Worthy of a Master: The Tale of a Perfect Slave

by Chelsea Shepard

  "Could you move aside, please. I can't see anything."

  "No, honey, you're not waiting for your turn. Svelia's show is starting in a minute."

  Someone was yelling far behind.

  "Can people move on, please? You're blocking the door!"

  The feather returned, soon to be replaced by a vibrator which teased every visible spot on my body without entering where it was supposed to fit. When the buzzing stopped, my right nipple got pinched.

  "Hey," a man shouted, "let me put on the other one."

  Another pinch on the left. And two breaths blowing over my head.

  "I wish our women had breasts like hers."

  "Maybe some day, my friend. Let's see what her genes bring us."

  "Too bad we can't touch, huh?"

  "Move away, people, it's my turn now."

  A shock. Hands groped my breasts while the clamps tightened and sent short flashes of pain. The intrusive touch was weird. I felt fingers, but no flesh.

  "Gloves, eh? How smart of you."

  "I'm not sure Khiru would appreciate it, though. Did you see the note?"

  "So what's he going to do? By the time he gets here, I'll be gone. And I'm not officially touching her."

  Asshole. His resina hands kneaded my breasts as if they were buns of dough, and although my vagina was reacting positively, I groaned and pulled on the ropes.

  He laughed.

  "You don't like this, do you? Or maybe you like it too much?"

  He slid his hands down my sides and to my crotch. There he traced circles and crosses, careful not to press too long on my swollen nub.

  "Don't worry, I'm not going to get inside. That could get me into trouble."

  I almost wished he would, though. I was so ready then.

  A girl called him. "That's enough now. Khiru could be on his way. Let's go."

  "Just one more thing."

  Unexpectedly, he caressed my ears.

  "For luck," he whispered before leaving.

  I was breathless. And the crowd around me sounded as loud as ever. How would I go through with this?

  The vibrator again. I was dying for it to enter me.

  The wheel. Feeble, push harder, make me feel it.

  The clamps came off. Blood returned with a sharp pinch. I took a few more steps into Southieland.

  The feather returned to my neck, like a fly skimming over me, driving me crazy.

  "I've long wanted to do this."

  Someone was tying more rope around my breasts, tightening their bases and pushing the globes out. He was an expert; he was not touching my skin. I liked the permanent pressure of this new bondage. It made my breasts sensitive to air itself.

  The clamps found their way back to my nipples.

  "Mmm, she likes that."

  I wasn't conscious of my whimpering. I didn't care, either.

  But the next voice startled me.

  "You look gorgeous, darling."

  Myhre!

  "Has Khiru shown you what a vibrator and a rope could do together? Probably. But it's one of my favorite games, and I'd love to play it with you."

  She couldn't possibly mean it. Myhre, my friend, a woman, in a sexual scene with me?

  I tried to shake my head and "mmmed" negatively.

  "Tsk, tsk, Megan. What are friends for?"

  Precisely not for this.

  She laughed as if she'd heard me. "There, feel this."

  A rope around my waist started vibrating. Like a signal going from one terminal to another, the ripple continued along another vine, and another, until I lost track of its exact location, my attention too focused on my vagina clenching hopelessly against the cruel void. I panted and whined and prayed for mercy.

  "You're a good Southie, my dear. Very sensitive, very sensual. I like that. Maybe we'll get to play more together."

  Myhre quickly kissed one of my nipples – I supposed Khiru would forgive her – and disappeared.

  A couple of strangers followed her and blew on me, but their ministrations didn't have the same powerful, and frightening, appeal as my friend's.

  Just as I was afraid my arousal was going to deflate like a punctured balloon, I felt hands on my hips. Real flesh, this time. Someone was touching me. Caressing me. Kissing my neck. And leaning his groins close to my sex.

  I moaned with delight and lust. Khiru was back.

  ‘I love you," he said to my ear.

  While he held me pinned to the tree with his body, someone else cut the ropes, and soon I was free. Once the blindfold came off too, I wrapped my arms around Khiru's neck and kissed him hard.

  At that moment, the crowd I'd momentarily forgotten burst in frenetic applause and started yelling from all parts.

  "You were great, Megan!"

  "Thank you, Khiru."

  "You're one of us now, girl."

  "And Happy New Year!"

  My throat tight with extreme emotions, I hid my face behind Khiru's shoulder, and he carried me in his arms out of the Park.

  I couldn't make sense of the cheering, or my reaction to it, but this was not the time for in-depth analysis. I thought, and hoped, that my erotic ordeal was drawing to a happy end. Then again, New Year's Eve was the longest night of the year.

  In his bedroom, Khiru tied me to the bed with my limbs spread out and chained to the posts. Forgetful of proper manners, I kept moaning and squirming. My body arched to invite him inside.

  "It's not midnight yet, my love," he said gently but maliciously. "Tradition must be respected. Southies are allowed to come when the new year begins, not a second before."

  Was he joking?

  "Khiru, I can't–"

  I never finished my complaint. Khiru had straddled me and put his penis into my mouth.

  "Northies, on the other hand," he said, "may come as much as they want. And after watching all these people play with you, there's nothing I want more. So please indulge me."

  His command was elegant, but nonetheless fierce. He had never forced me to give him a blowjob before, and his unexpected, not to mention inescapable, order stunned me.

  Like always when I was too confused for thoughts, I obeyed his will, acutely conscious of diving deeper down the abyss of submission. While my thighs throbbed with unfulfilled lust, my tongue licked, my teeth grazed, and my mouth sucked the man who subjugated me.

  I swallowed a drop of pre-come and sucked harder. My hips were rising up and down in rhythm, but I controlled their frantic moves the second Khiru squeezed my breasts. I almost chocked on his engorged cock and started to hyperventilate. Khiru groaned. I closed my eyes. Then he swiftly withdrew from my mouth, and a warm, creamy fountain spurted on my chest and belly, with the last drops hitting the corner of my lips. I licked them clean and, catching my breath, waited for Khiru's next move.

  "Half an hour to go. You think you can make it?"

  No.

  "I'm sure you can. Not that you have a choice anyway. Time to reassess our progress with rule number two. Remember it?"

  I nodded. Patience. I didn't think I had any left in me. This wasn't about patience; this was torture, pure and simple.

  "Somehow, I feel you disagree, and I'm afraid I can't take any chances with you when you're angry."

  A thick resina gag illustrated his concern.

  "I brought you a special New Year's present. It's sadly ordinary on Khyra, but you will enjoy the novelty. See, it's a time-controlled double-dildo with a clitoris extension. I place the heads of the dildos in your two openings. Like ... that. And start the timer. At midnight, interesting things should happen."

  An old-fashioned ticking started. At first, nothing changed in the way the vibrators kept my anus and vagina wide open. But gradually they moved onward and penetrated me deeper and deeper. Too deep. Too thick. Too much.

  "In the meantime, I should probably clean you."

  Khiru's monologue didn't compute until he proceeded to lick my belly, then my breasts. I almost came. My sex convulsed a series of time, deceptive ex
plosions that brought me closer to climax, closer to despair.

  The front extension, progressing at the same pace as the dildos, made contact with my labia. Relentless, it moved onward, threatening to flatten my clitoris.

  "Almost clean. Your nipples need extra-work, though."

  The ticking stopped, and the timer beeped.

  "The final countdown. Ten."

  The anal dildo began to vibrate.

  "Nine. Eight."

  My clit disappeared under a plastic tongue.

  "Seven."

  The other dildo joined the dance.

  "Six. Five."

  My G-spot exploded. Twice.

  "Four. Three."

  The vibrations inside doubled. Maximum speed. We are ready for liftoff.

  "Two."

  Electroshocks on my clit. Will I go to heaven if I die in space?

  "One. Happy New Year, my love."

  Chapter TWENTY-SIX

  I had expected a roaring sound, then an abrupt slowdown. As it happened, if it weren't for the absence of engineers and pilots on the common decks, I wouldn't have noticed the awakening of the engines and the initial decelerating maneuvers. There was neither physical nor visual sensations. When the distance to the closest star is calculated in light-years, it's hard to see a difference in the passing starscape.

  But our sudden change in speed greatly affected everyone's temper on the spaceship. After almost a year of controlled passivity, the crew of the Noncha had become restless, impatient and judgmental. They criticized everything, although nothing had changed on the ship. The food was dull; the park not properly cared for; the theatre shows, boring and repetitive. While the Galleries were oddly empty, the zero-G observation decks achieved maximum popularity. People would queue to gaze at the stars, hoping to be the first one to catch sight of their home planet.

  Khyra's sun, which had already been visible for a few weeks, became brighter every day, warming up Khyrian hearts. And mine, too.

  Since the scene on New Year's Eve, I felt I had truly become a member of the Khyrian nation. It was as if the whole planet had played with me. They had accepted me; not as an observer, but as an active participant. And I had accepted their lifestyle.

  I first thought people's attitude toward me had changed. Smiles were more genuine. Jokes were cute. Nobody stared at my ears any longer. Then I realized I was the one who'd changed, as well as my perception of people and events. I fitted in. Although I still had many questions about my future Khyrian life, I no longer worried. I was comfortable and self-assured.

  However, some people seemed to have doubts about my state of mind.

  One morning, Nur, the commanding pilot who'd welcomed me on board on my day of arrival, called me onto the bridge. I joined her in the conference room, curious and eager to meet again with the woman who had given me precious words of warning about Khyrian sexlife so many months ago. It seemed both like yesterday and a lifetime away.

  After a polite exchange, Nur explained what would be expected of me on Khyra.

  Because the Global Council wanted to make a good impression and not put me off by demanding too much of my time too soon, they would give me the same break as the crew. During my first year, there would be no request for social or cultural intervention, no special vocational training and no communal work. I would be granted special consumption quotas and be free to explore the planet as I pleased.

  There was only one exception to this lack of official obligations: I was to submit to any medical exam required, in particular during the first month, and participate willingly to the new genetic program based on my DNA. Khyrians hoped that the incorporation of my healthy genome would restore the fertility of their race. Although the program would expand in a number of years, they expected I would only have to pay regular visits to genetic laboratories to provide samples. The frequency would be determined as research progressed.

  I nodded enthusiastically and confirmed my desire to cooperate. I couldn't wait to inform Khiru about our impending holiday; how many bondage scenes could you have in a year?

  Funny enough, Nur's train of thoughts had also led her to Khiru, albeit in a not so pleasant way.

  "There is one more thing I need to ask you," she said. "The Council noticed that you had turned down the offer for customized lodging on Mhoakarta. They've also noted that Khiru has requested a two-bedroom apartment. We're all aware of your relationship, but we must ask you to reconsider your decision. Provided it was your decision."

  "What do you mean? Of course it was my decision."

  She laid her hand on mine.

  "Are you sure? You might have been coerced. You don't know what to expect on Khyra, and your ignorance, maybe your fear, makes you amenable to suggestions. Especially when they come from your lover, who also happens to be a Rhysh Master."

  This was a full-frontal attack.

  "Khiru didn't try to coerce me. I want to live with him, and I don't see the point of settling into a new place if I plan to move four weeks later. I don't need to live on my own. I've done that before, trust me.

  "Besides," I added, too quickly, "Khiru respects me. He won't impose anything I would disagree with."

  "Oh, he wouldn't do it openly," Nur said, "and I agree he would let you live alone if you requested it. But remember, Rhysh graduates want more than bondage games."

  "You all make Rhysh people sound like freaks," I interrupted before she could give me the same lecture as Myhre had months before, "but you're wrong. Khiru's a Northie who's got a clue, that's all. We've been dating for months now, and guess what? He's never treated me like a slave, or even spanked me. All he does is give me mind-blowing orgasms."

  And new underwear, I added to myself, wishing I could scratch the itchy string cleaving my buttocks.

  "All right, Megan. I didn't mean to offend you. If you're happy with Khiru's plans–"

  "My plans."

  "Your plans, fine. Just remember that you can always change your mind. Khiru doesn't own you yet."

  I rose to the bait.

  "What exactly do you mean?"

  "I'm referring to ‘full submission.' It's common for Rhysh dominants to have complete legal power over their submissive. It's a serious commitment, with a long procedure. A Rhysh committee certifies the Southie's willingness, legal advisers examine the contract, and trustees, generally best friends to the couple, are appointed to make sure both partners respect the provisions."

  Why had no one told me about this before? Not that it made a difference. Despite the romantic appeal of ownership, I was a practical girl, and had no intention of becoming a true slave.

  "Do all Rhysh masters require full submission?" I asked.

  "Not all of them, no. Mainly because they don't find their match. But they all admit it's their ideal."

  "Hmm. Well, thank you for the information, Nur, but, like I said, Khiru and I have a sane relationship based on respect. I trust him to do what's right for both of us."

  "Oh, I guarantee he will."

  * * *

  After my obtuse discussion with Nur, things got boring. My friends were busy either navigating the ship or securing the samples they had collected on Earth. Even Vhar had taken time off from our morning lessons, as he wanted to complete his linguistic report before our arrival.

  Skeda, where idle people like me looked for kicks, lacked its usual vibrant buzz, and the Twilight was a shadow of its former glitzy self.

  Even Play Day, a yearly event honoring Northies, came and went without so much as a whipping scene in the Cabaret. Nobody cared. Everyone wanted to be home.

  In the middle of another quiet afternoon, Khiru surprised me by visiting the Therms. Phylla had massaged me until her arms hurt, and we were chatting about her plans for the forthcoming year.

  "Hi, Phylla," Khiru said. "Megan, come with me. There's something I want to show you."

  I got dressed and followed Khiru to the elevator. Once inside, he put a soft blindfold over my eyes.

  "And d
on't say a word," he added.

  He held my hand and guided me along busy corridors. I heard a door slide open, and we entered a much quieter place.

  The door closed behind us.

  "Arms up."

  Khiru pulled my shirt over my head, then removed my leggings and my (bright red) underwear. When I was naked, he moved away from me and dialed on a nearby mediaframe. The sounds that followed were vaguely familiar, but it wasn't until my body started drifting that I understood we were in a zero-G airlock.

  Khiru dragged me back to him and, with my feet barely touching the floor, led me into the next room. An observation deck?

  "Hands behind your back."

  Click. Handcuffs.

  More cuffs around my ankles. And another click between them.

  Khiru gently pushed my hips forward, and suddenly I was airborne.

  Unable to see where I was flying, I worried about bumping into a wall. But when I tried to bring my knees in front of me, the traction sent me spinning around like a top. Once again I cursed the absence of gravity. This was worse than my experiment with Vhar. I was on the verge of getting sick.

  "Will you stop fidgeting?" Khiru laughed as he grabbed my hips and held me still. "Relax, and you might just enjoy this."

  What I particularly enjoyed was his bare chest against my back and his stiff cock between my thighs. Khiru rarely undressed during a scene, at least not until he decided it was time to take possession of me. It was a treat to feel his flesh on mine. I stopped struggling and floated calmly again. My only contact with the world was Khiru.

  "That's it. Let go and feel."

  His fingers traced lines and curves over my legs, waist and breasts. Then he rubbed my nipples and pulled them viciously until I moaned. Releasing my breasts, he parted my thighs and inserted one finger into my anus, another into my vagina. I let out a cry, then bit my lips when he added another finger in each orifice.

  Khiru's chest drifted away from me, and I became obsessed with the combination of pain and pleasure inside me. His hands stroked, grazed and fucked me hard. Without any other point of contact to pull at or push on, I couldn't move away and remained impaled on his torturing fingers, three of them now. He gave the same harsh treatment to each hole. What caused lust in one, created distress in the other. After an unbearable spell, he became more gentle and fondled me softly. My rectum appreciated the relief, but my vagina clenched fiercely around his fingers, demanding more than just a tease. Tension was building, and I needed a serious shoving, not this mild tickling.