Slave World 2 - The Ties That Bind

by Johnny Stone

  “God he stinks. For that matter the whole ship stinks. I don’t think we’re going to get our deposit back on this one.”

  “You know what you need?”

  “I need a lot of things, but what? Please say you’re going to drop dead.”

  “How does a soothing, hot shower sound?”

  “Speak for yourself, you smell like a fresh pile of shit. Besides, it’s broke along with everything else on this piece of crap, or I would have taken one by now.”

  “What if I fixed it? Will you lighten up a bit and relax for a change?”

  “You can do that?”

  “Of course, I can. All I did was deactivate a sequencer on the control board just after liftoff. I’ll fix the environmental system along with it.”

  “You did what? You mean I’ve been sweating my ass and smelling yours for the three days, and it’s your fault? You fucking asshole! What the hell is your problem?”

  Wroth was grinning all over himself at this point.

  “Guess I have this thing for sweaty women, it turns me on. There’s nothing like smelling a ripe, young woman in heat, brewing in her own juices.”

  “You sick old bastard! Ugh… goddamn, you piss me off. I should knock your teeth down your throat for pulling some stupid crap like that.”

  “Do want a shower or not?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well then, why don’t you go set a course for station PT-51 and I’ll get right to work on it.”

  “Why PT-51, why not back to Tallin? It’s closer.”

  “Maybe so, but Fleet’s looking for the Colonel and I’m not about to hand deliver him to those dumbasses on a silver platter. Besides, I have friends there.”

  “Whatever, just let me know when you get the shower working. I’ll be in the cockpit.” Snake stormed off, shaking her head as she flopped heavily into the pilot’s seat.

  “Goddamn that man pisses me off,” she breathed out loudly. “I can’t believe he disabled it on purpose.”

  “I heard that Snake,” Wroth’s voice echoed from the rear of the shuttle. “Best be nice if you want your shower.”

  “Shove it up your ass!” Distant laughter answered her.

  Somehow that old pervert knew she was menstruating. Could he really smell it? Snake knew she smelled bad, but damn! Guys must have some kind of built in radar for detecting that, or something.

  She changed course and the small shuttle made its way lazily back to the system jump point. Ten minutes later Wroth was standing behind her.

  “All fixed, good as new. Got rid of the suit too, the thing was trashed, completely fubar. I couldn’t even call up a self test on it.”

  “You’re really a piece of work, you know that? How many times have you been married, anyway – two, three?”

  Snake stood up, inching her way past him in the cockpit doorway. A hard lump brushed against her hip in the process and she pretended to ignore it.

  “Four times, actually. I guess they could never see my hidden charm.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me, I don’t see it either. I’m going to take a shower. The course has already been plotted and we’ll hit the jump point in a little over twenty six hours.”

  Snake made her way back to the small shower cubical stripping off her sweat-soaked pants and blouse. She sat down on the small bench beside the shower and unhooked the clasp of her damp bra, letting it join the other discarded clothing on the floor. A few moments of massaging her sweaty, pear shaped breasts after being cooped up so long, felt like a welcome treat. In the process of pulling off her boots, with one leg cocked up at an angle, Snake got a good whiff of the sharp, musky odor between her legs.

  “Yep, he can smell it alright. Damn this shower is going to feel good.”

  She sat quietly in her panties for a few moments, slumped over with her eyes closed, letting the tension of the last few days drain away, simply thinking. She couldn’t ignore it any longer; being in close proximity with Wroth the last week had been agonizing in a lot of ways. It was like he could read her mind, knowing exactly how to push all her buttons, and some of those buttons hadn’t been touched in a very long time. He didn’t take shit from anyone either, not even her, he never had. She had come to respect him for it in a weird sort of way. Besides, there was something about that old pervert she could not quite put her finger on… Something that made her tingle. Something that made her feel clean and innocent again.

  She’d fought against the urge for so long, like a lifetime of forced isolation. She didn’t count the drunken one-night stand six years ago, she didn’t even know his name, and before that… she shook her head, clearing that foggy trace of something contained behind a cold and emotionless, steel exterior.

  “Fucking hormones,” she cursed.

  Wroth would do. He really wasn’t that bad of a guy, and he happened to be more than willing at the moment, the persistent bulge in his pants attested to that. The fact that he desired her at all, even if for nothing but a single time of no strings attached sex, made her feel things she’d forced into remission for more than fifteen years.

  Snake stood suddenly growing slightly anxious and a little nervous as she slipped her panties down and off a pair of boyish hips. Her eyes narrowed, noticing the dark red stain in the crotch – she’d leaked through.

  “Goddammit!”

  “What’s wrong?” Wroth’s voice sounded faintly from the cockpit.

  “Nothing…just mind your own damn business.”

  In the rush to leave Tallin, she had forgotten to bring her flow inhibiting pills and as luck would have it; this was the last one of her archaic tampons she still used on rare occasions. She’d just have to wash her panties out in the basin from now on.

  Snake took one last deep breath, having second thoughts, still not sure if she should or could go through with it or not. It had been so long… Did she even remember how to do it?

  “Hell with it.” It’s just sex, and what did she have to lose? Satisfy the urge then let it go, and him.

  “Hey Wroth?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Come here.”

  “What do you want? I’m busy.”

  Snake growled, he wasn’t making this easy for her.

  “Just get your stinking ass back here; I have to ask you something.”

  “Goddamn, Snake, you’re worse than my second wife, not a moment’s peace and she…”

  Wroth’s voice trailed off becoming a grumbling drone of profanity. A few moments later he rounded the corner, coming to a sudden halt in the shower doorway. His gaze roamed over her slim athletic body, openly appraising it with a sly grin. He always had liked the small ones with broad shoulders, and the muscle tone of a side of prime cut beef.

  “Well that answers one of the questions that have been nagging at me for years; the carpet does match the drapes.”

  Snake scowled, and she crossed her arms about her chest in embarrassment.

  “You’re unbelievable, you know that? No wonder you can’t keep a woman around for very long.”

  “Just curious, was all. You never took showers with the rest of us. For that matter, you didn’t associate with anyone in the Regiment. Look, what do you want? You’ve succeeded in giving me another hard-on, thank you very much, but I still have some work to do on the environmental system and I’m beat.”

  The bags under his blood shot eyes seemed even more pronounced, giving his face a hound dog like appearance.

  “I was just wondering since you did get the shower working and… I was wondering if maybe…”

  “What? Spit it out already. You sound like a slack jawed...”

  “Look, asshole, I’m trying to ask you if you want to take a shower with me.”

  Wroth’s eyes narrowed skeptically.

  “Why? Since when did you become the sociable type? I don’t have time to play games, and I don’t care for a prick tease at the moment. The shower cubicle isn’t big enough for the both of us and you know it.”

  “I’m not pla
ying games, I’m serious.”

  “You know we’re going to be bumping cheeks in there, don’t you?”

  “I know that.”

  She licked her lips nervously, pulse racing.

  “And at some point were going to the touching one another, maybe even helping each other wash?”

  Snake’s voice changed, becoming deep and hungry, thick with her distinctive brogue.

  “Yeah… that might happen too.”

  “Intimate areas?”

  At least he was asking first, spelling it out to make sure that was what she wanted in fact. Maybe there actually was a gentleman under all that filth?

  “Yeah.”

  Wroth’s pursed his lips, shaking his head, staring down at his feet, deep in thought.

  “I don’t know, Snake, you kind of hurt my feeling earlier. I’m a sensitive guy deep down inside.”

  “Oh give me a break! Do you want to have sex or not?”

  “Well, since you asked so politely, how can I say no?”

  “You’re a fucking nut job, Wroth, just get in here before I change my mind.”

  He looked up with a relaxed smile, beginning to unsnap his shirt.

  “Call me James.”

  ***

  I’d been a fool to think that I knew what slavery was until now, the normal rules of the game no longer applied to me, as I quickly discovered. The Holloway Company, Master Michael, or any of the Landowners on Slave World for that matter, were outright amateurs when compared to Alex’s cold and emotionally vindictive views. Actually, I was less than a slave to him – I was an animal, a tool, a primitive sub-human freak. The newly awoken primal aspect of my nature happily slipped into my new role.

  My relationship with Master Michael and being a slave pony had been a close second, but I still had stolen moments of respite with that sissy-boy Nathan where I felt almost human, and at times on equal terms. A slave on equal terms with their Master… what a ridiculous concept. In a sense I was still free then, at least spiritually, and with Master Michael I had value as a slave, and a sense of cherished purpose, it’s what I’d been created and trained for, but it was nothing like this, not even close. It should come as no surprise, that in time I began to think like a simple beast, becoming my namesake, I was already heading down that path long before Alex sunk his claws into my hairy ass.

  My life was controlled and mandated down to the smallest detail, now. I was fed and watered from a bowl. I was allowed a mere six hours of sleep in a twenty-four hour period, where I curled up in a ball on the floor like a rat in its nest. I was denied use of the refresher, a beast wallows in its own filth, and I have to admit the pungent stench of sweaty sex and spent passion lingering in the air around me was intoxicating in a way. I was led to an improvised toilet on a leash at predetermined times, based on Alex’s analysis of my bodily functions. He wasn’t always correct in this sense either. The first time I couldn’t hold it any longer, Alex chastised my lack of control, scolding me like a dog, and I felt ashamed at my weakness vowing to do better from now on. Cherise, my new Keeper, was responsible for cleaning me up afterwards.

  I was helpless and totally dependent on her for everything. I couldn’t see due to a leather hood. My arms were bound in my old pony mittens in front of me like a third leg, useless for anything more than support. I was gagged most times, beasts weren’t allowed to communicate with higher beings, other than in the primitive language of a pony.

  The worst part by far was trying to sleep while being persistently aroused. I continually found myself waking from my dreams of perpetual sex, playing with myself, grinding my thighs together for relief to appease my body’s needs, before falling back into a restless slumber. The pleasure from my remote never went away now, it ebbed and flowed instead, culminating in a massive release from one orgasm to the next that left me stranded in a void that I never wanted to return from. All I cared about any longer was the next orgasm, the next moment of blissful relief to make the painful urge temporarily diminish, before it started all over again.

  It was like being trapped in a wonderful Hell of euphoria, where the desires of my body, and the dark perversity I’d always craved, were finally reality. There was no mercy and no compassion for me any longer, leaving only the obedience of a mindless beast in its place. I was finally in a place where my pain and pleasure ruled supreme, never ending, as it was brutally ripped from my body. Simply put, I was an object of ridicule to dominate, with a single, degrading purpose in life – to cum.

  I still hadn’t actually seen the machine cocooning me in a world of cold, heartless metal for roughly twelve hours each day, while I was milked like a cow of my ‘orgasmic fluid’. It was unbelievable, as if a slice of sadistic rapture was shoved down my throat, hand crafted specifically for me, as I was used like never before.

  The faint sound and vacuum pull of suction tickling my inner thighs and pussy…

  The subtle droning of hydraulics from the fucking attachment…

  The overload of pleasurable suffering crisscrossing my body…

  The entire contraption was degradation at its best, borne straight from Alex’s scientific imagination, twisted delusions, and scratch built with supplies on board the shuttle and purchased sex toys. I was powerless on hands and knees, with a metal spreader wedged between my thighs keeping them splayed wide and inviting. A metal corset of sorts, lined with sharp metal pins was wrapped around my chest. It was just tight enough that when I gasped for air or let the rocking motion of the enormous, hammering dildo guide the motion of my body, that the delicate flesh of my breasts was abused by a hundred bee stings. There had to be longer ones resting directly against my tender nipples, because the sensation of pain in them never went away. The pain… so wonderful… so liberating. I cried and came, and I began to stop caring.

  The end of the corset looped up between my legs from underneath, becoming a devilishly constructed spreader in itself. The burning ache of my swollen pussy, while it was pounded into ruin by a relentless piston, was only secondary to the intermittent biting of sharp metal teeth that dug savagely into my whimpering outer lips, spreading them wide in a mournful pout of forced ecstasy.

  There was an Electro-Anal hook seated deep in my ass. It was secured snuggly to my collar by a chain, and stretched my sphincter open with the tension of a mouth waiting to be stuffed, while pulling my head back at an uncomfortable angle. The whole while it generated pulsating shocks of misery-laced pleasure from the ball-tip seated against my g-spot, drowning me in a realm of sexual stimulation that I couldn’t ignore. And to think, all of this was so Alex could collect my cum and refine it, concentrate it, and put it into Cherise’s discharge reservoir so that sex with her was more realistic. It would have been much easier for him just to do it the old fashion way, and to be honest I really wouldn’t have cared if he did. Apparently I was much too dirty and undeserving to fuck any longer. In a way, I guess you could say he was doing it vicariously; when she came, it was my cum, my scent, my passion covering his cock with every moan of release. Whatever works; it was the same result for me, and it’s not like I really had a choice in the matter.

  I shivered motionlessly in the machine, whimpering pitifully while I continued to cum. To do much more than that meant my pinpricked and bleeding breasts and inflamed inner lips would only suffer more torment. Besides, I didn’t have the energy left for anything but simple grunts, a gasping breath, or a pitiful moan, as my pelvic muscles burned from another violent contraction. Being both physically and mentally exhausted was an understatement on my part; even I have limits, and it didn’t help matters that the inflamed, raw itch between my legs only seemed to be getting progressively worse. My pussy must look as red as an apple and as soggy as a dishtowel by now, but that’s what happens when it’s never given a chance to recover after three days of continual fucking. I’d already consoled myself with the fact that this is how it was going to be for the rest of my life.

  No! I… We can’t take it! We’ve barely been a
ble to handle the last several days, let alone a month, or years. We’ll be a drooling vegetable by then.

  Perhaps we will, I hissed evilly. The beast will serve, and cum, and nothing more; that’s why it exists, that’s what I was created for. You have to trust me that I’ll take care of us now, as I always have in times like this; I may look different, but it’s still me. I’ll do what I must in order to survive, as I’ve always done while you slept.

  No… I can’t… Nathan, please come back. Save me… protect me…

  Shush! He’s gone, and it’s only us again, so stop all this cry-baby shit. Damn, you’ve grown weak over the years, even worse than before, and it’s all because of him. You should be cursing his name, instead of pleading for something that’s never going to happen. You still don’t get it, do you, you ignorant hick? There’s no choice this time; you have to let me, let the beast in us run free. You have to let me grow stronger, because that’s the only way we’ll survive, until…

  Until?

  Until the time is right, and we can escape, of course. We have to hold on, burying our dreams of open skies and green pastures deep down inside for the time being. Let me revel in our misery, for now, for them, and if you’re a good girl and do as I say, then maybe it will be your turn again soon.

  You’re right, you’re always right. We have to keep them safe. We saw they were real on the auto-doc display, nearly a month old. So precious… We still can’t believe they’re real… Nathan’s two little girls have to be born free. I don’t even want to think of what he’d do to them when they get older.

  You know exactly what that bastard will do to them; he’ll hurt them if we’re bad. He’ll hurt them because he enjoys it, and one day turn them into pony fuck-toys like us. Our foals deserve to run free under the sun, to graze and breed with whom they wish, not chained and caged like we are.

  We’ll never let that happen, will we?