7 – Preparations and Whipped Bottoms
I bought the items Grayscalp had put on the list. Did you know that there is a chain of stores called “Whips ‘R’ Us?” All kinds of shackles, ropes, collars and oh, those whips! I filled the shopping list while Captain Eddie oversaw the conversion of another of the cabins in the ship into slave cells. She didn’t like her ship being converted into a slaver ship but enough bonus money was added to her contract so that she could convert it back and add some niceties when this case was over. That removed the objections over the ship being changed, but she still grumbled a lot about what she was to become, even if it was only temporary and for a good cause.
I gave Thala, Rhonda and Fauna directions for finding the local Western Union office so they could send a message back to Wolfhome. Then I had to explain that I didn’t know what “Western Union” meant, but it was a very old company. I hoped they wouldn’t get into trouble on the way. The subspace radio in the Golden Girl just didn’t have the power to punch a signal more than a few light years.
When they got back I had the delightful task of showing them their new quarters. They were not happy. I guess there is something about rings set in the wall to attach shackles, an iron barred door that could be locked from the outside, and bare walls designed only to hold human cargo that doesn’t sit well with Amazon warrior women. And the fact that I had laid out some of those shining new shackles on the thinly padded bunks didn’t go over too well, either.
I commandeered one of the storage lockers to hold the extra restrains. Rhonda saw me loading three dozen coils of rope, a dozen handcuffs, assorted locks and three full body harnesses into the locker. But that didn’t upset her as much as the assortment of five different kinds of whips. A minute later Thala was breathing down my neck.
“They’re just for show!” I protested. “Just show. Slavers have to have whips. It’s part of keeping the cargo under control. Just show…”
She gave me a look that plainly said if I tried to use one of those whips on my three clients, there would be a slave revolt and one very sorry Slave Master.
I kind of liked that title, Slave Master. It was the standard title for those who made their living catching and transporting human cargo. They might not like it, but for a while at least I would have my Amazonian clients calling me “Master.” Too bad it wouldn’t be for real.
Deliveries were made of documents and tapes from Grayscalp. I studied them carefully. All of our lives would depend upon my passing as a legitimate slave trader. At least long enough to get up to Kronos. And for however long it would take us to find the Princess.
Grayscalp was as good as his word. I had letters of introduction to several slave traders on Wahoo Base III, one of the better known slave trading ports. He even included instructions on how to pick the right kind of slaves to interest the Kronosians. I had several tapes of real slavers showing off their wares. It surprised me how beautiful some of those slaves were. I could see why a rich man would spend a small fortune to own one. There was something about the idea of owning a beautiful woman who’s only purpose was to please me. I think it’s instinctual to men.
But I kept my mouth shut around my clients and Captain Eddie.
The evening before we jumped, I was in the lounge studying some documents when Captain Eddie came in and sat down next to me. For a while I ignored her but it quickly became obvious that she wanted to talk.
“What can I do for you?” I opened.
“I’ve been thinking about this charter,” she said. That was the way she addressed our little adventure, as a charter. I thought of it as a “case.” To the Wolfhome girls it was a holy crusade.
“It is dangerous, isn’t it?” she continued.
I put down the papers and leaned back. A flip remark about my laughing at danger came to my lips but died there. Instead I quietly and honest admitted, “Yes, it is. Actually, it’s a stupid idea and I’ll probably get killed. And the girls will wind up as real slaves for the rest of their lives.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, so I continued, “You’ve got the easy part. You stay hidden in the ship. Be ready to jump fast if we come hurrying if we come running with the local law hot on our tails. If the shit hits the fan, you jump as fast as you can and get out of there. Understand?”
She nodded and looked at me in a way she never had before. It wasn’t admiration but might have been a close kin.
“I mean it,” I said. “You’re just a hired ship’s owner. We’re hiring you to provide transportation for us, not get into a fire fight. And not to be captured and made into a slave yourself. From what Grayscalp says, those guys on Kronos are a mean bunch. And they play for real.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll jump so fast they won’t see me go. But O’Connor, why are you doing this?”
“It’s a job.” I tried not to sound like one of those hard-boiled detectives in the ancient movies but probably failed.
“Is it the money?” she countered. “Is money worth dying for?”
“Nothing’s worth dying for,” I said. “Not money, planet, religion or even love.” I took a deep breath and tried to find words to explain why I was doing this. There weren’t any. “Maybe I’m just crazy. Maybe I’ve got some old fashion sense of honor. The girls came to me and asked me to help them. I said I would. It’s that simple.”
For a few long seconds she looked into my eyes. I couldn’t tell what was going on behind those lovely eyes of hers. “Maybe you are crazy,” she finally said. But it wasn’t in an accusing tone. “Maybe we’re all crazy. All humans, I mean.”
“Probably. The Zedians on Karlaus believed that humans were gods when we first landed there. After a few years they decided we were crazy demons and kicked us off their planet.”
There isn’t much else you can add after you conclude that your whole species is crazy, so we changed the subject.
“Are the girls going to make believable slaves,” she asked with a glance back towards their quarters.
“I hope so. At least they’ll look like freshly captured slaves. Wild women chaffing at the bit. That role won’t be too hard for them to play.”
“They won’t like it. They’re a proud race. And their world is a beautiful place. It won’t be easy for them to turn into slaves, even for a short time.”
“I’m sure it isn’t easy for Princess Adrianne right now,” I said. “And there was more than twenty girls kidnapped with her. Our girls will do their part. And maybe being treated like a slave for a while will help motivate them. Besides,” I added with a grin, “once I get the shackles on the, they’ll have little choice, won’t they?”
“O’Connor, you take it easy on those girls.”
“Captain, I have no intention of hurting them one tiny bit more than needed. But you do realize that I have to play the part and they have to look like real captives.”
“I understand that. We have talked about it. And I’ve been reading some of those papers you have. And the videos.”
She didn’t have to say anything more. She was telling me that she knew what was expected and the girls did also. I nodded.
The Golden Girl jumped at dawn and hauled her tail for Wahoo at warp eight.
The Princess didn’t sleep well that night. They had placed her in a small cage, so small that she had to sit with her legs drawn up and head bowed. Her hands were joined behind her in shining steel handcuffs. Another pair were locked on her ankles, but both of them were just for show. The cage had stout steel bars and two padlocks. She would not be fighting her way out. But the handcuffed wrists and ankles were a part of the mentality in that place, part of the “overkill” designed to make a girl feel more than just helpless.
Having lost count of the number of days she had been imprisoned in that terrible place was only one of the mental changes happening to not only the Princess but the other girls who had been captured with her. Most of them had been reduced to the same state as the Princess, worn down, mentally fatigued, and “softened up” enough to begin molding their minds into new channels. Enough pain over long enough period and a total lack of hope will do that to a girl.
When the cage was unlocked she could hardly stand and was helped to her feet. Then came along shuffle on handcuffed feet down to a room where she received her usual cold water shower, then a quick dry by hot air blasted from nozzles in the wall. A quick meal of nutritious but bland food and she was ready for a new day of tortures.
After a long walk down a stone corridor, the Princess was led through a door and into a room much unlike what she had expected, and not very much like a torture chamber. Rich purple curtains hung from the walls of the large chamber and the floor was carpeted in a light blue, and very soft under her bare feet. A couple low tables and four chairs were placed around a central area. One of the chairs was occupied by Shaden himself. The only other person in the room was a naked woman kneeling in the middle of the room. Her legs were folded under her and her arms were held behind her back, wrists crossed but unbound. Her back was straight but her head bowed, her long black hair falling to almost cover her breasts. Princess Adrianne recognized the girl even with her face down turned. It was Rachael, the one who’s nipples her toes had been wired to at one time.
She looked to those nipples as she came close. They seemed perhaps a bit larger than normal but otherwise unharmed by their ordeal of the wire. The Princess had to suppress a shudder because seeing Rachael reminded her of Melinda the day before and that terrible scream as the lead weight pulled her nipples tied with the same thin wire. Again she wondered if Melinda’s nipples had survived intact.
Noting the lack of restraints upon her young friend, the Princess wondered what was going on. The whipmarks upon her bottom were fresh, indicating that the young girl had been punished recently, probably the day before.
Without orders, the guards unlocked her handcuffs and brought her hands around in front. There they were bound with rope, side by side. There came a humming sound and a metal ring lowered itself from the ceiling. Her wrists were tied to that ring solidly, then the guards removed the handcuffs joining her ankles and left the room.
The humming sound again came and she watched her hands lifted before her face as the rope retreated into a hole in the ceiling. Up and up it went until she was balanced on tiptoe, then it halted. From her stretched out position, she looked to Shaden to see what would come next.
“The training of all the girls we captured that night has continued. Most are responding nicely. This one, the one you call Rachael is farther along than the others.” He remained in his chair and toyed with the three buttons set into the arm rest. “Today I’m going to test just how far she has come.”
The Princess glanced down but Rachael had not move the slightest.
“Slave…” Shaden said softly. Instantly Rachael answered the quiet summons.
“Yes, Master?” she said without lifting her eyes.
He tossed a wicked looking little whip onto the carpet before her. “Take that whip and stand up,” he ordered.
Her hand came around from behind her back and slowly picked up the whip by the leather-wound handle. Then she rose to her feet gracefully.
“You see the one you call Princess before you?” he asked.
For the first time Rachael turned her eyes to Princess Adrianne but there was little sign of recognition, no emotion of any kind, on her face.
“You will take that whip and strike her bottom with it.”
Rachael move a few steps until she was positioned for a blow across the rounded bottom of her royal leader. Her hand slowly came back with the whip in it, then paused. Shaden watched with interest from his chair. The Princess did not look back but kept her eyes on the floor just beyond where her toes dug into the plush carpet. She fully expected the whip to came cutting across her bottom.
Rachael’s arm trembled as if opposing forces were at war within, then the whip dropped to the carpet with a soft thud.
“I cannot do it, Master. She is a Princess. I would rather die than strike the royal person.”
The delivery was surprisingly flat considering the terrible emotions that must have been churning around inside her mind.
Shaden smiled and rose from the chair. “You do know that failure to obey a Master’s order always results in punishment, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master.”
“And you have seen and felt the punishments in this place?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you remember the pain stick?”
Rachael shuddered, unable to suppress her feelings at the memory of that terrible pain inside her private place. But she answered calmly, “Yes, Master.”
“Then why do you not whip the bottom of this woman? You can see from the fading marks that she has been whipped many times before. And by stronger arms than yours.”
“She is a Princess, Master. I cannot do it.”
“Even if it means the intense pain for a whole day?”
“Yes, Master.”
Shaden rubbed his beard with one hand. This was not unexpected. He knew that the young girl’s training was not complete, and actually would have been surprised if she had whipped her mistress. His assessment of their culture indicated that proper treatment of royalty was paramount.
“Slave Adrianne,” he said, addressing the woman in semi-suspension, “do you believe that this girl will be horribly punished for her failure here?”
“I believe it,” she replied for it was the truth.
“And would you like to see her avoid that?”
“Yes…” She was puzzled as to where this was leading.
“Then order her to whip you.”
She was surprised and silent. What a dilemma he had created for both of them. Rachael did not want to whip her Princess but she would also not think of disobeying a direct order. And the Princess herself would rather not give the command to have her own flesh punished.
She thought as hard as she could but could find no way out. So she sighed and then turned her eyes to Rachael. “Rachael, dear, please whip my bottom,” she said softly. “That is an order.”
Rachael’s eyes were animated for the first time. She looked from her Princess to the man who controlled their lives and back. She understood that the Princess was willing to sacrifice her bottom to the pain of the whip to save her much worse pain. But to strike the royal person…!
Trembling, she reached down and picked up the whip. Her hand went back, trembled for a second, then came forward. The leather thongs softly tapped the bare flesh.
“Harder!” commanded Shaden. “Much harder. Hit her with all the strength you have.”
Rachael threw the whip to the floor and fell to her knees, crying into cupped hands over her face. “I cannot do it!” she cried.
Shaden grinned. Things were going as he had expected.
A clap of his hands brought two guards hurrying into the room. “Secure her,” he told them, pointing to the crying girl on the floor. “Bind her hands in front of her, then tie them to the same ring.”
Quickly they did as ordered, binding Rachael’s wrists in front of her, then placing her face to face with the Princess. The rope was lowered from the ceiling until the ring was within reach, then her wrists tied tightly to it. when the ring retreated into the ceiling for a second time, it left the Princess on her toes and Rachael’s feet completely off the floor.
The two women were pressed together as they hung from the same ring, their naked breasts and bellies held in contact by gravity. Their faces were only an inch apart.
“Your refusal gained your Princess nothing,” Shaden said loudly when the girls were positioned to his liking. “She will still be whipped on the ass. And harder than you could have done it for it will be done by a man’s hand. And you will be punished for disobedience, a serious crime for a slavegirl.”
At a signal from their Master, one of the guards picked up the whip and struck the Princess across the bottom with a sudden and painful blow. She gasped and jerked forward, which pushed her body hard against Rachael’s.
Rachael looked up to see the pain in her mistress’ eyes and whispered, “I’m sorry, Mistress.” Then she lowered her eyes and buried her face against the Princess’ shoulder.
Shaden touched a button and the rope lifted then both another foot of the floor so that neither pair of feet could touch. Then he picked up another whip from the floor by his chair and tossed it to the second guard. “Whip them both. Cover them from their waists down to the backs of their knees. But make sure that not the tiniest portion of the bottoms escapes the whips.”
He watched as the first strokes were applied, listened to the cries of anguish, and savored the jerking of bare legs in response to fiery pain exploding over old whipmarks. It was beautiful.
The guards took turns so that each girl would feel the jerk and pain in the other without being interfered with by her own pain. Slowly they covered the assigned territory with strong male slashes that turned the skin red and marked it with slowly rising welts.
The whipping continued for over an hour. Both girls were exhausted and had run out of tears before the last stroke had landed. Their backs burned from knees to waist with a fire and an ache that was terrible to have to endure. At times the bare feet kicked out at their tormentors, but these men were experienced in the tormenting of a woman’s ass and stayed out of range.
Finally the task was done. Shaden had long before left but with the promise that he would return later to inspect the damage. The guard’s last act before they too left for other tasks was to attach ropes to each ankle and then pulled them apart to be tied to rings in the walls hidden behind the curtains. The girls leg’s were spread as widely as the men could pull, in an uncomfortable position that exposed their sex.
After the guards left, the Princess quietly told Rachael that she loved her and some day they would be free of this torment. Rachael replied that surely it would be so but inside doubted that most seriously.
8 – Newly Shackled Slavegirls
Wahoo Prime was much more crowded than I had ever imagined. Apparently slavery was a very big business out on the rim. Hundreds of ships filled the landing grid and the Golden Girl was almost lost among the larger transports. And on the way in I noted a dozen very large ships tethered to Wahoo Orbital Dock One, along with dozens of shuttle craft rising from the atmosphere or dipping into it.
Once safely landed, I called everyone into the lounge and set down some new rules. We were now full into our roles as slaver and slaves. There were over two million people in Prime, most slaves but a great many others. From that point on we would have to play the part totally. There was always a chance of someone from Kronos seeing us. Or someone who might tell someone from Kronos, etc.
This meant that Captain Eddie was going to have to disappear into her cabin if there was any chance of someone seeing her. And the girls were going to have to become slaves — from that moment until we rescued the Princess and made our escape from Kronos.
Three tall, well muscled, gorgeous Amazons looked at each other. Then Thala rose from her seat. “We have discussed this,” she said formally. “And we have viewed the tapes and books given you. We understand.” She unbuckled her sword belt and laid it upon the table. Then the blaster and the small knife they hide, and another knife that I hadn’t been award of from her boot. Her leather body armor followed. Then, with a glance to the others, she reached up and untied the rawhide thong just above the swell of her large breasts. She pulled the vest-like shirt apart then lifted it over her head.
A couple seconds later the skirt of black leather was laid on the table beside the shirt.
May I take a moment to tell you how incredibly perfect these Amazon warrior women are? They stay in shape and it was a wonderful shape to begin with. Breasts that big should sag or at least give lip service to gravity, but they don’t. And those flat tummies… Curved asses…
Thala turned to me and put her hands on her hips to take a defiant stance. Behind her the other girls began disrobing.
“You had better get the shackles,” said Thala. The way she said it, it was an order but I didn’t mind. I wiped the drool from my chin with a sleeve and went to the storage area where I had stashed all the slaver gear.
When I came back all three of them were naked, a sight which made certain parts of my anatomy want to stand at attention. Being in close quarters on a small star ship with three lovely… No, make that four, gorgeous females and not getting a chance to prove to any of them that I was a real man is hard on a male body. I approached Thala with a pair of shining new handcuffs.
She put out her hands in front of her, fingers folded into fists. I placed one half crescent of steel against the bottom of one wrist and swung the top half over. It clicked loudly in the quiet lounge. I had been reading about these kind and knew that they had built in sensors that would automatically pull the hinged half snug against the skin. And hold it there. Only the magnetic key could unlock that cuff. And I had the only keys in my pocket.
For a second I hesitated. Thala was my client and paying me and therefore my boss on this case. She had put her hands in front of her, wrists separated by six inches, obviously telling me that she wanted her wrists joined in that manner. But that was not the way it was done — at least not according to what I had read and seen. And it was not logical to keep slavegirls who were big enough, strong enough, and trained as warriors with their hands locked in front of them. Far too easy for them to strike their master.
I took a firm hold of the connecting chain and stepped around behind her, bringing her shackled wrist with me. Then I reached around to take her other arm firmly, I pulled and that arm came, but reluctantly for a second. Then she made a small sound that might have been a sigh, and her arms came behind her easily. I locked the second cuff on and watched as it snuggled itself down.
I don’t know what their training is like on Wolfhome, but this woman seemed very uneasy at having her hands locked behind her. Perhaps she was also uneasy at having a man do it. The only men I saw during our brief visit to Wolfhome were poor examples of manhood, small in stature, and docile as hell.
I decided that perhaps I would give her a little time to get used to the restrains on her wrists before I attached a pair of leg irons on her ankles.
Fauna turned and presented her wrists behind her. I locked them in place. Rhonda did the same, both without saying a word.
I stood back and tried not to look like I was admiring the scene. It was lovely! Three wonderful sexy woman, all with their arms secured behind them. I happened to glance over at Captain Eddie and was amazed to see the intensity with which she was staring at the girls. It was almost as if she were as turned on by the scene as I was. But, I reminded myself, she had been playing lesbian nibbling games with them so she would admire those fine bodies as much as any man.
Since Thala was the leader and showed more fire than the other two, I knelt down with a pair of leg irons in front of Fauna first. They were like the handcuffs but with a little longer chain joining the cuffs, which were slightly larger themselves. Once the ankles were joined with those leg irons, a girl could walk but only by taking small steps, a sort of slavegirl shuffle.
Rhonda accepted her leg irons without comment. Then I brought the third pair over to Thala. As I knelt down, and was attaching the first ankle cuff, she informed me in a voice both stem and stressed, “Remember that we hired you. You work for us.”
I looked up and had to pause for a second while I recovered from the view — my nose was only inches from her pubic patch and the promised land hidden within. Then I answered as matter-of-factly as I could, “Of course. I won’t forget that.”
I locked the other cuff on and retreated to a chair next to Captain Eddie. The three new slavegirls stood there, not seeming to have any idea what to do next. I let them have a little time to get used to this degree of restraints for I knew the next step would not be easy for them. Next to me, Eddie wasn’t saying anything, either. Then she surprised me by standing up and firmly announcing, “Shouldn’t we be getting these slaves into the cells? Master?”
She looked at me but it wasn’t really for confirmation. The slave did belong in their cells and we both knew that. And the slavegirls knew that, too.
“Of course, Captain,” I agreed and got up. I almost said, “Ladies, if you will go to your cabin,” but then stopped myself. That was not the proper attitude. These girls were merchandise, not ladies. “Get a move on it,” I ordered instead. Thala’s head snapped up from where she had been studying the shining silver shackles upon her ankles. It was easy to see that she was about to snap at me. But then she swallowed her pride and shuffled off towards the cabins.
Captain Eddie went ahead to open the doors.
We had cells built into two of the cabins, including the one that the Wolfhome girls had been using. Gone were the comfortable bunks, replaced by small cages made of steel bars welding to the deck and ceiling. Each cell was just big enough to hold one girl and had only a small, hard bench and a ring in the wall about three feet off the deck. Each had a door that swung out and a built-in lock. On the front of the lock was a small touch pad of dull gray material. Touching my index finger to that pad, or Captain Eddie’s finger, was the only way to open the door. It was coded to our fingerprints.
Rhonda was the first to arrive and found Eddie holding open her door. I stood by and listened to the metallic tinkling of the chains as they girls shuffled past. Rhonda entered and stood standing there as Eddie closed the door behind her. The shining steel bars were about six inches apart, so the slavegirls could be watched at all times. Fauna went into her cell and immediately turned to press her big breasts against the bars. She didn’t like it, that was obvious.
Thala was the last to be locked in. When the door closed with a soft clang, she visibly shuddered.
I went up to Thala’s cell. She had turned around and was sitting on the edge of the metal bench. “I appreciate how hard this is for you,” I told her sincerely. And I really meant it. “I will do every thing I can to find and rescue your Princess.”
She looked up to me with those dark eyes but said nothing.
When I left, Eddie was talking quietly to Thala.
I changed from ship jumpsuit to clothing more befitting a slaver. The boots were polished black. The pants were tight, black, and of a synthetic leather that was hard to tell from the real thing. The shirt was iridescent blue, opened at the throat. I strapped the blaster to my waist and fitted a communicator on the other side. A vest served as a coat and had two inside pockets for me to carry the important papers, including letters of credit and introductions to two different slave traders. I was about finished when Eddie came into my cabin. I had left the door open, so she didn’t have to knock.
“Your clients aren’t happy,” she said.
“I know that.”
“Talon, what are the Kronos men doing to Princess Adrianne?”
I had never heard her call me by my first name before. Nor had she used that quiet voice.
“They’re training her to be a docile, obedient slavegirl,” I replied. “You’ve seen the documents and tapes.”
“Do you think we can save her in time?”
“In time? Oh, you mean before she graduates from Slave University?”
“Don’t joke about it. Yes, I do mean before she’s… What’s that word?”
“Broken?”
“Yes, before she’s broken in spirit.”
I took a breath. “I hope. You know these girls, they’re strong. The Princess will hold out as long as any woman can. That’s a help.”
Captain Eddie had to be satisfied with that, it was all I could offer. I put on the bush hat I was fond of wearing because it made me look rakish, and headed out. As I passed her, she touched my arm.
“Take care,” she said.
“I will. You make sure that the girls are kept chained and locked in their cells. There’s probably some kind of port inspector — most space ports have them. And there may be others with me when I bring back the rest of the cargo. Don’t go feeling sorry for the girls and releasing them. They’re slaves now, remember that.”
She grinned. “You don’t have to worry, they won’t be set free.”
I did a double take. This beautiful captain was very serious. “Well, fine, but don’t whip them too hard, either. Remember, they are my bosses,” I joked. “Promise?”
I noted as I left the ship that Captain Eddie did not promise not to whip the girls. And I wondered all the way to the main transportation terminal what kind of lesbian relationship those four girls had going. Or that was developing.
The small metal ring was placed over the taunt nipple of Princess Adrianne, just fitting. When the hand holding it was removed, the ring shrank down until it gripped the sensitive flesh in a stranglehold, making the end become shaped like a balloon. Then, when it was quite firmly attached and squeezing, thirty-six tiny needles emerged from the inside edge of the ring, each very sharp but only a fraction of an inch long. Each penetrated the flesh a tiny amount but enough to be felt as three dozen tiny pains.
The Princess moaned as the first ring sank its tiny teeth into her flesh. It hurt but was mild compared to other pains delivered upon her body by the men in that terrible place. A second ring was being placed over her other nipple, and she could do nothing about it.
As was common, she was restrained, this time by ropes that held her solidly against a post. Around and around, criss-crossed and all very tight a large amount of rope held her to the metal post. Her arms were behind it, elbows pulled together, which, of course, made her breasts stick out nicely. She had endured the enforced immobility for two hours before Shaden and a couple of this henchmen came by. The small rings with their tiny but very sharp teeth were put on without a word, and she did not ask why she deserved this additional punishment. It was simply the way of the place.
Shaden seemed amused, a smile tugging at his beard and a slight twinkle in his gray eyes. Which made Princess Adrianne’s heart sink. Something was going to happen and it was going to be much more painful than a handful of tiny needles hardly breaking the skin of her nipples. His good humor told her that.
The guards left but returned a few minutes later with two naked woman in tow by the ropes looped around their necks as leashes. The Princess recognized them as members of her private guard, one Helena and one Suzanne by name. She had not seen either girl since the mass kidnapping, and it looked as if both girls had been receiving harsh treatment at the hands of their captors. Helena was bound with wrists crossed behind her back but the Princess could see the collection of whipmarks that covered her bottom, some old, some fresh. The once proud guard walked behind her captor with head bowed as if most of the spirit had gone from her.
Suzanne still showed some spark, a tiny bit of pride and rebellion. Her head was held up, she dared to stare into the eyes of those who held her leash, and she smiled when she saw her Princess, although that smile turned to a frown as she realized her Princess was as whipmarked as any of them.
The two girls were backed up to separate posts directly across from the Princess and bound to them. Both girls had their arms pulled around behind the posts and bound there with rope, elbows tugged tightly together. Then rope was wrapped around their arms and stomachs, and pulled very tightly to both hold them solidly against the pole and to keep their hands behind them.
Nervous glances were exchanged between the three imprisoned women. Each knew that just being left alone, even if uncomfortably bound, would be too much to hope for.
“You have two of your former guards before you,” said Shaden grandly. “They’re slaves now, of course, but once they were proud member of your elite guard.” He paused to motion to one of the keepers. The man produced a small whip with a grin. “The training for all of you continues,” he continued. “The infliction of pain, the discomfort and all that will make you into fine slavegirls, eager to serve whoever becomes their Master.”
He moved over a step to be closer to Princess Adrianne. “One of them will now be whipped on the breasts.” He paused a moment to let that sink in to all three women. “And you, my slavegirl, will decide which one it is to be.”
The Princess looked up sharply.
“That’s right, slave Adrianne, you will tell us which of these girls is to be whipped across those lovely breasts with that single tong leather whip. And it will not be a light whipping. It will leave marks and will hurt terribly. Well? Which one is it to be?”
The Princess frowned and began to complain that wasn’t the pain enough, why torment me this way? And to refuse to play his little game. But she held her tongue for she suddenly knew what he was going to say next.
“I see in your eyes that you can guess what comes next. And you’re so right. If you do not chose one girl, then both of them will be whipped. Does it not seem kinder to pick one and spare the other slave a lot of pain?”
Anguish twisted inside the Princess. Neither woman deserved the coming punishment. But then none of them deserved any of the pain given them in this place. How could she decide that one of her loyal guards should suffer a terrible punishment, and the other not be harmed at all. And such a terrible punishment — terrible for any women to have to feel that wicked leather thong across her breasts. The girls look at each other and to their Princess.
With her eyes and her lips, Helena silently said “Me.” It tore at her heart to see another women offering to suffer to save her sister warrior. The Princess turned to Shaden. “Please whip me, Master,” she said.
“Oh, no! You don’t get off that easy,” he chuckled. “That was not one of the options. Choice one girl in the next ten seconds or both will be whipped. Dagette, show them what it will be like.”
The guard with the whip, still grinning, suddenly lashed out with his arm to cut the leather thong across Helena’s breasts. She screamed and jerked against the ropes. One leg kicked high in the air but her body was held tightly against the post.
Taking a step forward, he brought the whip arm back and then cut a vicious slash across both breasts of Suzanne. She also screamed, she could not help herself. She shook all over and stamped her foot, as if that might ease the sudden and terrible pain in her breasts.
“And give this slavegirl one, too, so she will know,” Shaden commanded. The grinning guard came over and happily slashed the Princess’ lovely breasts.
The pain was terrible, and a woman’s breasts are such a sensitive place. The Princess uttered a loud gasp and then whined at the burning pain in both breasts. Guided by an expert hand, the tong had caught both nipples and each cried out its pain.
The Princess could not kick or stamp her feet for the ropes held her legs quite immobile. But she shook her head back and forth until the pain subsided.
“You now have ten seconds to decide. The slave you pick will have her breasts whipped many times. They will be covered with whip marks, top and bottom and all sides. What you’ve just felt is only a small sample. So… Now decide.”
Shaden loved the look of fear and anger and pain in the Princess’ eyes as she struggled with this dilemma. He laughed and held up one hand, fingers spread wide. “Seven… Six…. Five…” he counted slowly. When he said, “Four,” one of the fingers came down.
The Princess looked from one suffering girl to the other.
“Three.”
They looked back with tears in their eyes. Both wanted to have their friend spared but both also feared the promised pain.
“Two.”
The Princess whined like a hurt little girl.
“One.”
She spoke a name.
“Very good. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Don’t want to answer me? That’s okay, slaves should be seen and not heard. Dagette, you may begin.”
The man had done this before. And the whip was a special one made for the whipping of female breasts. It would not mark or cut the flesh the way other whips could, but it could and did deliver a great deal of pain on that tender flesh. He began a slow and regular marking of the beautiful globes, spacing the angry red marks very close together and covering all of the target area. The whip even came up from below to mark the underside.
Suzanne screamed and cried between the screams. Her legs kicked out but could not reach her tormentor. She jerked her body from side to side but the ropes held her firmly available for the kiss of black leather.
The other two woman watched flinched with each slash of the leather, and suffered their own form of agony as their friend and companion suffered the terrible physical pain.
No one counted the strokes, save maybe Dagette. But there were many, far too many for the women held tight in the grasp of ropes and iron fists of these men. When it was over, Suzanne hung limp in her bonds, sobbing and moaning. Her lovely breasts were covered with dozens of thin red lines atop swollen ridges in her flesh.
Shaden checked the ropes on Suzanne and Helena, making sure that they were still tight. Then he motioned towards Helena with his hand and the other guard came up with a small sack in his hands. He poured some red powder into the palm of his hand from the sack, then smeared it all over Helena’s breasts. Another handful and he was smearing it over her stomach and hips. A third covered the inside of her tights, with a fair amount rubbed directly into her pubic patch. The last of the powder covered her bottom where he could reach and the outside of her thighs.
“Harold is going to wash his hands now,” said Shaden casually. “That powder is very irritating, sort of an ‘itching powder’ as they used to call it. It sticks to the skin and creates itches that just get worse as time goes on. Very annoying.”
He went to the Princess lifted his hand to the level of her right breast. He snapped his thumb against the metal ring around her nipple, evoking a sharp cry from her. Then he took the ring in two fingers and used his other hand to move a very tiny switch on it. The metal band began to get tighter. Then the tiny metal needles dug in deeper.
The Princess whined at the new pain.
He did the same to her other nipple. Both were beginning to throb from the tightness of the metal bands.
The men left but only after Shaden bid the girls a good night. And it was a long night, especially for poor Helena who whined and moaned all night long as she struggled to scratch itches that refused to stop and threatened to drive her to the brink of madness. A great deal of the time she was also rubbing her thighs together to ease the terrible itch in her private place.