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As he led his troublesome acquisition back to the ship, Alrik pondered what do to with it. Yes, it was in someways easier to think of the slave as an it. It was property. Property has no business hurting its owner. He should stick ginger dildos in it and whip and beat its most sensitive areas. That would teach it its place. There are no ethical qualms when dealing with its. It doesn't have rights. It exists merely to please him, and it willfully malfunctioned. Property is repaired or thrown out when it malfunctions. How do you repair a slave? Torture it into submission.
And yet, he didn't want a relationship with an it. Sure, he had justified its expense and the basis and it could do wonders in his engine room. No relationship needed there. But he also wanted a she, a she who could be his intellectual equal, a she who was a challenge to woo, a she with a mind of her own, and that gorgeous little body.
She was smart, smart enough to be a better engineer than the one he had. She had resisted the guards when they had hurt her. She might too easy to woo; she seemed more pleased with being allowed to wear clothes than any free woman would be. (A free woman would take it for granted.) On the other hand, she might be impossible. How could he tell whether or not what he was doing was working if she had to go off and fake it?
Why did she try to fake it? Of all the blasted things she could do to spoil his dreams of them making love together! Just like any common little trix. But what made her turn submissive all the sudden? She was an old slave; if she were easy to break, she'd have been broke when he first saw her on the auction block. Or perhaps she did this to test every new master? Try being feisty for awhile to see how much she could get away with, and then become submissive until she's sold again? But why do that? For the most part, she'd only get herself stuck with crueler masters who enjoyed torturing the feisty ones. Perhaps she was an honest-to-god masochist. Not the fake sort who merely pretended to be masochist to satiate a master's sadism, but the real sort, who might misbehave in the hopes of being punished more severely?
No, that couldn't be it. Her escape attempt had seemed honest enough. It might have worked, if she had waited longer. A real masochist wouldn't go so far as to hit her master over the head to incite a response. More likely, a real masochist would try to goad him into punishing her verbally.
He had told her if she didn't want to be sold, he expected her to show him just how much she wanted to be his slave. Could that be it? Could she be afraid of being sold? What did she fear from another master that she did not fear from him? Sure, in the beginning, he had meant to treat her gently, but surely she must know that hitting him on the head had changed that?
Or perhaps this was just a temporary scheme. Perhaps she was tired, and only meant to play the submissive role long enough to regain her strength to resist.
Arriving at his ship, Alrik saw Chantal, who had no doubt returned from drinking and gambling on the surface to find the message he had left her that she was being replaced by a new engineer.
"Let me guess, you're firing me so you can hire a cheaper engineer, just so you can afford your own little dawlie. Am I right?"
"Have you decided where you want to be dropped off, Chantal?"
"Well, I hope the orgasms she gives you are worth it when you are drifting out in space, waiting to die, because your cheap engineer doesn't know how to get you going again?"
"Actually, this new engineer fixed our engine."
"Hah, any amateur with half a brain can replace an engine!"
"You don't understand. The new engineer didn't replace the Prometheus 2325. The new engineer repaired it, and saved me nearly 5 million drackas."
"What? That's impossible...."
"You know, Chantal, just because you can't do it doesn't mean it isn't possible."
"You don't understand. The Prometheus Company keeps the details of their wiring a secret. Sure, you might be able to tell something is wrong with this piece or that piece, but unless you know how to properly wire in the replacement piece, you just have to replace the whole thing."
"Well, fortunately, I have an engineer who does knows how to do that."
"But only one of the highest level engineers at Prometheus could do such a thing! And they wouldn't be permitted... hey! If one of Prometheus's engineers broke corporate confidentiality, Prometheus is sure to be offering a bounty. Plus, other engine companies would be sure to offer a reward to anyone who handed a defector over to them. We could collect from the highest bidder!"
"Unless the Prometheus Company orders slaves to design their engines engines, I don't think anyone broke corporate confidentiality."
"What... her!?"
"Yes, her."
"You're replacing me with a tratsch! Why, how dare you?! I, a graduate of Vega University, versus her, a disgusting little trix, who has no doubt had the pleasure to be fucked by millions of penises before yours... and you would pick her!
"I would pick higher quality work for cheaper, yes."
"I... I demand you take me back to Vega at once!"
"Yes, princess."
"Any free woman would be a princess compared to her."
"Yes, but unlike a princess, a dawlie doesn't try to boss me around. Instead, I get to boss her around."
"You, or whomever is holding her leash at the moment."
"Isn't that right, my sweet little dawlie?"
The slave stared blankly, as if she hadn't heard.
"Oh yes, she's perfectly obedient," said Chantal, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.
Well, Alrik thought, the whole submissiveness act must have been temporary. Still, if she was going to be defiant, couldn't she do it privately? He reached around her waist, and his right hand felt its way underneath her pants to her crotch. Her body tensed but she made only a feeble attempt to move away. Using his left arm, he pulled her closing to him, so her back was firmly pressed against his chest. Finding her clit, he pinched it cruelly. Her body jerked, and for a moment it seemed she might have fallen if he had not held her up. Then she rose up on her tip-toes, as if she hoped that would bring her clit out of reach of his hand. But of course, his hand traveled up with her. He began to pull her clit roughly in different directions, causing her to jerk around even more. Well, her body was certainly beautiful when she was in pain, and the way her body jerked against his certainly felt good. That said, he didn't here so much as a muffled cry through her gag. Chantal seemed to enjoy this spectacle.
He whispered in her ear, "I said, I get to boss you around, don't I, trix?"
She shook her head. In response, Alrik tugged even harder on her clit and inserted a couple fingers into her vagina.
"Do you want to be sold, or do you want to be my little tratsch who does what I tell her to?"
Alrik felt a little wiggle of the slave's hips over his hand, in addition to the jerking. Of course, he should not have asked a yes or no question while she was gagged. It must be that: she was afraid of being sold. No doubt, she was trying to fake it again, wiggling her hips as if she enjoyed having her clit yanked about. She wasn't doing so good a job of it as she had been earlier: the wiggles were interrupted by the jerks.
"Just nod yes if you want to be my little tratsch..." The slave nodded vigorously before Alrik could finish the sentence. Alrik stopped yanking her clit around and loosened his grip on it.
Chantal tilted her head back and burst into laughter. "Well, if you want to torture your woman into agreeing with you all the time, then may the two of you deserve each other! I'm going to Vega to find a real merchant." With that, she spun about and went into the ship, presumably off to her quarters.
Alrik felt the slave's wiggles become more convincing. She seemed to furiously be trying to push her clit and the rest of her cunt onto and all over his hand. Her ass rubbed against his crotch as she did this. If he had believed it was real, he probably would have become aroused. He lifted her up by her crotch. The wiggling became more of a struggle for balance on his hand than anything erotic.
"Keep still, slave."
She gradually relaxed, and he held her so she would not fall. After gently setting her down, he removed his hand from her pants. Rather than taking her to the brig, he took her to his cabin. After firmly deadbolting his cabin door, he pushed her gently onto the bed. He unchained her ankles and wrists, and as he did so, he whispered into her ear.
"Now, I know you don't want to be sold. That's why you've become so cooperative all the sudden, isn't it? Isn't it? You don't need to fake arousal, but I need you to keep still unless I tell you to do something, and quiet unless I ask you a question. Understood? Good."
Leaving the gag in place, Alrik grabbed a short leather whip and a wooden crop from under his bed. Standing up, he pointed at her with the crop. "Now, strip."
The slave began to perform a dance, stripping slowly as she did so. Alrik did not the the styles of slave dancing nor the the meaning of the different moves. Had he known, he would have recognized that her style was a four centuries old version of Argusian slave dance.
Four centuries ago, the Argusians had a powerful empire. Argusian men were never enslaved on Argus, although foreigners might be, and they did purchase slave men from other star systems. The planets around the red giant Argus all had laws that every woman would be enslaved on her 21st birthday and be immediately auctioned, the proceeds going to the male head-of-house of her family. It was illegal for any member of her family more closely related than a third cousin to purchase or own her. Prior to their 21st birthdays, girls were kept hidden from society. It was not considered proper for them to be raised by slaves while still free, so they rarely stayed with their mothers past their first year of life. At the same time, most fathers had little desire to become attached to a girl who would be auctioned soon enough. So, for the most part, the girls of the planets around Argus spent their first years of life with their mothers, their next five with a male nanny, who usually looked after perhaps 10-30 girls. Frequently, the nanny would know two or three languages, so many girls were bilingual or trilingual by the age of six. Upon reaching the age of six, were sent to a boarding school, where they learned about many things, such as reading, writing, calligraphy, languages, poetry, singing, instruments, dancing, sewing, knitting, cooking, drawing, painting, sculpture, pottery, and so forth. In short, from the age of six until 18, they learned many things which would help them please their future masters, but nothing about sex or what was in store for them, for it was illegal to expose any girl under the age of 18 to the dark world of sexual slavery.
From 18 until 21, they were transferred to other boarding schools. Here, they were still not told what was in store for them. However, they were told that one day, they might want to attract a handsome young man. The education changed its tone. While the men's clothing they were taught to sew continued to become more ornate and fashionable as their skill improve, they were taught to make themselves more revealing clothing that accentuated different parts of their bodies. Men's clothing fully covered the everything but the head and hands. Grown women wore skirts or dresses, never pants. The skirts were generally short, leaving most of the legs in full view, or slitted, revealing the legs as the slit flapped open. Women's shirts and dresses, if they had sleeves, had only very short sleeves, never reaching the elbow. Many had only straps, or no straps at all, being held onto the torso merely by wrapping tightly around it. Women's necklines were usually low, and it was not uncommon for anywhere from 2-8 inches of belly to be exposed underneath a woman's shirt. The dancing the girls were taught after they turned 18 was more erotic than what they had been taught before. When they cooked, they cooked two meals: one for their teachers and one for themselves. They were only allowed to taste the meal they cooked for their teachers as required for quality preparation. That meal was to be a balance of deliciousness and nutritiousness, and had to be arranged in a decorative fashion. The meal for themselves was to be plain, cheap, and nutritious, and they were not expected to spend much time preparing it. The girls were taught how to do their hair and apply make-up, how to walk daintily, and so forth. Their studies in the arts otherwise continued as normal, growing in difficulty. For punishment, they suffered nothing worse than a scolding or to be locked in a room by themselves for a few hours, or else to be sent to bed without dinner.
On the eve of a girl's 21st birthday at a birthday at a boarding school, a feast was thrown in her honor. It was one of the few occassions the girls were permitted to dine as their teachers did. The feast would be held in a large ballroom, some distance from the boarding school itself. A variety of men would attend the feast in honor of the girl's birthday. They were told to treat the girl's as free women, which they still were, and to say nothing about the futures of the girls. The men spoke politely to the girls, and generally behaved as perfect gentlemen. The girl who was turning 21 was told that in the morning, she would be able to go home with one man to spend her life with him, and she was encouraged to show off her talents in dancing, singing, playing instruments, and so forth, so that she could convince the man she wanted to take her home. The girl who would soon turn 21 was lead to a nearby room to sleep and dream of whom she should try to persuade the next morning. In the meantime, the rest of the girls would go back to the boarding school, and the men would bid on her. Sometime after midnight, when she had turned 21, the highest bidder would go to abduct her. It was a rude awakening, to be stripped naked for the first time, to be collared and chained for the first time, to be whipped and beaten for the first time, and usually to be raped for the first time. She would still maintain hope of rescue, but sooner or later, when she was taken out into the world, naked or more skimpily dressed than ever before and in chains, she would notice that no one tried to rescue her, and the other women in the world were treated as she now was, and finally, her master would explain to her that all Argusian women were enslaved on their 21st birthdays, and that the money he had paid for her would be split between the male head of her household, perhaps her grandfather, and the boarding school who had arranged the sale.
Thus, four centuries ago, the Argus system became famous for producing some of the finest quality slaves: well educated in reading and writing, typically speaking perhaps 20 languages, skilled in music, dancing, and art. Fresh at 21, they were innocent and almost always virgins. They usually started off feisty and broke quickly. As demand for Argusian slaves increased, many men from other star systems sent off their young girls to the Argusian boarding schools, hoping to enjoy the high payoffs when their girls reached the age of 21. No star system sold more expensive slaves. Frequently, the buyer at her 21st birthday would not rape her, but instead either resell her on a distant planet or else bring her directly to her new master. Even plain looking Argusian women typically sold for 50,000 drackal on her 21st birthday, and if transported to a distant planet for resale while still a virgin, might sell for several million drackal. Sometimes, the slaver taking her to the other planet might be a representative of the boarding school itself, rather than a middle man, in which case, the school and her family enjoyed the full monetary benefits of the foreign sale.
The modern Argus system still had these laws, but the empire had declined, and the teachers were now merely mediocre, and there were fewer boarding schools, which took on only the more beautiful, promising students.
As demand for Argusian slave women increased, schools opened up to take women who were already slaves and teach them Argusian arts. About 400 years ago, Artemis had been sent to one such school. As the school teacher were used to teaching willing students, they lied to the slave woman, just as they lied to the girls. They told them that they might have the chance of winning husbands instead of masters, if only they could persuade a wealthy man interested in a wife instead of a slave to purchase them. They were promised that after some years of schooling, they would be introduced to such men. Artemis was convinced, as all the others were, and had studied hard in the Argusian arts. These boarding schools, which taught grown slaves rather than girls, also taught sex: however, in keeping with their story that they meant to find husbands rather than masters for the women, it was fairly vanilla sex, with no chains, ropes, whips, or other devices used to restrain or punish slaves. They were taught how to have sex the way a free woman would with a man she was passionately in love with. Artemis was a fast learner, when she thought to benefit from it, and graduated in only five years. At the end of that time, she had learned 14 more languages, bringing her total to 49. Her master was disappointed, though, when she proved to be as impossible to break as before her schooling and unwilling to use what she had learned to please him.
Now, as she stood before Alrik, Artemis danced in the Argusian style for the first time in about four centuries. Had he been able to interpret the moves, he would have seen that it was about a harem girl who had displeased her master and was begging that only she and not the other harem girls would be punished for it. It took Artemis much longer to strip while dancing than it would have otherwise, but Alrik did not interfere. When she had finished, Alrik told her to lie on the bed, and chain each of her ankles to the wall on either side, so that her ass was suspended about two feet over the bed. Yes, the room was small enough to make such a thing possible: it was a spaceship cabin, after all. It was perhaps a testament to Artemis's flexibility that she was able to get her left ankle bolted to the wall on her left without much difficulty. Her right leg proved more problematic. She could get her ankle in place, but of couse, there was no way for her to support her weight and reach it at the same time, so Alrik locked it in place. Her legs were at perhaps a 160 degree angle, and her crotch was vulnerable to the ceiling. Alrik gave her a black piece of cloth and told her to blindfold herself. Chaining her wrists, he pulled them over her head, and underneath the mattress, securing them to the bedframe down their, causing her body to stretch so her head and shoulders pressed into the mattress while the rest of her back was slightly suspended.
"Why did you try to escape?" Alrik asked.
"Because I am a foolish girl, my master."
Alrik cracked the whip across her breasts. "By the way, if you scream, you'll be gagged, and your ordeal will be repeated tomorrow night. Now, why did you try to escape?"
"Master, like I said, I am a foolish girl. Sometimes I get these wild ideas about running around without chains, and I really know I shouldn't dream of such things...."
Crack! The whip landed again on her breasts again, this time hitting one of the nipples. The body jerked. "The truth, please."
"Because I am a bad slave who needs to be punished, my master. Please beat me harder, master!"
Winding a slender chain first over, then under, crossed at the back, then between her breasts to draw the previous loops tighter together, Alrik forced the slave's breasts in bondage, causing them to stick out more. Ten more times he cracked his whip over them, the body on the bed convulsing each time, and the red stripes standing out in stark contrast against the pale skin beside them.
"I said, I want the truth. Do you think I do not know you slaves are taught to say such things to appease your masters!? I want to know what you were really thinking."
"I wasn't thinking, my master."
This time, instead of the whip, the crop came down hard on the slave's breasts, ten times upon the left breast and ten times upon the right.
"The truth, I said. Get that through your head, my little tratsch."
"Well, what would you have done if our roles had been reversed!?"
"Keep your voice softer!" Instead of the simple whip or the crop, this time, a knout came down on her breasts. (A knout is a heavier, crueler sort of whip.) The body convulsed even more, but still there was no scream or whimper. "You can speak you mind, here in private, but do it softly, and be quiet when I tell you to. If you shout like that any more, expect a gag and a repeat of your punishment tomorrow night." The knout came down on her breasts again, causing another large convulsion. "And that wasn't an answer!"
"What right have you to enslave me? I want to be free."
Crack! The simple whip was back, bringing with it a small convulsion. "Better, now keep talking."
"Would you have so much courage to whip me were I not chained up?"
Crack! The knout landed on her breasts. "That wasn't on topic. And are you threatening me? I offered to let you buy your freedom. And you would repay me by attacking me and threatening to do so again in the future! Besides, you helped quite a bit in chaining yourself up, you ungrateful little trix. Now explain why you betrayed me after I showed such kindness!" The knout landed again on her breasts.
Lips stained red from blood, as she had been biting her lips to keep from screaming, the slave responded, "Is this what you call kindness?" This time the crop landed on her ass, causing it to bounce up a little, and a wave of tension to pass through her muscles in response to the pain, but she continued, "My freedom is mine by right, and you have no right to sell it to me. It's not as if I haven't already paid for myself five times over, considering how much it would have cost you to replace your engine. If you won't grant me my freedom for that, why should I believe that you ever would?"
There was a silence. Alrik looked down at the woman's crotch, spread wide beneath him. Whatever its last ordeal was, it had healed, and looked perfect now. He began to stroke both her thighs and her belly with both hands, coming nearer and nearer the crotch area. She struggled against her chains, but it did little good. After about five minutes of this stroking, she said, "Please stop touching my thighs and my belly."
"Certainly," said Alrik, and placed his right hand on her crotch. His middle finger pressed against her clitoris, and all his right fingers rubbed gently. His left fingers circled around the lips on either side of her vagina.
She struggled more furiously, still accomplishing little. "Please stop that."
"Certainly," said Alrik. This he stopped rubbing, but proceeded to use two fingers right hand to fuck her. Now her struggles accomplished nothing but to hurt herself more as her movements caused the fingers to jam into her at the wrong angles. Realizing this, she became still.
"Stop, please stop."
Sighing, Alrik walked around beside her, "Well, at least you've started being honest again."
Pulling up the blindfold so she could see, he leaned over her, nearly close enough to kiss. "If I keep you, you'll be paid 5% of net profits for any given mission, provided that from the end of the previous mission until the end of that mission, you cooperate perfectly. No attacking me or anyone else, no trying to run away, no refusing to work, no public defiance, and not too much defiance in private, or else your pay for that mission is forfeit, and I'll increase your debt. And if your work is exceptional, I might raise your pay up to 10% for any given mission.
"Well, 5% of 5 million is 250,000. That should account for a quarter of my debt."
"You wish. Consider keeping the ship in working order a prerequisite for us being able to run missions. And that stunt you pulled earlier is going to cost you. For cracking me over the head, trying to run away, and threatening to enslave me, let's say, an additional 3 1/2 million drakal, in addition to the punishment you're about to receive."
"That's extortion."
"Be grateful I'm considering giving you another chance, tratsch. You're a slave: I don't have to pay you or offer to let you buy your freedom. And you're my slave. My property. My property has no right to attack me, and it's time you learned your place. That's one million for the loss I would have sustained had you succeeded in fleeing. My life is worth at least twice as much as yours, so there's two million for threatening to enslave me, and consider that generous. You attacked me, stripped me, and chained me... that'll cost you half a million. All this brings your total debt to me up to 4 1/2 million drakal."
"Why is your life worth more than mine?"
"Well, I'm a man you see. A man's life is worth more than a woman's. A man is fit for hard work and hard thinking. Most women are good only for art, music, dancing, child-bearing, sex, and domestic affairs such as cooking and cleaning. There's a few who can do more, which is why we don't enslave all women. But most women are like you: useless whipped into place."
"Did you buy me to dance and sing for you and be your personal fuck-pillow, or did you want me to do some serious working and thinking in your engine room?"
"Sure, you're a good engineer, unlike most women. And if you were a man, it would be enough to simply pay you, and there would be no need to whip you!"
"Male slaves are as uncooperative as female slaves."
"More so: it is unnatural to enslave men, who are better encouraged by good pay than by whips."
"Women, too."
"Then why did you betray me after I offered you decent pay?"
"5%? Decent, for such a small crew? You probably pay free people 10% or more."
"I offered to pay you at all, even though you're a slave."
"To be paid back to you as interest on my debt, or, should I earn a goodly amount, still to be paid to you for my living expenses and punishments, and should I earn even more, still to be paid back to you against a principal that is likely to never be paid off. The interest alone will start at 30,000 drakel this month."
"It would have only be 6667 drakel in interest if you had been a good little slave."
"You might remember that when I chained you up, I didn't whip you."
"You speak as if we are equals. You are a slave and I am your master. Slaves are chained up, not masters. Slaves are whipped, not masters."
"And why is that aside from an arbitrary social concept?"
"You couldn't be independent even if you were free! If you did not have a master to take care of you, you would have the Aliketes order take care of you."
"That is only because you were too weak to resist enslavement! Even in the Argus system - you were dancing in Argusian style earlier, right - a woman may be spared slavery if she evades abduction on her 21st birthday."
"So would you have been, hadn't unchained you. And since when did Argusian women ever have a chance to evade abduction! An Argusian woman is drugged with sedatives in her wine during the party on the eve her 21st birthday, led to a bedroom into which she is locked, and typically chained and collared before she even wakes up."
"I am rich! They would have made more money from ransoming me than from selling me. And only a fool would allow herself to be drugged."
"When I was enslaved, my assets were seized. I was not offered a chance to buy my freedom."
"You could have fought harder. In any case, now you are offered a chance to buy your freedom, so you should really make the most of it rather than hitting your benefactor over the head."
"And is this how you mean to treat me until I buy myself, if I ever can? As a sex toy to be humiliated, whipped, beaten, and perhaps fucked?"
"Do you mean to attack me and try to escape every chance you get?"
"Perhaps, after I figure out how to unlock this collar."
"That is why you need punishment, my dear, to show you that escape attempts aren't worth it."
"What are you going to do to me?"
"Well, since you ask, I'm going to warm you up with this whip, and then move on to the knout. We might use the crop too a bit... yes. After a good whipping, you'll get clamps on your nipples and clitoris, and ginger dildos in your vagina and anus. I'll take the clamp off your clitoris, and put a piece of ginger on there instead. A rubber coated chain, lathered in ginger gel, will hold everything in place. You'll be chained in some other position, and if you don't scream at any time, and you are quiet and still enough to let me get a good night's sleep, we won't have to repeat all this tomorrow night."
"Remind me to return the favor if I ever get you in a collar again."
"Extra lashes for that," said Arik as he replaced the blindfold
Using his ordinary whip, he beat her breasts forty times, watching the slave's muscles flex and relax in little jerks. With the knout, he whipped them twenty times, each time bringing another convulsion of her body. He wiped the away the blood, sanitized the area, remove the breast bondage chain, and wrapped bandages around her breasts. Nipple clamps took their place over the bandages, and twice more her body convulsed, but after the second clamp, her muscles remained tensed. He looked at her mouth and saw it was bent into a silent scream.
"Breathe, little tratsch, breathe." He slapped her cheek, but she still didn't appear to breathe.
"Come on!" Now he stroked her cheek gently. "Just relax, inhale, and exhale." Frantically, he pulled the blindfold off, held her head gently with his right hand, and stroked her hair gently with his left. "Breathe now... damn it, Artemis, breathe!"
Her breaths were short at first, but gradually returned to normal as he stroked her hair.
"If you are so concerned," she gasped, "then stop whipping me, and skip the clamps and dildos."
"Your punishment will continue, just breathe, okay? And don't scream. You can whimper... just don't be loud." He kissed her on the forehead and replaced the blindfold.
Again, he he resumed whipping her. Sixty strokes with the ordinary whip on her left ass cheek, then sixty more on her right ass cheek. Then twenty on each with the knout. Her inner thighs were next to be peppered with strokes of the first whip. All in all, each leg got a hundred and twenty lashings from it, the whip moving its way slowly closer to the crotch area. Then each leg got forty lashes from the knout, again slowly moving toward the crotch. Suddenly, he cracked the knout down in between her legs, onto her crotch. Finally, she broke her silence with a small whimper. Nineteen more times he brought it down there, and sometimes it landed on her clit, or fell between the labial lips, bringing an even bigger convulsion and louder whimper. Twenty strikes from the crop each fell perfectly on her clit. The whimpering no longer stopped between strikes. At least she was breathing. He snapped the clamp on over her clit, and stopped for a bit to observe her writhing. Had it not been for all the blood, it might have been beautiful.
Now, the ginger dildos of which Alrik spoke were actually ordinary dildos of some soft, flexible material, smothered in a sort of ginger jelly. The first one was fourteen inches long and four inches wide: this he inserted into her vagina. This finally triggered a cry of pain, which he seemed not to notice. Of course, she struggled wildly, trying to break her ankles free, but the chains held her tightly.
"Now, I did tell you that if you screamed, we'd have to repeat this tomorrow night, didn't I? Well?"
"Yes."
"Is that what you want?"
"If you don't want me to scream, don't put ginger in me, or gag me: either way."
"The first is a no. A gag, maybe. I'll tell you what: I'll gag you, and if you want me to pull the gag out, you can signal me by shaking your head side-to-side three times. If you scream again after that, I'm afraid we'll have to do this all over again.
Into her mouth he inserted a dildo gag, coated in more of the ginger jelly. He heard a scream that grew more muffled as he inserted it in. It was a full six inches long and three inches wide, with the dildo only on the inside. He buckled it behind her head, and proceeded to pull out the next dildo: This one, coated in ginger jelly like the others, was ten inches long but only an inch wide. He inserted this slowly into her anus. The screams were muffled enough that he heard them not. He pressed a button on both the vaginal and anal dildos, causing them to squirt ginger juice into his chained slave. Two more buttons, and they began vibrating in her. She writhed vigorously.
He released her wrists and pulled them behind her. She struggled, but it seemed more of a jerking response the the pain than a conscious effort to stop him. He chained and locked her elbows and wrists tightly together behind her back. The chain he wound around her wrists was very long and coated in rubber. Locking one end in place to hold her wrists together, he pulled he remaining length up between her legs and to the front of her collar. After smearing the part near her crotch area in the ginger jelly, and replacing the clamp on her clitoris with a large piece of ginger, he pulled it tightly and locked it to the front of her collar. She writhed, trying to get some slack so the chain wouldn't press so hard into her clitoris, but succeeded only in pressing the fresh ginger harder against her clit.
He cleansed the blood from her ass, thighs, and pelvic area, and wrapped the area in more bandages. Eating a couple sandwiches, he watched the writhing for awhile. He removed the nipple clamps, and observed the increased jerking as the blood came flowing back to the slave's nipples. He let loose her ankles, only to lock them into a spreader bar, one foot wide. He turned off the light, got into bed with her, and pulled the blankets over them.
He pushed her onto her side so he could spoon with her, and wrapped an arm over her and around her belly. He pulled her tight, trying to keep her still.
"Didn't I tell you to be still while I try to sleep, trix?"
He felt her shake her head from side to side three times. As promised, he removed the gag. "Well?"
"How do you expect me to keep still with those dreadful things vibrating inside me?"
"Perhaps it will teach you not to hit me over the head or try to escape. And you can keep still, or if you don't know how, we can repeat this every night until you learn?"
"Then you mean to torture me every night?"
"Just put the same effort that you are putting into not screaming into not writhing either. I know you can do it." He held her tightly, uttering soft reassurances for about twenty minutes until she finally became still.
"Why did you fake it earlier?"
"There are worse things than being your slave, my master."
"Even after what I just did to you?"
"Yes, my master."
"Such as?" He waited, and after a time, said, "If you do not answer, those clamps will have to go back on your nipples."
"Such as when you are angry at me, at least you punish me by torturing me and not some other slave."
"Why would a torture a different slave for what you did?"
"Some masters do it to guilt trip me into doing their bidding."
"Well, it's hardly fair to the other girl...."
"That's the point."
After some silence, Alrik asked, "How did you become a slave?"
"The police came knocking on the door. I answered. Back then, many of us still trusted the police to protect us. They told me I was being charged with witchcraft. I told them I could prove that I wasn't a witch: I was a devout worshiper of Akiletes. They said I could tell it to the judge, but that if I resisted arrest, I would surely be found guilty. They gave me a hobble and ordered me to put it on myself. Then they told me told me to lie on my stomach and hold my hands behind my back. They chained my wrists and elbows together. They said they were afraid of being bewitched, and they had to put a gag in my mouth. I opened up and they but one of those leather inflatable gags in there. Then one of the police said, 'Aren't we going to search her for tools of magic she might use against us?' So, they began to cut off my clothing with a knife. That's when I started to struggle, but one of them held me down while the other went at it. First, he cut the sleeves off my shirt. After that, he cut off the bottom so my lower torso was exposed. Then, he removed the rest of it, and after that, my bra. They made comments about how big my breasts were, they called me a hure (the word we used instead of trix back then), and they began to play with my breasts. When I thought I couldn't be more humiliated, the police took his knife to my pants. I was already barefoot. Anyway, he cut them up piece by piece, exposing my legs from the bottom up. I loved those pants - black baggy canvas, huge pockets to store my tools."
"What color was your shirt?"
"It was also black. It was loose, cotton, long-sleeved, high neckline. A good work shirt. Anyway, after the pants, he cut off my underwear. I thought that then I had reached the limit of humiliation. Then he said, 'I wonder if she's a virgin,' and jammed his finger into my vagina! I guess he felt my hymen, because he said, 'She is!' Then the other one said, 'Well, we can't have that, can we? The judge would find her innocent if we brought her in like that.' They laid me back on my kitchen tabled, redoing the chains so that my wrists were now chained to two of the table legs. I tried to fight, but each of them had an arm. They adjusted the tightness so my bottom could just stick out a little over the other end of the table, to which they pulled it to. One of them held it there while the other unchained my ankles. They both grabbed a leg, which they pulled outward, so that each leg was parallel to the edge of the tabled. They bent my knees over the edges and attached a new chain to hold my ankles together under the table, and two more chains to hold my lower legs as close to the table legs as possible. There I was, fully exposed, more humiliated than I'd ever been in my life, and I could hardly move an inch. So they took turns raping me, first in my vagina, and then in my anus."
"That's a hell of a way to lose your virginity. Were you shaved back then?"
"No, of course I wasn't shaved! I was an astronomer, not a hure!"
"Relax, hure. I meant no offense. I'm just trying to picture what you were like as a free woman."
"If you mean no offense, why do you persist in calling me tratsch, trix, dawlie, and hure? And if I were a free woman, you would never see my crotch."
"Little dawlie, I call you those things to remind you that you are no longer free, that you are now nothing but property, and that you should act like it."
"And it is not offensive to be regarded as property?"
"It's shouldn't be, to you. It is the natural state of most women. What happened next?"
"Well, they rinsed me off and chained by elbows and wrists back together behind my back. Then they chained my legs together and to by wrists, forming hogtie. They blindfolded me, and carried me all trussed up like that into some sort of vehicle. It must have been a railcar, for the ride was very smooth. I was tossed into a cage at the police station. Many other naked women were also in cages. My trial was later that day. I was not ungagged, unchained, or even pulled out of the cage. They told me that the high priests had decreed that any grown woman who had had sex without marriage and who had not become a nun seeking repentance must be in league with the devil, and therefore a witch. I was not a virgin, I was not married, and I was not a nun: therefore, I must be a witch. The soul of a witch could only be saved by subservience to men, so I was sentenced to a life as a slave."
"But it's not as though you lost your virginity willingly."
"I could hardly point that out to them while gagged."
"That's not really much of a trial."
"Then free me."
"It's not my fault you weren't enslaved justly. I still paid a million drakel for you."
"No, but it is your fault for continuing to carry out their sentence. Unless you believe I am a witch?"
"No, little dawlie, I don't think you are a witch. But I bought you fair and square, hure, and your going to be mine until you've payed me back."
"How much pain and humiliation do you think a million drakel buys you?"
"I do not torture you for pleasure, but to teach you your place as a slave."
"You express sympathy with me for losing my virginity to rape, and yet you shove gigantic ginger dildos in me and set them to vibrate?"
"It's not as though I took your virginity with a ginger dildo."
"Oh, so there are some things you wouldn't do even to property."
"Sure, when the property is alive. I wouldn't beat a dog or cat."
"But you would beat a slave."
"That is the sort of discipline that slaves understand. And unsubservient slave can be a bigger risk to me than a wild dog or cat."
"If I'm so great a risk, free me."
"Or I can chain you up and beat you into submission."
"What makes you think your whip will succeed where others have failed?"
"Because I am also offering you a chance to work as an engineer, which you will enjoy, and because I am offering you a chance at freedom."
"In the meantime, what wouldn't you do to me?"
"Well, I can certainly do more to you with your Immortality modification than I could otherwise. Otherwise, I couldn't whip you so hard and expect you to heal within a week."
"So you won't kill me or cut off my limbs?"
"Dear, if I kill you, you'll be facing me, and you'll be armed. As for cutting off your limbs, I'd rather do something more temporary, like chain them up, and not have to wait god knows how many months for your limbs to grow back."
"But you mean to torture me sexually?"
"I wasn't planning on it, but then you had to go an attack me."
"You certainly had all your torture instruments prepared."
"You do have a history, so I bought them just in case. You know, dear, sometime when you are behaving well, I'll give you the orgasm of your life."
"You would be the first."
"What do you mean?"
"I've never orgasmed before, so if you did that, you would be the first."
"You know, not all sex acts upon a slave are torture. Sex can be enjoyable, even for a slave. Yes, I know you trixes fake it most of the time, but surely a pleased master must have occasionally made the effort to give you a real orgasm."
"I hate sex."
"I'll have to change that."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
"By not having sex with you until you fall in love with me and genuinely beg me to."
"Why would I do a thing like that?"
"Because I can treat you more kindly than all your previous masters have."
"You haven't made a good start of it."
"Are the vibrating dildos still bothering you?"
"They hurt like hell."
"Do you want me to turn them off?"
"Yes."
"Then beg."
"Please, master, will you make these dildos stop vibrating?"
"Beg harder."
"Please, master, have pity on a wretched slave, and stop torturing her with vibrating dildos."
"Beg harder, and promise to never attack me or try to escape again."
"No."
"Then enjoy."
After a period of silence, Alrik asked, "How did you wear your hair when you were free?"
"Long, down, no hairpieces or anything."
"Did you always wear baggy black pants with huge pockets?"
"Not always. Sometimes I wore baggy green pants with huge pockets."
"So they were all baggy pants with huge pockets."
"No. Sometimes they were jeans, or sweatpants, or dress pants."
"But never a dress or a skirt?"
"No. Why all these questions about my appearance?"
"I bet you were even more beautiful as a free woman."
"I received the immortality modification within a week after being enslaved. My body hasn't aged since then."
"Yes, but you would have had pride back then: none of this talk about humiliation."
"What difference does that make?"
"A woman with some pride, not so much as to make her haughty, just enough that she feels good about herself, is more attractive than a woman without pride."
"Perhaps if you didn't rape me with huge vibrating dildos, I might have a little pride."
"Nice try. But perhaps there is hope for you: if you did not have at least a little pride buried deep within you somewhere, you wouldn't be so practiced in the art of not screaming while being tortured."
"And you would not get to go to such lengths for the fun of getting a scream out of me."
"As I said earlier: I didn't torture you for the fun of it. I like that there is a shred of pride in you. I do not think I could put up with a slave who did nothing but plead and grovel and fake orgasms all the time."
"And yet you want to break me and turn me into such a slave."
"I want you to be respectful and subservient as is fitting for a piece of property. I don't want you to lie and fake pleasure and be an absolutely boring tratsch with no spine whatsoever."
"And the difference is?"
"Accept that you are a piece of property and act accordingly, but don't give up your dreams of being free someday, if that is what you want, or pretend to like anything you don't like."
"So you want a cooperative object of torture who doesn't pretend she likes being tortured?"
"No, I want a wife, but since I have a slave instead, my slave should behave like a slave."
"So free me and marry me."
"You'd run away before I could get you to the altar."
"So take my collar off only just before we step into the temple, and keep me chained until I've signed the contract and the ceremonies are complete."
"I don't think that would fulfill all the legal requirements. Marriage is supposed to be voluntary, you know, unlike enslavement."
"Without the collar, I would technically be free."
"I suppose it might work. But why don't you earn my trust first? You could start by not attacking me, or my crew, or my customers, or anyone else aside from my enemies, and not trying to run away."
"Will you marry me then?"
"Perhaps, if I still like you."
"Then I might refrain from attacking you and trying to run away."
"Let the dildos keep vibrating if you like."
They said nothing more until morning. Alrik slept, while his slave concentrated on not screaming and not moving. When it came, Alrik was awakened by his alarm. He hit snooze, and held the woman in front of him tighter. He had been having such a pleasant dream. He leaned over to french kiss the lovely woman by his side. Gently, exploring her mouth with his tongue, he realized that her lips were not soft but caked with blood. Thinking someone had hurt his lady love, he reached to stroke her cheek. On it's way, his hand brushed against her collar, and with a start, he remembered who she was, not his lady love, just some common slave, and he pulled himself away.
"What was that about?"
"I was half asleep and thought you were someone else."
"Who?"
"None of your business."
"If there is someone you care about like that, why would you even think of marrying me?"
"She doesn't exist; she's just the woman of my dreams."
"So for a few moments, you thought I was the woman of your dreams, and then you changed your mind."
"I remembered that you are property. The lady of my dreams is a free woman. Therefore, you cannot be her. Perhaps you might've been, over six hundred years ago, but not now."
"Would you have proposed to me back then?"
"Probably."
"You do realize marriage contracts were not so favorable to men back then? Women and men were equal partners in marriage."
"It wouldn't matter if we loved each other."
"And how would you have wooed me?"
"Perhaps I'll tell you some other time. Keep still." He first removed chain connect her collar to her wrists, then the ginger. After slowly removing the dildos (the anal one first), he tried to direct her to his shower. She collapsed, unable to stand, so he carried her there, and removed her remaining chains and bandages. After undressing himself, he washed away most of the ginger.
"Are you going to stand, or should I just chain you up here for the day?"
She couldn't stand, so instead, sighing, she held up her wrists toward the metal support there, which was meant for a person in the shower to grab onto in the event of turbulence. He left and returned with a few more chains. A manacle clapped over her right wrist, and she was pulled up by it, until her wrist reached the height of the bar. This forced her to stand on her knees. He grabbed her left wrist, and, after looping the two-inch chain between the manacles over the bar, clapped that wrist in the second manacle. After clapping her ankles in metal anklets with another two-inch chain between them, he looked down at the kneeling slave, forced to stand on her knees.
"Well, it's just the right height for me to fuck you in the mouth."
"Yes, master."
"What is it now?"
"Just please get it over with and let me sleep, my master."
He positioned his penis in front of her mouth. "Open."
She immediately opened her mouth wide, and remained still.
"Wow, you must be tired. Come on, then." Changing his mind about leaving her chained in the shower all day, he wound new bandages around her wounds and unchained her again. After carrying her to the bed and helping her get dressed, he put her wrists back in the manacles and her ankles back in the anklets.
He carried her off to the brig, and laid her on the bed he had set in there. For all he could tell, she was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, so he tucked her in.
[to be continued]
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