Tormented Passage

by Richard Carradine

  The Spartan surroundings of the maintenance cabin weren't too uncomfortable and the suits kept us warm. And though it was going to take us at least twenty-four hours to reach top-side, the view made up for it. I felt like a flea wrenched from his hairy home to see for the first time the doggy unity of his world. The curvature was slowly turning into a globe and eventually the earth would become a rich blue with the whites of the clouds painting its sphere. I felt incredibly small and sickeningly homesick. We had come so close to ruining the cradle of man and even now the work went on. It was the renewal of the Earth's resources that was powering our expansion, too. Without those incoming resources currently being lowered to earth to help lift us out of the gravity well, it would have been nearly impossible to lift the loads necessary for the deep space exploration or the long voyage.

  I leaned with my forearms against the Superglaz, entranced by the expanding vista, trying to see the sunset racing towards us but as high as we were, we weren't high enough yet. It was comforting to feel his hands on my butt. Vertigo wasn't a problem, we were so high but I felt so insignificant that I needed the comfort. My right breast was captured and his mouth was on my teat valve. I felt the drain and shivered with pleasure. It made me aware just how tightly I was corseted, how stuffed and full I was, how well trained I had become. Unconsciously I had been pussy clenching. It was a long day but one of delights. Halfway there and before we were forced to helmet up we sat in half G and ate and drank a meal from the hot box brought with us. To save weight for freight and passengers the elevators didn't have the gravity control systems that top-side or most ships have. We chatted like old friends but he didn't let me rest. He did everything he could to excite and deny me, suckling and teasing, pushing the crotch unit deeper into me, stirring me, causing the vibrations that would torment and frustrate me. He kept me teetering on the edge of an orgasm until I wanted to scream with frustration. We were down to a quarter of full earth gravity when I realised it was a game that a slave slut could legitimately play herself too. Now I began to fight my mindless arousal and stroke and fondle him too as I breathed sweet obscenities in his ears. It was a strange sensation; after we had to helmet up and with reflected earth light shining on his helmet it became the Earth I was making love to and not a man.

  I arrived at Beta top-side totally rung out. Sex in zero or near zero gravity is a whole different scene. OK, because we were suited up we couldn't have man to woman penetrative sex and my master didn't have any relief at all, just frustration. But I fucked myself with the plug and dildo fitted to my crotch piece time and time again. Without gravity it was as though, confined by corset and skin-tight suit, I was just one erogenous zone, it was sensory deprivation in reverse. My body consisted only of overloaded teats, clit and G spot.

  We were ejected from the elevator like a cartridge from a gun but it was less traumatic because we were in zero gravity. Thankfully my tight corset seemed to help keep my stomach stable and when our cabin docked with a lock, the Top-side manager, a little butterball of a man in tight skivvies that made me think of old fashioned Long Johns, was there to greet us. Captain Avon is a person of note, any long voyageur with more than one trip under their belt is and he was an owner too. Gravity was brought up to earth norm and it felt funny to feel the flesh of your body settle back on your bones. The tightness of my suit and the corset under it had stopped my body changing shape too dramatically but even so my breasts dropped into a more normal shape and position as it came on. If gravity caused my big breasts to be less globular and stop them floating, it did no favours to the manager's fat little body. He was nimble, though, and led us to a shuttle port so that we could join 'Sweet Thing!' As the hatch closed I realised that if I ever was to return to Earth, this cheerful man would long be dust and, illogically, tears filled my eyes. The captain saw them and said, "There was a long march of native American Indians back in the nineteenth century referred to the as the Trail of Tears. Tears are part of the long voyageur's psyche, too." and then was silent.

  CHAPTER 9

  I lay on the bed looking at the ceiling. My naked reflection in the mirror looked back at me. By now I was well used to seeing myself in way-out costumes and bondage but for once all that I wore was my collar. That rarely came off and only then to allow something even more over the top. As I lay there I thought about my new life and the last few days. It was bizarre and every day brought a new twist of masochistic pleasure that deepened my knowledge of myself. It was a strange life built upon uncertainty. That was half expected, I seemed to crave it even as I dreaded it. Though it was the distrust of 'Sweet Thing!' or rather the artificial intelligence that gave her a sort of life, that really had me worried.

  Three days had passed since we had transferred from top-side to the ship. Captain Avon had been immersed in the business of getting her ready to be mated with the drop ship and I had been set the task of setting to rights the chaos caused by the presence of dockyard workers on board ship. He had obviously decided that I was to take up and play out the role I had signed up for with a vengeance. We slept for a few hours once we actually arrived on board but, on waking, I was set to my duties almost immediately. My uniform had more than a hint of maid. Corset covered by a tight long sleeved bodice with frills that left my tits bare and available, whilst whittling me to breaking point. Bootees that kept me on tiptoe and shiny black stockings held up by six taut suspenders, a tiny skirt that left my ass half exposed and my pussy completely bare. My wrists were chained to my collar so that my movements were restricted and my mouth was filled with a large ball gag that was held and locked in place by a head harness on top of which sat a tiny white maid's cap.

  "Now, Slut, you're to be another pair of hands for 'Sweet Thing!' to help her get all ship shape and Bristol fashion." I wasn't sure what Bristol fashion meant at the time and I stopped wondering as he bent forward and suckled my tit until I groaned. Equally I wasn't sure that, hobbled as my hands were and because of the shortness of the chain between collar and wrist, I qualified as 'another' pair of hands. One thing was certain I wasn't able to question him. "Remember, now you're on board ship, naval discipline applies. Slack or poor performance will result in punishment. She will direct you to your tasks and encourage and reward you just as I would with the dildo." I parted my legs to receive my fat heavy controller. Wetness had been immediately engendered as always when he suckled me and I had ceased being coy, (Coyness in a submissive sex slut is superfluous to requirements.) It slid easily into its slick wet home. Automatically I clenched hard to hold it there. His hands hadn't done with my pussy though, and he attached a fine chain from my clit ring to a mobile unit that floated on a gravity field. Fine or not, it felt heavy.

  "Bring her back at thirteen hundred hours for lunch. She'll need to be fed and milked. I'll probably want to fuck her too."

  "Come along, Slut, first I must ensure you are familiar with my interior if you're going to be of use to us on theis voyage." 'Sweet Thing's' voice was as soft and vibrant as ever but it brooked no resistance and somehow I got the impression she wasn't pleased that the Captain would be using me. She obviously didn't think it was a valid use. She managed to jerk my clit as she set off, making me gasp and jerk into motion. I caught up quickly in fear of a shredded clit. It may be considerably larger than it originally was, too large now to be covered by its hood, but even more sensitive than before. The small globe with its blue and white anodised surface looked almost like a child's toy but I was rapidly to come to hate it.

  We went around the ship inch by inch with 'Sweet Thing's' soft sexy, warm tones, instructing, scolding and praising me via a speaker on the mobile unit. It was free to go at any speed and direction but hobbled as I was by high heels, corset and chained wrists, it wasn't so easy for me and it gave the impression of a frustrated bee, always buzzing and jerking, precise in its movements and stopping short of actual pain but always threatening it. The ladders and steps were particularly awkward to cope with but I did. The clit chain ensured that I
was aware of my bum, swaying and rolling as I clenched hard on the dildo's fatness, struggling to retain it inside me. My pussy grip switched it on, causing a low background vibration to build, increasing my wetness and making it harder still to retain it. The gag, though, ensured I didn't protest. If I did start to slow 'Sweet Thing!' made sure I tried harder by encouraging me with shocks to pussy or clit via dildo or chain. In some ways, rewarding me for keeping up was even harder than the shocks. The vibration, transmitted by the chain to my clit, increased the arousal the vibrating dildo caused and made retention of the slippery shaft harder than ever. I wanted to hate this, too, because it ensured that after a climax I would be slow and awkward and made more shocking inevitable. But the pleasure was too great. It was a cycle that seemed to repeat itself ad infinitum, exacerbated by the questions she would ask, questions phrased because of my gag, so I could answer with a yes or no. The manner of my response would have been ridiculous if it had been anyone else other than me responding. "One squeeze for 'Yes' and two squeezes for 'No'!" She commanded in her soft hateful voice. The ache it built in my belly ensured that I had nothing to laugh about.

  At last we came back to the Captain's mess just as the ship's cook delivered a meal for us from its metal stomach. I was hungry and exhausted, my jaws had long gone numb and my tits were painfully full. He made no attempt to free me, though, and instead refreshed himself from my breasts. That at least got rid of one area of discomfort. Near to collapse, yet how the sensations thrilled me, I experienced a sequence of orgasms that had me almost fainting but my body seemed to have no limits. Every cell of my body seemed on edge, even my teeth tingled. Satisfied with his drink, I was turned and bent over the edge of his desk. The dildo was pulled from me, making me whimper at the shock of cool air filling my hot wetness before it closed. Then the aftershock as his cock pushed its way into my butt.

  "Nnnn! Nnnn! Nnnn! Nnnn!" My still half full breasts were mashed against the desktop and my ringed clit was mashed against the edge of the desk. My bottom felt so stretched, once I had hated the thought and feeling of being buggered, now my body revelled in it. And still 1 wanted more! "Nnnnnnnneeeee!" The climax was monumental; then as it peaked for a few seconds I fainted.

  The desktop swam into view as my eyes re-focused and 1 managed to stand on trembling legs as he removed my gag.

  "I hope you've had a good morning." My jaws were too stiff for me to respond and I felt dumb struck at how calm and ordinary he could sound. He actually seemed to care. He wanted to me to enjoy my humiliation and degradation by his machine. I worked painful life back into my jaw as I almost collapsed on to the stool by his side. Thankfully my sex was left empty as he fed me.

  Humiliated, degraded, my pussy still a-flutter from the series of climaxes that had been forced upon me, I found myself pushing my tits towards his hands as he caressed me while I chewed and swallowed.

  The afternoon was to be a repeat performance of the morning until I was brought back to Captain Avon so that 'Sweet Thing!' could report on my performance. No fact was untrue but neither did they tell the whole story. In addition to the few actual errors brought about by nervousness, arousal or exhaustion, every pause or hesitation had been seized upon as a failing, every variation away from correct terminology was a wrong answer. In the evening, after the dinner that I served, I stood by his side so he could cup and stroke my butt as he considered my performance.

  "Over the chair, Slut!" Un-gagged for once, I opened my mouth to protest but I saw the look on his face and realised he took her word above mine. Strapped tight in place, I could do nothing to resist, it was the tawse he used, not his hand this time and six of the best were applied with vigour. Each had to be counted and a follow-up requested. The six seemed to take a long time and my ass felt on fire. Finally, though, he was done but I was left strapped in place. It made it worse not to be able to rub my bottom or jiggle about. My red bum aroused him again though and he fucked me until his hot cum sent me screaming into another orgasm. I hung over the chair back, limp and satiated. I wanted peace, I was tired and momentarily satiated but satiation was a condition I had started to realise was only ever temporary.

  That night I cuddled against his back and when I woke at about four GMT I was thankful that my chain allowed me to reach his night erection and took comfort in sucking it until I had him moaning for release. Then I took my pleasure in dominating him.

  Day two was a repeat of the first except that 'Sweet Thing!' came up with an idea that was an expansion of the two for 'Yes' and one for 'No'. She thought it would be a good thing if she could communicate with me in an emergency, even if I was gagged. Have you heard of 'Morse Code'? Morse Code dates back from the days of communication via copper wires by means of short and long electrical pulses and was used by sailors on the 'wet'. Its quite long winded process but I learnt it in a day. My pussy felt frazzled and my tummy ached as never before by the time she had done with me. She would shock me with various patterns of short and long pulses, tell me what it represented and make me send back to her via the dildo. Even funnier than before' ha? Not if it's your pussy that's playing the music. Of course she was clever, she didn't report as many faults as day one but enough to ensure I got another six for not improving fast enough. It was humiliating to see just how the added pain and degradation aroused me. I could feel her optics watching me and noting my reactions. I began to worry just how submissive she and he would force me to be.

  Today, though, was different. The Captain and I suited up ready for the mating of 'Sweet Thing!' and the drop vessel, then whilst he stayed aboard, I was let out in an escape pod to float free of the ship. Again he had surprised me, it was that mixture of dispassionate use and kindly consideration that confused me. At times he would step outside our master-slave relationship and treat me as a person with thoughts and feelings to be considered and at other times I was simply a toy to be played with and then my feelings and desires were never considered. It was my first time in space, no that's silly, I was in space as soon as I left the Earth's atmosphere. I had seized the opportunity, though, to watch the mating of 'Sweet Thing!' with the drop-ship from the outside as it were, as soon as he suggested I might. This then was to be my first time in space without the security of a ship or a top-side space station.

  'Sweet Thing!' farted the pod containing this greenhorn and it puffed away from the ship on a low pressure jet of air. It was too small to have a stasis gravity field and my tummy was doing little flips, warning me that I might just be sick, unlikely as it was, thank God, as the air in the pod contained a drug to stop you heaving. It wasn't perfect and I was thinking of spending the next hour or so in a pod no bigger than a coffin (Not a nice simile) filled with vomit when the sight of the Earth and the drop-ship completely distracted me. A basic program controlled the jets that held the pod in a geo-stationary position to top-side some miles away. How many I don't know because I had no real idea how big that part, the Beta elevator, is. I knew how big 'Sweet Thing!' was, though, for she hung not a few hundred metres away. I saw jets of gas stream from ports and she turned slowly and silently to orientate herself and then small manoeuvring jets fired up. She moved slowly away from me, leaving me hanging alone in space, feeling scared. I knew, though, that I only had to push the panic button and, as the Captain had told me, someone would take over the pods control system from 'Sweet Thing!' and bring me in. I thought of her dislike of me and for a moment wondered for a moment if she had somehow busted the control software so the pod wouldn't operate. I shook myself, I was in an unreal situation and role but at no time has an AI ever killed or significantly injured a human being. She had gone as far as she had because of her knowledge of the game the Captain and I were involved in.

  Shifting patterns of blue and white shimmered across the bright side of 'Sweet Thing!' as the Earth's light was reflected off her beautiful manta shape. As she sunk away from me I began to realise just how big the dull mass of the drop-ship was. Her bulk cut out a significant portion of the E
arth's sphere but previously I had simply though she was closer than she was. In my mind what I had considered the massive bulk of 'Sweet Thing!' shrunk as the drop-ship swelled. It was an awesome sight. 'Sweet Thing!' did another graceful swooping pirouette and suddenly became a fish shaped badge on a huge thick oval. 'Sweet Thing!' had mated with her drop-ship.

  My journey back to the long voyageur increased my sense of awe as slowly I neared them both. As my position changed, the drop ship turned from oval to circle to a fat line and Earth's light showed her true colours. The bright badge that was 'Sweet Thing!' had taken on tints of blue and red and sat towards the edge on one long side of the oval. The oval's mid section was painted red and the two lobes were bright silver. As I came near, my pod sunk below the drop-ship and I realised that what had seemed slim in comparison with her width was some ten or twelve stories high.

  He handed his slave slut a cup of coffee and I sipped gratefully. "Well what did you think of the mating?"

  "It was awesome. And 'Sweet Thing!' looked so beautiful!" I hadn't meant to praise her but she had been overwhelming and the truth will out.

  "Thank you, Ginny." 'Sweet Thing!' sounded smugly pleased and for the first time she called me by my name.

  "She's moving us to the assembly point to join with the other long voyageurs as we speak. Tonight we party and tomorrow we start the voyage.

  I lay looking at my reflection, remembering the truly awesome sight of the other eleven vessels hanging in formation in space, like a small solar system in its own right. I realised what Captain Avon had said about 'Sweet Thing!' being fully atmospheric. A large portion of her size was the various drives and generators that made her so. These smaller pilot ships had a functional square almost architectural beauty of their own but they would never ride an atmosphere or land on a planet. 'Sweet Thing!' was the swan amongst the ugly ducks. Tomorrow we would all be off. My voyage had been irrevocable as soon as I had signed on, even more so when I reached top-side but now full reality hit me. I felt a shiver of loneliness pass though me but drew comfort from the knowledge that Mum and Dad would be there, waiting for me if I were to return. My thoughts turned to me and of the long voyage ahead. In the short six weeks since I had first visited the bot that trained me for my role I had changed and been changed a lot.