by Mind Guest
What a great life, I thought as I watched the girl slave work on her
chain brother. Live and work for no other purpose than to be thrown to
your back and raped. The slave propaganda made it sound like the
ultimate aim of the universe, but in order to believe it you had to be
a slave. Or maybe a slave had to believe it to survive, which seemed to
be the name of the game no matter what position you held in life.
Not long after the girl started on the male slave, the man in the
golden-yellow shirt who had been standing next to me walked away for a
minute, then came back with a thick mat and fat pillows like the ones
the man in the light yellow shirt used. The mat and pillows were put
down next to me, to my left, and then the man was next to me, making
himself comfortable. My knees and legs hurt from kneeling, my arms were
beginning to numb up from being chained in one place, and my bottom was
still protesting the invasion, but the man who had done it all was
making himself comfortable. He leaned on one arm facing me, the back of
his head toward the two performing slaves, the look in his eyes too
direct to meet. He wasn't there by accident, I knew, and I wasn't
overly anxious to learn the reason for it.
"I think it would be best if you now learned more of the feelings of a
female slave," the man in light yellow told us, drawing our attention
to him again. "You will then understand the slave's eagerness to
please, and may then imagine the priceless gift she is given."
A hand came to slide along my thigh, and then it moved around to my
buttocks, stroking briefly before patting twice. I gasped and rose up
off my heels to escape the sensations brought about by being patted on
that device, but golden-shirt's hand followed after me and touched me
again. Bellna flared inside my mind and her lack of control with her,
responding to what was being done to me with bewildered desperation. A
burning had begun between my thighs, deep in that place which was my
womanhood, a burning more intense than any I had ever experienced. The
brute beside me touched the device which had been inserted within my
body and caused it to vibrate softly but terribly, and though I
strained away from him, I could not escape the intrusion of his touch.
Farther and farther I strained away, the burning growing higher and
more intense - and then his other hand was at my thighs, his fingers
touching my womanhood!
"To serve!" said the one of higher breeding who sat before us, as my
body was caught in the indescribable sensations of that touch. "You
will live to serve and serve well, you will beg to serve and serve
well, you will fall into a frenzy of need if you are not allowed to
serve! Down to your heels now, and do not rise from them again. Merely
look upon the ecstasy you may be given."
The touch, which had sent flares through my body, was suddenly gone,
leaving the burning and desire unrelieved. With a whimper I lowered
myself to my heels, fearful that disobedience would bring me - I knew
not what. For me there would be no rescue, no return to the life I had
known. I, of higher birth than any of these others, was now no more
than the lowest of slaves, captured and chained and touched as none
before them had dared. Oh, how unfair to do me so, as though I were of
no worth whatsoever! To leave me so terribly aburn! Were I free of
those chains, I would happily take the lives of all of them, for daring to do such things to me! I hated them all, fiercely, and yet - what
would be done to me if I were to disobey?
"See how the slave is urged on to greater effort," said the high-born
one, indicating the manner in which the male slave touched the female
tending him. His hand moved between her thighs as she moaned over his
manhood, the burning in her clear to one who burned as she did. And yet
she was touched while I was not, which brought involuntary movement to
my hips - which in turn brought new awareness of that device and of my
burning need. They were sure to take my use; why had they not yet done
so?
"You may now take the slave who has aroused you," said the high-born
one to the male slave. "Take her fully, yet must you take her slowly.
You may begin."
The hands of the male slave went to the waist of the female, lifted her
across his body, then put her to her back beside him upon the mat. She
lay trembling as he rose up above her, so deeply in need that she
seemed to have no fear of that terrible weapon of his body. Her
breathing quickened as he spread her thighs and approached her more
closely, and clearly could we see her greater agitation when his
manhood merely touched her womanhood.
"Please, master, enter me now!" she begged in a hoarse whisper,
twisting about and attempting to draw him to her. "I must serve you,
else I shall die!"
"Slowly," cautioned the high-born one, speaking to the male slave. "She
has not yet reached a true frenzy. The longer you delay, the greater
will be your pleasure-and hers."
"Should I delay too long, she will lose a good measure of arousal,"
growled the male slave, speaking for the first time. His manhood
touched the woman beneath him more deeply yet, and the woman screamed
and attempted to impale herself.
"Take me now!" she screamed, struggling against the large hands on her
thighs, which held her in place upon the mat. "Now, now, you must take
me now, and quickly!"
"Slowly," repeated the other, and the male slave, with a glance for
those who wore swords and carried whips, obeyed the command of the
high-born one. Slowly, slowly, did his manhood enter her, she screaming
and thrashing about, and when at last he was fully within and began
using her, I thought it likely that I would soon be senseless. My head
whirled dizzily to the throbbing burn of my body, and I yearned
desperately for my wrists to be freed. As though from a distance I
heard the whimpers and moans from those who stood in capture with me,
and knew that they, too, were taken as I.
"Should you wish to be touched, you must beg it," came a soft voice
from beside me, the brute who had touched me earlier speaking so that
only I might hear. "Beg that I give you that which only a master might
give."
I turned my head to look upon him, seeing the amusement in his eyes,
yet also suddenly seized by the knowledge that my torment might be
ended. My body flamed high with the realization that his touch might be
forthcoming, and I could not halt the sudden trembling which took me.
"Touch me," I whispered so that only he might hear such terrible words.
"I beg that you touch me! Please! Quickly!"
"There is scarcely so great a rush, slave child," the brute chuckled,
placing one large hand upon my thigh. "Your knees must be more widely
separated, else I shall be unable to reach you."
The embarrassment of doing such a thing was great, yet what else was I
to do? In dire haste I opened my knees as widely as I was able, and again the brute chuckled.
"You are truly well made for a child of
your years," said he, raising
one hand to the cloth which covered my breasts. The cloth upon my left
breast was moved aside with the smallest of efforts, yet he did no more
than gaze upon the breast.
"Please!" I whispered, slowly growing frantic. "I have begged for the
touch, and you must give it to me!"
"You are mistaken," the brute said, laughing softly. "You must beg, yet
I need not heed your begging. The choice of whether or not I shall
touch you is mine alone."
"Oh, no," I whimpered, devastated by his cruelty. "You must touch me,
you must! I beg to be touched, do you hear, I beg to be touched!
Please, I beg it!"
"Perhaps I shall touch you," mused the brute, sending his gaze to my
thighs. "Are you unable to open yourself any farther?"
The slave female screamed in delight at the pummeling being given her
body, and with a shudder I strove to open my thighs even farther. The
device touched my heels in such a position, yet when I attempted to
straighten against the pressure, the brute's hand was quickly upon my
arm.
"You were forbidden to rise from your heels," he said, all amusement
gone. "Do you mean to disobey?"
"No, I will not disobey!" I whispered, frightened at the thought of
what would be done to me. "Please! I will not disobey!''
"Very well," came his gruff agreement, filling me with relief that I
would not be harmed-yet also increasing my misery. The feel of the
device as it touched my heels was fuel to the flames consuming my body,
yet he would not allow me to escape the sensation.
"I must see that the device yet remains within you," he said, putting
his hand behind me. "Do not rise from your heels, else shall you be
punished."
"Please!" I begged as his hand touched me. "Please make the choice that
I be touched! Please, I beg it!"
"Ah, how quickly you have learned," he chuckled, continuing to toy with
the device. "You beg that I choose to ease you, rather than believing
that I am bound to do so. Am I bound to ease you?"
"No!" I wept, beside myself at what he did to me. "You may choose
whether I am to be touched, and I beg that you do!"
"A slave touched is a slave given a great gift," he said, taking his
hand from the device. "The slave may earn such a gift in only one way,
and that is to obey without question and serve eagerly. This is what
you will learn."
No longer was I able to respond to him, for with the last of his words
did he touch me, fully, strongly, and with great knowledge of my need.
I, too, screamed as the female slave did, touched again and again so
deeply that consciousness was soon lost to me.
When I came out of it Bellna was still in a daze, so the turn was mine
again. I lay on my side on the rough mat, aware of all the people
around me, aware of everything Bellna had gone through. For once I had
to admit it was a damned good thing she'd been there to take over, even
though it was my body being put over the hurdles. These slavers were
obviously trying to condition their three victims, and the purposes
they had in mind clearly called for a type of conditioning beyond the
usual fear-of-a-whip sort. Bellna had reacted properly to the
conditioning, whereas I, aware of it, probably wouldn't have done such
a thorough job. I needed to be thought of as nothing out of the ordinary, so they'd turn their backs on me without a second thought. As
soon as that happened I'd be gone, and they could take their
conditioning and use it on themselves.
A couple of minutes later I was slapped "awake," and a minute after
that I was back on my knees, right in the same spot I'd been in
earlier. The other two girls on line were crying, and had obviously
been given the same treatment Bellna had been put through. Their
goldenshirts didn't look as pleased as mine, though, and I wondered
what sort of test Bellna had passed that the others hadn't. It felt as
though I'd been out for some time, but that wasn't possible; the male
slave was still at it with the girl slave, and they both seemed to be
enjoying the rapid movement. A second go around would have been more
leisurely and undemanding, so they still had to be at it from the first
time. My knees began aching again almost immediately, and that device
was more uncomfortable than it had been earlier; I listened to the
other girls crying and watched the two slaves enjoying themselves, and
thought about how nice the deep, empty woods would be right then.
My mind wandered a short distance, but it was brought back rather
quickly when the male slave was commanded to finish his fun. Very
reluctantly he did so, emptying his played out need into the girl who
was also reluctant to let him go, and then he leaned down and kissed
her briefly, something he hadn't done even when he was using her. The
girl seemed touched by the kiss, but she was given no more than a
matter of seconds to enjoy the gesture. As soon as the male slave had
withdrawn from her and stood, one of the armed men took her by the hair
and dragged her in front of light-shirt.
"I seem to recall, slave, that you attempted to counter a command of
mine," he drawled, looking at her with an unblinking stare. "Could such
a thing be possible?"
"Master, forgive me!" she whispered, beginning to tremble violently
despite the fist in her hair. "I had no knowledge of what I said! Never
would I havea133"
"Enough," he interrupted mildly, cutting off her outpouring with the
single word. "There are no excuses and there are no exceptions. Punish
her."
The girl fell apart into absolute hysteria, but that didn't keep her
from being dragged farther into the space between our line and the
seated man in the light yellow shirt. She was forced to a kneeling
position with her head to her knees, a position that her extreme terror
kept her rigidly locked into. No one said anything about what would
happen if she broke the position, but no one had to. It might have
helped the girl a little to know that the male slave stood with his
feet spread and hands curled into fists, a furious expression in his
eyes and the point of the sword of the second armed man in his back,
but only on a moral-support level. Physically nothing was going to help
her, and when the first armed man, who had dragged her to where she
knelt, opened his swordbelt and slipped the scabbard off, even the
sniffles of the two little girls to my left died to silence.
The beating was pretty bad, especially since it was given so matter-offactly.
There was no anger on the part of anyone, but the poor girl was
beaten until her body was covered with welts, until too many of those
welts were split open, until the blood covered all of her back like
oozing paint. Toward the end of it she didn't even twitch, showing she
was unconscious, but knowing that even that hadn't stopped the beating
made the whole thing much more chilling. The trembling I was taken with
wasn't all Bellna's doing, and there was no dispute as to who was in
control. The Bellna pres
ence was able to pick up the tenor of my deepest feelings, and they frightened her even more than the beating.
When it was all over, men were called in to carry the unconscious girl
out, and then we were back to lesson time. Or, rather, specific
training time. The girl's beating had been a lesson for the three new
slaves, and that lesson wasn't lost on any of us. I trembled and
cowered just as much as the other two girls, but only because I'm a
professional and therefore able to force the necessary self-control.
Light-shirt had the male slave chained down tight on his back, and then
we were set to practicing on him, touching, caressing, arousing. His
obvious displeasure at the girl's beating hadn't been missed, and he
was next in line as an object lesson, his lot only a little less
painful than the girl's. We took turns at the various tasks, practicing
until we got some response out of the slave, all the time being urged
on, directed, and aroused ourselves by our individual golden-shirts.
The key word for the conditioning turned out to be "serve," and the
conditioned reflex itself was arousal. Given enough time, the slavers
could have had almost anyone writhing just about instantly, and that
became a considerable worry for me. I can fake interest and desire
better than most, but true arousal involves bodily reactions that
simply aren't on my instantaneous list. The golden-shirts were arousing
us slowly and checking those bodily reactions on a casual basis just
then, but the longer that training went on, the faster they'd expect a
reaction and the closer they'd be checking. I had to be out of there
before that happened, or else allow myself to be really conditioned.
Anything in between would be a dead give-away, of my differences if
nothing else. The male slave strained at the chains that held him,
gritting his teeth at the way we were being taught how not to allow
release in order to increase pleasure, his suffering getting my full
sympathy. We three girls were too clumsy to suit our golden-shirts, so
we weren't being allowed release either.
The training seemed to go on for days before we were allowed a break.
We three and the male slave were covered with sweat, aching all over
and with no strength left, but the training didn't stop until the
slavers decided it was time. We girls were each sent to a separate wall
