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Copyright Richard Carradine 2010 This edition published 2010
The right of Richard Carradine to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyright and Patents Act 1988
ISBN 978-1-907475-62-7
THIS IS FICTION, IN REAL LIFE ALWAYS PRACTISE SAFE SEX
Tormented Passage
by
Richard Carradine
Illustrated by
'LOKI'
CHAPTER 1
I'd been well prepared for this, now reality, bizarre as it was, had arrived. I shifted on my high heels, feeling the plug work my butt. I'd been brought early to the bar and been lifted up and impaled on the dildo of the hook shaped mount. I was here now until I sold myself or the evening ended. If my nerve failed or I was lacking in attraction and I was left, literally on the hook, I would be taken off and punished by my trainer to encourage me for the next time. Being early had ensured that one of the best spots could be selected so I had to make the most of it. I was able to stand, half turned away from the bar, looking down it towards the door, watching the men enter.
The bar could have been taken straight out of the old West though the girls spaced evenly along the bar couldn't. I suppose that I, with my corseted waist, low neckline and knee length flared skirt, was as near as you could get. (Really though, I looked more like the ballerina on top of the music box, the mirrors all around helped with the illusion too, though no ballerina ever had a bust as big as mine!) Not so the other girls; they wore leather and latex. All the girls were held captive by the bar, some were cuffed to it by their ankles or wrists, others were collared to swooping light stands. The bar was long enough for twenty or so varieties of bondage. Mine was one of the less evident, if more extreme, forms of captivity. My trainer had placed me on a curved mount that came straight out from the front of the bar and the dildo plug secured on it was angled just right to keep me erect, even if the corset I wore had not ensured that! The swan neck of the mount disappeared through the folds of my skirt and, at first glance, I looked free of bondage. In truth, though, I could shuffle round it so I turned away from the bar or face up or down it but not look directly on to the bar. This little fact ensured that even though I could place one hand on the bar, there was no way I could get free. Not that any of the other girls tethered the bar could do that but depending where on the curved length of the bar or the type mount by which they were connected to it, they were limited much further in their range of movement or what they could see. Observing a likely prospect was everything. After, that is, ensuring you've the right approach. I took a sip of my drink, gathering courage.
My nerves were all of a jangle still. Anyone who looked at me knew just how I was secured to the bar. I could of course ask for help and get myself de-mounted but if I were to do that I would forfeit the mounting fee and that had another six days to run. I couldn't afford that. No, I had to be mounted to display my submission and availability. The evening had only just begun and, though nervous, I was determined to play it cool. Before ten, the girls had to do the asking, after ten the men could. Both parties could always refuse. Of course there were always the Grungies. I'd heard about them. I was told that they were not always easy to spot and girls had wasted a lot of time on no-hopers. My profile may well say that I'm a submissive masochist but even so I wouldn't like to spend too many nights on a hook waiting for Captain Right.
"Now don't rush it, girl. You've a lot to offer. Don't sell yourself short and be calculating. It's better to wait for the right destination with the wrong man than the wrong destination with the right man." Could I be certain I would know if he was the right man? And would I get the right destination? I'd memorised all I could but there were always new destinations coming along. I saw what looked to be my first possibility. He wore the uniform and the flash of a long voyageur. Good shoulders, slim hips and handsome features.
"Can I buy you a drink, Captain?" He looked at me with an appraising stare as though I was so much meat on the hoof and I felt uncertain but then he smiled and showed his white even teeth. "I reckon you can, little lady. A single malt whisky!" I winced a little. I'd paid my trainer and, as I said, paid the bar for the mount plus a drinks allocation but if I bought too many drinks like that one and I didn't find a suitable berth quickly, I would be forced to take whatever I could get or spend another year or so earning enough money to take a second shot at this.
"Now you really are something!"
"Thank you, Sir. I see from your flash you're a long voyageur."
"Yes, darling. I'm scheduled for a run to Eden III so I'm out for a little shopping. And you look just like the sort of girl I'm interested in." It seemed ridiculous to blush when you're at a sellers bar, one specialising in female slaves, but then I have that sort of colouring and whoever said homo sapiens were a rational species ... Eden III, I thought, one of the prime colonies - and so good looking!
"I'm available, perhaps we could compare cards?" I shifted slightly, aware that the dildo was doing interesting things to my inside and that I was getting wet.
"Oh there's no rush, let's get to know each other a little in the old fashioned way first." His hand caressed one of my breasts. My outfit was so low cut that more than a hint of aureole showed and the slight jiggle imparted to my big breast made it threaten to spill out. It was a bit forward but then if he was shipping out soon he probably didn't want to waste time.
"Careful, Captain, I might pop out and black your eye!" I wasn't pleased at his presumption but made the awful joke and giggled anyway, sounding a bit bimbo-ish but at least managing to keep my annoyance concealed.
"I'll chance it, girl. You really are well developed. Are they real?" I felt a bit annoyed that he even had to ask because the choker I was wearing had my badge that confirmed I was genetically unmodified.
"Of course they are, there's nothing fake about me!"
"What's your particular bag then?" He made no apologies about his crass behaviour, but carried blithely on. "Masochism, bondage, water sports... What?"
"Why don't we just compare cards and you'll know if we match." His hand was through the split in my skirt and the other was resting on my corseted waist. I only have a light dusting of pubic hair so little masked my pussy. The fat dildo filling my butt was of a size to make it pout out so he had no difficulty checking my labia or my clit.
"Uuuurrrrgggghhh!" It came out low and throaty and, as I jerked in arousal, one of my nipples did indeed pop into view.
"You really are a hot piece." He showed me the tips of his fingers, wet with my juices. "And what lovely teats!" He touched a damp fingertip to the jutting exposed nipple. "It mu
st be all of two centimetres long. And you say it's natural?" He had the nipple between thumb and forefinger now and was rolling it from side to side, making me squirm and writhe on my impalement. "You are a naughty girl. Does this naughty girl like being spanked?" I felt my pussy tighten and I squirmed a bit more, "I'd keep you tied and tethered a lot of the time as well, whether you're naughty or not."
"Oh! Ohh! Ohhhh!" I was wriggling violently now, his fingers had found my clit and I was close to a screaming orgasm.
"Simpson, isn't it? I thought you were a short haul pilot. Inter system only? Do you know what the penalty is for taking advantage of clients of the Negotiating Room?" I heard him through a daze of pre coital excitement and felt angry at his interruption. But then the import of what he was saying got through to me. The Sales Bar is rarely called the Negotiating Room but that is its correct title. It looks like a bar so that people can talk and relate to each other under favourable conditions and non-outsiders are allowed in to view the proceedings. It's another area of profit for them, but outsiders aren't supposed to get involved with the girls. The penalty isn't so much legal recourse, though that is possible, they're guilty of fraudulent behaviour after all. No, no girl is going to risk delay in shipping out to take them to law. The Sales Bar bouncers, though, will beat a Grungy, an outsider who goes beyond voyeurism, to a pulp if they catch him but my trainer told me that doesn't always stop them.
"I really don't want to see you thrashed, Simpson, so I'll give you a head start before I point you out to them on the security camera." The man who had called himself Captain Simpson almost snarled but also looked as though he might wet himself and suddenly his hand left my crotch and he literally ran from the bar.
I felt almost in shock, so bereft and let down by the turn of events. I looked at one of the mirrors on the wall across from the bar. I no longer looked like the figure on top of the music box that I had seen when my trainer had first impaled me on my mounting. My waist was still about forty centimetres, it's hard to ruffle a corset and my skirts flared out wide to further emphasis it but my large breasts had escaped my bodice and my hair looked a mess.
"May I introduce myself? I'm Captain Avon of the 'Sweet-Thing!'" I looked at him for the first time. He was slightly above medium height (if I hadn't been wearing shoes that kept me on my tip toes my head would have only come up to his chest) trim and well muscled but not too much so. His face was almost handsome in an unimaginative, almost non descript way. Still quite young, he nevertheless had the aura of certainty that said, 'I will endure' - the motto of the long voyageurs. "This is my first visit to a Negotiating Room, they didn't have them when I first took my ship out." I did a swift double take.
"They've been established nearly two hundred years now."
"We compare cards, I believe." I stopped trying to get my breasts back into my dress and meekly offered mine. "Well, I am a long voyageur." He emphasised 'long', I did a quick sum in my head, even allowing for improvements in drive technology to minimise relativity's effects, he had gone a long, long way. I looked down at the card in his hand. My card and his now matched almost perfectly in colour. The small read-out showed zero point nine eight. I gasped and looked at him with fresh eyes. We were nearer than I'd believed or heard was possible. His hand slid between the flounced out folds of my dress and rested on my hips. "I like corseted waists," he indicated the still connected cards, "As you can no doubt guess. But I'm glad your hips aren't that big." He indicated the flair of my skirt, joking and, as he smiled and showed even white teeth, I found myself thinking how handsome it made him. "Such tight round buttocks." His fingers were exploring my cheeks now and just how big the plug that stretched and filled me was before going further. "Stockings! I dreaded the thought that these would have gone the way of the dodo!"
"I wear stockings all the time, sometimes rubber ones too. I also wear rubber tights so that the open crotch makes my cunt really pout."
"Delicious!" His head had gone down to one exposed nipple and he was sucking hard. It wasn't completely the done thing to be quite so blatant about fondling and playing with girls, even in a Selling Bar devoted to BDSM like this one but he knew that being displayed and humiliated like this was turning me on. I was coming again as his hand found the hard nub of my clit and this time there was no holding back.
"Eoooowwwww!" I came violently and the climax threatened to go on forever.
"Well, slut, will you sign on?"
"Where are you going?"
"Quadrant Sixteen to System Proteus. It's where I went last time. This time we colonise."
I realised that it really would be a long haul. Nearly five years subjective time for me and no guarantee of a husband on arrival either. Most, if not all of the settlers would have partners. He too would have no one to take up my berth for the return journey if I stayed, though. 1 looked at our still locked cards. This really was the wrong destination with the right man. I had to be calculating, my trainers said. I pressed my thumb on the sensor circle of his card then watched as he thumbed the circle on mine. They fell apart but stayed the same colour. Mine now said, 'The property of Jude Avon, Captain of the Star ship 'Sweet Thing!" and his said, 'Owner of Ginny Dunlop, Slut and Sex Slave'. As I said, Homo Sapiens are not rational creatures.
"Open wide." He took the ball gag from his pocket and offered it to my mouth. "We might as well start as I intend we go on." I opened my mouth to protest that taking things slowly might be just as nice but then it was in and the strap buckled behind my head.
"Ungh!" Protest was obviously not going to be an option. The cuffs and harness were clearly the latest folding items for they hadn't made more than a slight bulge in the pocket of his dark blue uniform jacket, though I was pleased to notice that the same could not be said of his trousers. He definitely had a truncheon to go with the cuffs. Right wrist was cuffed with a metallic click and my arm folded up behind me. Left arm was cuffed around my bicep and the token struggle confirmed I wasn't going to bring my arm down, for a short rod, similar to the cuff and rod arrangement I could see in his other hand, connected them. This second device disappeared from sight quickly and now my left wrist was cuffed and connected to my right upper arm. I could flap my pinioned arms but I couldn't bring them forward or lower my wrists. I was helpless and available for anything he might want to do with me. I let the anal dildo ease a little deeper and felt my pussy involuntarily clench. The wetness already dampening my thighs increased and the cool air under my wide skirt helped raise goose bumps on my inner thighs, even in the warmth of the bar. Captain Jude was far stronger than he looked. He lifted me with ease off my impalement. He felt as strong as my trainer, though I knew that to be impossible. As I found my feet again, the weirdness of starting to live my fantasies hit me. I could feel my bottom still agape from the plug. Before my sphincter tightened it felt as though a dildo of air was filling me, chilling my bowel in a ghostly reminder of the dildo plug's presence. I don't think I had ever been quite so conscious of the sexual potential for pleasure of my butt and cunt.
It had been a big plug, I thought, as I watched the sconce-like arm disappear into the bar to be readied for the next girl who wanted to sell herself to a Captain of a colony ship for the long voyage. It would have been nice to have the sort of money that would have enabled me to go as a full colonist rather than as a supernumerary, or would it? Unthinking, I shrugged and my nipples popped out of my bodice again.
"Eeeeww!" I moaned to attract his attention and shook my tits at the Captain as he was busy untangling a lead and hadn't noticed. He turned me round so my back was to him and, reaching over my shoulder, cupped one big tit and scooped it back under cover then relocated my other breast.
"As we're still on Earth, I think we should be a little more decorous." I wasn't sure if he was being serious or not but I felt indignant. It was his cuffing me that made fall-out inevitable at some point. The collar was around my neck and he began to lead me from the bar. The cloak I wore to cover my outfit when my trainer escor
ted me to the bar was still in the cloakroom but now there was no way I could tell him that. The eyes of the buyers and grungies were on me and I could feel their lust, it was both frightening and arousing. The other prospective slaves looked on and in them I could see envy. It wasn't unusual for a girl to be chosen on her first night and just as quickly as I had been. To my eyes, many of the girls were as pretty or even prettier than me but they had to wait for the right combination of destination and compatibility. I had decided on only one guideline - sexual compatibility. Most were waiting for the right destination too; the majority would have to accept some sort of compromise before their bar fee ran out or they could try another time after they'd saved more money, just as I would have done had the Captain not come along.
I watched Captain Jude Avon's back as I followed him towards the door, trying to minimise the jiggling of my tits so they didn't fall out again, not easy with the tall heels I wore and my hands cuffed. I faced four or five years' subjective time as a toy to a possible maniac with the knowledge that there was no going back because, long lived as we now are, my parents would be long dead by the time I returned. Was it so important to be able to have as many children as I wanted, away from crowded Earth? It hit me again, even as the ache built in my ball gag jacked mouth. I had let my erotic fantasy lead me rather than common sense. It was a long way away and it was a new colony; perhaps I wouldn't be able to find a husband. A lot of colonies, because of the need to up the birth rate, practised polygamy. It might be a colony that was old fashioned and practiced monogamy so I wouldn't be able to become a second wife.
As we went through the doors into the real world I saw the eyes of passing pedestrians lock on to me. I glanced down at my near bare breasts and I could see a semi circle of aureole peaking over the top of my bodice again. They were only stopped from bouncing free by the hard erect stubs of my nipples. I'd had a love-hate relationship with my boobies since they first began to develop; I'd gone from flaunting to hiding them many times as I matured. Now concealment of any kind was in my Master's hands. A droplet of saliva dripped from my wide jacked open mouth and added to the sheen building on the firm flesh. Never have I felt so helpless and humiliated; my fantasies had included being displayed but this was reality. This was a total stranger leading me out on to a public street at the end of a leash. I had sold myself to him to use as he might want and whilst Earth side, I had forgotten to ask how long he would be earth bound, my condition would be evident for the world to see. The voyage could be even worse, for the term of the journey he could do anything that he wanted to me and there was nothing I could do about it. True, the whole voyage would be taped and that would preclude my life being at risk, other than from the voyage itself and thousands of frozen colonists would share that. No, it was that, my fantasy or not, I had agreed to enslave myself to a stranger who might just have found a way round the compatibility card. A teenage boy looked at me, we made eye contact and I shuddered at the vicious lust I saw in them. Sudden depression hit me and fear built up, I felt as though I would wet myself. No juices of excitement flowed now and I felt my pussy contract.
Tormented Passage Page 1