Luke Blackmoor paused before the gleaming VIP doors and took a deep breath, a little anxious about what he would find on the other side of them. He had been well briefed, of course, but now the moment was upon him, he couldn't help remembering that no-one had ever been in his position before, and he couldn't be completely sure that everything would go according to plan.
Adjusting his clothing one final time, he turned to the starship Captain standing at his side and nodded his okay.
"See you in a month," said the Captain, pressing the door release, and Luke stepped out onto the planet Hedonia.
There was no evidence of the huge arrivals terminal into which the ship had been steered, nor of that vehicle's massive bulk towering above him. He walked down the silent, carpeted exit chute and found himself in a large but unremarkable hall in which a delegation was waiting to meet him.
Two tall, imposing men stood side by side, with a uniformed guard of six soldiers close behind them. Luke recognized the older of the two immediately. It was the President himself, his face familiar from Luke's briefings and the occasional news report back home. He was dressed all in black with a gold insignia on his top, and while his hair was gray and his face a little wrinkled, he was obviously very fit, and radiated health.
A strong leader, in the prime of his life and career.
The younger man was also dressed in plain black, and was thinner, with an angular face and short dark hair. His expression was formal, but his eyes betrayed friendliness with a touch of curiosity.
"Welcome to Hedonia," said the President, extending a hand. "As the first United Planets independent observer ever to visit us, I'd like you to be assured of our goodwill, and extend every courtesy to you for the duration of your stay."
Here, the President indicated his colleague. "Jed is my personal Aide, and has been assigned to spend the next month showing you around and helping you with your brief. We're anxious to create a good impression."
Luke and Jed shook hands.
"I'm happy to be here," said Luke, pleased, in fact, that his welcome had been so cordial. After all, his was a very sensitive assignment, and all parties were very well aware of it.
He reached into his jacket. "These are my papers. As you'll know, my purpose here is merely to observe and report. I hope my presence won't inconvenience you too much."
"Not at all," said the President. "But please, we have some drinks set aside through here, if you'd care to join us."
They walked a little way and entered a smaller and more sumptuously decorated room, at one side of which a large table had been laid out with drinks and attractive snacks. One of the guards fixed drinks for the three men, who seated themselves in some comfortable chairs which awaited, and all made an effort to chat a little and appear to be at ease.
After a short while, though, Jed set his glass down and addressed Luke with some seriousness.
"We've been giving some thought to how to introduce you to our way of life here, which is obviously different to your own, and have decided that it has to be something akin to total immersion from the start. We don't want to isolate you too much, and it's going to be difficult even taking you out of this room if we wait until we've explained everything before letting you see us as we are. All I'm trying to say, Luke if I may call you that is that you must bear with us initially, and perhaps save some of your questions until later. We anticipate your being shocked by what you see once we pass out into the public part of the terminal, but if we can just get to the President's residence, where you'll be staying, we'll give you as much information as you want. After all, you've got a month here, and we have no intention of keeping anything from you."
Shortly after this speech, Luke was ushered towards another door which slid open and, flanked by the guards, the three of them stepped out into a public concourse.
Luke's first impression was that the sight was quite familiar. Check-in desks, escalators, advertising hoardings, and a crowd of busy people rushing to and fro.
A second later, he realized that there was something strange going on several people seemed to be on the floor and there was an impression of vertical movement people dropping down and getting up.
Then, with a shock, he caught sight of some naked breasts in the crowd, and even more shocking, a naked posterior flashing in his direction.
Inadvertently he felt himself flushing with embarrassment. Naked female flesh quite so blatantly on display in public places was not at all something which could be seen in the transport termini back home, or indeed on any other planet he knew of.
"This way," said Jed, touching Luke's arm, and they walked towards a distant sign marked 'Exit'.
Now Luke could observe the behavior going on around him and work out what was happening. The crowd was a mixture of men and women, and the women were smartly and relatively conventionally dressed. Shortish skirts and variously styled tops in a variety of colors and patterns. Some carried bags and briefcases, some walked in pairs, chatting. It all looked quite normal, except for what Luke could see was happening every few seconds.
As a woman chanced to cross their path this one was very young and blonde she dropped to her knees, just in front of them, but not blocking their way, lifted up her top in one quick movement and shook her naked breasts at them! The party kept walking, and as they passed her, Luke noticed she was saying something in a quiet monotone. He looked back and saw her rise to her feet again, drop her top, and carry on her way as if nothing had happened.
A moment later, the same thing happened again, this time with an older woman whose breasts were hardly attractive. Again she did it with no change of expression, and began immediately to recite some sort of incantation.
The third time a woman came hurrying towards them, however, something different occurred. She dropped to her knees, but turning away from them, and lowered her head to the floor. Next, in a very quick movement she pulled up her skirt at the back, revealing a full bottom half enclosed in pink panties, and then pulled those panties down, revealing her hairy sex to the male passers-by. Finally she split her legs a little wider and shook her ass from side to side. She had assumed this erotic posture so quickly that Luke was quite taken aback, and embarrassed by the sudden, massive stirring in his loins. He couldn't help stopping to look at the erotically proffered butt, and the others paused also. The woman started to get up, but seeing that the men were still there and looking at her, she promptly dropped into position again and continued to shake her buttocks around vigorously.
Speechless, Luke moved on, only to find the same thing happen again a moment later, this time with two women, who broke off their conversation and presented their naked bottoms simultaneously. Neither of these two, he noticed, had been wearing pants.
As they walked the length of the hall, at least twenty women prostrated themselves in a similar manner, exposing either their tits or their butt to the men's gaze without, it seemed, batting an eyelid. In one case a group of four laughing young women performed the act together, presenting two pussies and two pairs of tits.
As they approached the exit, Luke stopped again and looked back. It obviously wasn't just the President who was getting this attention. It was happening whenever a woman crossed a man's path. Few of the men seemed to pay much attention to what was being displayed to them, but merely threw the juddering female flesh a quick glance before continuing on their way. The women seemed to get in and out of position and adjust their clothing so quickly that their actions hardly seemed to interrupt their own progress.
Luke was very aroused by what he was seeing, but still very confused. He half turned to Jed, who seemed to sense his question.
"You see," said the Aide, "our women are in the habit of showing respect. They present either their breasts or their buttocks alternately, which ensures that us men get a balanced combination of the options."
"But," said Luke, wiping his brow of some sweat which had accumulated there. "But surely this can't happen all the time? How can they live like that? How can they get anything done?"
"It does happen all the time," Jed replied. "In public, that is. In private there are other procedures, as you'll find out. And this is only for women who aren't being used in some more specific way, of course," he added mysteriously.
Not really registering this last bit, Luke struggled for understanding. "So if a woman passes a man in the street, or in a shop, she has to expose herself every time?"
"Well, you wouldn't find a man in a shop! But essentially, yes, she shows her respect in this way throughout her life to any stranger who happens to pass her, or look in her direction."
"But our culture is much more complex that this, as you'll see," said the President, enjoying his visitor's discomfort and confusion just as much as he'd anticipated. "For example, if a man talks to a woman if she actually remains in his presence something different happens. Look, I'll show you."
A particularly buxom woman was passing, and just as she was about to put her bag down and fall to her knees, the President addressed her.
"Cunt, come here."
Luke was shocked by the choice of language, but the woman didn't seem to be. She smiled and stepped forward, then deftly opened her top to expose her breasts and lifted her skirt to reveal a naked bottom and pussy beneath. In an instant she dropped right to the floor and kissed the President's feet. With her head still down she murmured the incantation, and for the first time Luke heard the words.
"I am yours, Master. Do with me as you will."
"Rise," said the President, and the woman stood up.
"Mr. President, it's an honor!" she chirped, still smiling.
"Yes," came the reply. "Cunt, this is an outworld visitor." The President indicated Luke and the woman immediately dropped to the floor again and kissed Luke's feet, saying the incantation once more.
"Rise," said the President again, "and explain to this gentleman what you've just done."
The woman stood up and for a moment her good natured expression became confused.
"Well, Sir, I have been introduced to you. It is customary to show respect in this way when one is presented to a man."
"And why have you exposed yourself?" the President asked.
The woman's eyes opened wide as if she couldn't believe that an answer was needed to such an obvious question.
"Why, because a woman must always expose her erotic regions when in the present of a man!"
Luke couldn't stop staring at those erotic regions. The way she had become transformed from a conventional looking woman, to this half naked image of sexuality, the way her skirt was hoisted and her tits presented so casually in public, and all while she smiled and talked without concern, was having a powerful effect on his masculinity. It was with great effort that he tried to appear unflustered.
The President turned to Luke.
"You have a lot to learn about our way of life," he said sighing. "There are a lot of other things I could demonstrate with this woman, but perhaps you'd be more comfortable in private initially." He turned to the woman again. "You are privileged to have spoken with us."
"Yes, Sir, of course!"
"You will spend tomorrow in a penance chamber."
"Yes, Sir!" Her tone indicated pleasant surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, Sir."
"Shake-walk with us to the door."
The woman began to move in the most amusing, and what seemed to Luke, humiliating, manner. She minced along, shaking her bottom from side to side and her tits round and round like some exotic dancer. Again, it was very shocking to see this sort of thing in the middle of a busy public place, in a woman who otherwise seemed so conventional. The 'shake-walk' obviously needed a great deal of effort, skill and energy, but she kept it up as they walked out through the exit, sometimes throwing a respectful smile back at them over her shoulder.
As they approached a waiting vehicle and two of the guards stepped around to open the doors, the President reached out to play briefly with the jiggling tits. Then, totally unexpectedly, he slapped the woman heavily across the face once, twice, three times. She almost lost her balance, but she didn't stop the mad shaking and wriggling of her tits and buttocks. She made no comment about the slapping, and her expression remained completely happy and unconcerned.
"Keep shaking in this spot for two hours," the President instructed her, and her final "Yes, Sir" betrayed not the slightest hint of reluctance.
As the vehicle drove away from the terminal, Luke watched the woman, who remained rooted to the spot, shaking herself vigorously all over, oblivious to the vehicles pulling up and people walking by all around her.
Wow! thought Luke, eyebrows raised, but refrained from expressing himself to his new companions. He was certainly looking forward to learning more about this amazing planet, he had to admit!
"It's all rather complicated to explain," said Jed as they settled into the comfortable back seat. "What you've seen is probably the least extreme of the ways in which our cultures differ. The terminal handles a huge flow of internal traffic to all parts of the planet, as is really geared up for business, not pleasure. So there aren't as many distractions as usual."
Jed could see that Luke didn't understand. As far as the bemused visitor was concerned, there had been a huge amount of distraction-but he hadn't seen anything yet!
"Again, I'm trying to warn you a little," Jed continued. "The terminal is tame some elements of our way of life are, well, more extreme."
Here the President interrupted.
"I think we'd better just let Luke see things for himself. A picture a view out of that window, for example is worth a thousand words, as they say. Let Hedonia speak for itself!"
The car sped on, and the independent observer began to independently observe in earnest.
These are some of the things Luke saw on his journey between the arrival port and the President's Palace, which was to become his temporary residence.
The city streets were broad, clean and attractive, lined with a variety of modernistic buildings and an abundance of greenery trees and flowers creating an exotic feel.
The streets were busy. Men in suits carrying briefcases hurried about their business, much as they did on all the planets Luke had visited, but on occasion, here, they were accompanied by women, behaving a little differently to women elsewhere. Some walked beside their male colleagues, conducting conversations, but had their blouses open and their skirts hitched up to their waists at the back, resulting in the somewhat shocking spectacle of extreme eroticism juxtaposed with everyday life.
In other cases, Luke observed wide-eyed, the women were completely naked and more obviously servile. Several struggled along behind their male companions, laden down with packages or luggage. One such particularly caught Luke's eye because she was perched on extremely high heels and her legs appeared to be hobbled together with a short chain. Peeping over the top of the huge pile of parcels she held in her outstretched arms, she tripped rapidly along, trying to keep up with the young man in front of her, who strode down the street nonchalantly, hands in pockets.
Then again, some women were crawling on all fours, their bodies variously decorated, if that was the word, with bondage straps and belts and buckles. Rubber, leather and black shiny plastic were abundant, and chains and handcuffs seemed just as common. It seemed that what on other worlds would be seen as extremely kinky or risque, was very much the norm in Hedonia.
In one place a little train of four women joined together by chains crawled along the pavement rapidly, one behind the other. Each was so laden down by huge bundles, piled up on and strapped down to her back, that only her nodding head and naked legs and buttocks could be seen. There was no sign of anyone leading or directing these women. They seemed to know where they were going themselves, and shuffled along in the right direction hurriedly, as if this was something they did every day which it was and hardly remarkable at all. A little further along was an even more amazing sight. Perched high up on an animal that looked just like the camels back home, a robed, male figure made his way along a dusty track which ran along the edge of a sort of park. Attached to the camel's saddle was a long leash by means of which was being led a long string of walking haystacks! Huge bundles of what looked like hay or straw, two or three times the width of the camel and at least as high, were moving along one behind the other, in the most amazing caravan Luke had ever seen. Were there more camels under these bales? There was no sign of any. Were they perhaps donkeys, or even conceivably some sort of mechanized trolleys? No. If you looked carefully, you could just see the pack animals' feet protruding from under their massive loads human feet in high heels! One of each of these feet was attached by a long chain to one of those below the bale behind, thus forming a string of ten or so hay bales, struggling blindly along the dusty park path, and occasionally, Luke happened to notice, treading in some camel shit!
He was later to find out that the hay was being transported to a large stable at one end of the park where several camels and horses were kept for recreational reasons. The bales were apparently so well attached to the hot, uncomfortable women in the middle of them, that no one bothered to get the women out before the hay was given to the camels and horses as feed. Each bale was simply expected to waddle into a convenient part of the stable, and either stand or lie on the ground while the animals ate the feed from around her, an operation which could take on average several days.
The women were fed and watered through pipes and merely dropped their wastes onto the ground with those of the animals. It was therefore the case that many of them had not actually been seen by anyone for years. They had almost literally become straw personified shuffling round the park from place to place, and tossed in amongst the animals whenever they were needed. Sometimes, if for example there had been a change of shift amongst the stable hands, they could get forgotten, especially when they were lying down against a wall somewhere and perhaps got covered with some extra straw bedding. Apparently one such human hay bale had got so covered with horseshit after lying on the floor of a stable for a couple of weeks, unheeded, that they couldn't really clean her and her hay up properly and decided to leave her there permanently.
The above mentioned camels and horses were often hired out by male riders, not just for their own enjoyment, but to exercise women. This was evident from the number of horses which could be seen trotting or cantering round the park rides with variously attired and embondaged women running along at full stretch behind them. The one that caught Luke's eye was a shortish woman with massive tits which were bound round with rope, and by which she was being virtually dragged behind a cantering stallion ridden by a whooping teenager. Her arms were tied tightly behind her back and her head seemed to be pulled right back by straps from her forehead to her waist. But the strangest funniest thing was that her legs were separated really widely by a rigid leg spreader, making her extremely rapid gait the most amazingly difficult and amusing mode of locomotion Luke had ever seen a human being perform.
There was so much that was different and initially confusing, that Luke couldn't take everything in. He tried not to appear too surprised by what he was seeing, and hoped he wasn't blushing. More naked women were in evidence in shop window displays, in a variety of shocking advertisements, and apparently adorning public monuments for example, a fountain appeared to include three posing, naked women as its centerpiece, and a flower bed sprouted naked ladies around which climbing foliage appeared to have been draped, or-could it be possible? was growing.
The road itself was divided in each direction into three lanes. The outer two held fast moving traffic such as the limousine in which they were traveling, but the inner one was reserved for a different type of transport. To Luke's astonishment, they passed a number of carts and carriages being pulled by women! Some were small such as that tiny personal cart with one woman in tight bondage trotting along in front of a large gentleman reading a newspaper. Others here they zoomed past one were on a larger scale. A team of some twenty near naked women strained to move a huge piece of mechanical equipment. This sort of thing was all the more confusing for being obviously unnecessary. In a world of starships and super technology, woman-power could only exist from some other motive such as entertainment.
Then it had only been a few minutes, although the culture shock had been so great that it felt like much longer to Luke it seemed they were at their destination. The Palace was undoubtedly urban the atmosphere was still that of a busy city centre and undoubtedly modern in design; and yet it was sufficiently splendid, ornate and surrounded by spectacular gardens to give the impression of a historic country mansion. Huge decorative gates swung open to let them pass, and blossom trees lined the road to the magnificent columned frontage of the building.
Out of the car, up some steps, through a massive doorway, and Luke was face to face with another shocking sight.
A long, solid, heavy reception desk was positioned to one side of the ultra modern entrance hall, and three unbelievably buxom, extremely
IS naked, superbly attractive women smiled a welcome at them and chorused a greeting.
"Welcome home, Mr. President. We are yours, Masters!"
This would've been pretty stimulating in itself, had the women merely been sitting behind the desk in a conventional manner. But no! They were sticking out from the middle of it protruding from the waist up through three holes in the centre of the broad marbled surface. It was clear from the first glance that there was no way the massive proportions of their chests could get through the small hole that held them at the waist, and the same applied to their ample hips, which could be seen below the surface of the desk. No, the solid structure must somehow have been made around them. They were permanently trapped at the waist, standing still and naked on high heels, and yet busying themselves with paperwork and telephones as if they were normal receptionists, and not permanent fixtures in a piece of furniture.
Luke was ushered into another huge reception room, and here again distracted by the subtle and not so subtle presence of naked female flesh, blending in with the general decor.
Prominent in the room was a substantial, classical stone fireplace. The two motionless figures supporting the shelf at each side seemed at first to be sculptured pillars, but gentle breathing gave them away as living, naked women.
A similar living sculpture served as a lamp stand, and on one wall, between the stuffed heads of a moose-like animal and a ferocious big cat, was presented the head and upper torso of a stupendously endowed human female. Unlike her bestial fellows, she was very much alive, which was obvious from the fact that she was violently shaking her tits all the time, rather like the woman they had left at the terminus had done. Later, Luke was to discover that the moose-woman's naked rear end also exceptionally shapely, and also constantly shaking and juddering by her own efforts was on display through the wall in the next room!
The President clapped his hands and three women dressed in skimpy, provocative maids uniforms rushed into the room and threw themselves at the men's feet.
"We are yours, Masters. Do with us as you will!"
Suddenly, Luke saw the funny side of it all, and couldn't stop himself from uttering a chuckle and a sigh.
He turned to Jed and the President. "I think I get the general idea now!" he said, and they all exchanged smiles of understanding.
After being served some more refreshments by the maids, and a rather more relaxed chat about the current galactic situation in general, the President took his leave, asking Jed to show Luke to his room, and suggesting they talk again after Luke had been shown around a bit more. Luke, rather exhausted from ship-lag and a few troubled nights before his arrival, wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and have time to readjust to what he had seen so far in privacy. So he was quite happy with the suggestion that they call it a day, and relieved again when Jed, just before opening the door to the comfortable apartment that would serve as Luke's refuge for the next month, informed him that they had decided to keep the rooms free from what he casually referred to as 'female fittings'.
"We thought you might feel uncomfortable about them at first, but of course if you'd like some installed, you'd be more than welcome we could discuss your preferences."
"Maybe at some point," Luke conceded, "but it's fine as it is just now."
The rooms were, like the whole building, that pleasing mixture of modern and ornate, and without doubt extremely comfortable and welcoming. His luggage stood in one corner, presumably transported separately from the ship.
It had, in fact, all been carried in one go up five flights of stairs by a severely shackled young lady, whose sole function was to perform such duties, but Luke never knew or suspected this, mainly because the building had a more than adequate supply of ultra modern, super fast lifts!
"Are you sure you wouldn't like, er, some company tonight? Perhaps just a maid to help you unpack?"
Luke shook his head. "I'm fine, really. Will someone call me in the morning?"
"Of course. I'll take you out and about tomorrow, and we can talk about anything you might need to do your work. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Luke explored the apartment briefly, then stripped and threw himself heavily onto the thick, soft mattress. He was ready to fall asleep, but his eye was caught by what was obviously a television in a corner of the room. Glancing at the bedside table, he found the complicated but not uncrackable remote control, and in the manner of travelers everywhere, decided to have a quick channel-hop to satisfy his curiosity. A lot could be told about a country or a culture by what it's citizens watched on the box!
This, however, was television like he had never seen before, or even dreamed of in his wildest fantasies!
Several channels consisted of bizarre and explicit porn. Serious bondage and whipping seemed to be common unbelievably so and some of the scenes Luke saw just from a few minutes random viewing were heavier than he had ever witnessed in his life before.
But even more interesting were some of the mainstream programs. Game shows seemed to have reached or evolved independently even in this far flung corner of the universe. But these were game shows with a difference! One seemed to be an unremarkable quiz show with five male contestants answering general knowledge questions, until the camera switched to a row of five naked women lashed firmly to spiked whipping posts, and you realized that for every wrong answer one of the men made, his female team-mate received an artistically delivered lashing with a bull whip from the quizmaster's glamorous, leather-clad female assistant!
Another show seemed to feature women competing to endure increasingly severe punishments and mind boggling humiliation. Entitled
'Endurance' actually similar to a much milder variety of the same idea Luke had seen back home the program switched between live studio competitions of women performing seemingly impossible feats of effort (like pulling round carts full of stones by chains fixed to rings in their nipples, or dragging themselves across beds of sharp gravel while tied up hand and foot and laden down with huge fucksacks full of sand), while cheered or jeered by an excited male audience, and reports on longer term activities women had undertaken in an attempt to get on the program. For example, two women had been competing with each other by spending a year chained up in a public lavatory and keeping score of the number of bottoms they had licked clean. Luke found this so shocking that he changed channels before hearing the scores and then regretted it!
A soap opera seemed to have a story line revolving round a private school teaching willing women how to be ever more obedient and submissive, and even a serious documentary focused on Hedonian style sex, explaining how a new battery operated implant had been developed for breasts and buttocks which would cause them to wobble in the fashion of a 'shake-walk', but all by themselves. Film was shown of women with the devices in place going about their daily business, and even asleep their tits and bums bouncing and shaking away madly, regardless!
Eventually, ultra tired and overloaded with so much astonishing input, Luke fell asleep. He dreamt about statues with wobbling tits coming to life and kissing his feet!
* * *
SETTLING IN
Late morning of the following day found Luke and Jed sipping drinks in easy chairs in a comfortable lounge area, after having spent a boring but necessary hour or so putting the papers relating to the visit in order.
Some further casual chat and the unspoken mutual admiration of the charms of the woman who had served them, so novelly, as an inkwell, had cemented, if not a real friendship, at least a comfortable working relationship between the two men.
Luke was just commenting that he was beginning to feel in control of the overall situation, on a personal level, when a rather unexpected occurrence threw him once more into a somewhat less settled state of mind.
From somewhere around a corner, a beautiful slim blonde girl flitted up to them and dropped to her knees with a smile. A large pendant around her neck bore the words 'At Your Service', but was insufficient to prepare Luke for the crudeness of her utterance. "I am yours, Masters," she said rapidly and bouncily. "Please spunk in my mouth!"
The speed at which her mouth then formed an O shape, with tongue stuck out as far as it would go, was almost comical. "Not now," said Jed, rather automatically, adding as an afterthought to Luke. "Unless you'd like to?"
Luke shook his head and watched, amazed, as the girl got to her feet and raced of f along a corridor, at the end of which, he could just see, she dropped to her feet again in front of some other Palace employee, who also dismissed her.
"I'm sorry," said Luke, shaking his head, "but I'm just not used to the idea of this sort of thing happening. Naked women throwing themselves at your feet, and asking you to offering themselves for well, it's still all so different and shocking."
Jed gave a little laugh. "You poor man! I'm sure you soon will get used to it. The President-likes the idea of women offering one specialist service there's a whole team of them who run around the buildings and the grounds offering themselves to every man they see. It gets rather tiresome actually, though it's nice to know these things are available. We had a girl like that dash into a meal we were having the other day, only this time she was begging each of us in turn to grace her tits with our seed. Quite a few obliged her, and I have to admit it was rather entertaining. They always look so flustered, these girls. They have to keep running everywhere, you see. They're not allowed to walk."
At this very moment another 'At Your Service' girl came tearing across the room and threw herself to the floor in front of them. This one, however, assumed a more provocative pose by lying down on her back and pulling her legs open and up with her hands, after placing on her belly the short whip which she had been carrying. "I am yours, Masters," she panted, and then, "Please Sirs, will you whip my cunt?"
"Bloody hell!" Luke exclaimed, unavoidably aroused by this easy, enthusiastic submission. "Men back home only dream about this sort of thing happening! I can hardly believe it!"
"I hope you don't mind if I take up this lady's offer," said Jed, reaching forward. "I can't resist. I have a particular penchant for whipping pussy."
Who was Luke to object? After all, the girl had offered herself willingly.
S
He watched as Jed expertly laid a few heavy strokes of the whip onto the proffered sex lips. The voluptuous figure flinched but didn't cry out. Of course she must be very used to taking whippings like this on her private parts, since that was her specialisation.
Jed held the whip out to Luke. "Would you like to try?" But it was too soon, and Luke declined. The girl took back the whip which Jed tossed onto her stomach, gave an impassioned thank you, and hurried off to get whipped by someone else!
"Well, prepare yourself for a good many more surprises. There's lots of things I can show you today. I suggest we have something to eat and then have a stroll around. Are you hungry?"
Luke said that he was, a little.
"Then let's go."
As they left the Palace and traversed the sunlit, though slightly chilly, streets, Luke explained his choice of lunch venue. "There are so many restaurants, all offering different types of food and service, I didn't know which one to choose as your first. Hopefully, over the next few weeks, you'll have time to try several of them. You don't mind eating out?"
"Not at all," said Luke. "I'm looking forward to it. What I've tried of your food so far seems wonderful."
Jed smiled. "Well, this is one of my favorites. Here we are; I'll lead the way."
It was a huge, ultra-modern looking building which Luke would have taken for a suite of offices rather than a restaurant. No garish signs or advertising on the outside, just a tasteful notice over the door The Comfort Parlour.
Once through the double doors, they entered a lobby, beautifully furnished and smelling slightly and pleasantly of food, wine and smoke.
Looking around him, Luke's eyes were drawn to the ceiling, and he just managed to restrain himself from gasping at what he saw there. It was high and domed, and decorated lavishly in an antique style, with gold leaf and delightful paintings of flowers, fruit, cherubs, and naked ladies. Only, Luke realized immediately, four of the naked ladies, who formed the centre-piece of the design, were alive! Heaven knows how they were attached they looked as if they were glued onto the ceiling, their sumptuous pink curves free of any sign of fixings or harness their large tits dangling downwards, and their faces fixed in an immovable smile. It was a beautiful piece of art one of many Luke would see on Hedonia which incorporated real women.
They were greeted cordially by a refined looking gentleman, who obviously knew Jed and treated him with the greatest respect.
"We're very pleased to welcome you, Sir," he said to Luke. "If anything-anything at all-is not to your complete satisfaction, just tell us, and we will change it immediately--immediately! Now, Gentlemen, your coats."
With this, he clicked his fingers and a dark curtain slid back to reveal a cloakroom Luke would never forget. Rows upon rows of coats, yes, indicated that the restaurant was busy, but instead of conventional coat hooks, the garments were draped over live naked women, standing neatly in rows within some kind of framework. The Maitre d' clicked his fingers again and a completely naked woman presumably the next in line to be used left the nearest row and shuffled towards them. Her ankles were joined by a six inch steel bar, which hobbled her so effectively that it was obviously a struggle for her to move. However, she promptly threw herself on the floor at their feet and kissed each of their shoes in turn.
"I am yours, Masters," she said, and then, as she struggled to stand up again, "Welcome to the Pleasure Parlour. I'm your coat hook for this afternoon."
The girl then helped them to remove their coats, and, carrying one over each arm, hobbled quickly back to her position in the coat rack. There were cuffs on her wrists, and one after the other she raised her arms and clicked the cuffs onto a waiting catch on the coat frame, just above eye level. Her arms were thus fixed out and up, square that is with her upper arms, over which the heavy coats were draped, horizontal, and her lower arms upright and held firmly at the wrists. She then did a little manoeuvre with her feet and a lock clicked shut in the middle of her hobble bar. In this position she would obviously stay until their meal was completed perhaps a couple of hours of standing still and doing nothing except hoping the coats weren't dislodged from her arms, and dwelling on the fact of having her body used for a purpose so menial that a piece of metal would do it just as well. Looking around him, Luke saw that, compared to some of the other coat hooks, the girl was having an easy time. Some had been draped all over with several coats and bags, so their whole bodies, or certainly their faces, were completely obscured. One in particular was laden down so heavily with heavy fur jackets and pieces of luggage, that her legs were quivering with strain, and you could see the sweat running down them, so hot and uncomfortable she was beneath her load. Hats hung on tits, umbrellas dangled from mouths, and heavy bags hung around necks. There was hardly a sound, except for some rather heavy breathing, though. None of the coat hooks appeared to be complaining about the difficult, boring use they were being put to. Luke was soon ushered away from the cloakroom area, and into an ante-room, where, before he knew it, another naked woman was throwing herself at his feet, and telling him how pleased she was to be able to serve him. Jed was being similarly flattered, and their guide now passed them over to the care of these women. "The ladies will take you through. A private booth, I assume."
"Yes please," said Jed. "I think the open plan areas may be a bit too much of a shock for my colleague, at this stage." Intrigued, Luke followed the two naked waitresses, as he assumed they were, into a smallish room. There wasn't much to be seen in it, except two easy chairs, and Luke at first assumed that this was where they would sit to make their selection, but a comment from Jed informed him that it was here that they would be eating.
The two women now did something rather unexpected they sat down on the chairs.
Luke was confused there were only two chairs and he'd assumed they were for himself and Jed, but now it seemed the women would be joining them.
He looked over at Jed and found him exhibiting an expression of amusement. "Where do we sit?" he asked the Aide. Jed couldn't resist a smile. "I thought this might throw you and I hope you'll excuse my grinning. It's just such a pleasure to show someone around our world to whom everything is new! You won't find a man on this planet who doesn't take these things for granted. But, in answer to your question," he went on, "we sit on top of the women! It's a common practice. You see, the chairs are particularly low and soft, so our human cushions sink in a little and aren't too lumpy and uncomfortable."
Tentatively, taking his lead from Jed, Luke lowered himself gently onto the lap of the woman in his chair, and then, equally carefully, leant back against her soft tits. A low groan escaped her, but she kept still and relaxed, anxious that Luke should soon feel comfortable and completely forget that she was there.
"Sitting on women is part of our cultural heritage," Jed was saying. "I hope you'll soon get used to it. If you find it too uncomfortable, you can always try them the other way round." Luke thought about this. "How do you mean."
"Well, upside down. So you're sitting on their tits and their legs are supporting your back. You only have to ask and they'll change position."
"Um, this will do for now, I think," said Luke, although the thought of where the woman's head would be in this inverted position certainly had its appeal. He'd never sat on a woman's tits before. In fact, now he thought of it, he'd never even sat on a woman's lap before certainly not while having a meal!
What happened next was equally amazing. When the starter Jed ordered for them 'House Selection' arrived, Luke at last understood why this strange restaurant had no tables, an omission so obvious he hadn't dared remark on it.
Two women walked into their private room, each carrying a huge tray supported in fact attached at her neck and waist, making her look something like an ice cream girl in a cinema. The difference was that her huge naked tits actually rested on the tray and formed the centerpiece of a sumptuous arrangement of food. Slices of meat and salad vegetables actually lay draped over the mounds of her breasts, and the mouth watering selection spilled artistically down onto two strategically placed plates, flanked by two jugs of liquid refreshments and a variety of condiments.
Each woman carefully knelt down right in front of the diner she was about to serve and gave a smile of perfect humility and adoration. Very much taken aback, Luke sat mutely and let his living table feed him sumptuous mouthfuls of the wonderful food and sips of drink. Jed kept chatting to him but Luke could hardly concentrate. All he was aware of was the way the woman seductively transferred succulent titbits (giving the word a new meaning!) from the orbs of her breasts to his mouth, and the way the woman on which he was sitting moved underneath him slightly, so he could feel her nipples rubbing against his back, and feel the shape of her thighs against his rear. After a while Jed gave up the conversation, leaving the visitor to enjoy this new found heaven.
Eventually, with a wistful wave and a blown kiss, the starter women rose and left, soon to be replaced by two more beauties, each wheeling in a covered trolley. Each of these women carried canisters of what had to be water and wine on their backs, from each of which a tube extended over their shoulders, around each tit two or three times, and ended just above the nipple. No further explanation was necessary whenever Luke wanted a drink he had merely to indicate his preference and the appropriate tit would be proffered for him to sup on. But what of the trolleys? As the metal lids were whipped theatrically away, a main course was disclosed such as Luke had never known before. This time a woman's back formed a plate on which were arranged choice cuts of steak in bite size pieces, mounds of potato and a garnish of salad. The woman herself rested on a huge platter surrounded by additional vegetables and decorated in every nook and cranny with more colorful foodstuffs. Her mouth held a big red apple, and the crack of her buttocks a sauce boat surrounded by 'crudities' (little crudely shaped pieces of raw vegetable!).
It reminded Luke of the presentation of huge joints and fowl at medieval banquets. In fact, before his stay was over, he would see many more women laid out on banquet tables as part of the display in just such a manner. The Hedonians were nothing if not artistic when it came to women and food!
Although once again, the water and wine maiden helped him to eat by feeding him choice mouthfuls with her fingers, he couldn't resist exploring the amazing food display himself, and took great pleasure in selecting, for example, a radish from its hiding place just beneath a fat tit, and dipping it in the pool of mayonnaise held in one of the woman's cupped hands.
He also experimented with pouring gravy over the woman's back and watching it run slowly down over her curves.
When it was time for dessert, a blonde beauty again knelt at Luke's feet, her upper torso cupped in a huge bowl of jelly in which her tits had been set, and balancing in her mouth a two layered cake tray festooned with cream covered delicacies. She served him with her own hands until he could eat no more, and then retreated to wait motionless until she was called on to offer her sweet delights again.
Luke now had a raging erection, which he had no hope of hiding from Jed.
"We're really very relaxed about that sort of thing," Jed ventured reassuringly. "It's likely to happen a lot, so perhaps we should get you accustomed to having it seen to."
"Urn well-I don't know," Luke stammered. "What exactly do you mean?"
"A discrete blow job while we have coffee? Or if you prefer I'll leave you alone. I'm sure your cushion could deal with it shall we ask her to invert?"
Still Luke hesitated. "Well, if you were going to and if you're sure it won't cause offence, perhaps I'll try it with the coffee, as you suggested."
"Arrange it," said Jed to his own human sweet trolley, who took her wobbling, jelly encased tits away, and was replaced just a moment later by two even more beautiful women covered in suggestive tattoos, who scurried into the room on all fours with their mouths wide open and made bee-lines for the two diners' straining cocks, which they wordlessly released from their clothing and set to work on with every sign of relish.
Luke sat back against the soft cushion tits and thought of everything he had just experienced. What a meal! His cushion was offering him a drink of coffee from a cup which had materialized from somewhere, but he pushed it away. One thing at a time. His orgasm neared and for a moment he was embarrassed by his blatant arousal. At the last minute he tossed a napkin over the proceedings, and so only felt and not saw his first ejaculate on Hedonia swamp the willing mouth of what he already couldn't help thinking of as a top-notch sex machine.
Luke was settling in!
After lunch, Luke and Jed were strolling through one of the city plazas when they came across a stall offering a number of strange looking black boxes 'For Hire'. Luke, who had resolved for professional reasons always to ask when he saw something he didn't understand, even though his ignorance could be embarrassing at times, stopped by the stall and asked Jed what the items were.
"Pleasure boxes," Jed replied, and watched realization dawn slowly on Luke's face.
"You're going to tell me they've got women in, aren't you?" said Luke. "But surely they're too small?"
"Well, I guess the women are folded up pretty tightly, and pushed in so they fit."
At this point the stallholder, who had noted their interest, approached them.
"Can I help you, Gentlemen? Portable pleasure at very reasonable rates. Here." He lifted up one of the boxes by its carrying handle and held it in front of Luke.
"Put your finger in the hole and see how strongly the lady sucks." The hole at the front of the box was its most obvious feature, and it wasn't difficult to work out what was supposed to go in it. Obediently, Luke inserted his index finger into the small hole in the proffered box, and sure enough, a wet tongue and a warm mouth immediately descended on it, licking and sucking with apparently tireless gusto.
"She won't stop," the stallholder grinned. "If you held your, er, finger in there all day! After all, it's all she's got to do, suck whatever's thrust into that hole, and keep quiet in between times. Do you want to take her with you?"
Luke withdrew his finger. Just projecting what it would be like to stick his cock into that anonymous pleasure hole was having a rather obvious effect on him.
"Urn," he began, flustered, but the stallholder thought he'd nearly got them, and hurried on to entice them some more. "Perhaps you'd prefer the version with a hole at the back as well. Would you like to see?"
Without waiting for an answer, he replaced the pleasure box he'd been holding on top of a pile of similar ones, and picked up another from a different part of the stall.
"Look," he said, turning the box round, and hoisting it up so that a hole with a gaping pussy close behind it was suddenly just inches from Luke's nose.
Jed came to Luke's rescue. "I don't think we have a particular call for these at the moment, but we'll remember where to come."
"Okay, okay," said the stallholder, realizing that for some strange reason the first gentleman was a little uncomfortable with this idea of mouths and pussies in black boxes. "But I have something different through here. Please, please step this way for one moment."
Since it was in fact Luke's job to be investigating and exploring all facets of this planet's life and culture, he glanced at Jed and nodded to the stallholder.
"Alright, but we're probably not hiring today."
At the back of the stall were some similar boxes which seemed to be joined together in pairs, side by side. Also, the hole in each of them was quite a bit larger, although it still wasn't possible to see anything in the box's dark interior.
"Can you guess what these are for," Jed asked Luke. "You might have seen something similar in that public seating area we passed a little while ago ... no?"
Luke shook his head, and the stallholder, ever enthusiastic, promptly demonstrated. Sitting down on a table top next to one pair of boxes resting at ground level, he tossed his sandals off and inserted each of his feet into one of the holes, right up to the ankles.
"Mm, lovely," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. "Lovely foot massage. Best way to keep them clean, you know."
Luke almost reeled at this further demonstration of female servitude. The thought of women cooped up in little boxes perhaps set up in some public place having to endlessly lick away at whatever dirty male feet were shoved into their faces, and keep licking all round and between the toes while the men sat and relaxed, out of sight above ... It was both horrible and erotic; he couldn't decide which was the stronger response.
"What's the chance of having a word with one of the girls inside?" he asked, remembering his job.
"No problem," said the stallholder, intercepting a look from Jed. "Hold on a minute I'll get the keys and see if I can open this one up."
A few minutes later, he had succeeded, and the top of one of the foot massage boxes came open with a squeak.
The girl within was so tightly packed in that she reminded Luke, bizarrely, of a raw turkey he had once tried to squeeze into a roasting pot which was slightly too small.
She raised her head, squinting at the light, and tried to straighten up a little, but it was clear that her body was stiff and reluctant to move from the position it had become used to being in.
"I um-I am yours, Masters. Do whatever you like with me," she managed haltingly, and experimented with moving an arm, so she could brush her long hair back from her eyes.
"Kneel up properly," the stallholder instructed her. "This gentleman wants to ask you some questions."
"Yes, Master," the pleasure box girl replied and straightened her back, revealing boobs much bigger than you could have imagined could possibly have been squashed beneath her folded body.
Also revealed was the fact that her ankles were fixed together by severe, heavy leg irons presumably an aesthetic touch, as she was hardly going to go anywhere while locked into this tiny box.
Luke was not so much taken aback by the boobs or shackles, however, as by something else which had become apparent when the box had been opened. The whole inside of it at least the inside of the lid and what could be seen of the walls was covered with two inch, tightly packed spikes made of what looked like stiff black rubber. Luke's ringer was drawn to feel the tip of one. It wasn't exactly sharp, but it was certainly bound to be extremely uncomfortable when pressed against soft, naked flesh. He swallowed hard, and addressed the kneeling girl.
"Do these spikes press into you when the lid is closed?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir," she replied, without emotion.
"Does the bottom of the box have them too?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And do they hurt."
"Well, yes, Sir." Luke paused.
"So, are all pleasure boxes lined with spikes inside like this?"
The girl glanced at the stallholder, obviously concerned that she might not know the right answer. "I think so, Sir. Or something like them."
The stallholder nodded his agreement. "Although some have brushes or bristles instead."
"Tell me," Luke addressed the girl again. "How do you feel about being a pleasure box girl? Do you like it?"
"It's an honor to serve, Sir. A Hedonian woman is always pleased and honoured to be used as an object. It is a very fitting occupation."
Carefully though he looked at her, Luke could see nothing in her face or eyes that seemed anything other than genuine.
"Okay, one more question. How long have you been in this box?"
The girl hesitated. "Oh, dear, Sir, I don't know exactly." She glanced again at the stallholder. "It feels like, say, eight or nine months?"
"Months!" Luke exclaimed. "Eight or nine months in a box, licking men's feet clean?"
At this point their host turned to Jed, getting concerned. "Is there a problem, here? I mean, they're kept fed and clean-I don't see what I've done wrong."
"Don't worry," Jed reassured him. "It's just that my friend is from a planet where this sort of thing doesn't happen, and he's a bit shocked. But I'm sure this young lady has convinced him now that she's quite happy with what she's doing. Aren't you, dear."
"Yes, Sir," the girl said, and it was true Luke was convinced.
As they left the stall having watched the box get closed up again Luke found himself bothered, still, by the timescale revelation. Whether he was bothered on the girl's behalf, though, or by his own reaction to that timescale massive arousal was something he didn't dare consider too deeply!
That evening, after a tour of the city and innumerable further examples of the very different roles of the sexes on Hedonia, Luke found himself back in the Palace, and again in the company of its most senior occupant.
The President leaned forward in his seat. a
"Well, you've seen a little of our way of life now. What's your opinion of it so far?"
Luke thought carefully before answering, remembering that he was here in a professional and highly important capacity.
"Well," he said. "It's much more extreme and varied than I'd expected. The outside world would hardly believe it, and reactions would be mixed, I'll tell you! It seems to me though, that the crucial issue is whether the women are doing these things voluntarily."
"Have you not been convinced, yet, that they are?" the President asked.
"Well," Luke replied. "It seems that way, certainly. But it is rather difficult to believe. What if and you understand I'm not making any accusations, just explaining how others will see it what if they're being coerced in some way, or brainwashed? The whole scenario needs an explanation."
The President exchanged glances briefly with Jed before addressing Luke again.
"It may be difficult for you to accept this, but I give you my personal word that we do not force our women to serve us as they do. We expect them to obey us, yes, but there is never any question that they won't. It's simply been in our culture probably in our genetics, too for as far back as our records go. It is completely natural for our women to behave in the manner you have been witnessing. They have evolved to be what you might call 'user-friendly'. "
"User-friendly," Luke repeated. "A term usually applied to computers, I believe."
The President laughed. "What, you think our women are androids?"
"I suppose it's possible, but no, I don't think that," said Luke. "Since I've seen no evidence to suggest they're not happy doing what they do, I'll take your word for it that it's genuinely a cultural thing. After all, there are some parallels in other countries I've studied them and it's conceivable that such a situation could've come about." Luke was simply thinking aloud now. "I suppose by serving you they benefit by having all their needs looked after."
"Of course," Jed was nodding. "They're all well fed, and their duties aren't always strenuous. They never have to exert themselves mentally, or worry about any of the complex issues we men concern ourselves with. They're happy in their role you can stop any woman in the street and ask her. You've seen it already!"
Luke could only agree, but still, catching sight of one of the female fittings in the room a woman curled in an inverted position on the sideboard, her upturned fanny holding a vase in which a beautiful bunch of flowers was arranged he wondered just how carefree and untroubled she felt.
The President followed his gaze, and drew the right conclusion.
"When a woman is serving as a fitting, or something similar," he explained, "she's given an injection which lowers her metabolism. But this is only to help her get through the long hours of inactivity, and is always given with her consent. We'll show you sometime how it's done. Women often refuse the injection because they prefer to have a mind clear to dwell on their servitude. It's purely optional, I assure you."
Jed took over again, and it did cross Luke's mind that they were rather eager to convince him. But then a lot was at stake. They wanted to join the Council of United Planets and enjoy the financial benefits this could bring.
"You know you're free to go wherever you like," Jed was saying, "and ask anyone including the women anything you like. But to help you experience things first hand and certainly, perhaps, to give you the opportunity to assure yourself that they're not androids we're giving you a couple of ladies to act as your personal servants. If you find two isn't enough, you can have more as many as you like and you can change them whenever you like. Test them in any way you can think of. We want to prove to you that everything we've said is true." Luke had to admit to himself that this suggestion sounded pretty interesting.
"Perhaps you'd like to start tonight," Jed added. "Kitty and Pussy are waiting for you in your room."
"Thank you," said Luke, keeping a straight face. "I'll look forward to, er, talking to them."
* * *
KITTY AND PUSSY
And so it was that Luke found himself sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at Kitty and Pussy two of the most spectacular looking women, it seemed to him, that he had ever seen in his life kneeling on the floor in front of him.
He was glad that he had foreseen a potential dilemma before this assignment and clarified it before leaving.
"If this is a planet where sex is very freely available and I'm to be observing naked women for a month," he had ventured with his superior when the assignment was being discussed, "how am I to react to it personally?"
His concern had been that, if he was offered personal pleasures and partook of them, and if subsequently his report led to an unfavorable decision with regard to future relations with Hedonia, his indulgence could be used against him. Intimate film, for example, could be broadcast by Hedonia to other planets, in a bid to expose a reaction against its culture as hypocrisy.
He was pleased that his question had been taken seriously, and after much discussion and the involvement of several legal specialists, he had been informed that a decision had been taken to allow him to behave in a natural manner.
"It's unreasonable, under the circumstances," his boss had said, "to expect otherwise. In any case, no-one would believe you had abstained."
The documentation exchanged with the Hedonian authorities had therefore made clear and public that the observer's personal activities during his stay were not secret, restricted or relevant, and could therefore not be used against him or the Council of United Planets.
All this meant that, when two naked, compliant women knelt at his feet and offered their bodies and their services to him, he didn't have to resist! He was free to make the most of the situation, and enjoy all the privileges and perks of this amazing assignment.
Luke was in fact, even after what he had seen so far, experiencing a massive case of culture shock. This place was such a sexual Utopia, he was a little swept off his feet, and could tell he would have to indulge himself for a while and take the edge off the huge sexual appetite which had been induced in him before he actually started to do any work, like write reports.
He put his thoughts aside and took a deep breath of anticipation.
"Now," he addressed the two sex kittens gazing adoringly at him. "Which one of you shall I fuck first?"
"Oh, me, Sir!"
"Me, Sir, please!"
"Now, now," he laughed. "Don't squabble. You shall both have the privilege."
The girls positively purred, and rubbed up closer to him. Then they were whispering something, and giggling, and nodding.
"Permission to suggest something, Sir," said Pussy.
"Go on."
"Well, if we were to get our pussies as close together as possible, perhaps you could, sort of, alternate. Almost as if you were fucking us together, Sir!"
"Oh, please, Sir," Kitty added. "It would be such fun!"
"Okay," said Luke, intrigued. "What do you suggest?"
Giggling some more, Kitty crawled quickly onto the bed and lay down flat on her back, stretching out her legs. Pussy then lay down, also face up, exactly on top of her colleague!
Thigh on thigh, they presented to him a delightful double-decker of womanhood, their two crotches just inches apart. Both girls played with Pussy's tits, keeping them moving and bouncing beautifully four little hands working away to squeeze and stroke and knead them most attractively.
"I like it," said Luke, and climbed on board.
It took a bit of effort and practice, moving up and down between pussies, but Luke soon mastered it, and found that he really enjoyed fucking two women together like this.
"Pussy, Kitty, Pussy, Kitty," he muttered to himself as he moved up and down between the two juicy snatches.
The girls pushed themselves together as much as they could, and twisted their hips, to minimize the distance between them. Driven crazy by the tit show continuing in front of him, and also by the thought of poor Kitty's tits, squashed below Pussy's and his own weight, he felt himself about to come. Unable to decide which cunt to finish in, he pulled out and spunked over both of them, rubbing his knob up and down over the two sticky, spunky slits with great pleasure.
Fucking Kitty and Pussy together like this was to become Luke's specialty. He tried it in different ways, for example with both of them face down in a 'double doggy', or facing each other, so his thrusting pushed their tits against each other. He became used to issuing the instruction, "Double-decker, please," which had the girls scurrying into position and pushing their slits as close together as possible.
Also, once he'd been on Hedonia a little longer, he learned to tie them or have them tie themselves together, which stopped them slipping around or falling off each other. A tight strap round their waists and a few more joining their thighs and shoulders was the minimum to keep them nicely joined.
He would even leave them like that sometimes, forcing them to sleep on top of each other all night, or to move around and perform their duties of service strapped tightly together.
Once, he tied them back to back, with leg spreaders attached to their ankles, and ... Oh, but it would be impossible to describe all the delightful ways in which Luke experimented with his bondage playmates. No doubt the reader's imagination will come up with a few of them on its own!
Kitty and Pussy were soon going virtually everywhere with Luke, and it was getting so that he couldn't imagine a time when they hadn't always been with him.
If he strolled through a park they would crawl just behind him on all fours, held close by a leash of devotion, dropping to kiss the pavement he had walked on if he paused for even a moment. When he sat in a restaurant they were hugging his legs under the table. If space was tight they would squeeze themselves under his chair, or merely stand to attention close behind him, their tits resting on his shoulders.
Wherever he turned, they were there, adoring faces beaming at him; personal servants and slaves obedient to his every whim, utterly committed to his happiness.
They slept on each side of him, or sometimes at the foot of his bed or even underneath it, which they seemed to prefer. They were often in bondage during the night, and would beg him to chain them up tightly, or encase them in stiff rubber or leather suits, but he really preferred to leave them loose, because he liked to feel their arms wrapped around him, and liked the way they would slip down under the covers in the middle of the night and suck him off while he was still half asleep.
He was frequently awakened by the delicious feel of their soft warm tongues lapping at his cock, or even by a dripping crotch being rubbed against him, hinting that it wanted to be used, not daring to go all the way until he was properly awake and signalled his permission with an approving sigh.
After he had had his first delightful orgasm of the day, they would fuss around him, wrapping a warm robe about him as he left the comfort of the bed, carrying his slippers to him in their mouths, like obedient puppies, and offering him delicious drinks and breakfast snacks which they had sneaked out of bed to prepare for him earlier.
Always touching him affectionately, always smiling, always naked and utterly beautiful to behold, they would accompany him to the bathroom, where they would hold his cock for him while he pissed, kneel at his feet while he sat on the toilet, and even wipe his bottom for him when he had finished. At first he had resisted this service, but once experienced the girls were very skilful and discrete had decided he might as well abandon himself to the extent of not even having to think about such a previously unpleasant and monotonous task. Being able to continue to read your newspaper while a beautiful servant girl wiped your ass was true luxury.
Next his pets would help him into a warm, fragrant bath, and, half climbing in with him if necessary, wash every part of him with soft sponges and even softer hands. Sometimes they would use their tits to soap his arms or his back; sometimes even their buttocks. This morning, for example, Kitty sat in the bath behind him, encouraging him to lean back onto her tits and massaging his neck with her hands, while Pussy lathered her buttocks with soap suds, then got down on all fours between his legs and pushed her behind up against his chest, doing a little dance to wash every inch between his neck and his waist with her expertly rotating, fleshy buttocks.
This was the life! It was heaven. It was ecstasy.
Luke began not to dare even think about the fact that he would soon have to leave it.
After the bath they dried him together, then dressed him, giggling when he reached out to squeeze their breasts or buttocks they had left him with nothing to do except admire and play with them as they served him and blushing prettily when he felt them between the legs. Sometimes he would fuck one of them again at this point, but he had learned to be patient. Life in Hedonia was so erotic that there was bound to be some new experience for him to enjoy each day, and he would try to save himself at least for a little later in the morning.
On this particular morning he was in fact in for yet another surprise. Strolling down to the main lounge with Pussy and Kitty both still gloriously naked hanging on his arms and rubbing themselves up against him whenever he stopped to look at one of the female fittings, he found himself in the presence of the President, all smiles and charm as usual.
"Ah, Luke, how are you?" He said, turning from the window by which he was standing. "I hear you've been enjoying yourself on your visit so far; I'm so glad."
Luke nodded an acknowledgment but was a little too stunned to speak. The President was well, I suppose you'd have to say wearing something a little unusual.
He was wearing a woman.
She was small and naked and strapped upside down to his front. Her buttocks formed a little platform just below his chin, her legs disappeared somewhere under his arms and round his back, while her arms were pulled up behind him and strapped across the back of his waist. Her head was positioned bang slap in the middle of the President's crotch, and it was clear from how closely the fuzzy blonde head was pressed against his body, that his penis was in her mouth.
The President paced across the room towards Luke. Beneath the woman, he wore elegant clothes, and it was obvious her slight weight did not inconvenience him. She was strapped very closely to him, but with soft cords, and he looked relaxed and comfortable, as if he was quite used to carrying a girl around with him in this way.
"I see you've noticed my Portable Pleasure Unit," said the President. "You must try one, they're very useful. Means you can get a nice sucking, any time you want, and the rest of the time a warm, cozy mouth for your floppy friend to rest in."
Luke couldn't resist a closer look. There was no doubt that the girl couldn't move her head away from the President's cock. It had to be kept in her mouth permanently. It was also obvious that despite the bondage, she had to cling on to him with her arms and legs to stay in the right position. like a baby monkey, only upside down, she would be carried around with him wherever he went. Nothing to do but hold on tight and suck cock. Nothing to see or smell but hairy balls.
"It's quite fun to have this pussy just under your nose whiff of woman all day! And look," the President demonstrated, "you can dip in a finger or two occasionally and stir it round to make it juicy."
Luke was very intrigued and absolutely resolved to try a Portable Pleasure Unit in the very near future.
"How do you get her to start sucking?" he asked.
"Well, just tell her, or spank or pinch her ass, like this."
"And how long can you wear one for?"
"About twelve hours. They're not given anything to drink for a day before, so there's no chance of any nasty accidents."
Luke looked and looked, as the President twisted and turned a little to display his garment from all angles.
"I'm surprised you haven't seen any yet. Everyone's wearing them; they're all the fashion this year. You can get them dyed different colors, or painted with patterns, to match what you're wearing. Some people even wear them in bed, although I find it a little uncomfortable, especially when I lie on my front."
Luke gasped at the thought of a slight little woman like this lying, unable to move, below a man the size of the President all night, with his weight squeezing her tits, her limbs stretched uncomfortably round him, and his limp willy perpetually in her mouth.
But one thing was confusing him. He hardly dare ask, but was prompted by curiosity.
"But what happens when you-I mean, when you have to use the toilet yourself?"
"Why, that's one of the advantages," said the President. "You don't have to."
Luke took this in. "You mean "
"Yes, she swallows your piss. Must be difficult upside down, I always think, but they seem to manage it."
"But they're not allowed to go themselves, so they have to, well, keep it all inside them?"
"Mm. Dear boy, it's quite normal for women to act as our toilets, here. Haven't you been using your two pets for that purpose? They really should have offered you the service." The President glanced down at Pussy and Kitty, who were groveling at Luke's feet. "You're to whip each other for two hours non stop when Luke can next spare you, do you hear? And commit to doing extra toilet duties for the rest of your lives!"
"Yes, Mr. President," they replied in unison, cowering a little.
Luke imagined them, ten years from now, when he was long gone, drinking gallons of piss every day, just because they'd forgotten to offer him a complete toilet service!
"Anyway, my friend, I have a meeting to address this morning, so I'd better be on my way. Have a nice day, and remember to let me know if you need anything."
Luke shook the President's offered hand, and watched as he took a big coat from a live coat stand and pulled it on, covering up the woman completely, and doing up the buttons. With a big bulge sticking out in front of him, he might have looked comical, if the thought of what that bulge was doing wasn't so erotic!
Luke watched him go, thinking about the President's day from the woman's perspective. The taxi, the conference, the lunch, the next meeting, the evening meal, the bedtime porn video, the night, maybe.
All that time with a face full of balls and mouthful of cock! And nothing to eat or drink but spunk and piss!
Kitty and Pussy hardly had time to get their mouths in position before he shot his load at the very wonderfully disgusting thought of it!
PUSSYLAND
The days passed, and Luke did little but explore his surroundings and enjoy himself. He had to keep reminding himself that this was genuinely work!
Jed showed him many amazing things. Here is just one of many examples of what he saw and learnt on Hedonia.
After one particularly beautiful Hedonian day had dawned, and over a breakfast of cured meat and exotic fruit slices, presented 'a la pubes', that is, served in a transparent bowl moulded to protrude from an upturned, shaven snatch the rest of its owner's body tucked away neatly in a tight rubber bondage bag Jed made a suggestion.
"I thought we might go over to the nearest branch of Pussy land."
"Sounds interesting," said Luke. "What is it?"
Jed explained that Pussylands were state run amusement parks, of which there were several in each city.
"I'd say it was equivalent to a funfair in your culture but with a sexual theme."
Luke dwelt for a few moments on the images that the idea of a sexual funfair conjured up in his mind. They fell far short of the reality, however, as he was to discover when Jed led him through the entrance of the real thing a little later that morning.
(Kitty and Pussy, incidentally, happened to have spent the previous night in a particularly intricate form of bondage involving multiple leg spreaders, dual-pronged metal dildos, and studded breast squeezers, and so, as Luke found that he couldn't be bothered to free them, they got left behind, and spent the day struggling and suffering instead of worshipping and getting fucked, which was at least a change.)
The entrance to Pussyland was remarkable in itself. An archway or rather a tunnel of widely spread female legs provided an enticing welcome. Visitors gazed upwards at the ceiling of gaping pussies, and some could be seen counting them. There were in fact twenty pussies at the apex of the vault. Twenty women aligned closely, one behind the other, legs stretched and pulled open as wide as they would go, upper bodies out of sight from below. In fact the delights of these twenty ladies from the waist up formed part of one of the attractions of the park and could be viewed from a walkway alongside the perspex tunnel in which they were encased. Suspended by their wrists and with huge weights dangling from each of their nipples, they hung in a row for twelve hours at a time, groaning and moaning behind the soundproofed perspex, too distracted by pain to appreciate the wonder of the architectural spectacle their legs and fannies were making below.
Once through the entrance, the visitor was greeted by two columns of half naked women attired in various erotic and revealing costumes-dropping to the floor and worshipping his feet in the common manner.
"Welcome to Pussyland," they chorused. "Have a nice day."
Here, a woman offered them a free visitors' guide, from a huge plastic dispenser she struggled to hold in her teeth. There, another urged on them liquid refreshment amazingly, direct from her stupendous, milk engorged tits!
"Haven't you come across milk maids yet?" Jed asked, when he saw Luke goggling at the idea. "You quite often see them wandering round in public places quite useful just to be able to grab a tit and have a drink, if you're parched. I sometimes take one with me on long trips-and they're excellent for picnics. A friend of mine has one installed in his office, next to the coffee machine. Offers her round at business lunches, that sort of thing."
"I've got to try it," said Luke, and lifted one of the heavy mounds to his lips. The milk was warm and sweet, and the nipple huge and delicious. "Thank you," he said to the milk maid, and watched entranced as she moved on to another batch of visitors and began offering her jugs of milk round for more men to gulp from. They moved on.
Under a sign which read "Tour Pussyland in comfort", stood a row of naked women chained together in pairs, their linked arms supporting a cushioned seat in which the visitor was obviously meant to be transported. Luke watched as one visitor approached the foremost pair. The girls smiled and said something submissive and welcoming, then dropped to their knees to allow the man to sit down easily in this mobile, human chair. Their large breasts, facing towards him as they did, formed perfect armrests, and he settled down smiling, his back and ass comfortably supported, and his arms resting easily on four great hummocks of flesh.
Then the women stood, hardly showing any sign of strain, although the man was heavy and they very slight by comparison, and trotted off in perfect unison to show the visitor the highlights of the park.
Luke started to leaf through the guidebook but was distracted by the wealth of erotic images both in its pages and all around him. Once again Jed came to his rescue.
"Perhaps if I show you a few things, and then leave you to wander round on your own and explore?"
Luke nodded gratefully and followed Jed who headed for a large domed building bearing the legend 'Pussymania'. Before they reached it, however, Luke was distracted by a crowd which had gathered around some sort of side-show.
"What's happening over there?" Luke asked.
"Looks like an Auto-Punishment Show they're always popular."
"Can we see?"
"Of course."
They managed to push through to the front of the crowd, and this is what was revealed.
A complicated mechanized apparatus was set up around a small area perhaps six foot square the floor of which was made up of hundreds of little spikes; something like a bed of nails, only the 'nails' were a little thicker and a little blunter. Lying on this floor was a completely naked pale-skinned woman of the most voluptuous proportions imaginable. Her arms were strapped tightly together behind her back, at the wrists and at the elbows, and one ankle was shackled to a long chain attached to a ring just outside the six foot area. Otherwise, she was unrestrained.
As Luke watched, intrigued as to what was going on, she raised her head from the torturous floor and shook it, blinking rapidly as if struggling to regain her senses. He saw that her mouth was gagged by a huge black ball held in place by a strap which disappeared into her spectacular head of frizzy blonde hair.
Slowly, she struggled to her knees, a difficult feat with her arms restricted as they were, and eventually managed to stand up, although she seemed very tottering and unsteady. Only now did Luke register what the attachments to the apparatus were. Arranged in several places around the central area, and at different heights and angles, were what appeared to be boxing gloves on spring loaded metallic arms. Surely it couldn't mean that....
But as Luke watched, what he suspected might happen happened so suddenly that it made him jump. One of the boxing gloves sprang forward automatically and caught the woman on her shoulder. With a grunt audible despite the gag, she staggered and half fell to the floor. A moment later, a second glove punched up from a lower angle, this time chancing to hit one of her boobs. She fell back onto the spiky floor, and the crowd voiced its approval of her predicament.
Still not quite taking the spectacle in, Luke watched as the bound woman again staggered to her feet, and deliberately positioned herself so that her face was just inches away from one of the boxing gloves! The crowd grew tense in anticipation, but this time something different happened. From somewhere a rod swung round at ankle level, neatly tripping the woman over. She fell more heavily this time face and tits down onto the mat and the men in the crowd roared with laughter.
Almost immediately, the human punch bag was struggling to her knees again, only to be forced down onto the spikes once more, this time by a sequence of lashes from a mechanized whip.
Watching the set up for a while, it was clear that the apparatus was operating automatically, dealing out a variety of randomly timed blows, none of which the woman had any chance of escaping. It was the ever-changing pattern of punishment, and the exact way in which the woman was pummeled and thrown about the area that kept the crowd captivated and amused. There was certainly a kind of humor in watching the way she was unexpectedly toppled over, time and time again like a clown and the way her big tits in particular got squashed and bounced around in the process.
Luke turned to Jed, who was standing watching with his arms crossed. "This is amazing! What makes her keep getting up."
"Simple," Jed replied. "She's been told to."
"Programmed to, you mean?"
"Well, no. Just told to keep presenting herself for punishment, because it pleases us." Luke said nothing.
"You forget," Jed continued, "that our women want to suffer. She probably requested it as a special duty. There are waiting lists for this sort of thing, you know!"
Luke watched the side-show for a little longer. He didn't necessarily disbelieve Jed's explanation. After all, he'd witnessed the women of Hedonia's apparent enthusiasm to serve and suffer over and over again. And certainly this woman didn't seem unduly distressed at getting mechanically beaten up in this way rather, there was a calmness and resignation about her.
He couldn't help noticing, though, that when she was lying on the spikes, there sometimes seemed to be a particular moment when she suddenly jerked into action, after appearing half unconscious.
It couldn't be that the floor was giving her an electric shock if she lay on it too long could it?
Luke kept this thought to himself and gave Jed a deliberately untroubled smile.
"Shall we go on?"
There was one more distraction before they reached their chosen destination, however.
A little electric cart whizzed up to them on which a woman was very obviously positioned upside down her back strapped down to a sloping surface, but her legs very much up in the air and open in a wide V. They were held in position by straps pulling sideways at her thighs, and chains running from her ankles to her waist, to ensure they were kept nice and straight.
"Ice-cream, ice-cream," she announced to Luke's surprise. He saw that her upturned face was smiling at them. "Complementary ice cream, Gentlemen?'
Here a young lad hurried up to the trolley and slightly rudely butted in with his own request.
"I'll have one. What flavors have you got?"
"Peach, coconut or melon, Sir."
"Can I have some of each?"
"Of course, Sir."
Now the woman, whose arms were free, reached for an ice-cream scoop and opening some compartments at one end of the trolley, proceeded to produce for her young customer a triple ice-cream cone. It was amazing to see how deftly she managed it, considering that she had to work upside down and backwards, as it were.
It was also amazing to see how her huge breasts, resting like massive jellies on her chest, and tipping slightly towards her face because of her angled position, shook and wobbled as her arms worked away, and seemed to get in her way a permanent obstacle she had to work around.
The ice-cream was ready, and its vendor now demonstrated the reason for her inverted position and elaborate bondage. Reaching over the obtrusive breasts, she inserted the ice-cream into a cone shaped receptacle protruding from her fanny. As she did so, Luke noticed that this ice-cream holder was one of two an identical one was fixed inside the smaller of her two holes, so she could in fact serve two ice-cream cones at the same time.
The lad took his cone from her pussy and walked off without a word, and the girl asked them again if she could serve them. When they declined, she chirped a "Have a nice day," and activating some controls on the side of the trolley, whizzed away, legs waving, tits juddering and eyes carefully scanning her upside down world for more customers to please.
And so, eventually, they reached the entrance to Pussymania, which turned out to be an experience Luke would never forget, and vowed immediately to visit again.
Pussymania was an elaborate ride set up within a huge purpose-built building. Clambering into an open carriage on rails and grabbing hold of the safety bar which was lowered over their legs, Luke and Jed were whisked away through some automatic doors into another world.
It was a funfair ride, undoubtedly, but contained every variety of the same that Luke had ever come across. At first it was a 'dark ride', the carriage passing sedately through a series of tableaux, all featuring live, largely naked women. First a sultan's harem with belly-dancers and veiled slavegirls; next a classroom of rather grown up 'schoolgirls' in very short skirts, watching with trembling lips as one of their number received a caning over the prim schoolmistress's desk. Then a half naked female rock band pranced around on a laser-lit stage, huge tits bouncing wildly, hips grinding at guitars, and hair tossing to the musical frenzy. Now the tracks entered the quiet hall of an art gallery, where every exhibit was explicit and shocking, and many comprised of or included naked women, presented in a fantastic range of expressive poses and designs. Luke's eyes popped at the sprawling live sculpture of six beauties entwined in an erotic 'still life', but found themselves also appreciating the artistic effect of three women set into a large, modern art canvas, their skin covered with thick paint in glorious colors.
Next, the well-spaced carriages wound their way through a convoluted display of female flesh within fondling distance. Right beneath open legs, tits hanging so close they flapped against your face. Hands caressed your hair and slipped down your shirt as you passed. Groans and moans accompanied the attention. In proper user-friendly fashion the exhibits even here within this exotic world within a world within a world made it clear with every look and gesture that they worshipped and wanted you.
An element of 'ghost train' was added as the carriage was accelerated into vistas of tits that only parted at the last minute, or was jerked around to suddenly present you with a female form in mercilessly cruel bondage, who screamed chillingly and unexpectedly as the passing of the carriage triggered the use of an automated birch on her much damaged behind. A whole 'torture chamber' followed a collection of naked bodies on racks and wheels and all manner of devices so striking and erotic that Luke at one point had to close his eyes, the stimulation was just too much.
Now the carriages rose up high, enabling the occupants to look down on a spectacular array of naked dancers, forming beautiful, symmetrical, every changing patterns which could only be appreciated from above. The dance spectacular theme was maintained as the carriages passed along a long row of can-can dancers, affording a perfect view of stretching, moving pussies, such as no man back on Luke's planet would ever have the privilege to witness.
For the grand finale of the ride, two women actually climbed onto the carriage and draped themselves over the occupants' legs, giving them
E something to squeeze and fondle as they watched banks of cleverly placed mirrors turn dozens of provocatively dressed or naked women making passionate love to each other into thousands.
When the hour long ride was over, the men were helped from their carriage and shown into a special recovery lounge, such was the acknowledged effect of all this escapism and stimulation. Luke and Jed sipped drinks, discussing what they had seen, and were offered a 'relief menu' which Luke soon realized from items such as 'express massage', 'under-table service' and 'flagellation special' had nothing to do with food!
"Would you like to, er, choose anything?" Jed asked, aware that Luke still had some sensitivities when it came to personal relief in public places.
But Luke was too worked up to have any inhibitions. "Yes," he said. "What do you recommend?"
Jed perused the menu. "I'll tell you what. They have a special little bar area here which is quite interesting and discrete. I think you'll enjoy it."
Luke shrugged an okay. Whatever it was, he was sure that he wouldn't be disappointed.
Jed had a quick word with one of the staff members, then led the way through into another room, which was a small bar with a counter along two sides of it. Luke looked around expectantly, searching for women, but could see no-one but a male bar tender, who responded to Jed's request for more drinks with a friendly nod.
Luke noticed that Jed was grinning at him in a way he'd come to recognise. "Have I missed something?" he asked.
Jed smiled some more. "Remember the pleasure boxes?"
It was another moment before Luke worked things out and looked down from the surface of the counter to crotch level. Sure enough, set into the vertical surface, and spaced about two feet apart, were discrete holes, behind which glistening pussies gaped, waiting to be put to use. Luke leaned over the counter to the barman's side, but there was nothing to be seen. The women inside the bar had to be bent completely double and pushed flat against each surface, their legs straight, their heads down at their ankles no doubt well gagged and completely immobilized so they couldn't make a noise or move about.
The barman caught his eye and read his mind. "There's just one at this end where we use this side of her too." He indicated a hole in the far end of the counter through which an open mouth could just be seen.
With no further ado, Luke unzipped himself, and selecting a spot along the counter, perched on the edge of a stool and slipped his ultra-stiff prick through the hole and into the hot pussy provided for the purpose. He couldn't suppress a loud sigh of pleasure.
"I like it in here," Jed said, doing the same, "because you can just sit and sip drinks and chat for ages, all the time just resting your cock in the conveniently provided cunt. I think more places should have this facility."
But try as he might to prolong his enjoyment, Luke was just too aroused to last, and shot into the anonymous depths buried beneath the counter after just a couple of fierce strokes. He did stay inside for a while, though, as he downed a beer and watched Jed achieve a more controlled, dignified climax.
"I suppose spikes feature in this form of bondage as well?" Luke ventured, remembering what had been exposed when the pleasure box at the market had been opened.
"Who knows," said Jed. "Have you seen what it's like under here?" he asked the barman.
"Well, it only gets opened every few months. The girls are snapped into these rubber moulds yeah, I think they are all rough and lumpy on the inside and there's all feeding and waste tubes everywhere not very erotic, really, but the customers don't see any of that."
"So how long are they kept like this, then?" Luke asked, wondering if he'd misheard the bit about months.
"Oh, permanently, I should think," said the barman. "Well, I've been here six years and they haven't been changed during that time, as far as I know."
Jed gave a little laugh and, saying that there was still a lot to see, ushered Luke out of the bar and out of Pussymania, leaving him perplexed as to whether or not the barman had been joking about the bar pussies being genuinely permanent fixtures. He resolved to come back alone one day and ask a few more questions, but it was a resolution which was to somehow slip his mind.
"So what's next?" Luke asked Jed, as they stepped out into the sunshine once more, refreshed from their drinks and their fuck.
"Well," Jed replied. "The freak shows are popular attractions."
Luke made a face. "I'm not sure," he said. "I wouldn't want to see anything too unpleasant."
"You needn't worry, there's nothing too extreme. And anyway, you can miss anything you don't like the sound of."
So they strolled along to a large pavilion and found themselves traversing a broad corridor along each side of which were a number of rooms or large booths. Their contents were shielded from view by a tall screen one had to step behind. Luke could hear murmurs of appreciation and occasional outbursts of applause from the openings through which the male spectators wandered.
"Shall we start here?" Jed suggested, and Luke looked up at the sign which read 'Vibrating Fat Lady; Watch Her Blubber Bounce!'
Slightly embarrassed, Luke nodded and followed Jed and a few others into the viewing area of the booth.
Now Luke thought he'd seen fat women, but nothing had prepared him for the sheer scale of the individual who sat naked before them smiling. She was sitting on something, but you couldn't see what. Her gigantic bottom hung over the sides of her seat, the structure of which was hidden by her elephantine thighs and lower legs. A massive stomach rested on her lap, and stupendous tits drooped down on top of her belly.
She was unbelievable. If Luke had been describing her to someone, he would have said, 'Imagine the fattest woman you've ever seen then double it!' n
All this Luke took in immediately. It was only after a few seconds that he realized that the fat lady's seat was rotating slowly, presenting her phenomenal body to the spectators at constantly changing angles.
"I don't know which is more impressive the front or the back!" said Jed, as her impossibly wide bottom came into view. Luke didn't know what to say. He couldn't deny that he found the woman immensely erotic and appealing. He imagined her lying on a bed and himself climbing on top of her wow! It occurred to him that it could probably be arranged, but he restrained himself from making the request. Somehow, having a big woman seemed more gluttonous and licentious that 'just' having a slim one.
Then, to Luke's surprise, the woman spoke to them.
"Turn that dial, Gentlemen, and see what happens."
One of the other spectators stepped forward to the knob indicated, and turned it. Immediately the woman's huge tits and belly and butt began to shake as a motor caused the seat to vibrate beneath her. The effect was breathtaking. The blubber certainly did bounce, and jiggle and ripple and wobble, in great waves! Even her triple chins vibrated wildly.
The spectator turned the knob some more, and amazingly, the strength and frequency of the vibrations increased, until the exhibit was being jerked and shaken about so much, it seemed she would surely be thrown from the stool. She split her legs a little though her pussy was still hidden behind the folds of flesh of her thighs and tummy and held her breasts up with chubby hands. She continued to rotate presenting her huge juddering ass for variety and seemed quite happy to be sitting on her stool all day, turning and shaking, and exhibiting her bulk to passers by.
"It's feeding time soon," she said to them with some difficulty, as her lips and cheeks were shaking so much. "Stay and see me stuff myself with roast chicken and cream cakes!"
The thought of her feeding her face while naked on the vibrating stool was too much for Luke, though. Despite his recent relief, a huge erection had sprung up on sight of those huge wobbling tits, and was getting uncomfortable. He noticed as they left the booth that Jed turned the vibration dial up to maximum, leaving the fat lady to bounce and wobble her time away, licking her lips at the thought of the huge quantities of food that would soon be forced into her mouth from a spout just above her head, and just a little worried about the spectators getting splashed with chocolate sauce, if the vibration remained this severe while the spout attempted to pour gallons of the stuff straight down her throat, as it had yesterday.
Returning once more to the central area, the first sign that caught Luke's eye was one which said 'Step Inside and Be Amazed! The Largest Tits in the Universe!'
"I thought we'd just seen those!" Luke remarked, but Jed shook his head.
"I think you'll find this is something different. A bit of genetic engineering involved, I'd say."
With eyebrows raised and full of curiosity, Luke stepped behind the screen. A few seconds later, he was reflecting that erotic shocks were becoming so frequent, they were getting tiresome. He would have to get more used to the extreme.
Now there are big tits, and very big tits, and huge tits. There are tits in cartoon drawings which look impossible, and tits in the fantasies of big tit fanatics, which part crowds or droop to the floor. Then there were these tits.
Imagine two spheres about six feet yes, six feet in diameter resting on the floor. Then imaging a slim, five foot woman standing next to them. This woman can't walk (without the assistance of a huge mobile crane mechanism, or two massive trolleys on wheels), can't see anything in front of her but a climbing wall of soft flesh, can't lie on her back without being crushed and suffocated by the weight of her own tits, and can't ever touch or even see her own nipples.
She moves around the area of the booth in which, incidentally, she lives, permanently by straining hard to drag her freak breasts around the floor. She displays herself to the watching visitors by pushing herself against a wall and squashing her lithe body against her super-tits in rapturous writhing, or by jumping up and down and waving to her audience over the top of her cleavage.
Sometimes she is assisted by two 'tit maidens' slight, normally proportioned females who help her to move around, or massage oils into the massive mounds so that they slide a little more easily over the smooth floor. This is in fact what was happening when Luke and Jed entered the exhibit.
The owner of the tits was herself out of sight, while the tit maidens were clambering over the phenomenal objects, using their bodies to massage them 'til they were sleek and shiny. One of the little assistants had actually jumped up on top of the right hand flesh mountain and now lay sprawled out on it, tummy down, and hands kneading the soft flesh.
Luke imagined trying to describe the scene to his colleagues back home.
"No, the tits are literally resting on the floor, and these other two girls actually run round them and help move them round, like big blown up cushions, grabbing the huge nipples with both hands to hoist them around, and sometimes they both get in the cleft between them, so they're actually hidden from sight, squashed between massive walls of tit flesh until they climb out from the cleavage, and the whole point of it is the contrast between the small, normal sized women, and these absolutely massive things which must be so heavy and mean the woman who owns them is absolutely trapped by her own tits, she's just this little thing attached to the side of them, and her life is completely dominated by having these amazing things that thousands and thousands of men come to gawp at, and then while we were watching the two tit maidens got down on all fours and burrowed their way under each tit, and then strained and groaned 'til they'd lifted them up on their backs, so then the woman could at least take a few steps around the room with her helpers crawling along on all fours in front of her, supporting the weight of her massive tits on their backs and bums.'
Even Jed seemed fascinated by this particular freak exhibit, although he had obviously seen it before.
"Wait 'til you see what they do to her in a minute," he whispered to Luke, who kept watching avidly, and was soon surprised to see the assistants attach some chains and cables to the woman's ankles, and then leave the room.
Suddenly, the slack on the cables was taken up from above, and the woman's feet were pulled back from under her and hoisted up into the air. She fell forward onto her tits which rolled round so that the nipples rested on the floor and their owner lay comfortably on top of the huge, squashed mounds, squirming round like a sea lion trying to balance on top of a huge ball.
"I think she sleeps like this," Jed muttered, but she certainly wasn't going to sleep right now. Her legs were suddenly pulled up much higher so she was stretched out upside down above her tits, and then the tension on the cables started to vary, so that she was bounced up and down on part of her own body, which served as a trampoline.
As if the image hadn't got shocking and kinky enough, the tit maidens then reappeared with whips and began to lay into the pulsating, squashed gourds on which the inverted figure bounced.
When the screaming began, Luke again decided it was time to move on. He didn't want to spend the rest of the day with a wet patch in his trousers!
In fact, he was so obviously overcome that Jed suggested they split up, enabling him to take things at his own pace, and so Luke found himself wandering alone through the funfair attractions, fascinated by what he was seeing around him, trying to control his zip-splitting excitement, and having absolutely the time of his life!
Of the many things he saw that day, one in particular featured in his fantasies for some time to come.
As he explored Pussyland, he found, in one place, a long stall at which several men were throwing heavy balls at something, and intermittently cheering or groaning. Surely they weren't throwing these balls at women, he thought? He peeped round the corner, ready for anything. In fact they weren't although later, he did see a stall where objects were aimed at a row of naked bottoms, with the objective of tipping a woman forwards so her head got dunked in a pail of mud; great fun! In this case however, the balls were actually being thrown at coconuts on shelves, just like in a funfair back home. The difference, though, was that beside each set of coconuts, a woman stood, tied up on a special bondage station. There were six women in all, Luke noticed, each perched on extraordinarily high heels, ankles shackled together and to the floor, and arms stretched up above the head and fixed securely to a hook in the surface against which they stood. The women's mouths were gagged severely, and a stiff collar held their heads up, and still.
While each woman's tits and pussy were exposed, she was far from naked. Her waist was encompassed by a broad, heavy duty corset, black and shiny, and reinforced by what looked like metal bars. But these weren't ordinary corsets. They were clearly connected to some mechanism in the wall behind, and there was also a connection to the shelves bearing coconuts.
Suddenly, an automated voice sounded from within the stall; a male voice.
"Roll up, roll up! Welcome to Corsets 'n' Coconuts, the favorite attraction of those who believe a lady's waist should be nice and small and I mean small! Try your luck with three balls. Every coconut dislodged directly activates the corset mechanism a quarter of an inch. Watch the inch monitor on the wall behind each subject. Waists start at 22 inches each morning, and by evening well, there's no limit! So knock those coconuts down, boys, and watch those waists get smaller and smaller!"
A character standing beside Luke turned to him with a smile. "Fancy a go?"
Luke, uncertain but not wanting to be rude, shrugged his shoulders. "Why not?"
They each picked up three little balls, and wandered down the length of the stall.
"This one's the smallest," said Luke's new-found colleague, indicating the dial which stood at 17 inches.
"How low do they go?" Luke asked him, his eyes drawn to the woman's constricted waist, which already seemed tiny, especially compared to her bulging tits and broad hips.
"Oh, I've seen a twelve."
"Twelve inches? It can't be possible!"
"Well, it's all mechanical, isn't it. If the machine keeps on squashing and squeezing, the waist just has to get squashed and squeezed!"
Luke fingered his balls not the ones he most felt like fingering!
"Shall we have a go at this one, then?" he asked.
"Sure. After you."
Dragging his eyes from the hourglass figure of the woman, he sized up the coconut challenge and took careful aim. The first ball missed completely. So did the second.
"See, it's not so easy," said his companion, mournfully.
Luke tried again, and more by luck than judgment toppled a coconut out of its seat.
"Well done!"
There was a loud whirr and a click as the mechanism controlling the woman's waist size went into action. You could just see the corset go one notch tighter. Just see how the woman flinched and drew in breath a little as her suffering was increased.
A quarter of an inch didn't sound like much, but once the waist was already being crushed to such small proportions, and all that was in the woman's mind was the urgent need to be released from the awful pressure, or for it to at least lessen, each tiny additional constriction was panic-inducing and intolerable.
All day these women would stand here, entirely at the mercy of the machines clamped around their middles, and with nothing to think about but their discomfort, and nothing to look at but the men sizing up their measurements and doing their lustful best to make them even more impressive. As the hours dragged by and their waists got smaller, they would begin to fear more and more that someone would be particularly successful, and that their proportions would reach impossible levels. Struggling for breath, they would continue to stand in immobile panic, until at last late at night the park would close, and they would be released for a few hours respite at a more tolerable 22 inches. The apparatus which held them in bondage tipped back ninety degrees for the night, and there they all slept, still tied in exactly the same way, still prisoners of the dreadful metallic waist crushers, only waiting for the following day, when the dreadful constriction of their bodies would begin all over again!
* * *
SMUGGLERS
Now, while Luke was exploring the delights of Hedonia, what of the spaceship which had brought him here, and to which the reader has since given no thought whatsoever? Well, it was now millions of light years away, a tiny speck of electronics in the interstellar void, but during the three days it had been in dock at Hedonia's spaceport, a little drama had been enacted which only two men and a few women, it has to be said knew about.
One of these men was a Hedonian called Neville. Now Hedonia had its criminal underworld just like anywhere else, and suffice it to say that Neville was part of it a substantial part. A little thievery here, a little swindling there nothing was beyond him, or below him but his conniving mind had worked out some time ago what Hedonia's most profitable resource was, and for that reason visits from starships were of particular interest to him.
On the very same day that Luke disembarked, Neville was hanging around the space port, clutching the papers which would shortly allow him access to the service areas, and chatting to the gaggle of other suppliers and traders who had business with the ship.
Now just because Hedonia didn't have a major trading relationship with other planets didn't mean that it denied spaceships hospitality, or refused to service or supply them. On a small scale therefore, a lot of business would be transacted while the ship was here, although it was all carefully monitored and policed by customs officers. Over the next three days the ship would take on fuel and a relatively vast amount of supplies ranging from fresh local vegetables and other foodstuffs (in huge quantities there were over 2000 personnel on the ship) through a variety of items such as office supplies and toilet paper, to emergency engine parts and computer components, and many other things necessary to maintain the complex functioning of a state-of-the-art starship.
It wouldn't leave anything, though. Waste was dumped in deep space, and unofficial visitors to Hedonia were not allowed.
Neville, as a front for more lucrative activities, had several genuine business interests, most notably the supply of alcoholic beverages. He had secured a contract to supply this ship in advance of its visit, and because of the penchant of humans everywhere to indulge in the delights of liquor, he was looked upon with particular indulgence by the ship's officials. (They didn't know it yet, but he also intended to sell them a large batch of vacuum packed ready meals which had fallen off the back of a Hedonian transport just the thing for busy starship executives, he would have thought.)
Enough about his cover! What Neville was really here to do was make contact with an accomplice on the ship a character by the name of Ron, who just happened to be head of requisitions and pick up some instructions as to what he was really being asked to supply.
You guessed it Hedonian women were far from unknown to criminal elements in other parts of the galaxy, and the rich anywhere if they knew who to ask could arrange for the compliant beauties to be exported to order, a trade made possible by the greed driven risk taking undertaken by a small network of villains such as Neville and Ron.
Within an hour access to the loading bays had been allowed, and the two Gentlemen with whom we are concerned found each other in the throng.
"Morning."
"Morning."
"Welcome to the land of milk and honey."
"Don't you mean milk and money?"
This exchange was, of course, a prearranged code. Ron and Neville had never met, although they had talked extensively on pirate interplanetary communication systems over the past year or so.
They shook hands and chatted, aware they were probably being carefully observed, and taking care to limit their conversation to genuine business.
"The Hedonian malt should go down well, and there's a bit of a craze for exotic wines at the moment, so I'll take a good selection," Ron concluded, aware that other suppliers were milling around, waiting to get his attention. "Here's a copy of my spec list. Perhaps you can help us out in the soft drinks area as well."
Neville took the list, only to find it snatched from his hand by a customs official who had sneaked up on them.
"I'll take a look at that," said the shrew-like character, and not only flicked through the pages of the document but shook it out to check that nothing had been secreted between it's pages. Goodness knows what he expected, or hoped, to find perhaps a tabloid journalist's report on the secret evils of Hedonia, complete with saucy photos in full color. There was nothing to be seen, however, but page upon page of largely unintelligible computer printout, and the man soon lost interest and handed the thing back with a grunt.
Neville and Ron exchanged a look which encompassed relief, collusion, smugness and amusement.
"Well, do you think you can fill the order?" Ron couldn't resist saying, before turning to go.
"Don't see why not. I'll certainly do my best," Neville replied, and they parted company with nods specially designed not to look too friendly.
Without appearing to hurry, Neville left the terminal and drove home. He whistled to himself, reflecting on how much he had been looking forward to today. Life was good, sometimes.
As soon as he was inside his apartment, with all the blinds drawn and a favorite drink in his hand, Neville scanned through the requisition list eagerly to find the coded section he was looking for.
There it was! Taking up less than half a page in the 'miscellaneous other' section a series of numbers which only he would recognise and which would allow him access to a substantial amount of money in a secret account. This was followed by a coded specification of the goods he was to supply.
Ten! His eyes widened. That was double last time's number (last time being a few months ago when a ship from a different planet had (rather conveniently) broken down within Hedonian hyperspace and asked for permission to dock for repairs).
Ten! Quite a challenge, considering he only had three days at the most, but one he was more than prepared to take on, considering it meant double the pay off. He deciphered the special requests. Two black, three blonde, one extra large, and one with small tits this last was going to be the trickiest to find!
The rest were not described and therefore standard, but it went without saying that all of them had to be beautiful and utterly, flawlessly user-friendly. That was what the punters were paying for.
Next Neville poured over the rest of the requisition. This was important, and was in fact the bit he enjoyed most about this little sideline. He had to get ten girls aboard that ship without the customs, police or anyone aboard her (except Ron) noticing. It wasn't just a case of smuggling them on when no-one was looking. They had to be hidden very carefully andingeniously amongst the genuine supplies. This was where creativity was required, and it was the sort of creativity that Neville enjoyed most. He turned the pages again and again, looking for ideas and inspiration. The request for fire extinguishers caught his eye, as did the order of an ice making machine.
He sat back and had a long think which led to a long jack off. Then he had bite to eat before reaching for the phone and setting his plans in motion.
Neville worked hard in the next two days. He had the contacts and he had the money, and he had no doubt that he would be able to fulfill the order for ten Hedonian women to leave with the starship. The women were soon procured through various secret channels. They had all been sneaked out from situations where they wouldn't be missed for example one of the several hundred used to decorate the main thoroughfares of the city centre, and one of the several dozen offering a naked porterage service at the bottom of a particularly steep hill in the shopping district.
Since, as a typical Hedonian, he had a strong personal interest in female bondage and subjugation, he attended to the tasks in hand personally. His various acquaintances delivered the necessary raw materials-including the women to an old warehouse he happened to own, and in here he locked himself, literally and metaphorically rolled up his sleeves, and prepared to have fun.
This was how the ten women would spend their interstellar journeys.
Neville had undertaken some of the easier preparations first, leaving the more complicated arrangements 'til later. His first thought had been to put to use some of his own alcoholic supplies. He didn't dare replace too much volume of alcohol with smuggled women as a shortage of booze was the sort of thing that might be noticed, but nevertheless he found room for two pieces of human cargo in a couple of beer barrels. He had simply had the bottoms cut out to allow him to squeeze a doubled up woman into each. Bit of a problem getting the arms and legs neatly tucked away, but he'd managed it in the end, with the help of the girls themselves. Always eager to please, he'd simply left them alone for a while and told them to experiment. He came back to find the one who'd tried to get in the barrel bottom-first hopelessly stuck in it with her legs still waving in the air, but the other, who had tipped the barrel on its side and crawled in slowly head-first, had made a better job of it. He gave her a helping hand by standing the barrel on end and using gravity to help jam her in further.
"Good girl," he said, pushing on her ass and crossing her ankles and distinctly heard a stifled "Thank you, Sir" issuing from the depths of the barrel.
He tipped a couple of cans of beer over her upended rear just to make sure the barrel smelt right then refitted the loose bottom and turned the barrel the right way up, double checking the tiny air holes under the rim.
It would do, he decided, standing back and enjoying the way he had completely hidden the voluptuous female form from sight. There was no time for complex servicing arrangements. It would be Ron's job to look after that end of things, once the girls were safely aboard the ship.
Now Neville turned to the jack-knifed woman in the other barrel, who was crying.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I just tried sitting in it and now I'm stuck!"
Neville shook his head. "Silly thing! Now listen, I'll turn you upside down and you grab hold of that railing near the floor. I'll see if I can pull this thing off you."
With great pleasure, he hoisted the barrel over 'til its contents could stand on the floor naked hands and feet protruding from the bottom and splayed out for all the world like four legs of a bar table.
"Where's the railing, Sir?" came an echoing voice from inside the barrel. "I can't see anything."
Sir looked around. There was in fact a suitable railing quite nearby, but it suddenly occurred to him that it might be amusing to watch this animated container struggle a little way across the warehouse.
"Move," he said, nudging the barrel with his knee. "I'll direct you."
It was amusing. The feet and hands could only make tiny, pattering little steps, and it was obviously difficult for the girl to maintain her balance, especially when Neville nudged her a few more times to change direction. Suddenly inspired, he jumped up to sit on the flat top of the barrel, and giggled at how it shook and wobbled beneath him.
"Come on, keep moving straight on," he shouted. "Nearly there."
His bizarre ride over, he guided the woman 'til she was stood over the low railing feet beneath it and hands clutching hard then began to pull the barrel free from the doubled over torso and thighs it encased.
On the one hand, his weight on top of her had forced the woman even deeper into her prison, but on the other, the fact she had sweated as she struggled to move and carry him had provided some lubrication. Slowly she came free until her head and squashed up tits emerged, but her ample bottom remained jammed, however hard he tried to free it.
The girl was crying again, and so was Neville with laughter. Gosh, this was fun.
"It's no good, you'll just have to stay in there! Look, you're just out far enough for me to bend your legs down. If I can get your feet inside the rim, I can push you all back in again."
By folding her legs so that the calves were flat against her thighs, and with the aid of a little beer as lubrication, he managed to get all the bits of her inside the barrel. Tucking her arms down between her tits, he gave her a little pat on the forehead.
"Of course, this means you'll be spending the journey basically standing on your head, but then it serves you right for getting your ass wedged in here in the first place, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Sir," she said one more time, before he sealed her neatly away from sight, then rolled the barrel back across the warehouse floor to where the first one awaited.
Feeling mischievous, he stacked barrel one on top of barrel two, cautioning their contents to stay nicely still and quiet and pretend they were already among the several hundred genuine barrels of beer that would be loaded onto the ship tomorrow.
A discrete, secret mark was all that would enable Ron to tell this shipment apart from the real booze.
Two done, eight still to go, Neville reflected, and hurried over to begin work on the cauliflowers.
Cauliflowers? Yes, several hundred of them in one huge crate, towards the centre of which he intended to hide another woman!
Moving about half of the quality vegetable produce out of the way, he grabbed another of the women from the silent group which waited resignedly where he had told them to, and instructed her to push her legs deep into the pile at a wide angle until she was wading almost waist deep in cauliflower heads. Then he began to pile the vegetables round her until she was entirely surrounded and crushed by them. During the operation he told her to lean back, with her arms behind her, so that her head and torso faced upwards. He then enjoyed himself packing the cauliflowers artistically around her so that only her face and tits protruded from the huge sea of them spreading across the top of the crate.
In the gloom of a storage room, he doubted whether anyone would immediately notice that three of the similar sized mounds were in fact animal rather than vegetable! Of course if a kitchen assistant reached in and found himself with a handful of soft tit instead of an ingredient of his dinner, he might be a bit shocked, but again it was Ron's job, shipside, to ensure that sort of thing didn't happen.
After taking a little break, Neville decided to inspect one of the pieces of smuggling equipment he had had specially adapted. It was a fire extinguisher, of the giant variety which would stand in some corner of the cargo decks and be operated automatically.
It had occurred to him that one of these would just be big enough to contain a smallish woman, and that it was an excellent hiding place as no one would ever believe that such a thing could conceal a human being. Anyone who had seen an averagely sized Hedonian woman would be right to think it impossible, as there would be no room in the slim cylinder for the big, jutting out tits to go. But Neville had an order for a small breasted woman, and it was to this slight creature that he now beckoned.
She approached the fire extinguisher wide eyed, and stared with even more shocked horror as Neville eased the casing open to reveal the relatively tiny space within. He was pleased to see that his instructions had been carried out the hollow extinguisher was lined with coarse sandpaper.
He had been concerned about the stability of the extinguisher. He suspected it probably would be affixed to something when upright, but just in case it was ever left free-standing, he didn't want the struggles of the woman inside to send it toppling over. Hence the sandpaper, which would ensure the occupant kept completely still, as any movement against the tight walls that would surround her so closely would be extremely painful and uncomfortable.
"Step inside," he said to the girl, gesturing with mock politeness, and watched her squeeze herself gingerly into the tight little space. Her head, shoulders and hips just fit, though he had to push a little here and there, which made her flinch and yowl as the sandpaper scratched and scraped her.
"Say goodbye to Hedonia!" he quipped as he eased the front casing shut, but the poor girl was still too shocked by what was happening to her to utter a word, and just gaped at him mutely, eyes wider than ever, until she was hidden from sight.
Neville consulted the checklist he had compiled over the last couple of days, wondering which option to address next. He chose the simplest.
He turned to the remaining girls. "Who wants to be a box of toilet paper?"
This request was, unsurprisingly, met with silence.
"It's an easy option, I assure you," he told them. "What's a bit of humiliation to ladies of your obliging nature?"
Legs shaking, one of the girls eventually stepped forward.
"Okay, follow me," Neville said, and marched her over to a corner of the warehouse where a huge consignment of boxes waited piled up in fork-lift-truckable stacks. He shifted a few around and pulled one out from towards the middle of a stack.
"Don't want you accidentally disturbed before Ron can sort you out, do we?" he mumbled.
He opened the box, which was of conventional cardboard and just about woman sized extremely squashed up uncomplaining Hedonian woman sized, that is.
We might live in the age of starships and super technology, he reflected as he removed several dozen rolls of pink toilet paper, but we haven't come up with an alternative to this yet! Some of man's basic requirements don't change!
"In you get," he said to the resigned toilet paper substitute, and helped her squeeze herself into the box.
And then suddenly the pent up arousal from his morning's work became too much.
"Get your ass up," he growled. "I'm going to fuck you."
Obediently, the girl raised her rump, and her cunt became visible above the rim of the cardboard. The rest of her was still well and truly inside the box her head down and touching the bottom of it.
Neville got his prick out, knelt down, and plunged into the tight cunt with great pleasure. He glanced over to where the two barrels, box of cauliflowers, and fire extinguisher stood with their hidden secrets, and a few moments' concentration on what the four women were experiencing and would continue to experience for days if not weeks, soon had him over the edge.
"What do you say?" he asked his fuck automatically.
"Thank you, Master," came the reply nice and muffled, the way Neville liked and was used to.
Watching his spunk run out from the hole he'd just used, he picked up one of the surplus toilet rolls and jammed it up between the girl's legs with a little chuckle. Then he pushed her firmly down again and taped up the box carefully so it looked like all the others. A couple of air holes and a secret mark later, he was burying the box back towards the middle of the stack, and turning his attention to the next task on the agenda.
This was perhaps his favorite idea. It involved a large refuse collector essentially a dustbin which had been ordered to replace a broken one on the ship. Apparently it would be one of a bank of several used in the ship's kitchens and was therefore likely to fill up with all manner of food scraps for example egg shells, onion skins, cabbage leaves, rotting tomatoes, over ripe plums, out of date sauces, forgotten fish fillets, too smelly cheese, abandoned gateaux, etc, etc as well as the more than occasional empty curry carton, piece of greaseproof paper, dustpan full of broken glass you get the general idea!
Periodically, he understood, the bins were automatically turned upside down and emptied into a larger container, in which the garbage was compressed before being fired into space. It was therefore vital that anyone hidden inside one of them was well secured to the walls or floor so they wouldn't be dislodged.
Neville had carefully inspected the refuse collector and found that much of its currently empty inside could be seen through the relatively large flap in the top. However, the blind spot was sufficiently big to hide two occupants, and he had decided to use the two black girls, who would be even harder to see, should anyone happen to peer into the dark interior of the bin.
It had taken him some time to decide whether to have them lying on the floor or standing against the wall below the flap, which there was plenty of room for them to do without coming anywhere near the top of the huge bin. Lying tied up at the bottom of a pile of garbage was perhaps the more humiliating position and safer from the point of view of discovery but then he'd have to worry more about breathing arrangements and the girls wouldn't have the experience of watching the mound of rotting rubbish build up, slowly burying them up to the knees, then waist, then neck.
Always aware of the humiliation potential of his smuggling masterpieces for this is how he saw them, almost as works of art he had gone for a series of metal restraints against the 'blind' wall which he'd had specially commissioned and fitted ready for this moment.
These would fasten themselves tightly around the girls' ankles, thighs, waists, shoulders, wrists and neck automatically when pressure was applied. Once closed, there would be no release until they were cut free on arrival in their new home in some distant galaxy. He had to make sure his precious cargo wasn't accidentally thrown out into the void with the rubbish! n
Neville beckoned the two black girls towards him, and on the face of one of them, he thought he saw something he hadn't come across in a woman for many years resentment.
Stunned, he challenged her.
"Get down on your knees, slave, and worship my crotch!"
The woman obeyed, but there wasn't the right amount (i.e., a lot) of enthusiasm in her kissing. He grabbed her hair.
"So you don't like the idea of the dustbin, eh? Who do you think you are?! "
The woman trembled.
"Tell me how happy you are to spend the next few days getting covered in kitchen waste!"
Scared now, the woman answered quickly. "I'm honoured to spend the next few days inside a dustbin, Master!"
But it was too late. Though she hadn't said a word in protest, the momentary look in her eyes had given away the fact that her motivation or programming whichever it was had failed her, and she had been tempted to rebel.
"You," he said to the other girl. "Go over there and get me that cane from the wall."
The girl ran to fulfill her task, and had soon returned with the four foot instrument of punishment in her hand.
Neville addressed the miscreant "Bend over and touch your toes!"-and was amused by the speed with which she did so.
"Now," he handed the cane to the woman who had fetched it. "You can do the caning. Twenty strokes. As hard as you can."
Quashing all sorts of emotions, the second woman also speedily obeyed her instructions. Lifting the cane high, she swished it down onto her companion's up-thrust bottom, and proceeded to repeat the action as quickly as she could, as if to get it over with as soon as possible.
The recipient did her very best to stay still and stifle her screams. The pain was horrendous, but in a way she felt numb to it. After all, she had n shown reluctance and deserved to be punished. After twenty rapid, heavy strokes, however, she was sobbing quite uncontrollably, and was desperate to stand up and at least rub her hands over her poor, abused bottom. She stayed in position, though, eagerly awaiting an indication that the punishment was over.
"Mm, not bad," said Neville to the woman standing, panting, cane in hand. "Quite a proficient punishment very exciting to see you expend all that energy. However," he snatched the cane away from her. "Not really hard enough for my liking! Let me show you how it's done."
Patting, stroking, teasing the weal covered ass with the cane, he kept the shaking woman in dreadful suspense before swinging his arm right back and bringing the cane down with all the force he could muster. This time the woman did scream, and lost her balance, toppling over heavily on the floor, and squirming around in agony, her hands clutching her bottom at last but not helping at all to relieve the searing pain.
"Up into position, quickly," Neville instructed calmly, and the woman had no choice but to obey. "I haven't time for another twenty, but perhaps another four or five like that will teach you not to go against your true nature in future. Here it comes."
This time he used both hands, and stepped forward with the stroke. He really wanted to see how hard he could hit her. There was no reason at all for him not to.
Again the woman fell to the floor, screaming and squirming and sobbing. Her colleague, standing limply nearby, was also sobbing by this time, but trying anxiously to hide it, desperately afraid that she also might soon be writhing in agony on the floor.
Four more times the scene was repeated as Neville dished out as heavy a caning as he could. He had seldom enjoyed himself as much!
"Now stop that blubbering this instant," he told his victim firmly when it was over, "or we'll start all over again."
He stood, playing with the cane and worrying for a while before next addressing the broken woman.
"This is very serious. Someone's paying a huge amount of money for you, and we can't go sending out less than perfect goods. The reputation of Hedonian women and hence this whole operation depends on your good behavior. There's no time to replace you now, so you just listen to me. If I ever hear any sort of bad report back through the network, I'll personally come and find you and give you a punishment you'll be lucky to live through. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Master," the woman whispered. She believed him, and she was right to.
"Now, just to help remind you to get your emotions back on track, I'm going to fix you to that wall upside down. It's not going to be comfortable because the fittings weren't designed for it, but that's tough luck. And no imagine breathing tube or anything you'll just have to struggle for your air through the cabbage leaves!"
Neville put the cane aside and fetched a couple of huge ball gags he had ready.
"Since I can't trust you to be quiet, I'm going to gag you both of you. What a shame, you'll have no option but to breathe through your noses all the time and hence inhale all the delightful smells!"
He forced the gags into the girls' mouths and then thought of one more potential problem.
"I don't want whoever unpacks you at the other end to think you've been disobedient, so make sure you tell him the cane weals and the upside down position are just a special extra for his amusement. Don't forget!"
Impatient now, he ushered the girls through the service door in the side of the huge refuse bin. Leaving the door open allowed in enough light to show up the metal fixtures, which he checked as he had done when the bin was first delivered.
"Now," he said to the unmarked of the two women. "Because you've been so good, I'm going to let you stand facing the wall. Split your legs, get your arms up, and stand close to the wall. Go on!"
Feeling very lucky though luck was definitely relative in this case she sidled up to the waiting, spring loaded bands of metal. When she was properly lined up she moved forward without further prompting, and felt the ten steel restraints entrap her. Her legs were stretched too wide, her arms too high, and her tits were too squashed against the cold, black wall but at least she wouldn't see what was building up behind her. And at least she wasn't to suffer the journey upside down and covered in fresh weals! Deep down, she had found the caning difficult, but it was infinitely better to have been giving rather than receiving!
Neville now swung the other girl up into the air and round, then deposited her almost threw her onto the waist restraint, upside down, and facing outwards, of course. It closed nice and tightly, and for a moment she hung there, struggling, her legs and arms waving in the air.
"Stay still!" Neville snapped, and bent down to position her arms against what were meant to be the thigh and ankle restraints. It was a stretch but he managed it. Next he pressed her thighs into the shoulder clamps and fixed her feet where her hands should've gone. She looked very ungainly and uncomfortable good!
Only the neck clamp remained empty. He stood looking at it for a while, then retreated into the depths of his warehouse. A few minutes among the wealth of equipment he kept there, and he returned with a long, thick dildo, padded at one end with layers of taped on sponge. He pushed it down into the woman's vulnerable pussy and fixed the padded end firmly in the neck clamp.
"Perfect fit! Not bad for a quick improvisation!"
Feeling very pleased, therefore, with his modified waste bin, he returned to the last two waiting women in a jovial mood.
"Now, I'm going to offer you two ladies a choice. Hot or cold, which do you prefer?"
The two women just looked at him, anxious and bemused.
"Let me explain," Neville continued. "One of you is going to spend the journey inside an ice machine right at the bottom, squeezed down against the cold metal by the two or three feet of ice cubes piled up on top of you! The other is going to be built into a hot drinks dispenser-cooped up nice and tightly just behind the casing where no-one will guess you're hiding, with lots of pipes carrying hot coffee and soup threaded all around you, and the main heating unit right under your ass! I should imagine you'll get nice and sweaty in there. Mm it'll be steaming off you! Now who's it going to be? Decide quickly."
Still the women hesitated, unable to get their minds round the horror of the options they were being forced to choose between.
"What's wrong with you?" Neville raved. "Didn't you see what happened to the black girl just now? Do you want me to order you to whip each other 'til one of you's unconscious?"
The women promptly remembered their user-friendliness which had so mysteriously deserted them and began to fall over themselves to choose the worst option.
"Let me sweat in the coffee maker or, no I'll be crushed by the ice!"
"I could do the cold option I'm used to shivering-I spent a week on a hook in a meat store just recently!"
"But I've been a fountain sculpture in winter! Oh, wait a minute! I should do the baking-I forgot, I get really bad heat rash, so I'll be even more uncomfortable than you 'cos I'll be itching all over as well."
Neville grinned at them. "Seems we've decided, then. Now follow me girls.. " And Neville set to work once more at his favorite pastime of reducing women to bondage objects.
Now if you've been counting, you might notice that only nine women's hiding places have been described. You might also have noticed which one was missing the large one. This is because in this particular case the arrangements had already been made and the shipment had been waiting elsewhere well, in a cargo bay next to the warehouse, actually for the last twelve hours.
Neville had been slightly worried when he'd first seen the request for a large specimen of womanhood, but not half as worried as when he'd seen her!
An acquaintance who owed him a favor worked on a fat farm one of several establishments on Hedonia which produced extra large sex slaves for those many citizens who liked them that way. The raw material was young, slim (although buxom) women like all the rest, but after a few years on the farm they were barely recognizable. They spent their days in rows of little rooms, happily or at least obediently-munching away at high calorie meals and definitely not getting any exercise. Most were striving to achieve weight gain targets, and would be punished severely if they didn't reach them on time.
A good fat farm could supply any size of woman on request, from slightly plump to unbelievably huge. Neville's contact had insisted that it was only one of the largest variety that he could get hold of at such short notice, and Neville had been forced to concur.
When he saw her, though! She could barely stand! He couldn't imagine her being any use as a working slave, but supposed that as an overblown sex doll she was interesting.
He scratched his head as he looked at her, wondering how on earth he was to smuggle such a huge creature aboard ship. He looked through the requisition again and noticed a requirement for a large quantity of lubricating oil for some moving components of the ship's function. A phone call told him the oil was being supplied in three large tanks, of a size suitable for haulage on Hedonian roads. That would have to be it. No other container would be big enough to contain this monster of a woman.
And so he had arranged to intercept the oil tankers when they arrived, and had had time to inspect them and devise a plan. Initially he had envisaged draining one and building some sort of capsule into it, but they were so big and the oil inside so thick and black and sticky and smelly, that he had decided it would be too difficult in the little time he had available and without proper equipment. So it had to be something more simple.
Clambering up onto the top of one of the tankers, he found it did have a large hatch through which his cargo should just about fit. It was quite full, though, and since he didn't want it to overflow when he put the woman in, he had to drain some of the oil off through a valve in the bottom, estimating how much volume her bulk might displace.
There were several valves and he chose the most inaccessible one to act as an air outlet for the woman who was to hide in the tank. A slight adaptation and a short tube was inserted ready for her to breathe through. Now he gave some thought to how she should be secured. While the thought of her floating and swishing around in the huge vat of black oil was pleasing, he didn't want her thudding against the sides and giving the game away. In the end he opted for the very simple solution of attaching a strong magnet to her he had planned to strap it round her waist, but this was so massive (not to mention difficult to find) that he had to settle for a thigh instead, and even then the strap only just went round which should anchor her to the metal side of the container.
With the aid of a mini crane he got her up above the tanker, and had her sit on the edge of the open hatch.
"Now," he told her. "You're going to jump in there when I say and feel around the front section until you find that breathing tube. Get your mouth round it quickly it's got a strap attached so it won't fall off when you sleep then activate the magnet and stay put. All you've got to do is lie there and keep breathing. It's your responsibility to stay alive!"
She looked at him meekly, and nodded. He was amazed at how well she was taking the idea of being immersed indefinitely in the depths of a huge tanker of thick sludge, with not a stitch of clothing on and nothing to protect her eyes, ears, nose and cunt from the intrusive liquid but then she was used to doing very little except what she was told.
"Remember, keep your mouth round that tube, because it's probably the only way you're going to get fed and watered during the journey. Okay, in you get."
He gave her a little push and watched her disappear from sight under the black surface of the liquid. There was a thud and a scramble, and he hurriedly closed the hatch and climbed down to see if she was breathing alright. Yes, the tiny sound of air being drawn in and exhaled gave the secret of the tanker away to the knowing ear.
"Bye!" he shouted, patting the side of the tank. But out of sight was not out of mind. During the night Neville had a nice long jack off at the thought of that huge blubbery mound of humanity lying quietly, deep inside the slippery black oil, totally isolated from the world and surrounded by cold liquid which slopped around every crease and crevice with the slightest movement.
In fact, the woman herself, who had quite a resigned and docile temperament, soon got used to her strange new world of total immersion, and even found that it had a rather unexpected benefit. The viscous oil supported her weight and made her feel as light as a feather. She couldn't resist deactivating the magnet and letting herself float upwards, and began to experiment with leaving the breathing tube and walking around and swimming in the oil. As her confidence grew, she enjoyed herself twisting and turning in the delightful medium, and soon became quite adept at splashing and paddling about, unseen, like a drunken walrus in a giant goldfish bowl.
When, some weeks later, the long journey was over, and the oil was drained from the tanker to reveal a huge, black, slimy lump lying at the bottom, that lump was quivering with sobs. The fat farm product had just rudely rediscovered what it felt like to be heavy!
Neville hung around the port for much of the following day, keeping his eyes and ears open, but it couldn't be said that he oversaw the loading of his shipment. He didn't want to make himself too obvious, and he had to trust in the arrangements he had made going according to plan. He did catch a glimpse of the waste disposal unit being loaded, but since there was no outcry, he assumed none of his secret consignment had been discovered.
He met deliberately briefly with Ron to hand over coded details of where the women were hidden. He knew Ron would enjoy uncovering the secret cargo as much as he had enjoyed preparing it.
They shook hands, within the watchful gaze of a customs official.
"Enjoy your trip," said Neville to his accomplice.
"I'm sure I will," Ron replied with the tiniest of winks.
In fact Ron was so busy that day with his real job of seeing to the deliveries, it wasn't 'til late at night, when the ship had actually left the port and was hurtling its way through the space-time void, that he had time to study the coded list and work out which of the stowaways he would need to service first in the morning. (He wrongly assumed Neville had checked on and serviced all the women that day thereby forcing the variety of human packages now in his care to wait a little longer for a drink!)
He was very impressed by Neville's ingenuity and very aroused. The fat woman wallowing in the oil was his favorite, but unfortunately one of the least accessible. Of course there was no way he was going to have ten Hedonian sex slaves to look after without making the best possible use of at least some of them!
He decided on the woman in the toilet paper box as being the easiest one to satisfy his present needs coincidentally the same woman Neville had made use of just before sealing her up the previous day. Keeping an eye out for unwanted company, he made his way into the depths of the appropriate storeroom and located the latest delivery.
"Pussy! Hey, pussy, where are you?" he asked the boxes. After a little pause he heard a muffled groan and thus located the special package. He cut through the tape and opened up the box, sighing with pleasure as he revealed the naked curves of the woman within, all squashed up and uncomfortable.
"Mmmmm! Hello gorgeous," he said, looking down on her with appreciation, and particularly noting how you could see her big squashed tits peeping out from around her back.
He knelt down and began to feel her up all over. The toilet roll between her legs had served to absorb some of her piss, but had now dried out. He tossed it aside and plunged some fingers into her pussy. He also spent some time pinching her ass and tits which made her squirm a little in the tight space.
"Now do you really think you should've responded to my call just now?" he asked her. "Didn't anyone tell you to keep quiet? What if I'd been a customs man?"
"I'm so sorry, Sir! I shouldn't have. Ouch!" That last pinch had been really hard!
"If I get a spare moment tomorrow, I'll come and punish you properly," Ron continued, "but right now I just want your cunt. Lift it up!"
Stiff, sore, tired, hungry and thirsty though she was, the woman obeyed quickly, raising her rump above the rim of the box to be ravished once more. Unable to wait a moment longer, Ron pushed himself into her, and was soon lost in long awaited oblivion.
And then, just as he was about to let himself go completely, he heard a noise behind him, and jerked his head round in shock and panic.
Here he was, the ship's senior requisitions officer, his pants down and his shaft deep inside the cunt of a smuggled Hedonian slave and there was none other than the ship's Captain, standing right behind him, and looking on with a frown.
"Captain Krik!" Ron exclaimed. "I I'm "
But what could he say? He'd been caught in the act.
Captain Krik shook his head slowly. "I'm very disappointed in you, Ron," he said.
"I'm sorry, Captain. I just couldn't resist!"
For a long moment there was no sound in the huge storeroom but Ron's embarrassingly loud panting and the gentle hum of the air conditioning.
"I distinctly told you," the Captain went on sternly, "to come and tell me the details as soon as you had them! I'm the Captain of this ship and I ought to be the first to sample the delights of any interesting stowaways we might be carrying! Oh well," he sighed. "I suppose I can't blame you for being keen. Most of the women on this ship are so prudish they'd drop dead at the sight of a willy. Just get out of there quickly and let me have a go!"
A few seconds later, Captain Krik had taken Ron's place, and the relieved smuggler had moved to the other end of his cargo.
Hold on, thought the woman in the box. If the Captain of the ship is in on all this, there's really no need for us to be hidden away in elaborate bondage, is there?
But before she could dwell on this depressing revelation, she was distracted by Ron providing her with her first drink for about thirty six hours three copious mouthfuls of sweet, milky spunk!
* * *
BUNNY'S TALE
Three weeks into his visit, Luke Blackmoor was hit by a revelation. It was a particular orgasm that did it.
One of the many, many surprises and delights of the Palace in which he was enjoying such a wonderful holiday (yes, he had to admit that was what it was), was a little room known as the Pussy Cave. It was underground, along a dimly lit corridor, and was decorated to look like some exotic grotto, with stone effect walls and an array of artificial stalactites and stalagmites. The Pussy Cave was quite small, small enough to make the twenty or so women who were always inside it make it seem very full and cramped indeed.
When you walked in, you found yourself utterly swamped and surrounded by a sea of naked, available womanhood. To move around you virtually had to fight your way through ranks of stretching limbs, and heaving breasts. All these women had been instructed to behave as if permanently sexually frustrated. Apparently, when no man was visiting them, they made good use of the aforementioned rock-like protrusions you could see where these had been eroded away by constant use!
All the President's guests and employees were allowed to visit the cave whenever and for however long they liked, and one night, Luke had spent a couple of hours rolling round in ecstasy, with pussies and tits just waiting to be groped and played with in all directions, and a stream of warm mouths fighting to suck him, 'til he was driven wild with the excess of pleasure.
It was when his orgasm finally exploded deep inside something like the tenth pussy his cock has been up in an hour and with his field of vision filled by about six massive pairs of tits clustered around his head, almost obscuring the image of two or three of these horny beauties working themselves off rapturously on the tips of massive stalagmites, that Luke experienced an all-embracing physical and emotional wrench and realization. It stayed with him as he staggered back to his room, and was foremost in his mind as he sat in bed now, after a night of ecstatic, erotic dreams.
Luke did not want to leave Hedonia! He could finally admit it to himself.
Hedonia was heaven, paradise, Utopia! Once experienced well, the thought of leaving was unbearable. His perspective on life had changed completely. He no longer cared about his home planet, his career, the United Planets' ambitions, or the success of this assignment. He had seen himself as a strong man, but he didn't have the strength to withstand the temptation of what was on offer here. A life of luxury and carefree pleasure!
He sat alone he'd turfed all the women out of his room on waking-sipping a drink and thinking hard.
If he broke faith with his employers, he could never go back. They would never forgive him he would be court-martialed, or worse! The press would condemn him, the whole galaxy would hate him. His family such as there was of it would turn against him and he would never be able to find another job assuming he didn't spend the rest of his life in some off-world prison.
So he had to be sure of his continued welcome on Hedonia. After all, he was being treated like this because he was an important visitor. What if things changed when he was just an immigrant? He hadn't actually been invited to stay and he couldn't guess what the reaction would be if he suggested it. After all, Hedonia had its own goals and ambitions.
Luke sighed. This was foolishness. He would just have to accept that the fantastic lifestyle he had been enjoying wasn't going to last indefinitely, and somehow handle the grief and withdrawal symptoms of leaving this luscious planet behind for ever.
Another thought occurred to him. It was his report which might determine whether Hedonia would be accepted into the galactic community. If he wanted to be able to come back, he had to ensure the report was favorable. But then his findings would be tested by others. What would the free women of other worlds have to say about the submissiveness of their counterparts in this culture?
He would have to think on it all some more, and continue with the moral battles.
But the women of Hedonia had had their effect on him. Luke was a changed man!
Soon after this, something else happened which was to add yet more turmoil to Luke's troubled mind. It involved Bunny, a third personal slave he had requested a while ago, having tired just a little of Pussy and Kitty.
Throughout most of Luke's stay on Hedonia, the weather had been exceptionally pleasant. It was high summer and the sun was making its presence felt, although light breezes made the temperature bearable.
Luke had been working on his report, and rather like when he had been a schoolboy, saw no reason not to take his work outdoors for a change. So far he had been writing in his room or in one of the Palace courtyards or lounges, but he had noticed a pleasant park nearby, and deciding to take only one of his 'assistants' with him, he set off one late afternoon, with just his portable PC and a bottle of drink.
"Come on, Bunny," he said to his newest slave for that is undoubtedly what she was. "You can carry this for me."
Bunny rushed up to him.
"Thank you, Sir. How would you like me to carry it?"
"Oh, just walking normally will be fine," he replied. He'd seen enough examples of how women were made to carry things on this planet like in their mouths while they crawled on all fours, or from clamps on their nipples or labia but he would somehow have found it embarrassing to walk across town with his slave burdened in such a way.
So he strolled out of the Palace and towards the park, with Bunny walking behind him and carrying his computer very carefully in both hands.
The park was quite a hive of activity. Many women were being played with like dogs that is, having things thrown for them to fetch, merely so their male Masters could enjoy watching their naked tits bounce as they ran around, or perhaps just to test their obedience, or to pass the time. He noticed in particular one dog-woman dragging two huge, heavy balls connected by a chain which she held in her teeth-backwards towards her Master, and another, who instead of picking up the little ball that was thrown towards her in her mouth, crouched down to the ground and picked it up with her pussy, then hurried back to her owner where she split her legs, and pushed the ball out again, onto the ground at his feet.
It was all very entertaining, but Luke had a report to write. Some way from anyone else, he found a wooden bench facing a pretty flowerbed, and here he settled down. He set his PC up on his lap, and turned his thoughts to work, but suddenly realized Bunny was still standing in front of him, looking uncertain. She obviously needed some sort of instruction, and he still wasn't really used to giving them.
What could she do, he wondered. Lie across his lap, her back forming a work table? Stand behind him using her breasts as a cushion for his head? Crouch at his feet motionless, in case he should want to use her as a footstool? Yes, any of these things she would do without question and much more. Doubtless she would suck him off if he asked her, or deliberately exhaust herself by running round and round the flowerbed, just to amuse him, or drape herself over the back of the bench and beg him to whip her with his belt, when he wanted a break from working.
She looked so pretty, though, and so young. He felt momentarily sorry for her.
"Wouldn't you like to just go for a little wander on your own? Find yourself an ice-cream or something?"
Bunny's eyes widened, and she began to tremble. A moment later, Luke's whole perspective was shaken, as Bunny burst into tears and fell to his feet with an impassioned plea somewhat different to the normal one.
"Mr. Blackmoor, please help us! You're our only chance!"
"There, there." Luke reacted automatically, putting the PC to one side and lifting Bunny up so he could see her distraught face. "Don't cry. Come and sit beside me and tell me all about it."
But Bunny shook her head and looked around furtively.
"Oh, no, I can't sit down. They might be watching!"
"Surely no-one can see us," said Luke. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, Sir," Bunny went on. "You don't know! I've been so hoping for a moment alone with you, outdoors somewhere! You're always in the Palace or with the President's Aide. They're watching you so closely, and everywhere is bugged!"
"Sit on the grass then. You don't have to kneel."
Bunny positioned herself more comfortably and sniffed.
"Thank you, Sir."
"Now. Tell me what you want to tell me."
"I will, Sir, now I've started, but I must hurry, before they come! You can't imagine how we've hoped for an outworld visitor how long we've waited! You must get off this planet and tell people what's happening. You must help us!"
Luke could guess what was coming, and was honest enough to admit to himself that a large part of him didn't want to hear it.
"You're going to tell me you women aren't really doing all these things willingly."
Bunny nodded, shyly. "We're trained to act willing, and brainwashed to think everything's alright. But deep down we want to be free! It's complicated you see, because it's true that being servile is in our nature, and in our culture. But it's gone too far. It used to be just part of our lives, but now it's everything. We're being exploited. The things we have to suffer, you wouldn't believe it! We have to pretend to go to Punishment Chambers and Lesson Pits willingly, but really we dread it all!
There's so much I could tell you about, I don't know where to start! The female fittings you've been told they don't mind it, I know, that they get a drug to help them. But it's not true! There is such a drug, but if anyone asks for it they get whipped. Oh dear, Sir! Why do you think you haven't been outside this city? The planet is covered with massive training camps for the young women and labor centers where the older women are put to work once they're not pretty enough to serve directly. They think they have us under control, but there is a resistance movement growing. And you're our only chance to change things. We've been dreaming about your coming, and how you'll help us live normal lives again!"
Bunny took a deep breath and continued hurriedly with her saga.
"You see, the men have an overall plan. They basically want women to take over anything resembling work, so they themselves can spend their time purely on leisure. It's still a transition period. Although they have every possible assistance from women, of course many men still have to work to keep all the planet's basic production and trade going. But more and more, women are being trained for all levels of job. That's why you see some women in suits, hurrying to meetings with briefcases. They can have the most difficult executive jobs to do, but still be first and foremost sexual slaves.
You've seen what it's like, women having to expose themselves to men all the time. Imagine how difficult it is being a female executive having to do a demanding, responsible job, yet still being the sexual plaything of the men around you! Imagine having to give a presentation just after your junior colleague has told you to tit-shake until further notice! You can ask him to provide you with sales forecasts, but he can ask you to suck his cock as he does them!
All over this planet there are women struggling round office corridors in bondage, and still being expected to fulfill a senior role. Some
IDS companies have dress and bondage policies, like women always having to wear a leg spreader, for example. Imaging being a secretary being sent for coffee with an iron bar holding your legs three feet apart never mind a manager trying to chair a meeting or conduct a business discussion! And no allowance is made for any time spent supplying sexual services. If you keep getting distracted during the day by men asking you to bend over for a fucking or lick their boots clean, you have to work all night to catch up on your paperwork!
Women are being given all the most difficult jobs. Most sales reps are women now. Just think what it's like having to do door to door, trying to sell some product, yet getting your tits out and having to drop to the floor every time a guy opens the door! Of course you're much more likely to just get used sexually and thrown out, than actually sell anything, but you still have to make your quota, so you're forced to make more and more calls. I've seen training videos on how to carry on making your pitch while being fucked, or worse. Invite your potential customer to leaf through a catalogue while you suck him off! Or continue to show him samples from your briefcase while you're bent over a chair getting a ramming from behind or a whipping! I know what it's like having to concentrate on a normal job while being ravished at the same time. I worked in a big company's typing pool for a year. It was a huge room with rows and rows of desks and PCs at which girls did typing for twelve hour shifts. Instead of sitting at chairs, we were all draped over a rail which ran along each row of desks. You bend over it at crotch level the desk and the PC are quite low so you're at quite an angle, and your ass's up in the air. Your legs are kept open with a leg spreader, and your tits hang down in front of you.
You have to work away really hard copy typing, and concentrating on difficult word processing tasks all under phenomenal time pressure, of course with your back end completely exposed and available for any man in the company to come down and fuck you while you work! It can be so difficult when someone's really slamming into you and reaching forward to grab your tits, while you're trying desperately to finish some complicated tables, needed urgently for a presentation! in
You're not allowed to eat or drink on your shift, and you're only allowed to relieve yourself once when some slaves come round and hold a bucket under you for a few minutes. Everyone works away in silence you're not allowed to chat and any girl who makes any sort of comment or noise gets gagged for the remainder of her shift. The awful male supervisor paces up and down the rows of upturned bottoms looking out for anyone who's slacking in their work, and laying a cruel whip across as many buttocks as he can find an excuse to punish. Oh, the awful sting of his whip, as he stands behind you, telling you to type faster, faster, when you've been typing for hours and hours, and feel like you can't go on a moment longer!
Before this I spent nearly two years as a waitress in this awful restaurant. We all had to wear the most ridiculously tight rubber skirts that went right down to our ankles and meant that we were effectively hobbled we could only take the tiniest little steps which meant that, particularly as we were always so very busy, we were always running round rushing back and forth to the kitchen virtually on tip toe because of our massive heels. Oh, my feet alone used to hurt so much, I thought I couldn't bear it! Ten hour shifts, non stop, in heels like that! No man would ever do that! No man could ever understand the pain of it!
The bums were cut out of these skirts, though, so our bottoms were bare, and everywhere we went, we got spanked and pinched and prodded both by the customers and the management. The manager himself actually used to walk around with this huge paddle, and every so often, when we were standing at a table trying to take an order, for example, he would come along behind us and wallop us unexpectedly across the ass, so hard that we'd fall forward into some customer's lap. Alternatively, he'd shout out for us to touch our toes first, and just give us this hugely painful stroke on our poor bums, then maybe tell us to keep standing as we were for a while, so a particular table could get a good view of a newly reddened posterior. I even remember that he'd paddle us deliberately while we were carrying something, to make us drop it and then have to clear it up. The customers would find it so funny when one of us would suddenly go sprawling along the corridor, getting custard or trifle everywhere! Every time someone got a paddling or fell over, people would clap and a big cheer would go up!
Our tits were on show, of course, and the menu was printed on our chests, just above them, so after we'd showed someone to their place we had to lean right forward while they read the selection and played with our tits in the process. We weren't allowed to write anything down we had to memorize everything, which meant there was more chance of us making mistakes which we could be punished for and to make things even more difficult, our elbows were chained to our waists, so that we couldn't move our arms freely, and had to reach for things by leaning forward and getting into funny positions. We also had heavy iron bands round our wrists that made carrying even the lightest object a bit of a struggle.
It was madness! The atmosphere was one big frenzy as rubber skirted, topless girls rushed about, getting constantly teased and fondled and even fucked at the tables, and of course periodically being forced under the tables to do some sucking, or just grabbed by the head and made to bend over and reach a stiff cock in someone's lap all this completely encouraged by the management, of course but still actually having to do the job of waitressing. Bringing out piles of hot food, and going to the bar for drinks, and getting people's bills ready, and helping them into their coats, and finding out what the soup was, and bringing them extra napkins, and trying to resolve deliberate complaints.
The chef was a really cruel character, and had fixed up a sort of obstacle course for us to go through every time we dropped something off in the kitchens. In between depositing plates for washing up done manually, by more rubber clad women, of course and picking up the next course, we would have to get down on all fours and crawl through this tiny tunnel, struggle up and down a little set of steps (very difficult in the tight skirts!), and stick our rear ends into this machine which gave us an automatic caning on the ass. All this happened so quickly, that the customers probably never guessed what we had to do between going in through one door and coming out the other, although they might have wondered why we always arrived at their tables so exhausted.
But absolutely the worst thing was this new idea the manager had for keeping us even busier, and punishing us even more during the course of our duties. We all had a number painted onto our foreheads, and every so often, our number would be called out, just like we were boats being called in from a lake, or something! When we heard our number, we had to rush, double quick, and leaving whatever we'd been doing, over to a corner of the restaurant, and hoist our tits up onto two little platforms on a device high up on this one wall. Then this sort of hood would come down automatically and cover our heads and tits from sight. The customers would only see the rest of our bodies, stretched and straining, and perhaps jerking a little, but what was actually going on behind the screen was that our tits were being whipped two strokes each with a cruel, fine crop by this huge brute of a man who had been employed specially for the purpose. The reason our heads were covered was so that the customers wouldn't hear us scream, because this tit whipping was always so painful.
Once or twice an hour but always unpredictably our numbers would be called and we'd have to tear over to the corner, hoist up our tits, feel them squashed by cruel clamps and then get heavily whipped by an expert tit whipper, then just a few seconds later hurry back to whatever we'd been doing, like serving tables, and carry on where we'd left off!
It was all so terrible and difficult. There was never a day off, and hardly a time when the restaurant wasn't absolutely packed. Only once a week it opened late to allow time for staff training, which consisted of practicing particular maneuvers like getting finger fucked without dropping a tray of six bowls of soup, or removing the bone from a flat fish at the same time as sucking a cock and getting caned on the ass. And of course after it closed, we had to clean everything up, and lay the tables for the next day. I used to particularly hate cleaning the carpet with a dustpan and brush. The skirts were so stiff and tight you couldn't really kneel down, so you had to either bend over completely from the waist, or lie down and do it by crawling along on your elbows.
Oh, Sir, I didn't mean to just go on about myself, though. Kitty and Pussy, for example, have done all sorts of awful jobs, too. Kitty used to work on a 24 hour switchboard they never had time set aside to sleep, but just had to take naps when they could, which were always interrupted by phones ringing. And because of the convenient location of the phone room in this huge building, they were constantly being visited for a quick fuck. She would be handling two or three inquiries at a time as well as handling two or three cocks at the same time! One guy pushing her against the desk and threatening to split her in two with a huge erection, for example, while another two waited impatiently, trying to force themselves into her mouth whenever there was a break in the conversation. Apparently the sexual attention they got in there was virtually endless. Even used to get fucked as they slept, curled up on the floor under their desks!
And Pussy was an Air Hostess on long haul flights. Well you can imagine the service she was expected to offer with a smile! But the worst part was when she was on toilet duty. I can hardly bring myself to say it, Sir, but, well, there were no toilets on this plane! If someone needed to relieve themselves, they called for a toilet slave who would crawl between their legs, and swallow down all the piss! There was only one toilet slave per twenty passengers! And remember, Sir, these were long haul flights! Oh, dear!"
Now throughout all this, Luke had been struggling against the fact that Bunny's account was turning him on. Her tale was cut short at this point, though, because suddenly, she caught sight of someone coming towards them, and exclaimed guiltily.
It was Jed, striding across the grass with a fixed smile.
How interesting, Luke thought. The thing about surveillance must be true.
"Please, please don't tell on me!" Bunny begged Luke, before throwing herself into a more servile position, and wiping her tears on his feet.
Keeping his thoughts to himself, Luke smiled at Jed as he approached.
"Hello. I thought I'd do some work outdoors today. How did you find me?"
"Oh, I saw you heading this way, and thought I'd get some air myself," Jed replied, nonchalantly. "A beautiful park, don't you think?"
The ensuing conversation was innocent enough, but Luke couldn't avoid noticing that Jed made no move to leave. In the end, they walked back together, without Luke having a single moment more alone with Bunny.
Oh dear, he thought to himself that evening, watching Bunny, silent once more, kneel down in a corner and wipe the mud off his boots with her tits, before polishing them, extensively and diligently, with her tongue. This job is getting a bit more complicated than I'd like.
* * *
BEHIND THE SCENES
In his private Palace suite, Jed lay naked on black satin sheets, his face contorted into an expression of extreme rapture.
A woman was sucking his cock beautifully. Her tongue caressed him expertly, and he gently thrust himself upwards into her throat, again and again. No other part of the woman was touching him only her soft warm mouth. The rest of her was deliciously exposed to his gaze-bulging tits pointing in his direction, shaven fanny clearly visible.
How was this achieved? Simple. She was tied up in a position much favored by Jed upside down, dangling from a frame above his bed, positioned so that her head hung just above his cock. Her arms were out of sight strapped tightly behind her back and she was dangling by her ankles, only not held close together, but some way apart, so her legs were pulled wide and her cunt vulnerably exposed. A tight punishment belt lined with spikes cut into her waist, and her thighs were encircled with straps containing lead weights to add to the strain on her tormented legs. Her breasts had wire cable pulled tight around their bases, and cruel nipple clamps digging into the flesh at their peaks. To avoid hair falling downwards and tickling him, Jed had her head encased in a thick rubber hood. This covered her eyes completely, but her ears only partly, so she could hear any instructions Jed cared to give her.
He gave her one now. "Keep that tongue moving, you bitch, or I'll whip your fanny raw."
In fact, her fanny was already a little raw. He had been whipping it with the cat-o-nine-tails he held in his hand for the last half hour or so, which is about how long she had been pleasuring him since he woke up.
Jed always slept with a woman suspended just above his cock like this. He wasn't that keen on having women next to him when he slept, but liked to have a mouth always available and very close at hand. He would often wake in the night and thrust himself into that warm receptacle 'til he came.
Sometimes, half asleep, he would raise his ass up to the waiting head for a change, so that the warm, wet tongue could do its work on his balls and arsehole instead.
This particular woman had been hanging in position since early the previous afternoon. He rather lost track of when they were changed. Just so long as there was always one there at bed time, he didn't concern himself with the details of how long they had to suffer there in his absence.
Jed whipped the suspended girl's pussy and enjoyed her flinch. "Come on, suck harder."
Then he whipped her again, so hard that her mouth was torn away from him and she swayed to and fro, frantically trying to get her mouth back round his cock.
After a while, Jed pressed a button by his bedside, and watched as the whole apparatus by which his amusement was suspended rotated 180 degrees, presenting to him, instead of her tits, a pair of pert buttocks. He whipped these a few times before reaching out to press another button. This kept the suspension frame slowly rotating, which, since the girl's mouth remained clasped around his cock, produced a delightfully arousing corkscrew effect.
"Suck, suck hard!" he demanded, slowly increasing the speed of rotation 'til the bound girl was whizzing round and his cock would take no more. He exploded into the busy mouth, and brought his bondage toy to a stop, tits facing him again. He watched her hang there for a moment, before drifting off into a post-orgasmic doze.
Dangling above his spent member, the woman trembled and concentrated on trying not to voice her pain, which would only bring her more punishment.
Jed was woken by the phone ringing. He reached out for it sleepily. "Hello?"
"Good morning." It was the President. "Sleep well."
"Oh, very. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I've got rather a busy schedule today, and I'd quite like to, um, relax tonight. I wondered if you could if you weren't too busy well, prepare a girl for me again."
Jed smiled. "Of course, my pleasure. Anything special?"
"Just like last time is fine."
"Okay."
"Maybe you could start her off early, you know?"
"Straight away! That'll be " he glanced at a clock " about ten hours 'til you're ready for her."
"Lovely! Oh, and by the way."
"Yes?"
"How's it going with our visitor?"
"Everything's under control, Mr. President. There's no need to worry."
"Good. You know I'm relying on you."
"Thank you. Everything's fine."
"While I think of it has he discovered the secret fittings in his room yet?"
"I don't think so. He hasn't said anything, and I've scanned through most of the films."
"Something like the toilet cistern I can understand, but you'd have thought he'd at least have detected the woman in his mattress by now!"
"I'm sure it doesn't even cross his mind."
The President chuckled. "Most amusing, I have to say. Well, carry on with the good work."
Jed rang off and swung himself out of bed. He allowed himself half an hour to be washed, dressed, fed and pampered by a bevy of beautiful maidens, then made a phone call to an office in the Palace.
"I need a girl to prepare for the President. Choose the prettiest you've got, and I suppose she'd better be relatively fresh. Not one that's straight off fittings duty I'm going to need her to be able to move! Training Room I please, ten minutes."
He set off purposefully through the Palace corridors, and took an unobtrusive looking lift down to the bowels of the building. Here a voice command allowed him into a large, well equipped room, where he busied himself preparing some equipment.
A few moments later, the door buzzed, and a guard pushed a naked young woman into the room. Jed was pleased to see that she was particularly stunning. Bushy red hair, beautiful green eyes, and big firm tits with huge nipples. She threw herself hurriedly at Jed's feet, and stayed there, awaiting instruction.
Jed ran a foot down the small of her back.
"You're honored, slut," he said. "The President's going to fuck you tonight."
Was that a tremor he saw running down the prostrate spine? "Have you ever been fucked by the President before."
"No, Master."
"I suppose you've heard how he-likes his women, though."
"Yes, Master."
"So you're very privileged, aren't you?" Again the timid assent.
Suddenly, Jed tossed the woman onto her back with his foot, and knelt down astride her waist, leaning forward to stroke her luscious hair and look into her frightened eyes.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The girl was very surprised. No-one had used or asked for her name in years.
"Linetta, Sir."
"Linetta little bird how pretty! Well," Jed felt a huge rush of sadistic pleasure as he squeezed one of her tits roughly. "I'm going to enjoy making you sing!"
He started by lashing her wrists together with rope, throwing the rope over a hook against a thick, floor to ceiling pillar, and hoisting her up against it with her arms stretched taught above her head and her tits pressed up against the cold metal. Then he pulled her ankles around to the other side of the pillar and tied them together, so that she was straddling it forced to hug it with her legs like some huge phallus-completely clear of the floor, strung up on the hook like a carcass. He looped some more rope around her waist, pulling her ultra tight against the post, so her pussy and tits were pressed even closer to it, and she could hardly wriggle at all.
Keen to get started in a nice primitive, straightforward way, he grabbed the first whip which came to hand a three foot cat-of-about-twelve-tails and proceeded to whip Linetta's back, buttocks, arms and legs non stop for the better part of half an hour. Her screams aroused him so much, he was soon rock hard and ready for relief, but he deliberately restrained himself. After all, there were several hours of this to go.
After a little break he undid her ankles and the rope at her waist, swung her round 180 degrees, and then tied her ankles back behind the pillar again. This was a much more painful and strenuous position, and had the added advantage that he could see her face while he whipped her. Another thirty minutes and her exposed tits and belly and the fronts of her arms and thighs were as striped and red as the rest of her.
Next he amused himself with practicing his aim with a crop on her nipples. This was obviously excruciatingly painful, even when he missed the bulls eyes.
"You do squeal," he admonished her after about twenty strokes.
"We're only just beginning, you know!"
Deciding that she needed some nice, deep weals on her, he chose a thin cane next and walloped the tops of her tits, her stomach and her thighs with it, pleased to see a pattern start to spring up.
After this, Jed let the girl free and spent an hour or so doing things like having her crawl round the floor directed by a dildo up her cunt which was on the end of a long pole (Jed often 'walked' slaves in public in this way), and generally testing her obedience and experimenting with the most humiliating positions he could think of.
Then he threw her down onto a specially designed mat of coarse bristles which dug into her back but didn't get in his way, and fucked her in the crudest, hardest way he could.
"Now," he said, when he'd recovered. "I'm feeling a bit peckish, so I think I'll go and have a nice long lunch somewhere. Hmm. What shall we have you doing while I'm away?"
The room in which Jed was occupied was packed with equipment and suitable clothing, and after a little nosing around, Jed came up with the following scenario.
Linetta was instructed to don a black, one piece cat suit made of thick rubber. It was so tight, it got pulled over her curves with some difficulty and she started sweating heavily underneath it almost as soon as she'd put it on.
It included gloves and built in high heels, but had an entertaining hole over the buttocks and cunt which allowed for bare skin punishment and access to the orifices.
A crushing rubber hood was then pulled over her head and the integral inflatable rubber gag inflated to maximum. Blind, deaf and very hot, she was led up to the piece of equipment with which she would become intimately acquainted over the next few hours.
It was a mini escalator, running downwards. A bit more difficult than a normal treadmill, it meant whoever was attached to it had to climb endlessly up foot high stairs, at whatever speed the contraption happened to be set at.
A strategically positioned hook directly above the moving stairway served as an anchor point for Linetta's shackled wrists. A heavy metal band around her waist carried four lengths of chain which were attached to points in the floor and kept her in place.
An essential final touch was an automatic caning device which Jed wheeled over and fixed in place. This would apply a steady stream of inescapable strokes on the mounds of buttock flesh protruding from the tight rubber costume and help ensure that those stairs kept being climbed.
With Linetta positioned nicely on the bottom step, Jed turned the escalator on and watched approvingly as rubber clad legs began to work and stretch and get some delightfully unwanted exercise. The taut chains made it impossible for her to do anything other than keep climbing. If she faltered or tripped she bashed her shins painfully on the edges of the steps. She could get a few moments of relief by lifting her legs and hanging by her wrists from the hook, but this also was painful, and it didn't stop the endless mechanical caning which tormented her whatever she tried to do.
Jed set the escalator on quite a fast speed to begin with, enjoying the idea of getting her really working hard and sweating profusely under the thick rubber. Before leaving however, he turned it down so she was only walking and not running up the stairs even so it was a brisk pace, something like that of a lively military march, and would certainly get her nice and exhausted, without totally doing her in.
"Bye for now," he said as he left. "I shall think of you struggling down here on your own, as I enjoy a nice relaxed drink and a meal. Have fun!"
Imagine what it was like for poor Linetta as the minutes crept slowly by, and she suffered endlessly in her hot, sweaty suit, completely blinded, mouth straining with rubber gag, totally at the mercy of the heartless cane and punishing staircase. Her thighs soon ached horribly, and her ass already caned so hard previously by Jed in person, and then squashed down onto those cruel bristles when he'd fucked her-was burning like it had never burned before.
On and on she climbed in her high heels, arms above her head, huge tits squashed into tight rubber moulds. For two and a half hours she struggled, with no one watching her, but two men Jed over a deliberately prolonged lunch, and the President in a meeting, unaware of the details, but well aware of the various possibilities having her suffering very much on their minds!
The afternoon proved even more testing. Jed had a field day, trying a variety of bondage positions and methods of punishment, and particularly concentrating on keeping Linetta moving getting her so exhausted that she was virtually fainting, and then making her move some more.
He made a point of testing her user-friendliness as he went along. "Does this hurt."
"Aaargh! Yes, Master."
"Do you want another one."
"Um yes, Master."
"That's right, you do. Here you are then."
"Ooooww! Thank you, Master."
"Is it a privilege to suffer for the President."
"Yes, Master."
"If I asked you to go through all this again tomorrow, would you do it."
"Y yes, Master."
"Of course you would. This is the very reason for your existence, isn't it? You can't think of a single thing you'd rather be doing today isn't that a fact?"
"Yes, Master."
"Why are you looking so grumpy? You should be joyful!"
"Yes, Master! I'm sorry, Master."
"Now beg me to fuck your butt."
"Please, Master. Please fuck my butt, Master."
"Well, maybe, I might. Beg harder." m
"Please, Master, I'm begging you to please, please fuck my butt."
"Pardon? Didn't quite catch that."
"Master, please fuck my butt. Please, Master, I'm begging you to fuck my butt!"
"How hard do you want me to fuck it?"
"Oh, please fuck my butt really hard, Master. Please fuck it as hard as you can."
"Well, since you insist, I will. But I think you ought to pay for the honor first. I think you ought to suffer a little in exchange for the privilege. Bring me that whip in your teeth, please. Good. Now insist that I whip you before your bumhole gets the attention it craves so much."
"M Master, please whip me before my bumhole gets the attention it craves. Please make me pay for it, Master."
"Good, good. But where's your pleasure, my girl? I want to see ecstatic happiness on your face and I shouldn't have to keep reminding you."
"Oh, Master, I am happy to serve you! Please whip me as hard as you like, whenever you like! Please fuck my butt just as hard as you can! Please, please, Master, I'll be so happy if you abuse me."
"Better. Don't you ever forget how happy you are! Now lie down and show me your cunt. I'll give you a few hundred strokes on it that should make you really grateful and then we'll see how welcoming that tight little hole of yours is, eh?"
Eventually, when virtually a whole day of exertion and punishment and sexual use had passed, Jed called a halt, and sat down on a chair to rest. He felt exhausted himself from all the whipping and caning and fucking he'd done!
Glancing at his watch, he picked up a phone and called the President's private suite.
"Ready if you are," he said, and, nodding, dropped the phone again. He looked at the Linetta, who was at that moment lying naked on the floor after a final hour or so of whip driven exercises such as press ups, sit ups and high kicks.
"Time to go."
Grabbing her by an ankle, he proceeded to drag her across the floor towards the door. She protested a little as her many welts and bruises rubbed and bounced painfully on the cold flooring.
"Shut up," Jed snapped, though in reality he didn't mind at all if she was vocal. It added to the overall effect.
Along a corridor, up in the lift, along another corridor, up a few steps, and across a hallway, he dragged her, battered and naked, as a caveman might have dragged a dead animal home across the plains. He knocked on the President's door, entered, and dragged Linetta into the great man's presence, depositing her at his feet with a flourish.
They stood and looked down on her together. There was hardly an inch of her body that was unmarked what had started off lily white was now beautifully decorated with shades of red, blue and purple. She was dripping with sweat, mixing just a little, here and there, with blood from a particularly deep cut. Her hair was wet and disheveled, her face a tear smeared mess. She was panting and sobbing totally exhausted, totally broken in body and spirit.
"Very nice," the President commented eventually. "Thank you, Jed."
Noting the thickness in his superior's voice, Jed prepared to withdraw quickly. The President had been waiting all day for this, and was no doubt anxious to start.
"Just one question," the President asked, as Jed headed for the door. "Have you had her yourself?"
The first time the President had asked him this, Jed had been anxious about making the wrong response, but now he knew he had no need to worry.
"Oh yes," he replied. "Several times."
A smile grew on the President's face, and the last thing Jed saw as he left the room was a trouser belt buckle being purposefully undone.
* * *
TIME TO GO HOME
It was the day before Luke was due to leave Hedonia. He had been up half the night, pacing and thinking, and morning found him still in turmoil, still undecided.
The urge to stay on Hedonia was so all-consuming, he found it almost impossible to resist. He had not dared say anything about his feelings to Jed, the President, or anyone else, but today, the final, formal meeting between himself and his hosts was due, and he knew that if he was going to raise the matter with them, it had to be now. Tomorrow, the ship would come for him and it would be too late. It was decision time.
Never had Luke experienced such a dreadful internal battle. It was head versus cock; do your duty versus give in to lust and pleasure. He wanted to stay SO MUCH!! And yet deep down he knew it was impossible. He couldn't risk it. He couldn't throw everything away.
Throwing himself on his disheveled bed, the United Planets Emissary and Ambassador actually wept with confusion and frustration.
When the time came for his meeting, he pulled himself together, washed and dressed in his most formal clothes, and headed for the conference room in a black mood of despair and resignation. He would return to his j ob and report everything he had experienced everything, including the impassioned plea from Bunny and leave someone else to worry about what to do. Yes, he would return to his home and his desk, and try his best to come to terms with life without user-friendly women. He cursed the day he had set foot on this planet! It was like being shown paradise and then being turned away.
The President and Jed rose to greet him from behind a broad conference table, both looking sombre.
There was not a single female fitting or woman of any description in the room with them, a fact which brought a lump to Luke's throat. It's over, he thought, and for a moment was tempted again to throw himself on the mercy of these two men and beg to stay. But the air of formality made him think of his duty to his own superiors, and he knew the plea would never be made.
There was a moment of hesitant silence before Jed made an effort to smile at Luke.
"You look rough this morning," he commented. "It must be a difficult time for you."
Luke looked up without speaking, and wondered if Jed guessed something of his personal dilemma.
"There's something the President wants to say to you," Jed went on, when Luke continued to say nothing. "I, um, I do hope you won't take it too badly."
The President cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke, his tone friendly but troubled.
"Luke, my friend, you've been the perfect visitor. We've enjoyed having you here so much; the whole exercise has gone even better than we'd hoped. I personally have a great respect for you, and you must believe me when I say that I have no wish to hurt you, and very much regret the decision we have been forced to make."
Luke was listening attentively now, suddenly apprehensive.
"I'm afraid to say," the President continued, after taking a deep breath, "that we cannot allow you to go home, or in fact to leave this planet. You see, we haven't been entirely honest with you. Your visit was a bit of an experiment on our part; we had a hidden agenda."
The President and Jed were watching Luke closely, but they couldn't guess at his emotions. "We cannot allow you to leave this planet!" he was hearing, over and over, in his head. So much for dilemma! So much for decisions! He was staying after all! If he hadn't been so ecstatically happy, he would have laughed at the irony of it.
And then he caught the President's eye, and felt apprehensive again. What if they meant to ? No, he couldn't believe they would kill him.
"So what are you going to do with me?" he asked tensely.
"Oh, good heavens, we're not going to harm you! You can spend the rest of your life here in luxury and comfort. Anything you wish for will be yours. Only you can't leave, or have any contact with the outside world. We'll concoct a cover story to ensure no-one will come looking for you. You'll have to rethink your whole future, though."
Luke kept his expression blank.
"What about the hidden agenda? What was it?"
The President sighed, and turned to Jed. "Show him the tape."
Jed pressed some buttons and a screen slid into view on one wall of the room. A moment later he was watching himself fucking Kitty and Pussy in what he'd thought of as his private bedroom. The film slipped into fast forward, and a succession of highly personal images were displayed for all to see. Including the times he'd indulged in not only fucking, but tormenting and punishing a little, the various women on offer.
"It must have occurred to you that you were being watched," said Jed. "Your reactions were vital to us; the whole future of the planet depended on them!"
Luke shook his head, stunned. "But all that was sorted out. It didn't matter what I did privately."
"Not what you did, no. But what you thought and what you said about everything you'd seen. You were a sort of test case the average outworlder. Your impressions and conclusions could be considered as indicative of what millions of others would think about our way of life and thus of whether Hedonia could ever be accepted into the intergalactic
IS community. We've read all your reports, and been impressed by your impartial coverage but we sensed you had doubts, and we had to be sure."
"I don't understand."
Another familiar image came into view. It was a relative close up of himself sitting on a park bench, with Bunny kneeling at his feet and crying, and telling him all about how horrible life on Hedonia really was for women.
Luke's jaw dropped. "So that episode was a test?"
"I'm afraid so," the President answered him. "We told her exactly what to say to you, and it seems she was convincing. But the whole encounter was a set up. None of what she said was true."
"If you'd mentioned it to us, it would be different," Jed explained. "But, since you didn't, we couldn't be sure whether or not you'd believed her, or what you planned to do when you returned to your world."
"You do understand," the President added, quite plaintively. "You pose too much of a risk to our way of life here. We can't let you go, so long as there's any doubt in your mind as to which of the two explanations you've heard about our way of life ours or Bunny's is the correct one."
Luke sat in silence, trying to think.
Hedonia was apparently eager to join the Council of United Planets so the message they wanted him to take back was that their culture was humane and unflawed. They needed their way of life to be accepted, and not questioned, so that they could enter into trade with their neighbors without fear of recrimination or restriction.
So why deliberately 'test' him with a situation that sowed doubts in his mind, and therefore led to his being detained? It didn't make sense. It only made sense if Bunny had been telling the truth, and Hedonia really had something to hide.
He thought about all the compliant women he'd fucked in the last month. And the fear on Bunny's face, and the way he'd been manipulated by these two men.
"So which is the correct interpretation of events?" he asked eventually.
Jed turned his eyes away from Luke's gaze. "I think you know the answer to that question," he said poignantly, "deep down."
