Tormented Passage

by Richard Carradine

  It wasn't until next morning that I awoke. Someone, the Captain probably, had covered me and I slept the night through. Alone in the room, the Captain had been and gone it would seem, I was forced to dash for the bathroom. Whilst there I completed my toilet, seating myself on the penis shaped spigot and allowing myself to be cleansed until I was deemed 'Ready for use'. My stomach still cramped when I was filled but somehow the process seemed to confirm that in my mind, I was 'Ready for use' too.

  With no orders given and no tasks set I showed my independence and sent down for breakfast. It wasn't complete independence because my breasts were swollen with 'milk' and I ached for relief. They ached enough for me to want to ask the maid for relief but when she arrived she was gagged as well as being skimpily dressed. It was clear she couldn't help me and I didn't want the embarrassment of calling down and asking for an un-gagged maid. So instead I tried to ignore the swollen tender feeling and was on my second cup of coffee after the breakfast when the captain came back.

  "Up, I see. Shed the robe." He poured himself a coffee and indicated his feet. I could guess what he wanted. Sliding from the robe 1 knelt between his thighs and unseamed him, taking his semi­rigid slug of flesh in my hand. The smell and scent of him seemed to fill my nostrils and I felt my mouth water in anticipation. His cock filled my mouth deliciously and I worked my ringed and studded tongue up and down him. He held out for ten minutes but managed not to come by pulling my head off of his cock. I was all eagerness by now and gave a little mew of disappointment. "You were a bad girl not being awake on my return."

  "Yes, Master." This girl may be a sub and at that time inexperienced but she isn't stupid.

  "You must be punished for dereliction of duty. A warning this time but top side it will earn you a lot of pain."

  "Yes, Sir." I wondered what was to come.

  "Over my knee then and remember to keep count and to thank me. You don't want to get more than you need."

  "How many will I be getting?"

  "Not a valid question, Slut. You've just increased the number."

  "SWACK!"

  "One! Thank you, Master, may I have another?"

  "SWACK!"

  "Two! Thank you, Master, may I have another?"

  We got to twelve before he said; "The next session is for asking inappropriate questions." We got to eighteen before I slid off his lap.

  "May I ask a question, Master?"

  "Go ahead, Slut." Slut is what I am and what I felt then for he had made me hot and horny in the extreme but I had a desperate need too.

  "Will you suckle my teats, Master? I'm so full." He made me straddle his lap as he suckled me and I worked his cock as though I was trying to wring its neck. The fiery tenderness of my butt fuelled my lust. I came at least three times before I could force an orgasm out of him and now temporarily drained, other parts of me had acquired a beautiful ache. He made me lick him clean and drink our mixed spending when it dripped from me. It was degrading, humiliating and delicious.

  Today was to be the day I started to train to be a deep voyageur. Of course I was heavily corseted in black silk number that took my waist down to a hand span and left my breasts bare. Suspendered to this were black stockings and I slipped my feet into tall patent leather bootees. Thankfully I was allowed to leave out the dildo because he said it might be a distraction to learning. And so no other could distract me, he locked me into a close fitting chastity belt. Again as with most things he did for me and to me it was double edged. No one could get at me but should I get horny, there was going to be nothing I could do about it to relieve the need. And I was getting very familiar with the need. Over my corset and belt I pulled on a tight, long sleeved, 'V necked black top. The top was cut just low enough to expose my collar and came down at the front and back to do up under my crotch over the chastity belt. Loops that went around my middle fingers kept the sleeves taut and the crotch fastening kept it so it couldn't ride up, keeping the bodice close and wrinkle free. It didn't show much of my cleavage but then that didn't make any difference because my breasts and nipples were clearly visible through the material. My last item of clothing - or submission, I should say - was a black rubber skirt that clamped my thighs together and hobbled my knees. I was obviously not meant to run away from my fate or go anywhere in a hurry.

  The elevator was brightly lit and, as it plummeted down to reception, I was forced to look into the mirrors that surrounded me. I was panting as I acclimatised to this morning's corseting which was making my tits and teats move dramatically under the taut see-through material. But then my outfit was dramatic itself, it skirted the conventions about what and was not allowed during the day. It gave me some comfort that though the large purse I carried had little in it (other than a handkerchief, a communicator, hair brush and credit card) it would at least enable me, in the unlikely event that children were about, to hold it over my breasts. He'd warned me though that if anyone reported seeing me huddling behind it instead of displaying my assets, it would be the crop I felt and not his hand. The lift stopped and the doors opened. Consciously I lifted my head and strode through the foyer. I could feel my butt rolling and my tits moving in syncopation to the hard staccato of my heels on the marble floor. My face was flushing but I knew that at least this was home ground, where BD&SM was the norm. Outside the doors of the hotel was where 'anything can happen' territory began and I felt embarrassed and frightened.

  The doorman slowed the action of calling a cab so he could take his time looking at me. I did my best to ignore him but made sure he got me a Jitney that had the appearance of a London cab of yesteryear. At this time of day the cloaking Tri-D image was like a sign saying that it would be a cab involved in the scene, powered by girls or men who were available for use but at least they would be blinkered and have a bot cab driver. OK, I would spend the journey staring at two bare butts but I could live with that if I didn't have to talk to anyone.

  As the door was held open for me to climb in, I couldn't stop the ass wriggle necessary to do it but I suppose the doorman deserved the odd treat. I certainly wasn't going to give him a tip.

  "Where to, babe?" The bot, its plastic half body sculpted and painted to look like a New York cabbie, recognised that I was female. It felt strange to sit and not have something pushing up into me. Two firm, well muscled female bottom cheeks could be seen either side of him.

  "The Deep Space Training Centre." There was a pause as he assimilated and processed the information. I heard a low grunt and the twin cheeks began to pump as they pushed down on the pedals moving the cab away from the hotel.

  "For a small fee madam can play with the ponies. Push the select buttons on the appropriate side of my column, it's red for pain and green for pleasure. The knob is turned at your desire for intensity. Please note that there is a limiter on the pain button for safety reasons." For the first ten minutes of my journey I resisted the temptation but after all I was going a long way away and these were crims. It was fascinating to see how they jerked and trembled, rising off their seats and showing the dildos impaling them, trying to milk them that touch more to achieve climax. I enjoyed backing it off that little bit to frustrate them every time. Of course I allowed them to orgasm when they arrived, though, as a tip. They were still wailing as the cab moved jerkily off.

  The reception area was large and impressive. Wood block floor and cabinets showing models of various ships, tugs and long voyageurs.

  "Sweet Thing! Supercargo, Gilly Dunlop." The girl was crop-haired and displayed a mannish efficiency in her Navy blues. "Ah yes! Safety procedures, use of internal and external suits and stasis pod maintenance." She hadn't blinked an eyelid at my erotic appearance. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. "Follow the yellow stripe to Room 103. The course starts in ten minutes." And I was dismissed just like that.

  CHAPTER 7

  It felt just like my first day at school. Supercargo Sex Slut and Slave or not I had to earn my keep in other ways too. Some courses would be safety o
rientated and others would be to train me in my duties as crew. I welcomed it for I wasn't sure I could last five years without some other stimulus than sex, though the way my libido seemed to be developing I wondered if this was strictly true. The thought of what that might do to my mind frightened me. A dozen of us sat at desks with notepads and pens to hand. They issued me with a pad as soon as I walked in. The instructor was a square faced stocky man in Navy skivvies with rank badges on his breast. What rank I couldn't tell you, not being familiar with naval matters. He was of indeterminate age, though from the gleam in his eye, not yet past the age of interest. Close cropped iron-grey hair added to the look of military severity, though he had a nice smile that reassured me a bit. Geisha was there, too, but the rest were navy or civilian straights. Geisha, though of course collared, was unrestrained and wore a neat, almost school-girlish outfit. Her beautiful oriental face could indeed have been that of a schoolgirl but her impressive bust belied that. And the way she moved! When she walked to the front to take up her pad it was as though she were cuddling a cock inside her. Perhaps she was, I thought, it wouldn't have surprised me.

  "Now, class," His eyes lingered on my breasts. I wanted to cover myself but it was a futile exercise. Captain Avon had no doubt asked for a report as to my progress and behaviour and slouching would no doubt earn me punishment. No matter how masochistic you are, there are so many variations of pain and humiliation that he would no doubt find one that would linger in my memory and confirm future obedience. I wanted to avoid too much punishment as there was the fear in the back of my mind that too much would turn me into a subservient doll that revelled in pain without a thought of her own. What self-assertiveness I had needed to be hoarded. According to our cards the captain and I were almost too compatible and I had quickly become aware of the risk, I could see myself being overwhelmed.

  "You manually write on your pads to reinforce the process of learning. The Navy is old-fashioned, though and so, though the pads convert and store your scrawls into legible script they also record all errors from punctuation, to spelling, to subject matter. You will repeat the work, hand writing reports until you're perfect. The pass mark here is one hundred percent. Space doesn't cater for ninety-nine percent. It bites you big time! If that appears pedantic or unreasonable, remember that in space, misplacing the decimal point can mean disaster." He stared around the class, no humour or lust showing in his eyes now. "The least is that you kill yourself, the worst is that you kill others." He turned to the blackboard. I wonder why they call them blackboards? The screen was blue. "Oh and remember, this is a Naval Academy and whilst here you are all under Navy discipline. Get course work slightly wrong and you have to repeat it. Get it badly wrong and you could end up serving lunch rather than eating it." He paused before continuing. "Or a whole lot worse!"

  We started with basics first, listing all the safety equipment and its location on board ship. All such equipment is similarly located though homework would be to confirm precise details on our own vessels. The importance and newness of the experience let me forget my body and its condition but the human animal can take in only so much at a time so by lunch-time I was thankful to go with the others to the mess to eat. Geisha and I stayed together. I could still taste her tongue in my mouth and she was a sister under the skin. The others of our class couldn't keep their eyes off us and, dressed as we were, we couldn't help looking and moving provocatively. One of the Navy girls imbued with the spirit of feminine emancipation came up and sat with us. "Isn't there some other way you can emigrate? Wouldn't it be easier to work on skills to get a place on a long voyageur in your own right? Or perhaps you could join the Navy like me." She was a slim elegant girl with black hair, cut in to severe cap shape, one who made no attempt to look attractive but who managed it nonetheless. I felt myself bridling and the Geisha looking disdainful.

  "One, my family doesn't have money like I suspect yours does." I could see a signet ring on her pinky finger, gold, which is common enough to copy but this was inlaid with a rare metal monogram and security chip. Most rich families wear these. Even the poor can look rich but those rings are hard to fake. "Two, I'm no dimbo but neither am I a brain. So the time acquiring a trade or skill and the luck needed to get selected is too great. And three, I don't want to spend my life in space in the Navy, space is a means to an end; not why I'm going deep voyaging." I sounded aggressive, annoyed at her naivety. She flushed and looked disconcerted and I realised that though naive she was a nice girl and actually trying to be friendly. I felt suddenly crass and boorish and tried to change my tone. "I want children. I'm of good genetic stock and genetically unmodified," (Nano-bots don't modify your genes, in fact they have to be stripped from your system before you can have babies.) "So though that's good and makes me attractive breeding stock, other than that all I have are my looks." I shrugged, shook my tits at her and saw her eyes dilate and her neck flush. "And my natural sexual orientation. That makes my duties bearable, and, if I'm lucky, enjoyable. To get me what I want."

  "God, you're brave!" And you know? I really think she meant it!

  In the afternoon we had a demonstration as to how a space suit should be worn. It was for internal use only, a unit for low temperature areas in total or near vacuum conditions. My suspicion is that it was chosen so that the 'straights' could get their first proper look at one of us. Geisha was chosen because her suit was ready for her. (Somebody could wear anybody's suit in an emergency but for comfort they were tailored) and because the suit had to be worn in direct contact with the skin, she had to strip right off. I'd seen her tattoos that showed below her slave collar but even I hadn't seen them in their entirety. They, and she, were a lush poem of adorned femininity. Her clit and labia were vividly tattooed and had been liberally pierced. Well-developed aureoles and nipples had been coloured a rich scarlet. The nipples protruded through bands of gold, slightly swollen and darker because of that. I wondered if they were slipped on like jewellery or secured by pins to her teats. The suit used a similar technology to that of Sim-Leather and their zapper unit was built-in, so that after she fitted the crotch piece in place over her swollen pussy and allowed its self seeking mechanism to locate into her butt and urethra, she climbed in to the suit and had it zapped to tighten it. These suits weren't just clothing, they were high tech and you could tighten these precisely to fit the slightest change in your body shape. Her tattoos were completely hidden again but she still looked like sex in wheels. I wondered if I would look as good as Geisha in one of these units.

  That first day was like being at school again. By the end of the day, though, my tits felt tender and aching and I knew I needed to be suckled. I could have asked Geisha to ease my load but we had been split into teams and she was kept occupied by hers. Any of the men would have been eager to help me out but that was a route I didn't want and was too embarrassed to go down. Miss Elegant, Juanita, was in my team and she was the only one I might have had the nerve to ask. I'd noticed how she flushed when looking at me but that was still only slightly better than the men. As it was, the ache continued to build and I got hornier and hornier. Shifting in my seat and clenching my pussy at the same time as I contracted my thighs sometimes made my heavy clit ring jerk against the rigid covering of the belt. But that only built my arousal as it frustrated me. I tried going to the toilet, making my heels hit the floor like hammer blows as I walked to make the covered clit ring jerk and wobble but though it did, as did my heavy tender tits, that too only made it worse. When I got to the toilet, though the belt allowed me to pee, it wouldn't even allow a straining fingertip to touch my swollen clit.

  When we were dismissed I moved fast, tucked my pad away in my purse and ran for the Jitney ranks. This time it was a standard unit and I didn't care that it was two heavily muscled and horny straights intent on lechery, powering it, I just wanted to be back at the hotel. My tits ached to sweet distraction and my pussy was flooding, I was sure they could smell my arousal, they sniffed the air like dogs and I could do
nothing! I was out of the cab in an instant and past the doorman as fast as my taut shiny skirt would allow.

  I felt relief flood through me when I entered the penthouse suit. Captain Jude Avon sat calmly at a table, making notes in a pad not too dissimilar to the one I'd been issued with.

  "Master, suckle my tits and fuck me!" There was little of the meek sub in the demand. He said not a word but grasped my wrists and, in a trice, had me cuffed and taut to a hook on the wall, one of the many provided as standard room fittings in this hotel. He shucked off my skirt and left me dangling on tiptoe. I couldn't shut up, "Fuck and suckle me Master!" I learnt for the first time just how much I had been made a slave to my own needs.

  "You appear to have lost any idea how a slut like you should deport herself. I suggest you consider how you should ask anything of me and when you have decided just how that you should be, you should also decide just how you deserve to be punished for your current behaviour!" I had heard him but not taken his words in. I had turned and was humping the wall now, trying to get some contact that would bring me off. It was pointless.

  "Master, may I make a request?" I was desperate but forced to think.

  "Carry on, Slut."

  "Would you suck my tits and fuck me please, Master?" I almost moaned as I begged for relief. Another time I would have blushed at the words but the need was on me.

  "That's better, Cunt, but what punishment should you receive for your behaviour?" Again the crudity should have made me blush, especially because he said it like a name.