by Mark Andrews
“Ants are a most industrious creature,” he mused to them one day during a rest between exercise routines, “and some of them have a most painful bite. The fire ant is the most painful of them all - and I have a colony of them, here on the ship ... In a few days, you are going to be tested and if you fail, you will know what it is like to be bitten by these wonderful little pets of mine ...”
They stared at one another, horrified by his words which hinted at appalling pain without revealing any details. By now, weeks into their conditioning, they were used to such news however and although their minds raced over the possibilities, their trainer made sure they concentrated on the exercises at hand.
In this way, Akira ensured their minds were partially off-balance but also tuned to the work of the moment. Oh yes, he was certainly a master psychologist.
The day arrived. It was a week after the fateful announcement. Seven days during which they had had time to stew over the possibilities and during which they had been shown films of army ants advancing, eating all in their path; of huge bull-ants stinging and eating other insects - and of the fire ants that caused the worst pain of all. They wanted not to watch but they couldn’t and as they stood, bound in the frames watching the huge screen on the wall, both felt nauseous as they tried to imagine these tiny creatures attacking their own bodies.
The lesson was given in the gym. Davey was secured in the usual way, standing with his back to a pole and his wrists manacled behind it to watch as his former girlfriend was tortured.
The ship’s engineer had rigged a rectangular frame to dangle on four wires that came out of four winches attached to the roof and led down to the corners of the frame. Inside the rectangle were chains with single cuffs on their ends. These chains were hung on hooks at the corners and were thus adjustable.
Jill was made to lie face down on the deck of the gym and then the frame was lowered until it surrounded her and rested on the deck itself. The guards now secured each of her wrists and ankles to the cuffs and adjusted the chains until all four were tight and she was in a perfect ‘X’.
Akira now operated the winches again so that the frame rose up off the deck about six feet. She was now dangling, face down with the unsupported middle of her body bowed down, the lowest part being her so naked pudenda, of course.
Dr Kahei moved in under her, holding a honey pot in his hand and now proceeded to daub her sex and her nipples with the thick, sugary fluid, ensuring he got it right inside her naked sex lips. He then took up a huge metal syringe and injected about half a pint right into her vagina and then repeated the action into her anus.
A crew member (wearing only the frightening metal helmet and pouch over his genitals) now wheeled a flat metal tray into the gym. The tray was on a table and measured eight feet long and three wide. The tray was a foot deep and it was filled with sand. On the outsides of the lip of the tray, there was a three inch wide ‘moat’ brimming with water. Its purpose was to ensure none of the ants escaped. Inside the sand was the nest and Akira ensured proper food was provided for the colony.
The guard, being ultra careful not to allow his hands up onto the metal of the tray, wheeled it right under Jill’s body, positioning it so that all of her body was over the sand. As she stared down at it, she could see some of the ants emerging from the nest, engaged on their endless search for food.
Now, as Akira began to lower her again, in short drops, she screamed and struggled to raise her body up from the concave bow it had assumed when she was hoisted up off the floor.
“That’s right, slut. As long as you can keep your delightful cunt up off the sand, you will be safe ... but after an hour or so, you will find this rather difficult, I imagine ...”
Difficult was hardly the word. Strong and all as she was, using muscles unused to such a strain to keep her body straight against the pull of gravity, was nigh on impossible. To make matters worse, the honey, so liberally daubed onto her breasts and even more, her vagina, now dripped down onto the sand and the ant scouts had quickly discovered it. Thousands of the voracious little creatures now swarmed over the three locations - under her two breasts and her loins - mostly in the latter for both her vagina and her anus dripped great dollops of the syrupy liquid down onto the sand and here the tiny insects were in a frenzy, even rearing up towards her so close body.
But she fought hard. She was a very determined girl and she applied herself assiduously to the task, working out how to apply the least force necessary to keep the middle of her body just up off the sand.
Akira had positioned her to make this extremely difficult. If she relaxed, both her nipples as well as her belly and thighs and her actual loins would have rested on the sand. She had therefore to use the muscles in her shoulders, back, belly and thighs to keep those parts of her body up and clear of the tray.
She did too, for a long time. She stared down under her body at her breasts and her belly, watching to see she didn’t relax and allow herself to sag down. She knew all about fire ants and the utter agony they engendered in the human body. She also knew the pain was cumulative, two being worse than double one and a dozen as bad as a hundred times one.
But it was an impossible task. No-one could possibly have held out indefinitely and in her case, not knowing how long Akira intended to keep her up there, she had nothing to aim for. To just stay up there, therefore, while her aim at this moment, was quite impossible.
The first sting was horrible. It was as if she had been injected with acid - which was the truth anyway and the pain was so bad it kept her up and off the sand for another fifteen minutes.
Davey stood only feet away, watching as his love was so horribly tortured. Her salvation was in her own hands but even so, fit and all as she was, he knew she would succumb eventually and then the ants would make merry with her body, giving her a worse agony even than the electrical torture they feared so much.
And when Akira had finished with her, it would be his turn. He had no doubts his so naked cock and balls would be liberally daubed with the honey and lowered to within a few inches of the sand and then it would be up to him to keep them up off the tray.
The ants did not make merry with her body. Akira didn’t allow them to. He let her take four more of the horrible stings, each punctuated by a diminishing interval during which she managed to hoist her flagging body up off the tray once more before succumbing to muscular exhaustion.
After the last sting, Davey was released from the pole and bundled out of the gym to spend the rest of that day and night in a tiny black torture cell, alone and in total darkness to ponder his own fate but more so, how Jill was coping with the ants now, for he had no idea how long they were going to keep her there ...
The master psychologist was at work again however. As soon as he was out of sight, Jill was hoisted up clear of the tray and it was trundled out of the room.
She was now chained to a sort of capstan which was just a bar attached by a collar to one of the poles in the gym. There was a screw on this collar that could be tightened to act as a brake and once this was set so as to make it a reasonably heavy load for her, she was whipped into an endless trudge round and round the pole for the rest of the day.
She ached horribly where the five ants had stung her and she hated the feel of the honey still oozing from her front and rear orifices but she was grateful she had come through the fire-ant trial relatively unscathed.
Davey, on the other hand, sat in the total foetid darkness of the tiny cell and wondered if Jill was still hanging from the frame and if she had survived the nasty little ants. He also worried about his own impending torture.
But it didn’t come. Again using his knowledge of psychology, Akira kept him wondering. When he was brought out of the cell the next morning, his normal routine continued, exercising with Jill (who he was relieved to see was apparently none the worse for her ordeal of yesterday) and then moving to
other lessons in sex and humiliation.
This continued for another week and then as they entered the gym they saw the ant tray was back and the frame had been lowered to dangle a foot or so above it. Even the honey pot was there, sitting on a small table to the side. Both Jill and Davey stared at it in horror. Who was going to be placed on it today?
All morning they were exercised on the various pieces of equipment: the parallel and horizontal bars, the horse and the rings but every few seconds, their eyes wandered back to the frame and the tray of ants sitting in the middle of the room. Soon, they reasoned, the gymnastics would end and then one of them would be chained to the frame and lowered to within a few inches of the bed of ants - to suffer an agony of effort and apprehension as they struggled to keep their middle regions up and off the sand.
But again Akira showed his mastery of psychology and when they finished their two hour session in the gym, they were escorted out of it without a word having been said about the fire ants or the tray they lived in.
In fact it was another week before Davey had to undergo the trial - a week of horrible mental torture for him. It was indeed just as bad for him as it had been for his girl. She of course was locked to the pole as he had been to watch her suffer and then he had to lie down on the deck to be manacled to the chains inside the frame.
When the tray was wheeled in and his honey-coated genitals were lowered down to with inches of it, he went through exactly the same mental as well as physical torture Jill had. And of course he had to suffer the pain of a half dozen stings before he too was finally released some four hours later.
All these stratagems were designed for one thing, to make the pair of them compliant and obedient sex-slaves while developing their bodies to be the very best that was possible for them and at the same time teach them every known sexual technique and make them practise them until they could perform them without even thinking about it.
This was now their whole lives. Physical honing of their bodies to utter perfection; mental conditioning as slaves; and acquisition of sexual knowledge and expertise ... From dawn until well into the night, they were put through their paces, almost non-stop although it was all planned very carefully. Akira well knew that too much physical exercise is worse than none at all. Muscles need time to reform after strenuous exercise; without it, they may actually degenerate rather than develop but that time was used in other lessons, either sexual or mental, so not a minute of their waking hours was wasted.
The mental conditioning was paramount in Akira’s programme. It would be useless to develop the most perfect bodies in the world and then train them to perform as well as the most competent of houris if the slave was not willing and eager to perform for the pleasure of her (or his) master.
And so Akira and Kahei tested them constantly. The tests were sometimes obvious, sometimes not, but they were all efficient indicators of the slave trainees’ measure of acceptance of their new roles. In some, this came quickly; in others, it took a great deal of pain, discipline and humiliation before Akira was satisfied he had produced a compliant slavegirl.
The crew were used constantly in their sexual education. They had to be ready to perform any act ... any sexual act at all and for this reason, Akira had catalogued each of the crew members’ preferences and used them to teach the handsome young Americans how to perform each newly learned lesson with skill and enthusiasm.
Yasumori delighted in having his ass licked and in his fantasies imagined he owned a slave, a beautiful female slave, who performed this act on him following each time he visited the toilet. That his fantasy might ever come to fruition, he hadn’t dreamed, but when Akira had probed him and drawn out this fact, he had told him he would be used to train their slaves in this disgusting act.
Jill was first but of course Davey would also be trained in its performance.
She was forced to stand in the doorway of the crew’s latrine and watch the handsome sailor move his bowels as he stared lecherously up at her, not at all put out by her and Akira’s watching his private act. When the boy was finished, he didn’t wipe himself and she had to follow him to a small cabin that contained nothing but a narrow bed. Yasumori laid himself down on the bed and drew his knees up to his muscular chest, grinning up at the naked American girl.
Akira pushed her forward. “Get down between his legs, slut-slave. Lick him clean ...”
She was thunderstruck. So she had been brainwashed. So she had been tortured and humiliated. But she wasn’t a mindless automaton and nor would she ever be. Akira’s methods brought about obedience and a bright and willing compliance with his slaves’ new duties, not a dull lifeless stupidity and so she was perfectly able to comprehend each new horror in its fullest degree until repetition brought her to acceptance and then an apparently willing performance, even if, deep down inside her, she still loathed what she was doing.
This time, the horror was possibly the worst. The very idea of licking a man’s anus after he had just evacuated his waste was so disgusting she couldn’t imagine anything worse - not even the electrical torture or the fire ants.
But by now, she knew refusal meant the prodder to her vagina, anus and breasts and the very thought of this brought tears to her eyes and so she forced herself to move forward, climbed up onto the bed and crouched down, her nose crinkling in disgust at the foetid smell.
“Lick, slut - and show some spirit while you’re at it ...” Akira brought his cane down hard on her upraised buttocks as an encouragement and she sobbed once, but then got her mouth down at the brownish ring and began the hateful task.
Yasumori smiled in pleasure as her tongue ran round and round his puckering ring until it was clean and then she knelt up, looking back at the hated Akira.
He smiled in his hard-faced way and nodded down at the naked sailor once more. “And now get your tongue right inside him. He wants to be cleaned inside as well as out. You have an hour of hard work ahead of you, get to it ...”
She sighed. She had thought she was done but then these horrible people always had something worse just around the corner. She got her head down once more and now, holding onto the Japanese man’s beautifully muscled thighs (and deriving some pleasure from the feel of them under her hands) began to work her tongue into his anus. It was disgusting all right but the awful smell and taste gradually abated as she cleaned him thoroughly and then it became just a chore.
But when it was over at last, Akira rewarded the sailor with her body. “You will now ride him, slut. Give his cock as good a workout with your slave cunt as you just did with your tongue on his arse...”
This she didn’t mind. Not in the least. She had decided that since she was now apparently a sex-slave and since she had also realised how much she enjoyed sex - normal sex, that is, she would take these opportunities to forget her woes and enjoy the moment. Akira recognised this but he didn’t mind. His principal aim after all, after humiliating the hated Americans, that is, was to make money out of their bodies and if a sex-slave enjoyed what he or she was doing in this area, so much the better. His reputation rested on the continuing performance of his product for word of mouth is the best advertisement there is and his clients talked to one another at times ...
Yasumori lay back on the bed, his cock still hard from the anal rimming he had just enjoyed so much while the girl now climbed over his loins. Akira watched them both critically but with lust as well. He didn’t bed his employees, that would be bad for discipline but he delighted in their bodies nevertheless and when he wasn’t fucking a male slave trainee, he enjoyed looking at his younger and more athletic staff naked. Yasumori was among the best of them. He was a beautifully-bodied young man of just twenty-two and his athletic physique was everything Akira admired in a male body. He knew the boy was capable of multiple orgasms and after giving him the pleasure of being ridden by this American slut, he would enjoy watching him ride her instead ...
But he also enjoyed female bodies of course and now, looking at Jill’s as she flounced up and down on the boy’s rigid poker was something else. In the weeks she had been on the ship, her body had assumed the perfection he demanded of all his trainees. Her skin was lightly tanned to a perfect golden hue and the definition of her fine muscles was second to none. As she bounced up and down on his body, her firm breasts, not too big but perfect half grapefruits in size and with the texture of cream over warm marble, jiggled in time with her body, following its up and down motions but a second or so behind them.
She had been taught to show her body off provocatively at these times and did so now, raising her hands up behind her head, arching her torso and then her neck and head back, twisting her upper body and head this way and that to show off her athletic muscles to advantage but all in time with the jerking up and down of her body, impaled so wonderfully on Yasumori’s iron-hard cock.
She was enjoying this act. Unlike the other one that had been so disgusting, this one was quite wonderful ... The boy below her had a fabulous body and he was handsome, too. By now she had put out of her mind that she had been going to marry Davey - or Akira had brainwashed it out. She still loved him every time she saw him during their exercise sessions together or when one was tortured in front of the other, but new considerations and emotions had now overtaken that love and sex was the primary one. Sex with anyone Akira decided for her.
She no longer questioned his right to do so and even her hate for him had now abated considerably, being replaced by a sort of numb acceptance that he was her master. Neither good nor bad, but a man to be obeyed at all costs.
He watched her now, admiring her muscular buttocks and thighs as they continued to bounce her up and down on Yasumori’s cock. Oh yes, she was a fine figure of lithe athleticism all right. He didn’t think they could improve her body any more. The exercises for both of them would now move into maintenance mode, allowing more time for sex training and mental conditioning.
