talk with Red, the raw still not knowing much of our language.
Red was standing nervously in her cell, her arms bound behind her back with the elbows roped snugly together. I had observed that she spent a lot of time like that, apparently punishment from Captain Eddie, although I wasn't sure that it simply wasn't because the captain of our good ship liked having this slavegirl tightly bound with ropes. Perhaps Eddie considered Red to be hers, although the logic behind that I failed to comprehend. If anything, ownership of our two slavegirls should belong to my clients, it being their money that bought them. But legally I was the owner and had the papers to prove it. Eddie didn't really have any claim on them. Still, Eddie played with Red and left Michelle alone. I did appreciate that Eddie didn't interfere with my using Michelle to satisfy my lust.
Red looked up at me with a mixture of fear and rebellion in her eyes. Eddie had been punishing the girl almost constantly since our departure from Wahoo, and I believe that was starting to get through to her. Red was a very brave girl and would probably get along with the Wolfhome girls since they were all of the warrior mentality. But she also didn't like being hurt, and grew very nervous every time Eddie or I came into the cabin. I considered taking her to my cabin. It would be different and a bit of a challenge. This slavegirl didn't seem to like my touching her at all, although she allowed Eddie to bind her with nothing more than a harsh glare by way of protest. I looked over her naked body, the wonderful way her breasts stood out from the elbows being joined in the back, and felt a stirring of desire. She might not have been as beautiful as some of those girls at the auction but she could hold he own in my book.
I took Michelle to bed, deciding not to "rock the boat" this close to the critical part of our mission. Eddie might get upset if she found me poking what she considered her slavegirl.
After unlocking her door, Michelle shuffled out and stood there with a faint smile on her face. "Would the Master please tie my arms behind me?" she asked sweetly. "That is more comfortable when I lay on my back."
Once again, who I am to argue with logic. I removed the handcuffs and bound her wrists crossed behind her. Then I unlocked the legirons from her slender ankles and tossed them back into her cell. With a firm hand upon her bare arm, I guided her to my cabin. Once there I laid her on her bound arms on my bunk and closed the door. Then I locked it.
Barely had I gotten started when I glanced up to notice that Michelle looked unhappy. I'm well aware that a slave master isn't suppose to care how his slave feels, only what pleasure she can give him, but this wasn't Michelle's usual expression. Usually she looked resigned, although lately that had been changing to a look of pleasure mixed with the little discomforts I inflicted upon her. But this time she seemed depressed.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked, forgetting my slave master role.
At first I didn't think she was going to answer me but finally she whispered, "You haven't put those clamps on my nipples."
"Speak louder. And you want the pain of them on you?"
"I do not like pain. But they're sort of a ... well, a part of what you do to me."
"I can get them," I told her. And I was about to get up to fetch the metal devices designed to squash a female nipple in it's sharp bite, but she stopped me.
"Master, may I speak freely?"
"Yes," I granted.
"I have been watching some of the ways that Captain Eddie binds the other slavegirl. Some of those ways seem terribly tight and painful for her."
"I'm sure they are," I agreed.
"You don't have to put the clamps on my nipples to cause me pain. You could bind my arms very tightly, so tightly that they hurt."
This was the sweet innocent who asked me to take off the handcuffs a few minutes before so she wouldn't hurt so much? I looked into those pale eyes and found them aglow with an inner fire. Telling her to stay put, I went and fetched a few lengths of rope from the supply locker. When I came back, Michelle was in a kneeling position on the floor, sitting on her heels, back straight and head bowed.
I ordered her to her feet and was about to untie her crossed wrists so that I could retie them palm to palm and elbow touching elbows, when she interrupted me again. "Master, if you were to bind my elbows together while my wrists are crossed, it will be quite uncomfortable."
I looked at the way I had her wrists bound. There was rope wrapped around them both horizontally and vertically. If the elbows were pulled towards each other, the vertical ropes would tighten down and work to prevent the wrists from moving to a side by side position. It would, indeed, become uncomfortable. Hell, if I were to pull her elbows all the way until they touched, her wrists would be in real pain.
I looped the rope around her elbows and pulled them until I could see the ropes on the wrists tighten up. Then I pulled a little harder and heard her gasp as the wrists tried to uncross and couldn't. The elbows were about two inches apart and the rope around them was cutting deeply into the flesh.
"Does that hurt enough?" I asked. Then I cursed myself. I was a slave master, a giver .of pain and restraints and not a man who should allow a slavegirl to control the situation. I was about to tighten the rope a bit more then tie it off when she spoke.
"I'm sure that my Master will want to bind my elbows together," she said evenly.
Would you believe that a thrill raced through me? There is something special about a woman asking for more pain by your hand. And even more special when you give it to her. It's like when you're whipping a full, round female ass, thinking that you're causing her intolerable pain, when she cried out, "Harder! Oh, Master, harder!"
I put my free arm around her arms and pulled the elbows together, taking up the slack in the rope with my other hand. Then I wrapped the rope around and around her arms just below the elbows. When a dozen loops were holding her elbows tightly together, I let go with my arm and used both hands to cinch down the ropes and knot them. Then I turned Michelle around so I could look her in the eyes.
There was a small tear forming in one corner of her left eye. But a faint smile was tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Thank you, Master," she whispered. "I feel like a properly punished slavegirl now."
I looked at what a bit of rope on the elbows did to make her breasts stand out and felt my rod stiffen in my pants. There was also a strangely exciting feeling when I looked at her arms bound as they were. The ropes were cutting deeply into the soft flesh, and I knew that she had to be in considerable pain. Her hands had turned a darker color, and her forearms below the elbows were a shade darker, too, both signs that the circulation was impeded. But she did not complain.
"You look like a properly punished slavegirl," I agreed. "And now would you like to look like a properly screwed slavegirl?"
"Whatever my Master wants."
"And what if I were to tie your ankles together and hang you upside down in your cell for the whole night?" I asked. It wasn't really a threat but I did want to see what her answer would be.
"Whatever my Master wishes." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper and her eyes were turned down, not looking into mine. At that moment I really believed that if I were to hang her upside down in her cell and let her suffer all night long, she would not utter a single word in protest. She would accept her suffering. It made me feel wonderful and a little confused. I had always assumed that women hated the rough treatment they got as slaves. But here was a lovely girl actually asking for even rougher treatment. Amazing! I didn't hang her in her cell. Instead I gagged her, toyed with her body until she was panting around the gag and very, very juicy, then I sat down on the chair and guided her body over my extremely stiff rod. With her sitting on my lap, impaled deeply by my shaft, she moaned with pleasure. I began lifting her and lowering her on my shaft, sometimes bouncing her up and down. She was light enough so that it was easy enough to do. And, boy, did it feel good!
I tried to make it last as long as I could but there was a little too much excitement. I was dimly aware as I felt that wonderful tingle begin in my balls that she was also coming to a climax. It was very intense for both of us.
For a long time we just sat there, her sheath still impaled by my shaft although it was no longer a rigid rod. My arms were wrapped around her, each had firmly clamped onto a breast, and her painfully bound arms were pressed against my chest.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tour of a Slave Training Castle
House Shaden was a castle, there was no other word for it. Build of massive stones, perched atop a cliff overlooking a winding river, and looking as if it had withstood the battering of armies for hundreds of years. Which it probably had, from what I could tell of the violent history of Kronos. And it was huge, spreading out along the cliff edge for a considerable distance on both sides. Not more than a hundred yards off was an obviously newer complex including a small landing pad, air transports and a fair number of land transports. I gave a good look to those air transports for some of them seemed to be armed. If I were involved in trying to make a fast getaway, they would have to figure into my plans.
I pulled into the large parking lot before what seemed to be the main entrance and parked the transport. The thunderstorms of yesterday had departed, leaving the sky clear and the day warming up as if it wanted to become really hot. There a dozen transports already there, and a few more coming down the road. Fairly busy place, I noted. Which can be an advantage or a disadvantage to covert operations.
Inside the air of less humid, cooler and somehow cleaner. The human noses gets used to an alien planet pretty fast. Ancient the castle may appear on the outside, it was modern inside, complete with air conditioning and computers. The front desk was at least five yards long and made of a single plate of thick glass. Seated behind it was a lovely woman who I first thought was naked but found as I neared her was wearing a very brief loincloth of flesh tone. And high heels of black patent leather, a strange combination but not unpleasant at all. Her ankles were joined by thin golden chain with enough links so that she would have no trouble walking normally although the links would swirl on the floor with each step. Her wrists were similarly joined, again with a fair amount of distance between them. Obviously symbolic bondage rather than functional.
"Hello," she said with a wonderfully husky voice. "I'm slave Lelana. How may I help you?"
"I have an appointment to see your training facilities," I told her. "I talked to a Mr. Derek Troll yesterday."
"Yes, sir. I'll call him."
She touched a key on the pad before her. Then we waited, her smiling very professionally at me and I enjoying the view through the glass and wondering if there was anything under the loincloth. Couldn't be much if there was. I wondered what I could do to get her to stand up and walk away from me when a man suddenly appeared beside me. Maybe that's why they have a sexy receptionist, so they can sneak up on your while you're admiring her assets.
He introduced himself and I gave him my name and we shook hands. I could tell he was sizing me up. Hope I looked enough like a wealthy slaver to fool him. I was wearing one of the traditional costumes for slavers: black leather pants (a little too tight), a metallic red silk long sleeved shirt, and an open black leather vest. The blaster holstered on my right hip seemed to fit right in with the short riding crop hanging from my left hip. I noticed him eye the blaster but he didn't say anything about it.
"If you'll come this way, I'll show you some of the facilities," he said with a smile. He was smooth, I'll give him that. But I wouldn't buy a used transport from him.
I followed him around the glass table (glancing backwards to confirm that there was no back to the loincloth), and down a corridor done in ancient stone and lined with equally ancient paintings in niches. "The House Shaden has a long and glorious history on this planet," he informed. Lecture number one-B, from the sound of it. "When Kronos finally was united and the warring clans ceased the almost constant warfare, House Shaden turned to the new institution of off-planet slavery. And they became the leading house in their endeavors to both procure and train the finest slavegirls in the galaxy."
I endured the sales pitch because we had come to the first of the training rooms and more interesting subjects were available for my attention. The first room held three girls, all basic human stock without some of the unusual skin shades you find on worlds where human didn't originate. Each was naked and shackled with what looked like modifications to the same handcuffs I used back at the ship. Their wrists were locked behind them, and the ankles were connected by a short three links of chain, which would have made walking a frustrating exercise in shuffling. They wore collars of metal with chains coming down the back to their wrist shackles. Each was locked behind the bars of a tiny cage, all three in a row so that the girls couldn't see each other. Each was gagged with one of those plastic ball gags. Perhaps that was so they couldn't talk to each other. Or maybe, I figured, just to add to their torment.
They were fine looking women, I had to admit that, all young, firm of body and very sexy. Two of them looked at us nervously while the third curled up her lip in a silent snarl. I recognized the wild spirit in that one, having seen enough of it in our own Red.
"Our raider ships chose only the finest raw material from the best worlds, sometimes going out thousands of parsecs," he lectured. "These girls are fresh recruits, just beginning their training."
That's the word he used: recruits, as if they had signed up for a tour of duty as a slave.
"In this next room you will see some of the initial punishments given a new girl. Our first phase is simply to punish her for long periods of each day, and for no reason other than to show her that we can and will cause her pain. That is their first lesson in House Shaden."
There were two slaves in the next room. One was sitting astride a wooden beam and the other hung upside down by her ankles. A man was methodically whipping her bottom with a short whip and her cries of anguish filled the stone room. I stepped up for a closer look at the two trainees. This was interesting. The first girl was a lovely young thing with short clipped blonde hair and lovely, long muscular legs. She seemed to be in considerable pain and at first I couldn't figure out why. She was merely sitting on a wooden beam with her legs spread wide and tied down to rings in the floor. Her arms had been pulled behind her and up by her shoulder blades and bound there with thin rope. She was crying but the tightness of the ropes didn't seem enough to justify the tears, at least not from my experience. Then I saw that the wooden beam her bare sex was sitting on was not a square or round beam, but a triangular one, and one sharp edge was pointed up. I shuttered to think how that must have hurt the girl to have all her weight resting on that sharp edge. No wonder the tears!
The other girl was a few years older and had what must have been fine looking breasts, very large ones, but a pair that looked funny now because she was hanging by her ankles. Her wrists were bound together and then tied down to a ring in the floor directly under her. Rather tightly to judge from the strain apparent in her arms. Those massive breasts hung down (up?), almost touching her face. She was gasping and crying loudly each time the whip impacted upon the fleshy bottom. A closer look revealed that her rear had not been the only target. Vivid red marks and welts criss crossed her thighs both front and rear all the way up to her knees.
The soft sobs of the girl riding the sharp edge of wood were a strange counterpart to the loud cries and screams of the hanging girl. As we watched, the man came around to the other side and cut loose with a slash across her breasts. They jiggled wildly at the cut and she screamed a little louder. He then began marking up her breasts, a task that would take him longer than the bottom had since there was more territory to cover.
The next room held a device I recognized from one of the old movies, a rack. That was a wooden platform with a bar at one end and a windlass at the other. The victims ankles were bound to the bar and the hands tied together and then up to the windlass. When the barrel was turned, the rope coiled upon on it and pulled the arms. There was a rachet so the windlass could be clicked one notch at a time and hold taunt the unfortunate victim. In this case, the victim was a former citizen of Cha'Kaa, I could tell from the golden color of her skin and the shape of the ears. Her body was stretched out along the rack and had apparently been that way for some time. It looked as if every muscle in her body was taunt. The breasts were flatten by the stress of her body trying to become longer than it was, and she was moaning softly. I saw that she was gagged, and there were tear tracks along her cheeks and bare arms. A man came in and put his powerful arms on the spokes of the windlass. Leaning into the task, he moved the spokes until there was a clicking sound, followed by a increased whine of distress. The young woman seemed to be having trouble breathing, and I guessed that was one of the effects of stretching the female body beyond reasonable limits.
"How long has she been like that?" I asked casually.
"I would guess only a few hours," he replied. "The pulley is taken up an additional turn every fifteen minutes."
"Until...?"
"Until the pulley can no longer be tightened. Oh, we don't really try to pull the slaves apart," he laughed. "We just create a situation of considerable and constant pain by stretching the body and limbs in this manner."
"She seems to have fainted," I commented.
"They often do. She's come around in a few minutes. Sometimes the pain combined with the difficulty breathing becomes a bit too much for the girls. But we don't let that last long. An unconscious female is one who is not learning her lesson for that day."
"Right."
We went on.
I'll stop for a moment right now and admit something. If you promise not to tell anyone else, I'll admit that the scenes before me were turning me on. I was finding out that the restriction of and tormenting of female bodies is an aphrodisiac. Exciting, wonderful stuff. The whip kissing that hanging girl's body had created a tightness in my leather pants that was rather uncomfortable. Of course, not as uncomfortable as it was for her. This feeling was not new to me, I had experienced it before, even the first time that Eddie had locked the Wolfhome girls into handcuffs, and much more so when she whipped their asses. I had not taken slave Michelle to bed without her being well tied and in some kind of pain, even though I didn't have to. She would have allowed me to screw her. That said a lot about my discovery of an highly erotic and exciting world.
Having admitted to some sadist in me, I now continue my description of House Shaden.
. We visited several more training rooms. In each one or more young, curvy, sexy females were being subjected to various kinds of torture. One young thing that couldn't have been more than sixteen was hanging by her thumbs with her toes only an inch above the floor. Might as well have been a mile from the stones for all the good it did her. Another young teenager was being beaten lightly on the soles of her upturned feet as she lay on the harsh concrete floor. Her arms were bound behind her and her legs turned up at the knees and the ankles bound to a horizontal metal pipe. A man was slowly beating the bottoms of her feet with thin metal rods. He did it slowly and not apparently very hard but the girl cried out each time he struck. My host informed me that this procedure had been ongoing for two hours already and would continue for a couple more. The girl would, he assured me, be screaming with each light tap by the end of that time. And unable to walk for a few days.
There were other tortures but you get the idea. Only once did I see a girl who I felt was from Wolfhome. She was one of the advanced trainees, and wore a costume of nearly transparent blue silk that covered her from hips down to ankles, tighter at the top and bottom, and looser between. Her wrists were joined together in front and her ankles bore slender silver chains. At the moment we came upon her, she was kneeling before one of the male guards. As we stood there, she unfastened the front of his pants, extracted his penis, and leaned forward to place it in her mouth. The guard remained stern faced and unemotional during the procedure, although it did appear to me that his rod was growing in size under her loving attention.
"After reducing each slave to a state of total obedience and submission," my host droned on, "they are trained in all the know arts of sexual pleasure. Both for male masters and female mistresses."
I would be lying if I said that all those sights did not effect me. Truth is I was horny as hell after the tour. And grateful for the tightness of those pants. I guessed that why slavers usually wear either tight leather garments or flowing robes. Hides embarrassing bulges.
The tour ended in a room that I guessed was not far from the main entrance. I have a good sense of direction and could follow our path fairly well. I guessed that this room would be the last on the tour, and that maybe my host would expect an answer then. And I was ready.
But not for the final demonstration of their merchandise. The room was done in shades of brown, wood paneled walls, beams in the ceiling, and plush carpet underfoot. There were several comfortable chairs around a low table, what they used to call a "coffee table" in the old movies. Derek Troll opened a cabinet and punched the a button on the console within. "May I offer you a drink?" he asked politely.
"Scotch," I said. I figured if I were lucky, I'd get some Drobb scotch, a brand usually out of range of my budget. And the Drobb system wasn't too far from Kronos, so it wouldn't be hard for them to import the stuff. He handed me an old fashioned glass filled with amber liquid and a couple ice cubes. I sipped and was surprised to find how very smooth the scotch was. A second sip and there were subtle flavors dancing around my tongue. "This isn't...."
"It is Terran scotch," he said casually.
I sipped again and enjoyed the fire as it washed down my throat. No wonder the stuff cost so much. Pure nectar.
"As I'm sure you've seen, we have the finest facilities to train any slave, both in obedience and the pleasure arts. Please sit down."
The chair caressed by body in its leather softness.
"And I'm sure you noted that we do not employ any of the drug and electro conditioning some worlds do. We do things the old fashioned way, with the whip and steel hand. We feel that a slavegirl is better trained that way." He clapped his hands.
A curtain parted and into the room came a tall, dark haired girl dressed in silks of faded russet. She walked on high heels and swayed delightfully as she came forward. I was enjoying the sight of a fine body not very well hidden behind a pair of diaphanous harem girl pants and vest open in front. As she came closer, I realized that if she wasn't one of the Wolfhome captive girls, she could certainly pass for one. Her wrists were encircled by slender bands which were joined by a delicate silver chain. It didn't hamper her any, as with the receptionist, it was more of a badge of office. She knelt before me and touched her face to the carpet in utter submission. Then she straightened, stuck out those lovely breasts and asked, "May I pleasure you, Master?"
Under ordinary circumstances I would have wholeheartedly agreed that, indeed, she was welcome to do just that. Just lay back and spread your legs, sweet one. But this was one of the girls I had come to try and rescue, and that cast a little different light on the possibility. Besides there was this Troll guy standing there with a silly grin on his face. I'm not in the habit of performing my sexual indulgences before an audience.
"She has been trained to perform a large number of sexual acts...." he offered. "She is quite good with her mouth and tongue ... And she's trained to make a normal screwing very pleasurable for the man. Or if you wish to take her in the rear...?"
The girl leaned forward and gently kissed my leather pants-right on the bulge. A shiver raced down my spine. I sucked in breath and fought a loosing battle to find a reason why I shouldn't take them up on the very kind offer. After all, she was trained to do exactly this. And it would be an insult in some cultures to refuse a girl when she's offered to you. I had heard that on Lettanius V they will cut off your dong if you don't use it when a man offers you his wife. Or was it daughter? Whatever. I didn't want to give insult here on Kronos.
Getting the leather pants part way down was a bit of a struggle but the girl helped me. Then she gently guided me to lean back in the chair and shift my hips forward. Once positioned, she took my rigid rod in her hands and guided it towards those lovely lips. I sighed as her soft mouth enfolded my member.
A part of me said that I was only being buttered up for a sale, and that real Earth scotch and a very obliging and lovely female slavegirl were only part of that sale pitch. The silver chain joining her wrists jingled as she worked her magic on me. It wasn't long before I could feel the buzz telling me that I was about to climax. Audience or no, that girl was so damned good that I couldn't help myself. It didn't help that the sight of all those gorgeous naked female slaves being trained had worked me up into a high state of readiness. I tried not to make much noise as I climax but I did hear a loud moan of pleasure that I think came from me. She expertly sucked me dry and licked my tool clean before backing off to kneel once again on the floor. She sat on her heels, back straight, hands resting beside her, and head bowed, a perfect picture of submission.
I hustled my pants back up. Trying not to look too sheepish (or pleased), I thanked Mr. Troll for the demonstration, and agreed that she was, indeed, very well trained. Part of my mind was wondering if Michelle could be trained as well but then she was rather docile to begin with. Too easy. Maybe Red...?
But back to business.
"Is this slave from Wolfhome?" I asked.
One eyebrow shot up. "You know about the planet called Wolfhome?" he asked.
"Know about it? I have three raws captured there only a week ago."
For the first time he seemed flustered. "I had been assured that we were the only ones who knew the location of that world," he finally managed to get out.
"Well, there's two of us now." I tried not to sound cocky. Mostly I wanted to talk about slaves from Wolfhome to find out if Princess Adrianne was still there and perhaps available. "I have three in my ship. I was looking to have you train them since I don't have the facilities or the knowledge. I was told you people are the best."
The flattery seemed to calm him down. "That is true. As you can see, we can certainly train even warrior women such as those from Wolfhome."
"Do you have any ready for sale?"
"This girl is available," he said eagerly, a salesman smelling a sale.
"Others? I like them," I said honestly. "But they are hard to train, aren't they? They hate men and are used to fighting."
"We can train any female," he said stiffly. "As to others, there are some who's training is coming to conclusion."
"Perhaps we could make a trade ... My three raws for one trained one?" I could see the dollar signs ringing up behind his eyes. That would be a very good trade for them. It doesn't cost them much to do the actual training, and in a month or two they'd have three high priced slavegirls to replace the one I walked away with.
"That could be done," he agreed. "Provided that you raws are of quality...?"
I took out a holocube and set it down on the low table. I clicked it one and settled back to sip some more of that fine scotch. The cube glowed and then projected its image into the air above it. The holographic projection was of my three clients, all wearing their slave shackles and all naked. I had recorded the cube before leaving the ship. Each image was-three feet tall, about half life size. Each girl turned slowly, glaring at the camera as if they didn't wish to obey. Thala actually snarled at one point. They put on a good show. The projection was very life-like, you could count all the fading and fresh whipmarks on their bodies.
I could see Troll almost drooling. They were fine specimens and he was eager to get his hands on them.
"I'm sure that Shaden will approve of such an exchange," he finally said.
I casually waved towards the cube. "You can keep that to show him. Shaden is the boss?"
"The head of House Shaden is always called The Shaden or just Shaden. Tal Harra Shaden is the current Shaden." He paused in the family history to wave a hand towards the girl kneeling on the floor. "I'm sure that you will be very happy with this one. You can sell her for a very good price ... Or keep her for your personal use." He positively leered.
"I would like to see what other trained Wolfhome girls you have," I said.
"They are all fine merchandise," he offered. "I'm sure that you will find this one to be the best."
"Well, perhaps. But still I'd like to see the other merchandise. If you have a girl that I like and she's not fully trained yet, I can wait."
Once again he was all business. "I would suggest that you bring your raws over and if they're as good as the projection suggests, then we'll let you have your pick of the others."
"Good enough," I said good naturedly. Apparently he wasn't going to trot them out right then for my approval. Which was too bad. I tried one more time to find out if the Princess was there. "Have you sold any of the Wolfhome slaves yet?"
"No. Several are trained and will be sold shortly. This one, for example. Others are in various stages of training."
That sounded good. If none had been sold, then the Princess should still be there.
The rest was anticlimactic (literally for me). We made an appointment for me to bring out my raws that afternoon and I was shown out, politely but firmly. The only additional piece of information I learned was as Troll walked away from me. I had noticed that the guard wore swords. Which made me wonder. That was either for decoration or something else. The something else was confirmed when I noticed the small square pack attached to his belt in the small of his back: a personal defense shield. I walked slowly back to my transport, thinking furiously.
This was not going to be easy. The place was a fortress, well armored and manned by numerous guards. It might have been mainly to keep slaves from escaping but it also could be to keep would be rescuers from getting in. And those guards were equipped with personal shields, I was sure of it. That explained the swords. With blasters being very common, and leather or metal armor being useless against them, another form of defense had to be thought of. The personal shields were that defense. When activated, they surrounded the wearer with a force field that deflected blaster beams. An army could come blasting in and they'd get cut down. Literally. An energy weapon couldn't penetrate but a slow, physical blade could. Hence the swords.
On the drive back, a plan was forming in my mind. Not a great one, but the best I could come up with.
"That's a stupid plan!" declared Captain Eddie. "You want to take the girls right into a fortress full of slave trainers, naked and shackled, and the only one with a weapon will be you? And then hope you can take the head man prisoner and trade him for all the Wolfhome girls!"
"More or less," I agreed. "I was assured that Shaden himself would be there to look over my raws," I paused to nod to the three girls who sat at the table with us. "If I can get him, I'm sure he'll be glad to trade his life for a few slaves. If not, then I'll turn him over to you three. Maybe you can persuade him."
Thala's lip curled up in a silent snarl and I knew that those three would love to get their hands on the man who had kidnapped their Princess. I felt better that they were on my side. And that they were still chained up.
"Are you sure that the Princess is there?" asked Fauna. "Did you see her?"
"No. I saw four different girls who looked like they were from Wolfhome, but none was the Princess. I know what she looks like, I studied those videos you gave me of her. But he did say that they hadn't sold any girls yet. She has to be there."
"And what are you going to do if you can't grab him? Just go ahead and give them the girls?" Eddie sounded very disbelieving. And very concerned for my three clients.
"No, I won't do that." I was firm in that belief but couldn't really say how I would guarantee it. Which left the two of us staring at each other. It was Thala who decided the matter.
"I can think of no better plan," she said quietly. "And I doubt any of you can, either. Therefore I say that we will do as Adjustor O'Connor says. I am willing to risk my life for my Princess." Rhonda and Fauna nodded in silent agreement.
Eddie sighed loudly. But she didn't protest.
"We'll leave in about two hours," I told them, taking charge. I knew that this operation had to have one firm leader, and I was the logical choice. Eddie couldn't march into that place with the girls in tow, those men just wouldn't want to deal with a woman. Besides, I had a different task for her.
"Captain?" I said to get her attention. "When you were in the Academy, did you go over ground attack training?"
"Of course."
"Well, then I've got a part for you in this caper. And a few other things I want to fix up before me go. Here's a drawing of the layout of that place. This is the landing pad for air transports and here's were the ground transports are parked. And here's what I want you to do...."
The briefing went on. The couple other things I wanted to fix took almost an hour. Couching the girls in their parts and making sure that they would take orders from me once we were inside took another hour. Then it was time to go.
Eddie and I changed the restrains from handcuffs to rope binding their arms very tightly behind them. It was customary for slaves being transported to be bound with very tight, thin cord and with the elbows together behind them. It not only keep them from using their hands and arms, but also was painfully uncomfortable. And a slavegirl in constant pain is much easier to handle. These were suppose to be raw slaves from a warrior culture, anything less in the way of restraints would look funny.
But I did a few things to the bindings before escorting them down to the transport. Their ankles were kept locked in the standard legirons.
As we pulled into the parking place and I shut down the engine, I turned to the girls. None of us felt much like smiling. I'd been in a few fire fights and knew the sour feeling in the pit of your stomach that fear brings. Maybe the girls felt that too. Or maybe the only thing on their minds was rescuing the Princess. I faced possible death from sword point or blaster beam, but they faced a lifetime of slavery. And I had told them what I saw inside that place, they knew it would be no picnic.
I inserted a ball gag into their mouths (normal transportation procedure) and patted each one on the shoulder in encouragement. Then I locked a chain to their legirons so that they could walk in single file line only and about three feet apart. Also standard procedure. I checked my weapons and we were ready.
Derek Troll met us at the receptionist area. He was all smiles when he saw the girls. Each of them was at least as beautiful as the one who had ... ah, serviced me, and he seemed to be very pleased. He led us into the last room of the tour and we waited for the big man to come.
As we waited my three clients shifted about uneasily on chain linked ankles and looked about nervously. They had been tied with elbows joined behind them for about an hour and the strain was showing. These were big girls, not small, delicately built women, and having their arms pulled so tightly behind them was uncomfortable from the first minute and growing worse. But no slaver would ever have transported three large, warrior female raws in anything less. Many, in fact, would have bound them then locked them inside one of those maximum security boxes.
Tal Harra Shaden came in, followed by Derek Troll who was leading a couple Wolfhome girls by a leash to their neck collars. Each girl was dressed in black leather briefs (sort of like the old fashioned bikini bottoms but very tight), high heels and an arm binder that consisted of a leather sheath that covered the arms from fingertips to just below the shoulders. The arm binders were laced up tightly until their elbows were forced together, had straps buckled over the laces, and had two more straps going over the shoulders to keep the whole thing from being pulled down. The whole outfit displayed their bodies to best advantage. As soon as the group reached us and stopped, both girls sank to their knees where they waited humbly. Their eyes had been turned down as they walked in and I didn't think they saw my three Wolfhome girls.
My girls sucked in air and I was glad that I had gagged them or they might have said something that would give away the whole show right there and then.
After introductions and pleasantries, Shaden looked over my girls. They glared at him and I think would have spit in his face if they hadn't been gagged. At the moment I was also glad that their arms were tightly bound behind them and their feet shackled. They looked as if they wanted to tear this man apart with their bare hands. And I think they could have, too, even though he was a large man and solidly built.
"You have fine raws here," he said with a smile. "Where did you get them?"
It was my turn to smile. "Probably the same place you got yours. From the factory, so to speak."
"Then you know where their home world is? I had thought only we knew that."
"Secrets are impossible to keep," I said sagely. "But if it's any consolation, my source stumbled onto the planet accidently. There's no leak in your organization."
He seemed glad to hear that. Turning to the two kneeling slavegirls, he waved a hand in invitation. "These two are fully trained. You may chose either and be happy."
One of the two was the same girl who gave me the demonstration earlier that day. But neither of them were the Princess.
"I believe you have others," I said. "Could I see them?"
"Their training is not yet complete. Surely you would prefer one of these?"
"I would prefer to see what is available. I could easily wait until the training is completed. But I have a client who wishes a special slave. These Wolfhome girls come close to what he wants. Perhaps if you have one who is a little taller? Of more regal appearance than these?" I knew I was taking a chance almost asking for the Princess that way, but I had to take the gamble. I had to make sure the Princess was there before I made my move. I sure could have used some of that Terran scotch to calm my nerves about then.
Shaden thought for a few seconds, then lifted one bushy eyebrow. "Very well, we will show you the others. But there is very little difference-they are all first rate."
There was a tiny beep from Shaden's belt. "Please excuse me," he muttered and went to a wall communication console. With restrained anger her punched a key. "What is it! I've told you not to disturb me when I'm with a client."
I could just make out the voice telling him, "It is important! The Emperor is coming! He wishes to see that Wolfhome Princess for himself."
Shaden's lips moved and I was sure it was a curse. "When?" he snarled. "He's here," replied the nervous voice. This time Shaden muttered several curses out loud. "Have someone bring her here and then show him in," he ordered then banged his fist against the console.
Returning to me, he offered an apology. "A very important matter has come up, an important visitor. Troll here will be glad to show you the stock we have. I cannot accompany you."
There was a strange mixture of both fear and greed in this man's eyes. Thinking fast, I came to the conclusion that this Emperor was important (they usually are dictators in aggressive cultures such as this one), and that he hoped to sell the Princess to him, either for a large price or to curry special favors from the head man of the planet. I wondered if this was going to screw our plans or maybe help us.
"Did I hear that you're bringing one of the Wolfhome slaves here?" I asked innocently. "I would like to see her."
"This one is not for sale," he said quickly. 'Troll will be happy to show you all that are available. If you will follow him. Troll, show Mr. O'Connor the holding cell where he can store his raws. And get these two out of here."
Before the orders could be obeyed, a door opened and in came the head man himself. Actually, he didn't look all that important, just an average sized man dressed in a semi-military type uniform, bedecked with medals and fancy braid. Two aides walked behind him, their uniforms much plainer, indicating to me that they were body guards. That was confirmed by both huge blasters and swords on their hips. More complications. Maybe this wasn't going to work out at all.
"Your Majesty!" cried Shaden, sinking down to one knee. "Welcome to House Shaden."
I noticed that Troll was also kneeling on one knee. The Emperor looked at me with disdain, so I bowed my head slightly as a salute. He sneered but, recognizing me as an off-worlder, accepted that.
"You told me you had an exceptional slave to show me," he said in a surprisingly high voice. "We are ready to inspect this one."
"Yes, your Majesty. She is coming," Shaden said, rising to his feet. "I'll just get this customer out and we can get on with it."
We were again interrupted by a door opening. This time it was a guard. At the end of the leash in his hand was a Wolfhome girl, one a little taller and even more impressive of figure than those already in the room. And that was saying a lot. As she came closer I heard a gasp from behind me. My clients had recognized their Princess before I did. They would have stepped forward had I not motioned them back.
For a long second the scene seemed frozen, no one moving or saying a word. Having been an adjustor in some messy situations helps a man know when to strike and when not to. If I had scripted the scene, I couldn't have done better. Here was a man much more important than Shaden, here was the Princess, and here we were. Time to move.
Without seeming to hurry, I pulled my blaster from my left hip holster and pointed it as the two body guards. I caught the first one before his hand could move for his own weapon. The narrow blue-white beam of light struck him squarely in the chest, burning a neat hole there. He was dead before he began falling backwards.
The second body guard had his blaster half out of his holster. I swung my weapon around and snapped two quick shots in his direction. The first hit him in the shoulder. The second missed, going between his arm and body. But the first had been enough. His arm went lifeless and the blaster fell from his figners to the floor. A third shot directly to the head put him out of action. Permanently.
Several things happened at once after that. The first to react correctly was the guard who had brought in the Princess. One hand went down to his belt, touched it and suddenly there was a crackling sound like a giant zipper, and he was surrounded by a pale blue glow-his personal defense shield. Less than a second later Troll was surrounded by the same glow, and Shaden right after him. The Emperor was the last to activate his shield.
My blaster was now useless. Those shields would absorb the energy. My hand went down to my own belt and before anyone else could draw a blaster, I was surrounded by a shield too. I could hear the hum of the tiny generator and saw everything through a faint azure haze. My skin tingled, but that was normal effect of the shields.
No one could use a blaster but there were other weapons. The first guard had already drawn his sword and was advancing upon me, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Troll backed off but then reached for a dagger attached to his belt. Shaden hissed at me and moved to place himself between me and the Emperor, the latter having begun taking backward steps to get out of danger. Shaden also drew a very wicked looking dagger.
I should have been dead meat. There were four men with bladed weapons and my blaster was useless against them. I holstered it and went for my secret weapon in the other holster.
The most danger was from the guard who had brought in the Princess. While the others stood in defensive postures, he was advancing with the intent to skewering yours truly. Or maybe hacking me to pieces, it was a double bladed sword.
But I wasn't about to allow this to happen. I have a fondness for keeping my body in one piece and the skin intact. My right hand came up, and lined up the weapon squarely at the approaching man. He must have thought it was another blaster for a sneer curled up his lip and he kept on coming, obviously feeling completely safe behind his shield. I squeezed the trigger and a loud boom suddenly filled the room.
The guard was thrown backwards. A 45 caliber slug does that to a man. I swung the automatic around to cover the other men. They were staring in disbelieve at the mess I had made of the guard. The bullet had made a small hole going in but a big one going out.
"Drop your knives!" I ordered. They didn't. "This is a projectile weapon," I explained in a loud voice so they would be sure to hear it over the hum of their shields. "It propels a lead slug by chemical explosion. It is not energy, so it will go through a shield. And it travels fast enough to do a lot of damage. Now drop those knives."
They looked at each other, at the ancient Earth weapon in my hands and then at their Emperor who was looking very frightened and not even going for the sword at his side. I could see in their eyes that defending the Emperor was more important to them then their lives, which made them dangerous to me. They probably thought that this was an attempt on the Emperor's life.
"I do not wish to harm the Emperor," I told them. "I only came for certain slave girls you have. Give them to me and let me leave, and you all will live."
Couldn't make it any plainer than that, could I? Still it took them several long seconds to realize that I held all the cards. What finally decided them was when I pointed out that I could have killed the Emperor already if I wanted to. They laid down their knives.
"Now turn off your shields." They did. That made me feel better.
I turned off my shield. Those things make your skin get all itchy after a few minutes and I never have liked them. With the automatic in one hand, I touched another portion of my belt. The tiny radio sensitive explosive threads I had woven into the ropes binding my clients arms flared for a fraction of a second, then the ropes parted in numerous places. A second later each of the girls was jerking the last of the ropes off and grinning wickedly. I tossed Thala the key for their legirons and she went to work freeing their feet.
All three men before me stared in disbelieve at the sight of a slaver freeing three Amazons slaves. But disbelief turned to fear when the girls picked up swords and advanced to take up positions around our captives.
"Now you're going to obey some orders or I'll let these girls have their way with you," I told them. "And they've seen all the whip marks on their Princess. I'm sure that there is no love in their hearts for you."
I noticed that the girls had armed themselves even before they unbuckled and pushed out the ball gags from their mouths-warrior thinking. They were working their jaws to get out the stiffness but glaring at the three men before us.
"Shaden, you get on that communications device. Order that all the Wolfhome slaves be brought to this room. Tell them you wish to show them to the Emperor. And no tricks. I'll be standing right next to you with this gun in your ribs. And Thala will be standing next to your Emperor with a sword in her hand."
He didn't want to but had no choice. By the time he had given the orders, I could see that his fear for the Emperor's (and his own) life was being replaced by the fear of loosing a great many very costly slaves.
Slowly the girls trickled into the room. Theta had removed the leather sheath from the Princess' arms and the others had burned off the shackles from the two girls kneeling. I had all the girls hide out of sight of the doorway, and Shaden stand there to take possession of each girl as she was delivered. That way the guards making the deliveries couldn't see all those slavegirls running around with no shackles or other restraints upon them.
The funny part was that the Princess just stood there, apparently in a daze. But then she had just been through almost two months in incredibly brutal training. I figured that later, after we were all safely out of there, she could thank me for saving her ass.
The girls came in secured in various restraints. Some were shackled with handcuffs and legirons, but many were bound with rope, and one was locked into a very tight leather straitjacket. Fauna and Rhonda took charge of freeing each girl as she came in, untying what they could, burning off anything that they didn't have the key for. Some of the girls were in such bad condition that they could hardly stand. After having seen their "training" in person, I could understand why.
Finally there were twenty-three girls standing around, looking both happy and afraid. That was not counting the three I brought in with me, who were looking very triumphant. Shaden announced that all where present.
Theta shoved the point of her sword under his chin, forcing his head back and drawing a little blood. "There were twenty-nine warriors taken from our world," she hissed. "Where are the rest?"
He had difficulty talking without moving his chin, "Three didn't take well to the training. Sold them to a brothel that didn't care if the girls were tied down all the time. A few died. There are always some loses when you train them this way. Ouch! That's the truth! These are all that are left."
I pulled out my communicator and thumbed it on. "O'Connor to Golden Girl," I said into the mike. "Ready for pickup." A tiny voice acknowledge my message.
As we waited, Fauna and Rhonda amused themselves by stripping Troll and the Emperor naked and hogtying them with some of the rope still warm from slavegirl bodies. Thala looked like she was ready to slit Shaden's throat. I touched her on the arm and suggested that she not do anything extreme right then.
"Piss on that!" she said through clenched teeth. "This asshole deserves much worse than death for what he has done to the Princess."
"Shaden," I addressed to him. "In the future, should you consider another raid on Wolfhome, I would suggest you remember this moment and how close you are to death. Or worse. That planet will be getting modern orbital defenses specifically designed to prevent a slaver raid. No more Wolfhome women will become slaves. And if anyone from your world should even try, I'll personally lead a team of these girls back here to deal with you."
I made that little speech without heat or anger in my voice. Perhaps that made him realize that I was telling the truth. When the sword lowered a bit, he nodded acquiescence. Thala then turned him over to Fauna and Rhonda for stripping and hogtying.
What I had been waiting for then happened. The building shook, followed by a muffled thud. A second later my communicator beeped.
"That's the signal, let's go!" I ordered.
While Fauna and Rhonda, armed with shields, blasters and swords, began escorting all the former slavegirls towards the entrance and outside, Thala stayed behind. When the last girl was gone, she told me to leave.
"What are you planning?" I asked even though I was pretty sure I knew.
"I'm going to make sure these bastards loose interest in slavegirls."
The Emperor began to whine, Troll gasped, and Shaden turned pale.
"This is an aggressive culture," I told her. "A warrior race. What you propose would create a vendetta, a blood feud, of this. These men could not let that insult stand." I looked her straight in the eye. "Right now, this is a financial loss to them. And an embarrassment. But they'll get over that. You do what you're thinking and it will become much more."
"But they tortured my Princess!" she said with heat. "They tortured her!"
"Yes. But we have come in here, killed guards, blasted their defenses, destroyed transports, and taken a fortune in valuable merchandise from them. Isn't that enough?"
Thala glared at me. Then, almost in a whisper, she said, "No, it isn't."
"Thala, don't make it a matter of honor for these men. I don't care if you hack off important and beloved parts of them, I agree that they deserve it. But think about what that might mean. Many, many others might die because of it. And they might even succeed in kidnapping more Wolfhome girl. Revenge is a powerful motivation."
"But I can't just walk away from this bastard!"
I saw a tear form at one corner of her eye.
I turned to Shaden. "Are the men of Kronos men of honor?" I asked him, pretty sure of what the answer would be.
"Of course. We have always been warriors, and warriors know honor."
"This woman is a warrior, too," I said formally. "If she defeated you in fair combat, would the next Shaden consider that cause for a blood feud?"
His eyebrows lifted. "No. That would be between me and her."
I turned back to Thala. "Well?"
She grinned. With a cry of "fair enough", she slit the bonds that held him.
He rose to his feet with a evil grin of his own. A couple feet away lay the sheathed sword of the Emperor, tossed aside when he was disrobed. Shaden, keeping his eye on Thala, circled around and picked it up. It looked to be at least six inches longer than Thala's and heavier.
. The Amazon brought her sword straight up before her eyes in a salute. "For honor," she said formally.
But Shaden was not waiting for ritual. He lunged forward, sword held straight out, aimed for the bare breast over her heart. Thala parried but only just in time, the point tracing a line of red across her shoulder instead of plunging into her heart.
I'll admit that I'm not one for ancient swords and such. Give me a fully charged blaster any day. Or that ancient projectile weapon I had made custom for me after seeing it in several of the movies. I figured that some day it would come in useful, and it had. But these two were warriors trained, probably from birth, to use blade weapons. Steel rang against steel, and the silvery blades moved at times almost faster than the eye could follow. Thrust, parry, counter-thrust. Vicious slices that could have decapitated had they connected. A strange contest of naked man, naked woman, and naked blades.
Then it was over. Shaden might have been stronger but Thala was driven by an inner rage. Her blade sliced a deep cut on his sword arm, then she spun around and sweep horizontally with a two-handed cut. There was a look of surprise on his face when his head flew past me.
I looked down at the Emperor. "Was it a fair combat?" I asked. He nodded. "Was honor served?" Another nod. "Then this issue is ended?" He closed his eyes but nodded a third time.
I swatted Thala on the bottom and ordered her to run for the ship.
The Golden Girl was sitting on the landing pad right where I had expected her to be. Beyond her were the smoking ruins of several air transports and the main defensive weapons. Her bombing had been pinpoint accurate. Thala and I dashed up the ramp and I slammed a fist against the interlock. As the hatch began closing, I was on the communicator yelling for Eddie to get us out of there. No telling when reinforcements might show up.
It was crowded inside. This size star ship, having never been designed to hold more than ten people, now held three times that number. And all (save Eddie) were naked, beautiful women. That is a contented sigh you heard from me.
I worked my way into the control room where Eddie was keying in commands. As soon as we were clear of the atmosphere, we jumped.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wrap Up
It would have been nice to say that everyone lived happily ever after. But things don't always work out the way you want them to. Once we were safely away from Kronos and jumping towards Wolfhome, there occurred an event that was to change the lives of several people forever.
The ship was on automatic and most of us had gathered in the lounge. I had fetched a beer from the galley and was sitting back, unwinding. Thala and Fauna were talking to the Princess, who didn't seem to be answering them. Eddie was sitting on a table, eyeing all the naked, dark-haired beauties around like a little child peering through the window of a candy store.
Suddenly Princess Adrianne left the girls and came towards me. She was still naked and I had to admit that her figure was the best of all them, and that was saying a lot. I was about to stand up accept her formal thanks when she sank to her knees. She bowed until her head touched the floor, then she straightened. Sitting back on her heels, wrists crossed behind her, back straight, and head bowed, she said, "How may I please you, Master?"
You could have heard a pin drop in that crowded room. Suddenly everyone was silently staring at the incredible scene of a Princess kneeling before a simpie, non-royal adjustor.
"Princess, a simple thank you will be enough," I began.
"I am no longer a princess," she said in a wonderfully husky and sexy voice. "I am a slavegirl who's only wish is to serve her Master."
Well! They certainly train them well in the House Shaden.
While I was thinking of something to say, Thala walked up with a stern look on her face. She stopped before the kneeling Princess. For a long few seconds she merely looked down. The Princess bowed her head again. Then Thala swung her arm. The slap sounded very loud in that room. Then Thala walked away.
"What the hell is this?" I asked.
Thala looked back at me. "She is no longer our Princess. No Princess of the Warrior Women may act as she had."
"Thala, you can't do that. Can you?"
Thala softened and came over to me. "I fear the training she had has changed her. She is no longer fit to be a princess."
I couldn't believe we had all risked our lives, and the girls risked lifelong slavery, to save this woman, and then they dump her fifteen minutes later. "What is to become of her then?" I asked.
"Apparently she's yours," replied Thala coolly and with more than a trace of sarcasm.
"Mine?!"
"You heard her. Remember those videos? Once a girl has been trained such as they did to her, she wants only to be a slavegirl. And serve a male master." The last sentence was dripping with displeasure. "You can have her."
I looked down at the incredibly beautiful woman kneeling'at my feet and gulped.
"Of course, Adrianne came from a very wealthy family. She is very rich." Thala was saying that matter-of-factly but there was a slight trace of irony in her voice. Or maybe it was jealousy. Or anger? Whatever. "She owns that hunting lodge," she went on. "In fact, the whole island. About three hundred square miles. I guess she'll expect you to take that over. As her guardian or something."
I noticed that she couldn't bring herself to say the word "Master."
"All that I am, all that I have, is yours, Master," said the bowed head before my feet. Thala didn't like the silly grin on my face.
Well, everything worked out fine. I'm living in my hunting lodge on Wolfhome with my six beautiful slavegirls. Four of the trained Wolfhome girls chose to stay with the former princess. It was the four who's training had finished, and I suspect it was because they wanted to have a man to serve and none of the males (pathetic bunch of whimps) on Wolfhome would even know what to do with them. So I inherited the Princess and four ladies in waiting, so to speak. All of whom insist upon remaining naked and chained at all times. Well, except for those times when I'm punishing them, often with extremely tight rope bondage, which they all seem to love.
And the sixth? Well, I offered to give Michelle her freedom, even to take her back to her home world. But she said that she liked Wolfhome, all the pine trees and clear blue lakes and such, and she "sort of liked me, and ... Well, she volunteered to remain a slavegirl for me.
And before you assume that I have the perfect life, let me tell you that Michelle is jealous of Adrianne, and the two are always playing dirty tricks on each other. One time I found Michelle bound and hanging upside down in the kitchen while Adrianne and two other slavegirls pelted her with leftovers from the fridge. And the next day I found Adrianne staked out on an ant hill. Little tricks like those. But they keep life from being boring.
Even though I have to constantly be punishing one or the other of them, I really have come to love my slaves, every one of them. I still call Adrianne "Princess" but now it's a nickname, not a title. And I'm constantly surprised at how much they taught those girls at House Shaden (whom we have not heard a peep from), and how many ways they know to pleasure a man. There's this trick that Colleen does with her tongue that ... Well, never mind.
And Captain Eddie? She's still charting out the Golden Girl. She left one of the cabins fitted out with the slavegirl cells. Why? Well, it gives her a place to keep Red. The girl speaks Basic quite well now but still remains wild and untamed. I think Eddie likes her that way. Every time they visit, Red is tightly bound, gagged, and wearing a mixture of faded and fresh whip marks. The last .time the showed up, Red had beautiful gold rings through pierced nipples.
I have discovered both the need for and pleasure to be found in whipping female flesh. It keeps them in line and eager to please me. Not that I ever mark my slaves up very much, just enough to make them cry out loudly and squirm in whatever manner I have them bound. And a little scream now and then, just to remind them that I'm the Master.
