13 – Tour of a Slave Training Castle
House Shaden was a castle, there was no other word for it. Build of massive stones, perched atop a cliff overlooking a winding river, and looking as if it had withstood the battering of armies for hundreds of years. Which it probably had, from what I could tell of the violent history of Kronos. And it was huge, spreading out along the cliff edge for a considerable distance on both sides. Not more than a hundred yards off was an obviously newer complex including a small landing pad, air transports and a fair number of land transports. I gave a good look to those air transports for some of them seemed to be armed. If I were involved in trying to make a fast getaway, they would have to figure into my plans.
I pulled into the large parking lot before what seemed to be the main entrance and parked the transport. The thunderstorms of yesterday had departed, leaving the sky clear and the day warming up as if it wanted to become really hot. There a dozen transports already there, and a few more coming down the road. Fairly busy place, I noted. Which can be an advantage or a disadvantage to covert operations.
Inside the air of less humid, cooler and somehow cleaner. The human noses gets used to an alien planet pretty fast. Ancient the castle may appear on the outside, it was modem inside, complete with air conditioning and computers. The front desk was at least five yards long and made of a single plate of thick glass. Seated behind it was a lovely woman who I first thought was naked but found as I neared her was wearing a very brief loincloth of flesh tone. And high heels of black patent leather, a strange combination but not unpleasant at all. Her ankles were joined by thin golden chain with enough links so that she would have no trouble walking normally although the links would swirl on the floor with each step. Her wrists were similarly joined, again with a fair amount of distance between them. Obviously symbolic bondage rather than functional.
“Hello,” she said with a wonderfully husky voice. “I’m slave Lelana. How may I help you?”
“I have an appointment to see your training facilities,” I told her. “I talked to a Mr. Derek Troll yesterday.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call him.”
She touched a key on the pad before her. Then we waited, her smiling very professionally at me and I enjoying the view through the glass and wondering if there was anything under the loincloth. Couldn’t be much if there was. I wondered what I could do to get her to stand up and walk away from me when a man suddenly appeared beside me. Maybe that’s why they have a sexy receptionist, so they can sneak up on your while you’re admiring her assets.
He introduced himself and I gave him my name and we shook hands. I could tell he was sizing me up. Hope I looked enough like a wealthy slaver to fool him. I was wearing one of the traditional costumes for slavers: black leather pants (a little too tight), a metallic red silk long sleeved shirt, and an open black leather vest. The blaster holstered on my right hip seemed to fit right in with the short riding crop hanging from my left hip. I noticed him eye the blaster but he didn’t say anything about it.
“If you’ll come this way, I’ll show you some of the facilities,” he said with a smile. He was smooth, I’ll give him that. But I wouldn’t buy a used transport from him.
I followed him around the glass table (glancing backwards to confirm that there was no back to the loincloth), and down a corridor done in ancient stone and lined with equally ancient paintings in niches. “The House Shaden has a long and glorious history on this planet,” he informed. Lecture number one-B, from the sound of it. “When Kronos finally was united and the warring clans ceased the almost constant warfare, House Shaden turned to the new institution of off-planet slavery. And they became the leading house in their endeavors to both procure and train the finest slavegirls in the galaxy.”
I endured the sales pitch because we had come to the first of the training rooms and more interesting subjects were available for my attention. The first room held three girls, all basic human stock without some of the unusual skin shades you find on worlds where human didn’t originate. Each was naked and shackled with what looked like modifications to the same handcuffs I used back at the ship. Their wrists were locked behind them, and the ankles were connected by a short three links of chain, which would have made walking a frustrating exercise in shuffling. They wore collars of metal with chains coming down the back to their wrist shackles. Each was locked behind the bars of a tiny cage, all three in a row so that the girls couldn’t see each other. Each was gagged with one of those plastic ball gags. Perhaps that was so they couldn’t talk to each other. Or maybe, I figured, just to add to their torment.
They were fine looking women, I had to admit that, all young, firm of body and very sexy. Two of them looked at us nervously while the third curled up her lip in a silent snarl. I recognized the wild spirit in that one, having seen enough of it in our own Red.
“Our raider ships chose only the finest raw material from the best worlds, sometimes going out thousands of parsecs,” he lectured. “These girls are fresh recruits, just beginning their training.”
That’s the word he used: recruits, as if they had signed up for a tour of duty as a slave.
“In this next room you will see some of the initial punishments given a new girl. Our first phase is simply to punish her for long periods of each day, and for no reason other than to show her that we can and will cause her pain. That is their first lesson in House Shaden.”
There were two slaves in the next room. One was sitting astride a wooden beam and the other hung upside down by her ankles. A man was methodically whipping her bottom with a short whip and her cries of anguish filled the stone room. I stepped up for a closer look at the two trainees. This was interesting. The first girl was a lovely young thing with short clipped blonde hair and lovely, long muscular legs. She seemed to be in considerable pain and at first I couldn’t figure out why. She was merely sitting on a wooden beam with her legs spread wide and tied down to rings in the floor. Her arms had been pulled behind her and up by her shoulder blades and bound there with thin rope. She was crying but the tightness of the ropes didn’t seem enough to justify the tears, at least not from my experience. Then I saw that the wooden beam her bare sex was sitting on was not a square or round beam, but a triangular one, and one sharp edge was pointed up. I shuddered to think how that must have hurt the girl to have all her weight resting on that sharp edge. No wonder the tears!
The other girl was a few years older and had what must have been fine looking breasts, very large ones, but a pair that looked funny now because she was hanging by her ankles. Her wrists were bound together and then tied down to a ring in the floor directly under her. Rather tightly to judge from the strain apparent in her arms. Those massive breasts hung down (up?), almost touching her face. She was gasping and crying loudly each time the whip impacted upon the fleshy bottom. A closer look revealed that her rear had not been the only target. Vivid red marks and welts criss-crossed her thighs both front and rear all the way up to her knees.
The soft sobs of the girl riding the sharp edge of wood were a strange counterpart to the loud cries and screams of the hanging girl. As we watched, the man came around to the other side and cut loose with a slash across her breasts. They jiggled wildly at the cut and she screamed a little louder. He then began marking up her breasts, a task that would take him longer than the bottom had since there was more territory to cover.
The next room held a device I recognized from one of the old movies, a rack. That was a wooden platform with a bar at one end and a windlass at the other. The victims ankles were bound to the bar and the hands tied together and then up to the windlass. When the barrel was turned, the rope coiled upon on it and pulled the arms. There was a ratchet so the windlass could be clicked one notch at a time and hold taunt the unfortunate victim. In this case, the victim was a former citizen of Cha’Kaa, I could tell from the golden color of her skin and the shape of the ears. Her body was stretched out along the rack and had apparently been that way for some time. It looked as if every muscle in her body was taunt. The breasts were flatten by the stress of her body trying to become longer than it was, and she was moaning softly. I saw that she was gagged, and there were tear tracks along her cheeks and bare arms. A man came in and put his powerful arms on the spokes of the windlass. Leaning into the task, he moved the spokes until there was a clicking sound, followed by a increased whine of distress. The young woman seemed to be having trouble breathing, and I guessed that was one of the effects of stretching the female body beyond reasonable limits.
“How long has she been like that?” I asked casually.
“I would guess only a few hours,” he replied. “The pulley is taken up an additional turn every fifteen minutes.”
“Until…?”
“Until the pulley can no longer be tightened. Oh, we don’t really try to pull the slaves apart,” he laughed. “We just create a situation of considerable and constant pain by stretching the body and limbs in this manner.”
“She seems to have fainted,” I commented.
“They often do. She’s come around in a few minutes. Sometimes the pain combined with the difficulty breathing becomes a bit too much for the girls. But we don’t let that last long. An unconscious female is one who is not learning her lesson for that day.”
“Right.”
We went on.
I’ll stop for a moment right now and admit something. If you promise not to tell anyone else, I’ll admit that the scenes before me were turning me on. I was finding out that the restriction of and tormenting of female bodies is an aphrodisiac. Exciting, wonderful stuff. The whip kissing that hanging girl’s body had created a tightness in my leather pants that was rather uncomfortable. Of course, not as uncomfortable as it was for her. This feeling was not new to me, I had experienced it before, even the first time that Eddie had locked the Wolfhome girls into handcuffs, and much more so when she whipped their asses. I had not taken slave Michelle to bed without her being well tied and in some kind of pain, even though I didn’t have to. She would have allowed me to screw her. That said a lot about my discovery of an highly erotic and exciting world.
Having admitted to some sadist in me, I now continue my description of House Shaden.
We visited several more training rooms. In each one or more young, curvy, sexy females were being subjected to various kinds of torture. One young thing that couldn’t have been more than sixteen was hanging by her thumbs with her toes only an inch above the floor. Might as well have been a mile from the stones for all the good it did her. Another young teenager was being beaten lightly on the soles of her upturned feet as she lay on the harsh concrete floor. Her arms were bound behind her and her legs turned up at the knees and the ankles bound to a horizontal metal pipe. A man was slowly beating the bottoms of her feet with thin metal rods. He did it slowly and not apparently very hard but the girl cried out each time he struck. My host informed me that this procedure had been ongoing for two hours already and would continue for a couple more. The girl would, he assured me, be screaming with each light tap by the end of that time. And unable to walk for a few days.
There were other tortures but you get the idea. Only once did I see a girl who I felt was from Wolfhome. She was one of the advanced trainees, and wore a costume of nearly transparent blue silk that covered her from hips down to ankles, tighter at the top and bottom, and looser between. Her wrists were joined together in front and her ankles bore slender silver chains. At the moment we came upon her, she was kneeling before one of the male guards. As we stood there, she unfastened the front of his pants, extracted his penis, and leaned forward to place it in her mouth. The guard remained stern faced and unemotional during the procedure, although it did appear to me that his rod was growing in size under her loving attention.
“After reducing each slave to a state of total obedience and submission,” my host droned on, “they are trained in all the know arts of sexual pleasure. Both for male masters and female mistresses.”
I would be lying if I said that all those sights did not effect me. Truth is I was horny as hell after the tour. And grateful for the tightness of those pants. I guessed that why slavers usually wear either tight leather garments or flowing robes. Hides embarrassing bulges.
The tour ended in a room that I guessed was not far from the main entrance. I have a good sense of direction and could follow our path fairly well. I guessed that this room would be the last on the tour, and that maybe my host would expect an answer then. And I was ready.
But not for the final demonstration of their merchandise. The room was done in shades of brown, wood paneled walls, beams in the ceiling, and plush carpet underfoot. There were several comfortable chairs around a low table, what they used to call a “coffee table” in the old movies. Derek Troll opened a cabinet and punched the a button on the console within. “May I offer you a drink?” he asked politely.
“Scotch,” I said. I figured if I were lucky, I’d get some Drobb scotch, a brand usually out of range of my budget. And the Drobb system wasn’t too far from Kronos, so it wouldn’t be hard for them to import the stuff. He handed me an old fashioned glass filled with amber liquid and a couple ice cubes. I sipped and was surprised to find how very smooth the scotch was. A second sip and there were subtle flavors dancing around my tongue. “This isn’t…”
“It is Terran scotch,” he said casually.
I sipped again and enjoyed the fire as it washed down my throat. No wonder the stuff cost so much. Pure nectar.
“As I’m sure you’ve seen, we have the finest facilities to train any slave, both in obedience and the pleasure arts. Please sit down.”
The chair caressed by body in its leather softness.
“And I’m sure you noted that we do not employ any of the drug and electro conditioning some worlds do. We do things the old fashioned way, with the whip and steel hand. We feel that a slavegirl is better trained that way.” He clapped his hands.
A curtain parted and into the room came a tall, dark haired girl dressed in silks of faded russet. She walked on high heels and swayed delightfully as she came forward. I was enjoying the sight of a fine body not very well hidden behind a pair of diaphanous harem girl pants and vest open in front. As she came closer, I realized that if she wasn’t one of the Wolfhome captive girls, she could certainly pass for one. Her wrists were encircled by slender bands which were joined by a delicate silver chain. It didn’t hamper her any, as with the receptionist, it was more of a badge of office. She knelt before me and touched her face to the carpet in utter submission. Then she straightened, stuck out those lovely breasts and asked, “May I pleasure you, Master?”
Under ordinary circumstances I would have wholeheartedly agreed that, indeed, she was welcome to do just that. Just lay back and spread your legs, sweet one. But this was one of the girls I had come to try and rescue, and that cast a little different light on the possibility. Besides there was this Troll guy standing there with a silly grin on his face. I’m not in the habit of performing my sexual indulgences before an audience.
“She has been trained to perform a large number of sexual acts…” he offered. “She is quite good with her mouth and tongue… And she’s trained to make a normal screwing very pleasurable for the man. Or if you wish to take her in the rear…?”
The girl leaned forward and gently kissed my leather pants — right on the bulge. A shiver raced down my spine. I sucked in breath and fought a loosing battle to find a reason why I shouldn’t take them up on the very kind offer. After all, she was trained to do exactly this. And it would be an insult in some cultures to refuse a girl when she’s offered to you. I had heard that on Lettanius V they will cut off your dong if you don’t use it when a man offers you his wife. Or was it daughter? Whatever. I didn’t want to give insult here on Kronos.
Getting the leather pants part way down was a bit of a struggle but the girl helped me. Then she gently guided me to lean back in the chair and shift my hips forward. Once positioned, she took my rigid rod in her hands and guided it towards those lovely lips. I sighed as her soft mouth enfolded my member.
A part of me said that I was only being buttered up for a sale, and that real Earth scotch and a very obliging and lovely female slavegirl were only part of that sale pitch. The silver chain joining her wrists jingled as she worked her magic on me. It wasn’t long before I could feel the buzz telling me that I was about to climax. Audience or no, that girl was so damned good that I couldn’t help myself. It didn’t help that the sight of all those gorgeous naked female slaves being trained had worked me up into a high state of readiness. I tried not to make much noise as I climax but I did hear a loud moan of pleasure that I think came from me. She expertly sucked me dry and licked my tool clean before backing off to kneel once again on the floor. She sat on her heels, back straight, hands resting beside her, and head bowed, a perfect picture of submission.
I hustled my pants back up. Trying not to look too sheepish (or pleased), I thanked Mr. Troll for the demonstration, and agreed that she was, indeed, very well trained. Part of my mind was wondering if Michelle could be trained as well but then she was rather docile to begin with. Too easy. Maybe Red…?
But back to business.
“Is this slave from Wolfhome?” I asked.
One eyebrow shot up. “You know about the planet called Wolfhome?” he asked.
“Know about it? I have three raws captured there only a week ago.”
For the first time he seemed flustered. “I had been assured that we were the only ones who knew the location of that world,” he finally managed to get out.
“Well, there’s two of us now.” I tried not to sound cocky. Mostly I wanted to talk about slaves from Wolfhome to find out if Princess Adrianne was still there and perhaps available. “I have three in my ship. I was looking to have you train them since I don’t have the facilities or the knowledge. I was told you people are the best.”
The flattery seemed to calm him down. “That is true. As you can see, we can certainly train even warrior women such as those from Wolfhome.”
“Do you have any ready for sale?”
“This girl is available,” he said eagerly, a salesman smelling a sale.
“Others? I like them,” I said honestly. “But they are hard to train, aren’t they? They hate men and are used to fighting.”
“We can train any female,” he said stiffly. “As to others, there are some who’s training is coming to conclusion.”
“Perhaps we could make a trade… My three raws for one trained one?” I could see the dollar signs ringing up behind his eyes. That would be a very good trade for them. It doesn’t cost them much to do the actual training, and in a month or two they’d have three high priced slavegirls to replace the one I walked away with.
“That could be done,” he agreed. “Provided that you raws are of quality…?”
I took out a holocube and set it down on the low table. I clicked it one and settled back to sip some more of that fine scotch. The cube glowed and then projected its image into the air above it. The holographic projection was of my three clients, all wearing their slave shackles and all naked. I had recorded the cube before leaving the ship. Each image was three feet tall, about half life size. Each girl turned slowly, glaring at the camera as if they didn’t wish to obey. Thala actually snarled at one point. They put on a good show. The projection was very life-like, you could count all the fading and fresh whipmarks on their bodies.
I could see Troll almost drooling. They were fine specimens and he was eager to get his hands on them.
“I’m sure that Shaden will approve of such an exchange,” he finally said.
I casually waved towards the cube. “You can keep that to show him. Shaden is the boss?”
“The head of House Shaden is always called The Shaden or just Shaden. Tai Harra Shaden is the current Shaden.” He paused in the family history to wave a hand towards the girl kneeling on the floor. “I’m sure that you will be very happy with this one. You can sell her for a very good price… Or keep her for your personal use.” He positively leered.
“I would like to see what other trained Wolfhome girls you have,” I said.
“They are all fine merchandise,” he offered. “I’m sure that you will find this one to be the best.”
“Well, perhaps. But still I’d like to see the other merchandise. If you have a girl that I like and she’s not fully trained yet, I can wait.”
Once again he was all business. “I would suggest that you bring your raws over and if they’re as good as the projection suggests, then we’ll let you have your pick of the others.”
“Good enough,” I said good naturedly. Apparently he wasn’t going to trot them out right then for my approval. Which was too bad. I tried one more time to find out if the Princess was there. “Have you sold any of the Wolfhome slaves yet?”
“No. Several are trained and will be sold shortly. This one, for example. Others are in various stages of training.”
That sounded good. If none had been sold, then the Princess should still be there.
The rest was anticlimactic (literally for me). We made an appointment for me to bring out my raws that afternoon and I was shown out, politely but firmly. The only additional piece of information I learned was as Troll walked away from me. I had noticed that the guard wore swords. Which made me wonder. That was either for decoration or something else. The something else was confirmed when I noticed the small square pack attached to his belt in the small of his back: a personal defense shield. I walked slowly back to my transport, thinking furiously.
This was not going to be easy. The place was a fortress, well armored and manned by numerous guards. It might have been mainly to keep slaves from escaping but it also could be to keep would be rescuers from getting in. And those guards were equipped with personal shields, I was sure of it. That explained the swords. With blasters being very common, and leather or metal armor being useless against them, another form of defense had to be thought of. The personal shields were that defense. When activated, they surrounded the wearer with a force field that deflected blaster beams. An army could come blasting in and they’d get cut down. Literally. An energy weapon couldn’t penetrate but a slow, physical blade could. Hence the swords.
On the drive back, a plan was forming in my mind. Not a great one, but the best I could come up with.
“That’s a stupid plan!” declared Captain Eddie. “You want to take the girls right into a fortress full of slave trainers, naked and shackled, and the only one with a weapon will be you? And then hope you can take the head man prisoner and trade him for all the Wolfhome girls!”
“More or less,” I agreed. “I was assured that Shaden himself would be there to look over my raws,” I paused to nod to the three girls who sat at the table with us. “If I can get him, I’m sure he’ll be glad to trade his life for a few slaves. If not, then I’ll turn him over to you three. Maybe you can persuade him.”
Thala’s lip curled up in a silent snarl and I knew that those three would love to get their hands on the man who had kidnapped their Princess. I felt better that they were on my side. And that they were still chained up.
“Are you sure that the Princess is there?” asked Fauna. “Did you see her?”
“No. I saw four different girls who looked like they were from Wolfhome, but none was the Princess. I know what she looks like, I studied those videos you gave me of her. But he did say that they hadn’t sold any girls yet. She has to be there.”
“And what are you going to do if you can’t grab him? Just go ahead and give them the girls?” Eddie sounded very disbelieving. And very concerned for my three clients.
“No, I won’t do that.” I was firm in that belief but couldn’t really say how I would guarantee it. Which left the two of us staring at each other. It was Thala who decided the matter.
“I can think of no better plan,” she said quietly. “And I doubt any of you can, either. Therefore I say that we will do as Adjustor O’Connor says. I am willing to risk my life for my Princess.” Rhonda and Fauna nodded in silent agreement.
Eddie sighed loudly. But she didn’t protest.
“We’ll leave in about two hours,” I told them, taking charge. I knew that this operation had to have one firm leader, and I was the logical choice. Eddie couldn’t march into that place with the girls in tow, those men just wouldn’t want to deal with a woman. Besides, I had a different task for her.
“Captain?” I said to get her attention. “When you were in the Academy, did you go over ground attack training?”
“Of course.”
“Well, then I’ve got a part for you in this caper. And a few other things I want to fix up before we go. Here’s a drawing of the layout of that place. This is the landing pad for air transports and here’s were the ground transports are parked. And here’s what I want you to do…”
The briefing went on. The couple other things I wanted to fix took almost an hour. Couching the girls in their parts and making sure that they would take orders from me once we were inside took another hour. Then it was time to go.
Eddie and I changed the restrains from handcuffs to rope binding their arms very tightly behind them. It was customary for slaves being transported to be bound with very tight, thin cord and with the elbows together behind them. It not only keeps them from using their hands and arms, but also was painfully uncomfortable. And a slavegirl in constant pain is much easier to handle. These were supposed to be raw slaves from a warrior culture, anything less in the way of restraints would look funny.
But I did a few things to the bindings before escorting them down to the transport. Their ankles were kept locked in the standard leg-irons.
As we pulled into the parking place and I shut down the engine, I turned to the girls. None of us felt much like smiling. I’d been in a few fire fights and knew the sour feeling in the pit of your stomach that fear brings. Maybe the girls felt that too. Or maybe the only thing on their minds was rescuing the Princess. I faced possible death from sword point or blaster beam, but they faced a lifetime of slavery. And I had told them what I saw inside that place, they knew it would be no picnic.
I inserted a ball gag into their mouths (normal transportation procedure) and patted each one on the shoulder in encouragement. Then I locked a chain to their leg-irons so that they could walk in single file line only and about three feet apart. Also standard procedure. I checked my weapons and we were ready.
Derek Troll met us at the receptionist area. He was all smiles when he saw the girls. Each of them was at least as beautiful as the one who had… ah, serviced me, and he seemed to be very pleased. He led us into the last room of the tour and we waited for the big man to come.
As we waited my three clients shifted about uneasily on chain linked ankles and looked about nervously. They had been tied with elbows joined behind them for about an hour and the strain was showing. These were big girls, not small, delicately built women, and having their arms pulled so tightly behind them was uncomfortable from the first minute and growing worse. But no slaver would ever have transported three large, warrior female raws in anything less. Many, in fact, would have bound them then locked them inside one of those maximum security boxes.
Tai Harra Shaden came in, followed by Derek Troll who was leading a couple Wolfhome girls by a leash to their neck collars. Each girl was dressed in black leather briefs (sort of like the old fashioned bikini bottoms but very tight), high heels and an arm binder that consisted of a leather sheath that covered the arms from fingertips to just below the shoulders. The arm binders were laced up tightly until their elbows were forced together, had straps buckled over the laces, and had two more straps going over the shoulders to keep the whole thing from being pulled down. The whole outfit displayed their bodies to best advantage. As soon as the group reached us and stopped, both girls sank to their knees where they waited humbly. Their eyes had been turned down as they walked in and I didn’t think they saw my three Wolfhome girls.
My girls sucked in air and I was glad that I had gagged them or they might have said something that would give away the whole show right there and then.
After introductions and pleasantries, Shaden looked over my girls. They glared at him and I think would have spit in his face if they hadn’t been gagged. At the moment I was also glad that their arms were tightly bound behind them and their feet shackled. They looked as if they wanted to tear this man apart with their bare hands. And I think they could have, too, even though he was a large man and solidly built.
“You have fine raws here,” he said with a smile. “Where did you get them?”
It was my turn to smile. “Probably the same place you got yours. From the factory, so to speak.”
“Then you know where their home world is? I had thought only we knew that.”
“Secrets are impossible to keep,” I said sagely. “But if it’s any consolation, my source stumbled onto the planet accidentally. There’s no leak in your organization.”
He seemed glad to hear that. Turning to the two kneeling slavegirls, he waved a hand in invitation. “These two are fully trained. You may chose either and be happy.”
One of the two was the same girl who gave me the demonstration earlier that day. But neither of them were the Princess.
“I believe you have others,” I said. “Could I see them?”
“Their training is not yet complete. Surely you would prefer one of these?”
“I would prefer to see what is available. I could easily wait until the training is completed. But I have a client who wishes a special slave. These Wolfhome girls come close to what he wants. Perhaps if you have one who is a little taller? Of more regal appearance than these?” I knew I was taking a chance almost asking for the Princess that way, but I had to take the gamble. I had to make sure the Princess was there before I made my move. I sure could have used some of that Terran scotch to calm my nerves about then.
Shaden thought for a few seconds, then lifted one bushy eyebrow. “Very well, we will show you the others. But there is very little difference — they are all first rate.”
There was a tiny beep from Shaden’s belt. “Please excuse me,” he muttered and went to a wall communication console. With restrained anger her punched a key. “What is it! I’ve told you not to disturb me when I’m with a client.”
I could just make out the voice telling him, “It is important! The Emperor is coming! He wishes to see that Wolfhome Princess for himself.” .
Shaden’s lips moved and I was sure it was a curse. “When?” he snarled. “He’s here,” replied the nervous voice. This time Shaden muttered several curses out loud. “Have someone bring her here and then show him in,” he ordered then banged his fist against the console.
Returning to me, he offered an apology. “A very important matter has come up, an important visitor. Troll here will be glad to show you the stock we have. I cannot accompany you.”
There was a strange mixture of both fear and greed in this man’s eyes. Thinking fast, I came to the conclusion that this Emperor was important (they usually are dictators in aggressive cultures such as this one), and that he hoped to sell the Princess to him, either for a large price or to curry special favors from the head man of the planet. I wondered if this was going to screw our plans or maybe help us.
“Did I hear that you’re bringing one of the Wolfhome slaves here?” I asked innocently. “I would like to see her.”
“This one is not for sale,” he said quickly. “Troll will be happy to show you all that are available. If you will follow him. Troll, show Mr. O’Connor the holding cell where he can store his raws. And get these two out of here.”
Before the orders could be obeyed, a door opened and in came the head man himself. Actually, he didn’t look all that important, just an average sized man dressed in a semi-military type uniform, bedecked with medals and fancy braid. Two aides walked behind him, their uniforms much plainer, indicating to me that they were body guards. That was confirmed by both huge blasters and swords on their hips. More complications. Maybe this wasn’t going to work out at all.
“Your Majesty!” cried Shaden, sinking down to one knee. “Welcome to House Shaden.”
I noticed that Troll was also kneeling on one knee. The Emperor looked at me with disdain, so I bowed my head slightly as a salute. He sneered but, recognizing me as an off-worlder, accepted that.
“You told me you had an exceptional slave to show me,” he said in a surprisingly high voice. “We are ready to inspect this one.”
“Yes, your Majesty. She is coming,” Shaden said, rising to his feet. “I’ll just get this customer out and we can get on with it.”
We were again interrupted by a door opening. This time it was a guard. At the end of the leash in his hand was a Wolfhome girl, one a little taller and even more impressive of figure than those already in the room. And that was saying a lot. As she came closer I heard a gasp from behind me. My clients had recognized their Princess before I did. They would have stepped forward had I not motioned them back.
For a long second the scene seemed frozen, no one moving or saying a word. Having been an adjustor in some messy situations helps a man know when to strike and when not to. If I had scripted the scene, I couldn’t have done better. Here was a man much more important than Shaden, here was the Princess, and here we were. Time to move.
Without seeming to hurry, I pulled my blaster from my left hip holster and pointed it as the two body guards. I caught the first one before his hand could move for his own weapon. The narrow blue-white beam of light struck him squarely in the chest, burning a neat hole there. He was dead before he began falling backwards.
The second body guard had his blaster half out of his holster. I swung my weapon around and snapped two quick shots in his direction. The first hit him in the shoulder. The second missed, going between his arm and body. But the first had been enough. His arm went lifeless and the blaster fell from his fingers to the floor. A third shot directly to the head put him out of action. Permanently.
Several things happened at once after that. The first to react correctly was the guard who had brought in the Princess. One hand went down to his belt, touched it and suddenly there was a crackling sound like a giant zipper, and he was surrounded by a pale blue glow — his personal defense shield. Less than a second later Troll was surrounded by the same glow, and Shaden right after him. The Emperor was the last to activate his shield.
My blaster was now useless. Those shields would absorb the energy. My hand went down to my own belt and before anyone else could draw a blaster, I was surrounded by a shield too. I could hear the hum of the tiny generator and saw everything through a faint azure haze. My skin tingled, but that was normal effect of the shields.
No one could use a blaster but there were other weapons. The first guard had already drawn his sword and was advancing upon me, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Troll backed off but then reached for a dagger attached to his belt. Shaden hissed at me and moved to place himself between me and the Emperor, the latter having begun taking backward steps to get out of danger. Shaden also drew a very wicked looking dagger.
I should have been dead meat. There were four men with bladed weapons and my blaster was useless against them. I holstered it and went for my secret weapon in the other holster.
The most danger was from the guard who had brought in the Princess. While the others stood in defensive postures, he was advancing with the intent to skewering yours truly. Or maybe hacking me to pieces, it was a double bladed sword.
But I wasn’t about to allow this to happen. I have a fondness for keeping my body in one piece and the skin intact. My right hand came up, and lined up the weapon squarely at the approaching man. He must have thought it was another blaster for a sneer curled up his lip and he kept on coming, obviously feeling completely safe behind his shield. I squeezed the trigger and a loud boom suddenly filled the room.
The guard was thrown backwards. A 45 caliber slug does that to a man. I swung the automatic around to cover the other men. They were staring in disbelieve at the mess I had made of the guard. The bullet had made a small hole going in but a big one going out.
“Drop your knives!” I ordered. They didn’t. “This is a projectile weapon,” I explained in a loud voice so they would be sure to hear it over the hum of their shields. “It propels a lead slug by chemical explosion. It is not energy, so it will go through a shield. And it travels fast enough to do a lot of damage. Now drop those knives.”
They looked at each other, at the ancient Earth weapon in my hands and then at their Emperor who was looking very frightened and not even going for the sword at his side. I could see in their eyes that defending the Emperor was more important to them then their lives, which made them dangerous to me. They probably thought that this was an attempt on the Emperor’s life.
“I do not wish to harm the Emperor,” I told them. “I only came for certain slave girls you have. Give them to me and let me leave, and you all will live.”
Couldn’t make it any plainer than that, could I? Still it took them several long seconds to realize that I held all the cards. What finally decided them was when I pointed out that I could have killed the Emperor already if I wanted to. They laid down their knives.
“Now turn off your shields.” They did. That made me feel better.
I turned off my shield. Those things make your skin get all itchy after a few minutes and I never have liked them. With the automatic in one hand, I touched another portion of my belt. The tiny radio sensitive explosive threads I had woven into the ropes binding my clients arms flared for a fraction of a second, then the ropes parted in numerous places. A second later each of the girls was jerking the last of the ropes off and grinning wickedly. I tossed Thala the key for their leg-irons and she went to work freeing their feet.
All three men before me stared in disbelieve at the sight of a slaver freeing three Amazons slaves. But disbelief turned to fear when the girls picked up swords and advanced to take up positions around our captives.
“Now you’re going to obey some orders or I’ll let these girls have their way with you,” I told them. “And they’ve seen all the whip marks on their Princess. I’m sure that there is no love in their hearts for you.”
I noticed that the girls had armed themselves even before they unbuckled and pushed out the ball gags from their mouths — warrior thinking. They were working their jaws to get out the stiffness but glaring at the three men before us.
“Shaden, you get on that communications device. Order that all the Wolfhome slaves be brought to this room. Tell them you wish to show them to the Emperor. And no tricks. I’ll be standing right next to you with this gun in your ribs. And Thala will be standing next to your Emperor with a sword in her hand.”
He didn’t want to but had no choice. By the time he had given the orders, I could see that his fear for the Emperor’s (and his own) life was being replaced by the fear of loosing a great many very costly slaves.
Slowly the girls trickled into the room. Theta had removed the leather sheath from the Princess’ arms and the others had burned off the shackles from the two girls kneeling. I had all the girls hide out of sight of the doorway, and Shaden stand there to take possession of each girl as she was delivered. That way the guards making the deliveries couldn’t see all those slavegirls running around with no shackles or other restraints upon them.
The funny part was that the Princess just stood there, apparently in a daze. But then she had just been through almost two months in incredibly brutal training. I figured that later, after we were all safely out of there, she could thank me for saving her ass.
The girls came in secured in various restraints. Some were shackled with handcuffs and leg-irons, but many were bound with rope, and one was locked into a very tight leather straitjacket. Fauna and Rhonda took charge of freeing each girl as she came in, untying what they could, burning off anything that they didn’t have the key for. Some of the girls were in such bad condition that they could hardly stand. After having seen their “training” in person, I could understand why.
Finally there were twenty-three girls standing around, looking both happy and afraid. That was not counting the three I brought in with me, who were looking very triumphant. Shaden announced that all where present.
Theta shoved the point of her sword under his chin, forcing his head back and drawing a little blood. “There were twenty-nine warriors taken from our world,” she hissed. “Where are the rest?”
He had difficulty talking without moving his chin, “Three didn’t take well to the training. Sold them to a brothel that didn’t care if the girls were tied down all the time. A few died. There are always some loses when you train them this way. Ouch! That’s the truth! These are all that are left.”
I pulled out my communicator and thumbed it on. “O’Connor to Golden Girl,” I said into the mike. “Ready for pickup.” A tiny voice acknowledge my message.
As we waited, Fauna and Rhonda amused themselves by stripping Troll and the Emperor naked and hogtying them with some of the rope still warm from slavegirl bodies. Thala looked like she was ready to slit Shaden’s throat. I touched her on the arm and suggested that she not do anything extreme right then.
“Piss on that!” she said through clenched teeth. “This asshole deserves much worse than death for what he has done to the Princess.”
“Shaden,” I addressed to him. “In the future, should you consider another raid on Wolfhome, I would suggest you remember this moment and how close you are to death. Or worse. That planet will be getting modem orbital defenses specifically designed to prevent a slaver raid. No more Wolfhome women will become slaves. And if anyone from your world should even try, I’ll personally lead a team of these girls back here to deal with you.”
I made that little speech without heat or anger in my voice. Perhaps that made him realize that I was telling the truth. When the sword lowered a bit, he nodded acquiescence. Thala then turned him over to Fauna and Rhonda for stripping and hogtying.
What I had been waiting for then happened. The building shook, followed by a muffled thud. A second later my communicator beeped.
“That’s the signal, let’s go!” I ordered.
While Fauna and Rhonda, armed with shields, blasters and swords, began escorting all the former slavegirls towards the entrance and outside, Thala stayed behind. When the last girl was gone, she told me to leave.
“What are you planning?” I asked even though I was pretty sure I knew.
“I’m going to make sure these bastards loose interest in slavegirls.”
The Emperor began to whine, Troll gasped, and Shaden turned pale.
“This is an aggressive culture,” I told her. “A warrior race. What you propose would create a vendetta, a blood feud, of this. These men could not let that insult stand.” I looked her straight in the eye. “Right now, this is a financial loss to them. And an embarrassment. But they’ll get over that. You do what you’re thinking and it will become much more.”
“But they tortured my Princess!” she said with heat. “They tortured her!”
“Yes. But we have come in here, killed guards, blasted their defenses, destroyed transports, and taken a fortune in valuable merchandise from them. Isn’t that enough?”
Thala glared at me. Then, almost in a whisper, she said, “No, it isn’t.”
“Thala, don’t make it a matter of honor for these men. I don’t care if you hack off important and beloved parts of them, I agree that they deserve it. But think about what that might mean. Many, many others might die because of it. And they might even succeed in kidnapping more Wolfhome girls. Revenge is a powerful motivation.”
“But I can’t just walk away from this bastard!”
I saw a tear form at one comer of her eye.
I turned to Shaden. “Are the men of Kronos men of honor?” I asked him, pretty sure of what the answer would be.
“Of course. We have always been warriors, and warriors know honor.”
“This woman is a warrior, too,” I said formally. “If she defeated you in fair combat, would the next Shaden consider that cause for a blood feud?”
His eyebrows lifted. “No. That would be between me and her.”
I turned back to Thala. “Well?”
She grinned. With a cry of “fair enough”, she slit the bonds that held him.
He rose to his feet with a evil grin of his own. A couple feet away lay the sheathed sword of the Emperor, tossed aside when he was disrobed. Shaden, keeping his eye on Thala, circled around and picked it up. It looked to be at least six inches longer than Thala’s and heavier.
The Amazon brought her sword straight up before her eyes in a salute. “For honor,” she said formally.
But Shaden was not waiting for ritual. He lunged forward, sword held straight out, aimed for the bare breast over her heart. Thala parried but only just in time, the point tracing a line of red across her shoulder instead of plunging into her heart.
I’ll admit that I’m not one for ancient swords and such. Give me a fully charged blaster any day. Or that ancient projectile weapon I had made custom for me after seeing it in several of the movies. I figured that some day it would come in useful, and it had. But these two were warriors trained, probably from birth, to use blade weapons. Steel rang against steel, and the silvery blades moved at times almost faster than the eye could follow. Thrust, parry, counter-thrust. Vicious slices that could have decapitated had they connected. A strange contest of naked man, naked woman, and naked blades.
Then it was over. Shaden might have been stronger but Thala was driven by an inner rage. Her blade sliced a deep cut on his sword arm, then she spun around and sweep horizontally with a two-handed cut. There was a look of surprise on his face when his head flew past me.
I looked down at the Emperor. “Was it a fair combat?” I asked. He nodded. “Was honor served?” Another nod. “Then this issue is ended?” He closed his eyes but nodded a third time.
I swatted Thala on the bottom and ordered her to run for the ship.
The Golden Girl was sitting on the landing pad right where I had expected her to be. Beyond her were the smoking ruins of several air transports and the main defensive weapons. Her bombing had been pinpoint accurate. Thala and I dashed up the ramp and I slammed a fist against the interlock. As the hatch began closing, I was on the communicator yelling for Eddie to get us out of there. No telling when reinforcements might show up.
It was crowded inside. This size star ship, having never been designed to hold more than ten people, now held three times that number. And all (save Eddie) were naked, beautiful women. That is a contented sigh you heard from me.
I worked my way into the control room where Eddie was keying in commands. As soon as we were clear of the atmosphere, we jumped.
14 – Wrap Up
It would have been nice to say that everyone lived happily ever after. But things don’t always work out the way you want them to. Once we were safely away from Kronos and jumping towards Wolfhome, there occurred an event that was to change the lives of several people forever.
The ship was on automatic and most of us had gathered in the lounge. I had fetched a beer from the galley and was sitting back, unwinding. Thala and Fauna were talking to the Princess, who didn’t seem to be answering them. Eddie was sitting on a table, eying all the naked, dark-haired beauties around like a little child peering through the window of a candy store.
Suddenly Princess Adrianne left the girls and came towards me. She was still naked and I had to admit that her figure was the best of all them, and that was saying a lot. I was about to stand up accept her formal thanks when she sank to her knees. She bowed until her head touched the floor, then she straightened. Sitting back on her heels, wrists crossed behind her, back straight, and head bowed, she said, “How may I please you, Master?”
You could have heard a pin drop in that crowded room. Suddenly everyone was silently staring at the incredible scene of a Princess kneeling before a simple, non-royal adjustor.
“Princess, a simple thank you will be enough,” I began.
“I am no longer a princess,” she said in a wonderfully husky and sexy voice. “I am a slavegirl who’s only wish is to serve her Master.”
Well! They certainly train them well in the House Shaden.
While I was thinking of something to say, Thala walked up with a stem look on her face. She stopped before the kneeling Princess. For a long few seconds she merely looked down. The Princess bowed her head again. Then Thala swung her arm. The slap sounded very loud in that room. Then Thala walked away.
“What the hell is this?” I asked.
Thala looked back at me. “She is no longer our Princess. No Princess of the Warrior Women may act as she had.”
“Thala, you can’t do that. Can you?”
Thala softened and came over to me. “I fear the training she had has changed her. She is no longer fit to be a princess.”
I couldn’t believe we had all risked our lives, and the girls risked lifelong slavery, to save this woman, and then they dump her fifteen minutes later. “What is to become of her then?” I asked.
“Apparently she’s yours,” replied Thala coolly and with more than a trace of sarcasm.
“Mine?!”
“You heard her. Remember those videos? Once a girl has been trained such as they did to her, she wants only to be a slavegirl. And serve a male master.” The last sentence was dripping with displeasure. “You can have her.”
I looked down at the incredibly beautiful woman kneeling at my feet and gulped.
“Of course, Adrianne came from a very wealthy family. She is very rich.” Thala was saying that matter-of-factly but there was a slight trace of irony in her voice. Or maybe it was jealousy. Or anger? Whatever. “She owns that hunting lodge,” she went on. “In fact, the whole island. About three hundred square miles. I guess she’ll expect you to take that over. As her guardian or something.”
I noticed that she couldn’t bring herself to say the word “Master.”
“All that I am, all that I have, is yours, Master,” said the bowed head before my feet.
Thala didn’t like the silly grin on my face.
Well, everything worked out fine. I’m living in my hunting lodge on Wolfhome with my six beautiful slavegirls. Four of the trained Wolfhome girls chose to stay with the former princess. It was the four who’s training had finished, and I suspect it was because they wanted to have a man to serve and none of the males (pathetic bunch of whimps) on Wolfhome would even know what to do with them. So I inherited the Princess and four ladies in waiting, so to speak. All of whom insist upon remaining naked and chained at all times. Well, except for those times when I’m punishing them, often with extremely tight rope bondage, which they all seem to love.
And the sixth? Well, I offered to give Michelle her freedom, even to take her back to her home world. But she said that she liked Wolfhome, all the pine trees and clear blue lakes and such, and she “sort of’ liked me, and… Well, she volunteered to remain a slavegirl for me.
And before you assume that I have the perfect life, let me tell you that Michelle is jealous of Adrianne, and the two are always playing dirty tricks on each other. One time I found Michelle bound and hanging upside down in the kitchen while Adrianne and two other slavegirls pelted her with leftovers from the fridge. And the next day I found Adrianne staked out on an ant hill. Little tricks like those. But they keep life from being boring.
Even though I have to constantly be punishing one or the other of them, I really have come to love my slaves, every one of them. I still call Adrianne “Princess” but now it’s a nickname, not a title. And I’m constantly surprised at how much they taught those girls at House Shaden (whom we have not heard a peep from), and how many ways they know to pleasure a man. There’s this trick that Colleen does with her tongue that… Well, never mind.
And Captain Eddie? She’s still charting out the Golden Girl. She left one of the cabins fitted out with the slavegirl cells. Why? Well, it gives her a place to keep Red. The girl speaks Basic quite well now but still remains wild and untamed. I think Eddie likes her that way. Every time they visit, Red is tightly bound, gagged, and wearing a mixture of faded and fresh whip marks. The last time the showed up, Red had beautiful gold rings through pierced nipples.
I have discovered both the need for and pleasure to be found in whipping female flesh. It keeps them in line and eager to please me. Not that I ever mark my slaves up very much, just enough to make them cry out loudly and squirm in whatever manner I have them bound. And a little scream now and then, just to remind them that I’m the Master.