by Jaye Peaches
“But there are no fences. Barriers?”
He leaned over her shoulder. “See the desert. There is nowhere to go. That is why this planet is ideal. You have no place to escape to. The dome is to keep us in and safe. You will live freely amongst the others. You’ll work, be paid in food vouchers, and go to bed in a room, not a locked cell.”
“Then why the guards?” She gestured toward the soldiers.
“Why indeed? Traditionally the governors have allowed the prisoners to police themselves. Petty crimes and misdemeanors are for the jurisdiction of the colony police force. However, major crimes, uprising and insurrection, those are for us to deal with. And we do so, harshly. That is what makes Tagra appealing for a young soldier. They come for a few years, need only watch and listen from afar as the prisoners squabble amongst themselves. A remote location it might be, but there are many pleasures for a young Vendu soldier to have in Tagra city. You might remember that, Freya.”
What did he mean by that? She opened her mouth to ask, but he tapped his earpiece. “I’m on my way,” he barked into the mouthpiece clipped to his lapel. Without another word he left the cabin.
The transporter circled the colony, descending lower until ready to make its entry into the dock. By then Freya was nauseous and despondent. Her future was bleak and unknown.
No shackles or restraints were used on her, but the guard’s grip on her elbow as he escorted her off the ship was vise-like. He weaved her through the cheerful faces of the soldiers and into the building that housed the reception center for new prisoners.
Brought before a counter, being the sole arrival for that day, Freya eyed the long-faced man behind the desk. Initially, he merely glanced at her, then lifting his chin again, he peered down his nose and inspected her as if she was an exhibit in a zoo. “So, this is the Earthling. Prisoner number sixty-two, one.”
“Freya,” she snapped. “My name is Freya Caspari.”
“Planet sixty-two, prisoner number one. Although, I gather Earthlings were sent to other penal colonies during the conquest of planet sixty-two—”
She seethed at his reference to the so-called conquest. “Earth, it’s called Earth. We made a peace treaty. There was no defeat.”
He glared at her and the guard, whose hand remained firmly grasped around her upper arm, pinched it harder, drawing her back and away from the counter.
The man jabbed his finger in the air and stabbed at an imaginary point in front of him. “Do not interrupt me.” He lowered his hand. “As I was saying. Some of the prisoners of war, those who resisted, were sent here until Earth sensibly accepted the terms of defeat. There hasn’t been an Earthling on Tagra for a long time and you are the first female Earthling to be incarcerated on this colony. Ever.” He smiled with the last word. “You’ve much to learn.”
“I was aware of the soldiers sent here, but there would have been women soldiers captured too. Surely they were the first human females held captive?” The history of that era remained cast in shadows. Nobody dared dredge up the past and recount those terrible days when Earth came close to destruction.
“Women warriors!” he scoffed and shook his head. “The Vendu are the warrior race and we rely on our men to fight. Women are the nest makers and bringers of joy when the weary soldier returns from battle.” He clucked his tongue. “Any woman found in uniform would be sent home, where she belongs.”
Freya narrowed her eyes and dispatched an angry glare, but the man turned away and focused on the details flashing up on the monitor.
“It appears you have been allocated work in the laundry complex. Only the most trusted, long-serving prisoners live in accommodation with washing facilities—water is precious. You will work every day there, ensuring fresh clothing and bedding is issued to all prisoners. Tagra is a hot planet. You might find you need to wear little to keep cool.” He chortled. “Most females prisoners prefer to keep cool.”
“So I’m not the only female here?”
“Oh, no. We have many sent here from all over the empire. Disobedient females, just like their male counterparts. Thieves, rebels, and spies, like yourself. Now. Before you are assigned your accommodation, food vouchers, and work clothes, you must undergo an extensive medical exam.”
“What!” Freya gaped. “I had one before I left Earth.”
The guard at her shoulder snorted. “That was to ensure you could survive the stasis procedure,” he said.
“Then, what is this one for?” she asked.
“You might carry diseases that require quarantine,” said the man behind the counter. “You also are the first female from your planet. A record will need to be made of all of your facets. Our medics will need to know how to treat you if you fall ill. It is very thorough.”
Goosebumps prickled down Freya’s back and she licked her dry lips. “Thorough?”
“You’ll find out.” He pointed to a door. “Take her down there. Exam room two. They’re waiting for her. I understand they’ve been excited about her arrival for some time.”
“They?”
“The doctors. They’ve never seen an Earthling. You’re a novelty. Quite unlike other convicts sent here.”
Chapter Three
The guard had to push Freya through the door into the medical suite. Her legs had started to shake so badly, she could barely walk. “There you go. Don’t fret,” he said, almost kindly. “They’re doctors. Not military.”
The door banged shut behind her and she stood before the two men, both of whom were dressed in white tunics and pants, and were carrying recording devices—thin tablets almost like paper.
“Prisoner sixty-two, one. Correct?” one announced, reading off his screen.
“Freya Caspari.” She wasn’t going to give up her name for anyone.
The slightly taller man smiled. “Freya. If that makes you more comfortable, then we’ll call you that.” They looked very alike, almost twins. The same build, the same buzz-cut hair and the square-set jaw, which was common amongst the Vendu. However, unlike the burly soldiers on the transport, these men were wispier, less imposing. The Vendu were a mighty race of humanoids, their bodies typically lean and muscular. The density of their muscles gave them incredible strength compared to humans. Their eyes could focus in on smaller details and their sense of smell was heightened and sensitive. However, their hearing appeared no different as she muttered under her breath, “Bastards.”
They twitched in unison, but seemed not to have heard what she said.
“You’ll need to strip naked and then we can start. This might take a while, so if you need a drink, please say so.” The taller man pointed at a chair. “Place your clothing there. You’ll be issued with new ones.”
“Naked? Where is the nurse? A female chaperone?” She glanced around the vast exam room with its beds and cabinets. One examination table gave her palpitations. It had the familiarity of a gynecological setup with stirrups and adjustable leg rests.
The short man smirked. “Nurse? Doctor Curzon and I are fully qualified to conduct this examination. The presence of additional personnel is unnecessary.”
“But… but you’re men,” she stuttered, taking a step backwards.
“We’re doctors. I am Doctor Han and I’m an expert in alien physiology. I’ve conducted many examinations of aliens.” He seemed pleased with the declaration, but Freya had heard not one word of comfort or reassurance.
“Please. This is very scary for me—”
Doctor Curzon stepped forward and touched her shoulder. Freya flinched, shrugging his hand off her. “Freya,” he said gently. “We’re doctors. We need to know how your physiology functions. How different it is to other species we have on the colony. If you fall ill, we must know how to treat you. We will make a record of you now to benchmark against. All your measurements, your blood makeup, your skin condition, and your internal organs, too. Now, please remove your clothing, because if you don’t we will be forced to call in the guard and have him strip you. This is not a choice, Fre
ya. This medical assessment is compulsory.”
Resigned to the situation, she dredged up the willpower she needed to see her through the ordeal. Her arms moved stiffly as she hooked the t-shirt over her head. She nearly stumbled as she bent over to lower her pants, turning sideways so they couldn’t see the cleft in her bottom or the tuft of hair at the apex of her thighs. She quickly tossed the clothes on the chair unfolded, then covered her breasts with one arm and her pubic mound with her palm of her hand.
“Hands to your sides, please,” ordered Dr. Curzon.
She slowly dropped her arms and cringed as her naked body was put on display. She swayed slightly before finding the strength to lock her knees and prevent them from wobbling.
He waved a scanning device up and down her torso, noting the presence of her organs. “Heart is located slightly to the left.”
“Why is that important?” she queried.
He raised an eyebrow. “Why? It’s so with the Vendu. Most humanoids we encounter, the heart is to the right. Also you have one liver, not two, but it is larger than ours.”
She shrugged off his comments. Since the Vendu had arrived on Earth nearly a century ago, the human race had been made aware of numerous similar species scattered across the galaxy. Their origins remained unknown, but since the Vendu were dominant and controlled vast sectors of space, they hid their secrets well. Only the Vendu had visited Earth.
They worked their way through a battery of tests including a blood sample, a strand of hair for DNA analysis, and the condition of her teeth was checked, too. Dr. Curzon conducted the basic assessment and he ran through his checklist, humming to himself. “Good. Now, this might sting.” He applied a thin pen-like device to her neck and it hissed as something sharp shot under the surface of the skin.
Freya yelped. “What’s that?” She rubbed the spot and felt a small lump.
“A tracking device. In case you wander off into the desert and become lost. Also, certain locations are segregated by gender. For your safety, naturally.” He smiled, but she saw through it, because there were no smile lines around his eyes. “It’s scanned whenever you enter a building, such as your accommodation or workplace.”
Tracked? Was her every movement monitored? That gave her the creeps. “It can be removed?” she asked.
“Yes, but it has a lifespan as long as yours. Removing it is unnecessary.” He turned away, leaving her standing alone once again in the middle of the room.
Dr. Han picked up a pair of calipers and adjusted the tips. Approaching her, he began to measure the width of her limbs, calling out the numbers to the other doctor, who diligently wrote them down on the table. Upper arms, then forearms.
“Interesting,” stated Dr. Han, running his fingers along her wrist. “The bones in the forearm aren’t fused together.”
Neck, forehead, and jaw, each were treated to precise measurements. After he completed the limbs, which meant she had to part her legs sufficiently for him to measure her thighs, she snapped her knees back together again. He rose from his crouched position. “Your feet are a good size for your height,” he declared. “On planet twenty-nine, the species have unusually small feet.”
He adjusted the calipers, drawing in the tips. To her astonishment, he placed each side of the calipers around one of her nipples. Freya gasped as the cold metal tickled her pebble.
“That isn’t hurting you, is it?” he asked softly.
She shook her head.
“Your nipples have hardened up. That can be a sign of anxiety or sexual arousal. I wonder which?” He turned his back on her heated face and spoke not to her, but Dr. Curzon. “She’s sexually active, isn’t she?”
“According to the notes sent from the detention center on her home planet, yes. She’s taking medication to make her infertile and she admitted to sexual activity during her interrogations. We’ll continue with the medication. It’s similar to our own treatment.”
“Good.” Dr. Han faced Freya again. “We don’t need offspring here. Most ill-advised.”
She felt the rise in heat around her neck and cheeks. The embarrassing confessions she’d made during those sessions under the influence of the truth serum continued to haunt her. “And who the hell am I going to fuck anyway,” she muttered. Unfortunately, he was close enough to hear that comment.
“The question should be who will fuck you? Your status is low. A newcomer and unique. Nevertheless, I suspect it will make you popular.”
Her eyes widened. “But, I don’t want to have sex with anyone. It’s not how we do things on Earth. It’s about love and—”
“Love?” he laughed. “Here on Tagra, sex is a commodity for trading. It has value. Out there, the men rule. All the prisoners have decided their own rules, beyond the obvious criminal ones. Since men form the majority, they have decided women must acquiesce to their sexual demands.”
“No,” she murmured. “God, no.”
“Don’t panic,” said Dr. Curzon. “Rape is technically illegal. The Vendu won’t tolerate it. However, the men have expectations, needs they’ll want met by their fellow prisoners. You’d best identify one to look after you. He’ll keep you safe and make you his. Then you’ll be fine.”
She had to belong to somebody? That didn’t make it any less humiliating. “That’s no solution. That’s unfair.”
“It’s the way things are done here,” Dr. Han said glibly. “So, we’d best examine you internally. Most males in the penal colony like to engage in all manner of sexual acts. Have you ever had anal sex before?” he asked nonchalantly.
Freya staggered and he caught her arm. “No. This is wrong. So wrong.”
Dr. Han escorted her toward the examination table, the one with the stirrups and straps. “Up you get. I’m very keen to see your sexual attributes.”
Attributes! The doctor pressed her down, forcing her backwards onto the padded table.
“Legs up on these rests and we can spread them nice and wide.” Dr. Curzon tapped the foot hold. “Slot your feet under this strap.”
She couldn’t think what to do but obey them. The guard was outside; she had no friends and nobody to stand up for her. Her jelly legs needed the support of the stirrups. Spreading them out was crippling as her vagina and bottom were presented to the two medics.
“Excellent. What an exquisite arrangement. So like the Vendu’s and others too, but this,” Dr. Han tapped her pubic mound. “Hairy still and beneath this little hood, can you see, Dr. Curzon, an external clitoris.”
The other medic bent over and peered between her legs. “Indeed. Remarkable.”
“It needs no internal stimulation to achieve an orgasm.”
Freya screeched, “I’m not an ‘it’!”
Dr. Han continued his appraisal. “From what has been gleaned, this tiny thing is quite capable of arousing the whole body into a state of orgasm. Several orgasms. And unlike the Vendu, it works independently of vaginal stimulation.”
The conversation was beyond humiliating. They spoke about her clitoris as if it were nothing more than an appendage, something she had no control over. What made it so fascinating?
“I’m here!” she called out, lifting her head up off the table.
“I would appreciate watching it come. Would that be possible under these circumstances?” Dr. Curzon asked of his colleague.
Dr. Han mentioned a word Freya didn’t recognize. When he said it, he grinned and nodded. “She’s producing natural lubricants. A sign of intense arousal.”
No! It wasn’t possible, surely? “What are you talking about? What’s that word you used?”
“It’s a non-medical representation of your vagina. I suppose you might say it is intimate.” Dr. Han snapped on a glove. “We’ll shave off this hair so you can see the physical response as she orgasms.”
Pussy, he meant her pussy, or some other vulgar term. It lowered the tone of the conversation. She decided to be defiant and refuse to come. “I am not going to have an orgasm,” she hollered.
; “We have devices that will ensure you do. We usually insert electrical probes in the vagina and anus, and the pulses stimulate an orgasm. However, since your clitoris is not inside your vagina, we can electrify the external clitoris with a small clip and stimulate it that way. Do we have a small clamp we can attach to it, Dr. Curzon? It will probably pinch a little, but once she is stimulated, the pain will be blocked by the waves of intense pleasure.” He looked around the room and Dr. Curzon opened a cabinet door.
Freya attempted to sit up, but her legs were strapped down both around her ankles and thighs. She couldn’t escape. How to stop them? They were conducting experiments on her, not an examination. How could it be right?
“Please lie back, Freya.” Dr. Han nudged her back. “Just relax.”
“Relax? You’re about to electrocute me—”
“Nothing of the sort. A few pulses and it will be done. We can record the images of your clitoris swelling and the contractions.”
“Record,” she stammered. “I’m being turned into an…” she hunted for a suitable phrase in Vendian, “exhibit.”
“You’re unique, Freya. Your presence on Tagra is providing the alien health division with excellent study opportunities. I might put in a request to keep you here in the medical facility for a few days and see what else we can discover about you.”
Her throat constricted into a tight ball. The whir of the shaver was barely audible and in state of shock, she lay still as Dr. Curzon removed her hair. Folding her arms around her face, she hid the tears prickling her eyes. They’d warned her during her training about torture and other things that they might do to her if she were caught. However, no amount of training could have prepared her for this medical examination. The interrogation back on Earth had been frightening and intimidating, but the truth serum they’d given her hadn’t hurt and they’d not laid a finger on her, contrary to the belief that the Vendu favored brutality.
“Smooth and bare. Now if we lift this little hood and expose the tip of the clitoris, we can clamp it. Let’s go for five minutes or so for the first one, then we’ll go longer for the next with the probes inserted to record the internal contractions.” Dr. Han touched her. Neither rough nor gentle, he slid his fingers along her slit and nudged her clitoris.
