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This chapter contains... 

If you are below the arbitrary legal age set for your area, or if for any other reason it is illegal for you to read a fictional story containing elements of sex, bondage, torture, sexual conditioning and other potentially unpleasant elements, then please do not read this story.

Copyright (c) 2000 Trystl. All Rights Reserved.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written
permission of the author. 

All the characters and events in this story are fiction; any resemblance to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

Codes: 
---------------------------------------------------- 

Conditioned for Torture

Chapter Three 
Of
The War with Lospodas

By Trystl


1

It surprised Loreena to find the colonel still waiting for her as she left the room where her sister was. He began walking and she fell into step beside him, walking in silence. 

The silence became very long... after a moment Loreena couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“What now?” She asked. 

They came to a corner that was blocked off with a floor wet sign. A naked Amorian was laying down a coat of wax on the floor. Loreena didn’t recognize her breeding, but she was almost certain the Amorian was older than she looked, for she could have passed for prepubescent. Among the sterile hybrid races, in particular, it was not uncommon for an adult to look more like a child, both in their face and anatomical features. It was difficult for Loreena to think of them as adults, even the ones she’d gotten to know at Leskral had never quite seemed like adults to her. This one had an older look than many such hybrids that she had meet. In the face, she looked about the same age as Loreena; and her breasts, though very small, were well defined. But she was very small of stature, and with her genitalia exposed, it was obvious that the rest of her sexual characteristics were completely undeveloped.

“That’s up to you, isn’t it,” the colonel said. 

Loreena looked over at him and he nodded his head with what seemed like a friendly smile, to indicate that they would take another route to where they were going. “You are free to leave... or I can show you to a room that has been set aside for your sister. It is big enough for the both of you, if you should decide to stay.”

“And then what?”

“There are numerous chores and responsibilities involved in running Lospodas. I’m sure we can find one that will suit your talents and temperament. And of course, as a friend of Lospodas, you will have the freedom of the compound when you are not working. There are a variety of activities available that might interest you. Of course, you won’t be able to go into certain restricted areas; but it shouldn’t be to difficult to keep yourself entertained and still stay out of trouble. 

“Your other alternative is to leave,” the colonel said. “You are free to do so at any time, as you always have been.”

Loreena shrugged. “Where would I go?” 

“That would be up to you, wouldn’t it.” The colonel’s smile grew. He knew she didn’t really have a choice. 

“If you stay, however, you will be required to earn your keep; and as part of that, for the next several days until your sister has recovered, I will be placing you into the care of another colonel. A colonel Jasten.”

“Why?” 

Colonel Baisurd smiled. “This is only partially a punishment,” he said. “One you have earned with the anti-social behavior you’ve exhibited since you’ve been at Lospodas. But in a more practical, and important way, it’s also a gift. I want you to know how some of the other colonel’s treat their charges. Then perhaps, you will fully appreciate the comparative leniency of your treatment under my protection.” 

They came to a door and he stopped. 

“If you decide to stay, you will have a few hours during each of the next few days to visit your sister; but, you will spend the rest of your waking and sleeping time under colonel Jasten’s control. During these few days, you will be completely under his rule, and therefore, during that time, you will not be able to leave Lospodas.”

She looked down the hall the way they had come. Away from the doorway, away from him. “Is this the room? Mikki’s room?” 

He didn’t answer, just pushed the door open on a large, luxurious apartment. Loreena could see plush carpets, finely carved furniture, and expensive decorations, all visible from where she stood in the hall. She was shocked that the colonel would give Mikki and her such a luxurious room, but if the colonel noticed her reaction he didn’t comment on it.

“When can I see Mikki again?”

“Have you chosen to stay then,” he said, ignoring her question.

Loreena looked at the floor and nodded.

“Colonel Jasten will send someone to collect you, then. In the meantime, I suggest you try to get some sleep. Colonel Jasten can be cruel, and very demanding, and while I find a little independence refreshing, Colonel Jasten absolutely will not tolerate insolence. While you are in his care I would advise you to be respectful, listen carefully whenever you are spoken to and do as he and his representatives say, immediately and without hesitation.”

The colonel turned then, and left her in the hall. 

She watched him walk away, then entered her new apartment and took a quick tour of the rooms. The carpets were delightfully thick. She removed her shoes, rubbing her toes across the soft fluffy fibers as she walked to the bar which was built into the wall near the dining table. It was stocked with bottles of every shape and color she could imagine. Most of the names were unfamiliar; but, after a little searching, she managed to find a bottle with a common name she recognized.

She popped the cork and drank straight from the bottle as she walked into the kitchen. It was large and well stocked, with cut crystal glasses, fine china plates, expensive silver utensils, brass pots and pans, and a spice rack with nearly a hundred small bottles of volatile oils and dried herbs. There was even an oven for cooking, and a large cooler for storing perishables... In the living room there was a large comfortable looking sofa, and an entertainment center complete with a video player and a television. Back before she ran away from home to join Leskral, her father had owned a television and a video player, but she hadn’t seen one since leaving, and she realized what an incredible extravagance it was that they had given her one. The bathroom was large too, with a black marble sink and a tub that was almost large enough to swim in. 

It seemed ludicrous that colonel Baisurd would provide Mikki and her with such luxurious accommodations, and she felt decadent just standing there, with her feet sinking into the plush carpet. He had promised that they would be allowed to live in luxury, and this seemed to be the fulfillment of that promise—but she had no illusions that this meant she could trust him.

Still, there was no reason not to take advantage of what was given to her, so Loreena filled the tub with steaming hot water, and added scented oil, then slide down into the fragrant womb to relax. 

Almost an hour later, she dried herself off with the softest towel she’d ever touched and changed into a filmy negligee and a pair of thong panties which she found in one of the closets. Then she slide between the fresh smelling sheets of her big soft bed. Her whole body seemed to melt as she sank into the silky covers.

21

The constant knocking sound had slowly filter its way into Lazinta’s mind. Her body was still far too cold to respond, as yet, but she had become aware of the world around her, and from the depths of her meditative state, she was listening to the pair of human voices. 

“Bless the isles! Is she dead?” The sound of a young woman’s voice floated into Lazinta’s consciousness almost as if it were a dream, but she had learned a long time ago to distinguish between what was real and what was imagined. There had been a time when that knowledge could have been the difference between life and death, but not any more. Those of her kind who had been domesticated by the humans had different things to worry about—but certainly not the approach of wild animals who might find an unmoving body a tempting meal. 

“Of course not,” responded a second voice that Lazinta had learned to recognize over the years. It belonged to a middle-aged, human female, named Nibira, who’s partial duties included taking care of Lazinta’s needs and coming to fetch her when her skills were needed. 

“Haven’t you ever seen a sleeping Amorian?” Nibira asked. It was a question she had asked , other new girls when she brought them along with her—since very few human’s had ever dealt with an Amorian, Lazinta was fairly certain that the question was designed to make the new girl feel naive and inferior. And as usual, it worked.

“She looks dead,” the new girl said, barely raising her voice to a whisper. 

“But she’s not,” Nibira replied with confidence. “Just give her a shake, Djwan, you’ll see. She’ll wake up so fast you might be tempted to think she’s the walking dead.”

Lazinta felt a tentative hand gently touch her arm then pull quickly away with a squeak that was followed by uproarious laughter. “She is dead,” Djwan said. “Her body’s as cold as a fish, and she’s definitely not breathing.”

“She’ll warm up once you wake her,” Nibira said, still barely able to control her laughter. “Go on, try it again.” 

Lazinta had heard enough. As always, it irritated her to be interrupted, but she had learned not to ignore such intrusions even when she was in her most somnolent state. She forced herself to take a long deep breath, that was still probably too shallow to draw Djwan’s notice; and she could feel the tymbals on either side of her neck beginning to swell as she opened the shunt-valve that let blood flow into the organs.

Djwan gasped. 

Lazinta could imagine what had happened, and she didn’t really blame the girl. Here she had been about to reach out for a strange new creature that she more than half suspected was already dead, and just as she was about to touch it, gill like slits along the sleeping creature’s neck had opened up and the flesh around it had almost instantly begun to swell and turn red. It was a startling sight for a human who hadn’t seen it before, although she’d probably be even more surprised if she had actually touched the tymbals and realized the amount of heat that they were generating. Not enough to burn, of course, but more than enough to very quickly heat the blood that was entering her brain.

“Good evening, Djwan,” Lazinta said in a very slow and slurred speech. Her mind was already functioning quite clearly, but her body would still be sluggish for several minutes yet. It took time for the warming blood to circulate everywhere. 
Lazinta slowly opened her eyes and observed that Djwan was even younger than she had imagined her to be, but the rest was pretty much as she’d expected. The young human had closely cropped, red hair and green eyes that were probably a little wider just now than normal. 

The girl was attractive in a human way. 

Ten years ago, when she was still at Leskral, Lazinta would have been tempted to flirt with her. During that time of her life, she had been as heavily involved with exploring the sexuality of her human sisters as she had been with the women’s movement; and she would have found such a young and alluring creature nearly irresistible. Now she had all but outgrown such interracial interest. 

Lazinta glanced over at the older woman, who was grinning gleefully. “Nibira,” she said, with a methodically precise nod. 

“Colonel Baisurd wants you to heal a new girl down in the infirmary,” Nibira said, leaning against a chair in that way of her—which always seemed to Lazinta as if she were consciously posing. Perhaps it was her imagination. Despite the time she had spend under their control, she still had as much difficulty with the body language of humans as they seemed to have with hers—so perhaps it wasn’t really a pose, and even if it was, it might not really hide the feelings of condescending superiority that it seemed to. In any case, the attitude wasn’t reserved solely for Lazinta.  

“I’ll be ready in a few moments.” 

“He wants you to come right now,” Nibira said.

Lazinta glanced over at her without moving. Her mind and body felt unconnected—as if, when she gave herself the command to rise, her body would simply lie there paralyzed. But the feeling was as much illusory as real. If she needed to badly enough she could move—even with speed. The difficulty was convincing herself that this was a time of need. 

She could feel herself still lying there, despite having told herself repeatedly to get up. Her mind was alert. Her tymbals warmed the blood that flowed into her brain very quickly, but it took a bit longer to warm the rest of her body. asdfcbm
 She rarely found it necessary to force herself to move when she was waking from her somnolent state.  
>>>>>
“Will you wait to escort me, or must I do without the glory of your presence the whole way?”

The girl smiled, giving no sign that she understood the intended sarcasm. “He told me to bring you. I think that means I should wait and accompany you.” 

“Well then,” Lazinta said as she reluctantly fetched her medicine bag and the sacred HealStone from it’s place in the cupboard that served as her herbarium. “Lead the way.”

The girl seemed pleased by her choice of expression and walked ahead to the door, looking back over her shoulder in a haughty manner that seemed to say, You can follow me now. I give you my permission, you lowly creature. I will walk ahead of you, so that you can gaze upon my perfection. 

Lazinta was not above obliging. The girl was curvaceous, and knew just how to move her body for the best effect. It was undoubtedly this very talent that had earned the girl her coveted position as a messenger girl. 

When they reached the infirmary, colonel Baisurd was waiting for them. “Thank you, Urlanta,” he said to the human girl. “You are free to go now. I’ll page you if I have further need.” Then he turned to Lazinta. “I have a young girl I want you to tend to.”

One of his victims, no doubt, Lazinta thought. 

Following the colonel to a gurney, she looked down at a young woman with shinny, dark hair. The colonel peeled back the cover to reveal that she was completely naked and strapped down; her bonds allowing very little movement. Her breasts were riddled with several odd puncture wounds. The skin around the wounds was red with infection and would undoubtedly scar without Lazinta’s talent with the HealStone. Even with it, she would be facing an undeniable challenge. 

She frowned. 

Even after so many years of working for the colonel, she still found it distasteful to waste the HealStone on such deliberate and frequently reoccurring injuries. 

“I have a special interest in this one,” the colonel said as he turned to leave. “You can take as long as you need—but make very sure there aren’t any permanent scars.” 

Lazinta nodded and watched him leave. Then she turned her attention to the young woman, who was looking up at her with an expression of uncertainty. “What’s your name, child.”

“Mikki.”

“How old are these wounds, Mikki?”

“They took the pins out yesterday.” The girl shrugged, wincing with pain. “Maybe three days since they put them in.” 

Lazinta shook her head as she untied the leather pouch which held the blue HealStone and dumped the blue, orange-sized orb into the palm of her hand. They expect me to work miracles, she thought; but the familiar tingle of the HealStone gave her confidence. It glowed with a dull steady throb, like the EarthMother’s beating heart. She remembered how colonel Baisurd sometimes called her work the art of healing. Others had referred to it as a miracle. But it was no miracle—just a sacrilege, a profanity. Lazinta wished she could refuse to heal their victims, but she was not that strong. The consequences of such an act terrified her. She was not even strong enough to kill herself. But even more than that, Lazinta enjoyed using the HealStone. She enjoyed feeling the ‘hum of life’ as it spread up her arm. As always, she desperately wanted to close her eyes and meditate, but she could barely contain her awe at holding such a large and pure piece of the EarthMother’s soul. She found it hard to believe that it had been given into her care; especially here at Lospodas. But then Lospodas wanted it’s toys fixed. Lazinta had never known a human who could effectively use such a great stone as this one. Even at Leskral, where there were many Amorian healers, only a few could have harnessed the full powers of such a splendid stone as this one. She was certain there wasn’t anyone else at Lospodas who could make full use it. 

It was this fact that gave Lazinta what little status and comforts she had. 

In fact, few stones outside of the Undercaves were as pure or held as much power as this one. But the power of the stone was simply to heal—it didn’t care how it healed. Undirected, it would knit the bones of a broken leg together, but without a skilled healer to direct its power, the bones and muscle would fuse together in the wrong places and the leg would not heal straight; with serious cuts an improper healing could lead to permanent stiffness or even a serious impairment to the use of the limb. Of course, simple things, like scrapes, bruises and minor cuts, could be healed by almost anyone. In such cases, the body itself acted as the guiding principle. It was also true that many stones had a small flaw which tuned them to a specific type of injury, creating a healing apparatus that anyone could use with relative success on that one type of injury. 

The stone Lazinta held was entirely without such flaws. With it, the EarthMother’s energy flowed as pure as it did in the SourceStone itself. It’s healing power was universal and it required a much more skilled guiding force to control it. Lazinta took pride in the fact that she could use this stone, and she relished the luxuries that using it afforded her, considering the alternatives that she saw around her; but HealStones were never intended to be use in such a profane way, and she couldn’t help feeling guilty for being a party to it.

Lazinta closed her eyes and took a few moments, as she always did, to asked the EarthMother to forgive her. “This is going to hurt,” Lazinta said when she opened her eyes again.

“I know,” Mikki answered. “I’ve had a HealStone used on me before.” 

“Here? At Lospodas?” 

“No.”

“Leskral?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a member of the movement?”

Mikki hesitated a moment, then looked away without answering. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m ready.”

Lazinta touched the HealStone to the girl’s injured flesh and felt the thrill of energy flowing from it. She could sense it’s uncontrolled patterns in her mind, and began to bend them to her will, shaping and guiding the raw threads of power into a directed healing force. Mikki cried out in agony, straining against her bonds as her flesh bubbled beneath the HealStone’s magic. It was always a painful thing when the body accepted such energy. The more serious the wound and the more powerful the stone, the faster the healing—and the faster the healing the more painful it was. That was why the colonel usually brought Lazinta patients who were strapped down. He didn’t have the patience to let her do a slower and gentler brand of healing. He wanted his victims patched up right away so that he could get busy breaking them down again. In this case however, speed of recovery was not the primary concern. 

Lazinta removed the stone, and wiped the sweat from Mikki’s forehead as her features relaxed. She was breathing heavily. “That was intense,” Mikki said between pants. 

“There are a lot of poisons in your body,” Lazinta said. “That’s what is causing much of the pain. I can give you something to reduce the poisons before I work anymore on your actual injuries. This will reduce the level of pain you feel significantly, although you will be in mild discomfort for a much longer period of time.”

“Are you giving me the choice?”

“No. I’m making the decision for you. I just want you to understand why.” Lazinta picked up her medicine bag and took out a syringe and a small vial of lavender liquid. “The colonel was very adamant that your body must not be scarred. It is therefore in my best interest to do this slowly, using your body’s own natural healing power to aid the stone.

“The first thing I need to do to accomplish this,” Lazinta said as she began to draw the liquid into the syringe. “Is to get rid of the poisons in your body—what a Zanadian doctor would call infection. This should help bring down the swelling, which will aid in producing the required flawless healing.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll have to cut away the scar tissue and try again.” Lazinta held up the syringe. “This is a potent solution that contains finely powdered HealStone. I’m going to inject it into your arm. It will mix with your blood and be carried to every part of your body where it can fight the poisons. If you remain awake during this time you will experience a low level of discomfort for several hours. It will therefore be much easier for you if you can sleep through this. If you find it too difficult to fall asleep on your own, let me know and I can give you a sedative; but I’d prefer that you tried to get to sleep on your own first. By tomorrow morning the infection and swelling should be down considerably. ” 

“Then what?”

“Tomorrow we’ll see if the swelling has gone down, and if it has, I’ll be able to begin your real treatments.”

3

Loreena didn’t manage to get much sleep before being awakened by the sound of knocking. When she opened the door there was a small Amorian drone standing in the hall, a small sack held under his arm. Except for a collar, and an unusual genital harness—which had the apparent effect of keeping him permanently aroused and hard—he was totally naked.

“My name is Wilmond,” he said as he entered the room. “Colonel Jasten sent me to fetch you. Please remove your clothes.” 

Loreena’s eyes widened in surprise and fear. “Why do I need to remove my clothes,” she asked. It didn’t occur to her to refuse him, she knew that if it became necessary guards could be called in to help Wilmond, but she was understandably reluctant—and curious. 

“You are not to speak unless spoken to,” Wilmond said. “Can you keep silent or should I place a gag in your mouth?”

“I can be quiet,” she said.

“Good. Your clothes please.”

It was obvious by his manner and tone of voice that he expected to be obeyed. Loreena sighed and began to slip out of the negligee and thong panties she had been sleeping in.

“From this moment until such time as you are verbally released, you are under colonel Jasten’s jurisdiction. You will do whatever you are told to do quickly and without hesitation or you will be punished.” 

He placed his hand on Loreena’s arm and gently turned her around. As he began to rummage through his sack, she turned her head to watch him. 

“Eyes forward, slave.” He slapped her firmly on the ass with the palm of his hand. “What I’m doing doesn’t concern you.” 

Loreena trembled under the sting of his blow, and turned her head so that it was facing forward again, watching him only out of the corner of her eye. Wilmond didn’t seem to notice. He went back to searching the pack, and after a moment, when he had gathered everything that he was looking for, he pulled her elbows together behind her back and secured them with a pair of padded leather cuffs joined by about four inches of chain. Turning her around again so that she was facing him, Wilmond placed a leather cuff on each of her wrists; then he pulled her hands forward and connected the cuffs with another short length of chain so that her arms were securely pinned at right angles to her side. Next he produced a thick leather collar, and locked it around her neck. 

“Follow me,” Wilmond said. 

Loreena felt totally exposed as he took hold of the chain connecting her elbows and walked beside her, out into the hall. She could feel her humiliation washing over her in warm waves and knew it wasn’t likely they would arrive at their destination without someone else seeing her like this. The mere thought of it made her blush even harder. As it turned out, she was only half right. They did see several others as they walked through the halls, but Loreena was not nearly as embarrassed by it as she had thought she would be. The first person they passed was a man who totally ignored them. Next they meet a group of Amorians who were trussed up much the same as she was. Nearly every group they encountered, in fact, contained at least one woman or Amorian who was either naked or wrapped tight in leather or rope. There was nothing that unusual at all about Loreena’s situation. 

After several minutes of walking Wilmond stopped and opened a door, ushering her into a spacious room. Most of the walls were filled with book shelves; the rest were covered with dark wood paneling. The floor was parquetry covered with thick throw rugs. It looked like a private study, although it was larger than the library had been in her father’s house. 

There was a huge desk and a couple of large comfortable looking chairs. Wilmond lead her towards one of them, as if he intended to let her sit down, but instead he told her to kneel just in front of the chair. When she was on her knees, he went over to one of the shelves and came back with a small contraption which he held up to her breasts. It was made of two short, but obviously heavy, cylindrical pieces of metal about three or four inches in diameter. They were cold, and as Wilmond pressed them against her breasts, she noticed that the ends of these pillars formed two concave little bowls, so that each of her breasts rested in relative comfortable atop one of them. The pillars were joined by a complex hinge, similar to the one on binoculars, which allowed the pillars to be adjusted closer or further apart. When Wilmond had adjusted the contraption to fit Loreena, he turned a cog which locked it into place; then he set the thing on the floor in front of her and forced her to lean forward, sliding it a little as she did so that when the pillars took her weight, her breasts came to rest in the hollow bowls. He looped a thin strap of leather through a ring on the side of one pillar, slid it under her arms, around her back and connected it to the side of the other pillar. Tied to the metal contraption in this way, it served as an anchor, making it difficult to move her upper body very far. It also served to keep her face just far enough off the floor that she could rest her forehead without bending her neck at an awkward angle, thus ensuring that she could remain in this position for quite a long time without undue muscle strain.

For a final touch, cuffs were placed on her ankles; then they were tied to metal rings spaced widely in the floor. This forced her legs apart, keeping her about as open as she thought it was possible to be. 

Loreena wasn’t sure exactly when Wilmond left. She keep expecting something else to happen—something unpleasant—but it never did, and after what seemed like several minutes she realized that he was no longer in the room. No one else came for what might have been hours, and although her position wasn’t all that uncomfortable physically, waiting was difficult.

Finally the door burst open, and several sets of footsteps entered the room. “Suspend her from the ceiling,” said an authoritative voice that she was certain must be master Jasten.

“Yes master.” The second voice was deeper, with a rumbling quality that made the words hard to hear.

For a moment Loreena thought this ‘master’ was talking about her, and her heart began to beat wildly. But then she heard the sound of bare feet shuffling across the floor, the rattling of chains and a muffled moan of protest. She turned her head, trying to see, and managed to catch a glimpse of what was going on from the corner of her eye. Another girl was being escorted across the room by two men, and it was immediately obvious that this girl hadn’t slept for quite a while. Her eyes drooped and fluttered as if they were about to close even as she walked. hair was dirty and

The deeper voiced man was joining her wrist cuffs with a length of rope, then he found a stool to stand on, passed the rope through a pulley in the ceiling, and pulled until the girl was balanced on the tips of her toes. Then he tied the rope to a hook on the wall.

Colonel Jasten hardly seemed to notice the others; he was browsing among the books on the shelves. Loreena turned her head to the other side, trying to catch a glimpse of him, but he stayed mostly behind her, and about all she could tell was that he seemed well built, and had long, jet black hair that curled down over his black shirt. 

When he finally found the book he wanted, he came over to the chair behind Loreena and sat down, propping his feet up on her back as if she were an ottoman. His leather shoes were cool and hard against her hot back. 

The rattling of chains drew Loreena’s attention, and she looked towards the other girl who’d been strung up. She appeared alert, which surprised Loreena considering how sleepy she had seemed only moments ago. But then, even as Loreena watched, the girl’s eyes slowly began to close again. She struggled gamely to keep them open, but she was evidently so tired that she couldn’t do it. Her head began to droop towards her chest. The ropes at her wrists began to take most of her weigh. Then the deep voiced man suddenly jabbed her in the side with a needle. 

She gasped and jerked, rattling the chains again, and her eyes opened wide as she shook her head.

A small trickle of blood flowed from the needle wound, but the man wiped it away with a damp cloth that Loreena suspected contained a supraesthetic. The girl tried to dance away from his touch, but as soon as the cloth touched her the bleeding seemed to stop.

“Unworthy creature,” the deep voiced man said, taking the girl’s chin in his hand so that she was forced to look at him. “Who is your master?” When she refused to answer he stuck her in the ass with the needle. “Who is your master?” he asked again.

“You are,” she mumbled.

“And who is my master?” 

When she didn’t answer he moved the needle up to one of her breasts and pierced one of her nipples.

The girl gasped. “Colonel Jasten!” she cried.

The deep voiced man smiled. “Good girl.” He wiped her punctured nipple with a wet cloth that instantly seemed to dull the pain. “And what are you?”

Suddenly Loreena was grabbed by the hair and her head was pulled back sharply. She was looking up into the cold, angry eyes of the dark haired man she was certain was colonel Jasten; and despite her fear, she was startled by his cold beauty. His dark piercing eyes seem like knives slicing through her. 

“Have I given you permission to look around, Slave?”

Loreena managed to give her head a slight shake.

Colonel Jasten pressed his hand between her legs, slipping his fingers between her folds; and despite colonel Baisurd’s warning, Loreena couldn’t help the way her legs jerked in a spasm that gave away her desire to press her legs together. 

“You’re not very well behaved, are you, Slave?” Colonel Jasten pulled sharply on her short hairs. 

She gasped.

He gave another tug, even harder this time. “I said, you’re not very well behaved, are you, Slave?”

“No,” Loreena said through clenched teeth. “I guess not.”

“I don’t think I heard you right, Slave.” 

“No, I’m not.”

He gave her pubic hairs another yank. “No, master, I am not well behaved, is the proper response, Slave!” 

“No, Master, I am not well behaved,” Loreena said, feeling her cheeks growing hot with anger and humiliation. 

Colonel Jasten rubbed his finger across her pubic mound, gently twirling her hairs around his finger. “For looking around without permission, you will be given ten strokes with the belt.” 

As he stood up and began to unbuckle his belt, Loreena heard the crack of leather slapping against flesh. She flinched, expecting to feel the sting herself, but when it didn’t come her attention drifted back to the other girl in the room. “I am a worthless slave,” she cried out. “I am nothing but my desire to serve my master.”

“Please,” Loreena said, forcing herself to turn her head back away. “You don’t have to do this, really. I promise, I won’t let it happen again.”

“But you just did,” Colonel Jasten said. “Which has earned you another ten strokes. Plus ten more for speaking without being spoken to and fifteen for not addressing me properly: as master, even after you had been instructed in the proper form of address. And finally an additional ten for talking back in an argumentative manner.” Slowly he began to pull the belt free from his pants. Loreena heard another crack of leather, but this time she managed not to look. 

He knelt down beside her, letting his hand rest on her back as he whispered in her ear. “Colonel Baisurd asked me to introduce you to the full range of my technique. So tell me, Slave, would you like to observe Kanina’s conditioning?”

“Yes, Master Jasten,” she lied. “I would.”

He smiled. “That’s much better.” 

He let his fingers slide over her back as he moved around behind her, tracing feather light across the chain that held her arms at her side, then down over her asshole, one finger sliding between the folds of her pubic mound, then on down the length of her legs—all the way to the soles of her feet. Slowly he untied the bindings that secured her ankle cuffs to the floor. Then he placed his hands firmly against her hips and slid her around into a new position that twisted her waist at an odd angle. Then he moved the metal pillars that supported her at the chest. When he was done she had a much easier view of Kanina. Simply by turning her head to the side she would be looking right at the girl. Loreena was aware of the deep man’s voice, but it was so low that it was difficult to understand what he was saying; and she resisted the urge to turn her head, thinking perhaps that colonel Jasten might consider it another breach of slave etiquette. He was busy retying her ankles to another set of floor rings, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

When the colonel was done with the ties, he reached into his pocket and brought out a small egg shaped piece of plastic. It was constructed of two halves that moved independently of each other and as he turned them, the egg began to vibrate with a soft, steady hum. Then he reached down between Loreena’s legs and slipped it inside her. She gasped as it entered her, its vibrations causing a warm feeling to spread through her body.

“Don’t let that fall out,” colonel Jasten said. He placed his hand against the side of her face and turned her head so that she was facing Kanina. “You’ll regret it, if you do.”

“Yes, Master Jasten.”

The deep voiced man was whispering something in Kanina’s ear too. 

“No Master,” the girl sobbed in response. “I’m a lowly slave.” 

The man swung the strap hard, and as it left a bright red mark across Kanina’s stomach, Loreena felt the first stroke from colonel Jasten’s belt, like a searing flash of pain across her own ass. Her squeal of protest mingled with Kanina’s, a leg spasm forced her muscles to clamp tight around the small vibrating egg inside her. The vibrations echoed through her body, mixing with the pain, sending a delicious shiver over her body.

“Say it louder—with more conviction,” the deep voiced man was saying.

“I’m a worthless, slave” the girl screamed. “I am nothing, but my ability to serve my masters.” 

Loreena watched as he moved closer to Kanina and pressed his hand gently against her pubic mound, causing the girl to gasp. “Isn’t this better,” he asked.

She nodded, obviously too exhausted to speak.

Colonel Jasten brought his belt down on Loreena, just as the deep voiced man struck Kanina again, although not as hard as he had before. “When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer me.”

“Forgive me, Master,” Kanina said. 

“That’s better.” His hand moved back between her legs. “Do you think Colonel Jasten should allow you to sleep now?”

“Oh yes. Please, Master. Let me sleep!” 

Again they were struck at the same time—and Loreena was rocked with spasms of pain and pleasure. 

“Do you think you can tell your master what to do?” the deep voiced man was saying.

“No, Master! I am unworthy! Forgive me, Master. I’m just so tired I forgot myself.”

“Should I pity you then?”

“Only if it pleases you, Master.”

The deep voiced man moved closer to Kanina and pressed his hand between her legs until she was moaning and rocking her hips. “It pleases me to keep you awake,” he said. 

Colonel Jasten chose that moment to slip his own finger into Loreena.


4

Buel walked into the small stone room where Sondra had been bound spread-eagle to a raised slab of rock. Leather straps secured her at the waist, neck, elbows, knees, wrists and ankles, leaving her little room to move. He examined the side of her head, touching the small patch of shaved skin and the scar from the operation where they had implanted the tasp into the pleasure center of her brain. He traced over the bruise on her face where a guard had hit her when she wouldn’t obey his command. The swelling in her cheek was nearly gone, but not the slight discoloration. He pressed his finger against her cheek bone, making her wince; and when she opened her eyes to look at him, he grinned. 

She really was quite beautiful. He took in her haughty face, her mouth spread wide by the black ball gag, her shapely body and breasts which were full enough to satisfy his tastes. It was obvious that she took pride in her body. It was a beautiful body, firm and strong, with just a hint of muscularity. It was the kind of body most would have to work hard for: exercising and eating properly—and that was the kind he liked to destroy best. Yes, he would enjoy working on her for the colonel.

“Did you have a pleasant nap, lover?”

She closed her eyes, and looked away.

He smiled and his voice took on a tone of mock good cheer. “I do hope your feeling well, we have a rather busy day scheduled for you.” 

He nodded to the guards, and they released the straps that bound her to the slab of rock. As soon as she was on her feet she began to struggle, wildly kicking at a guard. 

Deftly the guard avoided her foot, and planted his knee full force into her stomach. As she doubled over, he caught her head between his knees. Another guard caught her arms and pulled them snuggly together behind her back, securing them with a leather strap at the elbows. They ignored the choking and retching sounds she made against the gag as she tried to catch her breath.

Buel loved to see his victims struggle—and he suspected this one would keep struggling for quite awhile; but he smiled and said with a tone of deepest sincerity. “I do wish you wouldn’t struggle so. It only makes it harder on you. Bring her along, boys. We’ve got work to do.” 

He turned, walking out of the room, and the guards shoved her along behind him as he navigated through the halls. They didn’t go far before they entered a small chamber. At its center was a heavy wooden frame that looked a little like a doorway except that it had no door or walls. It was almost square in dimension with steel supports running from the transom to the ceiling. Hanging from hooks at the corners of the top beam were two chains attached with leather cuffs. 

“Chain her,” Buel said. “Feet wide!”

The guards unbound her elbows and pulled her arms above her head, strapping the cuffs around her wrists and hanging the chain on a hook; but as soon as they let go of her arm, she slipped her hands neatly through the cuffs and attacked the nearest guard, trying to get to his eyes with her fingernails. Before she could reach him another guard had rammed his knee into her stomach a second time. A third took hold of her arm and wrenched it savagely behind her back while she gasped for air.

Buel sighed. “I’ve warned you about that,” he said slapping his hand against her firm, exposed ass, and caressing her cheeks. “Now, let me see her hand!”

She didn’t respond until the guard holding her arm gave it a cruel twist, making her gasp in pain. Reluctantly she held out her free hand and Buel took it—examining her wrist. She had very small bones, and could collapse her hand until it was no larger than her wrist. 

“This is indeed an interesting development,” Buel murmured, turning to a guard. “I don’t believe I’ve ever encountered a physiology quite like this.” He thought for a moment. “Get some tape,” he said. “We’ll make her hands into fists for now.” 

The guard went to a cabinet along one of the walls and after a short search came back with a huge roll of duct tape. He began ripping the tape into strips, while another guard curled Sondra’s fingers and wrapped them. When they were done her hands were large fists of tape which they put into the leather cuffs.

“Now the feet,” Buel said.

One guard pulled her left leg up and cuffed it above the floor at a forty-five degree angle. Another pulled her other leg off the floor and cuffed it to the opposite beam: forcing all her weight onto her arms. Buel came forward and regarded Sondra closely, rubbing his fingers over her bare breast, tweaking a nipple, then tracing down over her soft, shapely stomach. 

He eased a lever on the control pad in his pocket, and she shivered under his touch. The small electrical controller device was sending a weak but definite signal to the tasp in the pleasure center of Sondra’s brain; and she was unable not to respond to a sudden inexplicably delicate thrill that ran through her body. Her breath became shaky, and her muscles grew taunt with desire and expectation.

“Maraal,” Buel said, leaving the tasp on low as he motioned to one of the guards.

Maraal came forward with a small, black, medical bag and kneeled on the wooden floor, taking from his bag a small dish and a packet of white powder. He sprinkled a little of the powder into the bowl. The packet he replaced in his bag. Then he took out a bottle of alcohol and a small stirring spatula; and squirting a little of the alcohol into the bowl, he mixed it together with the spatula until it began to foam. 

He left the bowl to completely activate, and wiping the spatula on a towel, he put it back in his bag. Next he took out a pair of tweezers, and neatly plucked one of Sondra’s pubic hairs. She tensed against her bonds as a small dot of blood welled up on her skin. 

Maraal was good—quickly pulling one hair after another with a flicking motion of his wrist that usually took the hairs by the root and rarely pinched her skin. 

Next he started on the hairs under her arms.

The powder in the bowl had become a creamy foam by the time he had finished plucking her, and he used a small shaving brush from his bag to apply a thin layer of the foam to her skin: covering her from her neck to her ankles, including the areas he had just plucked, under her arms and between her legs. The foam stung fiercely there. 

Next, Maraal produced two small objects that looked something like contact lenses, only they were a little larger; opaque and undoubtedly a little thicker—with small nubs about a quarter of an inch long on the outer curved surface. Maraal held these up to Sondra. “I’m going to put these in your eyes,” he said. “Now, unless you cooperate, you might damage your sight—so I suggest that you try to stay as still as possible while I’m putting them in. Do you understand?”

Buel increased the tasp slightly, and Sondra drew in a deep, shaky breath. 

“Good,” Maraal said, moving towards Sondra with the small objects. 

Buel turned the tasp up again, as Maraal carefully pinched her upper eyelash between his fingers, pulling her eyelid away from her eyeball, so that it formed a little pocket. Then, with the tweezers, he gently but firmly pushed one side of the thin blinder device into the pocket and slowly forced it upwards as far as it would go without causing damage; then he pulled her lower eyelid down, and pressed the blinder flat against her eyeball.

Sondra blinked several times as her eyes began to water.

“Try not to move your eye around so much,” Maraal said. “Or the eye-blinder may scratch and irritate your eyeball.”

After he had repeated the same process on the other eye, Maraal took a straight blade and scraped a small patch of the white foam from her leg. It had eaten off the hair, leaving her skin slightly red and tender; and entirely hairless. 

Satisfied, Maraal quickly scraped off the rest of the foam, washing her off with an alcohol soaked rag when he was done. 

 She tensed as he wiped the liquid onto her raw skin.

Watching, Buel was satisfied with Maraal’s work. Smiling, he slowly levered the tasp again. It was part of his intended technique to raise and lower the intensity level to coincide with the natural moments of anxiety; building up to a maximum stimulus when she actually felt pain. In this way, Sondra would learn to associate pain with her pleasure response. The pain would still be pain—but she would learn to crave it. 

Of course, some women were easier to condition than others; and so far Sondra had shown no signs of masochism—but Buel was confident in his ability. He had changed the nature of many women. He loved doing it. Soon, Sondra would willingly inflict herself with the most gruesome abuses whenever she was given half a chance... but by then, half of her torment would be that she would not be given the chance very often. 

It was an ironic twist that Buel found quite amusing.

With the tasp he could reach out and touch Sondra’s deepest pleasure centers. Most people so touched even once, would go to great lengths to repeat the experience. What Buel planned to do was form a link in Sondra’s mind between the stimulation of her pleasure centers and being inflicted with bodily pain. Once that link was formed, even without the reinforcing stimulation of her pleasure centers, Sondra would seek out pain as a natural means of triggering those centers.

He put one hand on the tasp, as he moved in closer; then found her protruding nipple with the fingers of his other hand and thumbed the tasp as he gave it a viscous twist. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it.” 

He licked her nipple, sucking it into his mouth; thumbing the tasp again as he nipped her flesh sharply with his teeth.

She cried out in a mix of protest and delight, and when he wedged his fingers savagely between her legs it came away dripping wet. 

“So,” he said with a pleased smile. “You do like it. Don’t you?” 

He turned to one of the others, who handed him a nipple clamp; and as he put it on her, he thumbed the tasp again. 

Her body spasm rattled the chains for a moment.

“Maraal,” Buel said. “I don’t think she’s tight enough.”

Taking the cue, Maraal took a length of rope and folding it in half, wrapped it around her waist, threading the loose ends through the loop formed at the other. With a few gentle tugs he tied it tight. Then, kneeling in front of her, he spread her cunt and wedged the twin ropes firmly between her labia. He passed the rope to Buel on the other side, who lashed them—under considerable tension—to a metal ring on the far wall.

Standing up, Buel ran his hand over her legs as he admired his work. He slapped the inside of her thigh, leaving a bright red hand print, as he thumbed the tasp higher.

She jerked and moaned; and suddenly the ropes flexed. They slipped tighter around her already pinched waist.

“Snug it up a little, will you Maraal” Buel said with mock severity. “I want that damn rope so tight she can’t move! And then go get me that sack of clamps and whips that I prepared earlier.”

“My pleasure,” Maraal sneered. “And how about some of that prickly wire? I’d like to play with those breasts awhile.”

“yes,” Buel said. “That’s a fine idea.”


5

Loreena’s whipping session went on for what seemed like hours: the deep voiced man asking Kanina questions which were either punished or rewarded. And each time, Loreena received the exact same punishment or reward. It didn’t take long for Loreena to start silently answering for the girl, and hoping that she would come up with the correct response. Being as tired as she was, it was easy for the man who was questioning her to trick Kanina into giving an inappropriate response. But more than that, he soon began to quiz Kanina on more difficult questions of etiquette, mixing in Lospodas procedure and other types of questions that neither Kanina nor Loreena had any way of knowing, since they were both new to Lospodas. After awhile, the questions began to repeat themselves, and the rewards would start to come more frequently than the punishment. Then he would move on again to another set of questions, with a different set of responses that had to be learned. Occasionally he would return to the earlier questions to make sure that they hadn’t been forgotten. 

Both Loreena’s mind and flesh felt as if they were on fire. She had long since lost track of how many strokes she had received and she suspected that the colonel had too. He certainly didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get them over with. In fact, he seemed to delight in making Loreena anticipate the sting of the next stroke. Sometimes, when Kanina was getting the answers right, he would get sidetracked for awhile, amusing himself by playing with Loreena’s tender parts, almost as if she were a dog he was absent mindedly petting. Between his probing hands and the vibrating egg, she had been brought to the edge of orgasm several times, but somehow colonel Jasten always seemed to know when to stop to leave her just short of release. 

Her whole body was trembling with ecstasy and expectation, when colonel Jasten at last sat down in his chair, and propped his boots up on Loreena’s tender back to watch the rest of Kanina’s training. Loreena couldn’t imagine what it was like for her: she had come into this session already near exhaustion while Loreena had been fresh, and she had found it difficult enough. 

At last the session came to an end. Colonel Jasten put his feet down as Kanina was being lead from the room; and Loreena groaned in relief as the pressure was removed from her back.

Suddenly there was a crack that jarred her whole body and sent another spasm of vibrating pain and pleasure through her body. 

“You express displeasure when you moan like that,” colonel Jasten said, as he knelt beside her and began to untie her legs from the floor rings. “Such an expression is not acceptable from a slave. Your purpose is to serve your master’s desires in all things. If he desired to see you in pain and discomfort, then your greatest pleasure is to willingly bear that pain and discomfort so that he can derive pleasure from it. This evening you will receive an additional fifteen lashes, so that next time you will remember.” 

“But I...” She stopped herself when she realized what she was about to do and clamped her mouth closed; desperately trying to think of something she could say to lessen the punishment she knew would be coming because of her outburst. All she could think to say was, “Yes, master. Thank you.”

“You seem to have some difficulty restraining yourself on your own. Therefore, to help you remember, I’m going to have you gagged for the remainder of the day, when I’m done with you. In addition, you will receive another fifteen strokes in the morning. They will serve as a reminder as you start your day, and perhaps you will not make so many mistakes tomorrow.”

He unbuckled the leather strap that held her to the metal pillars which weighed her down, and helped her rise to her feet. Then he pressed his hand against her pubes. She tried not to move away from his probing fingers, but she was too tender and couldn’t help flinching in silent protest. “You will learn to keep your legs open to me and any other man who I permit to touch you,” he said, moving closer so that she could not escape his caresses, as he used his other hand to roughly knead her thighs and squeeze her ass. This time she managed to keep her body from reacting. “That’s better,” he said. “You will always make yourself as open and inviting as possible; or you will be punished. Since I am in a lenient mood, and you are trying, I will limit your punishment to something that you may not find totally unpleasant. But I am not always such a patient man; and your punishments will quickly become more severe. ” 

Licking his index finger he slipped it into her asshole. “Good,” he said. “I like a tight ass. Now, walk over to the desk along the wall and lean over it.” 

Even freed from her metal anchor, there was little Loreena could do to seriously thwart Colonel Jasten. If she refused to do as he asked he would simply call for assistance, and she would undoubtedly be punished severely. She had placed herself in his hands in exchange for being allowed to stay at Lospodas, and now she was stuck with that decision for as long as it lasted. 

Hopefully that wouldn’t be too long, she thought, as she walked over to the wooden desk. The edge of it came right to her hips, almost as if it had been measured for her. She began to lean over, but colonel Jasten’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. 

“Just a moment, slave. Let me put your punishment board in place.”

He opened a door in the side of the desk, and took out a small wooden bed of nails, which he placed on the table in front of her. It was just large enough to cover the surface of the desk where her stomach and breasts would rest. All the nails were rather short, more like tacks, but they were sharp and spaced at about half-inch intervals.

Trembling, Loreena began to bend over, easing herself down onto the board. Apparently she was not fast enough for colonel Jasten tastes, however, he grabbed a handful of her hair and shoved her forward. The vibrating egg almost popped out as her belly and breasts plopped down on the bed of nail: each point a distinct prick on her skin. She was surprised that it didn’t actually hurt quite as bad as she’d suspected it would. It was more like an itch, slowly building up in a couple dozen different places. She had a perverse urge to slide her torso across the nails, because it was impossible to use her hands to scratch her self as she would have wished. But the nails held her in place and made it impossible for her to move. 

“Not bad for a novice,” colonel Jasten said as he began to unbuckled his pants. “But you didn’t move fast enough. When I tell you to do something, you don’t think about it—you simply do it. You will receive another ten lashes in the morning for moving too slowly.”

Loreena stifled her instinctive response. “Yes, Master,” she said. Then she gasped as one of his fingers, covered with something cold and slimy, pressed against her sphincter and slide gently inside, probing. 

“Nice and tight,” he said approvingly. “Are you a virgin in this hole?”

“Yes, Master Jasten.”

“Well,” he said, slowly working another finger inside her. “The ointment I’m using will help facilitate my entry. But don’t expect this concession in the future. Tomorrow you will receive a butt plug which you will wear most of the time. Among those times when it will be removed are when you need to wash or relieve yourself. Periodically, during each day, the plug will also be removed so that you can practice a series of exercises designed to strengthen your sphincter muscles. When you are done with these exercises, the old plug will be replaced with a slightly larger one. The idea is to teach your body to accommodate even the largest man, without causing any damage; but the exercises are necessary to keep you from becoming sloppy loose on those men, such as myself, who are a little smaller. In time you will be able to accommodate a man of any size with equal skill and ease.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Colonel Jasten smiled and removed his fingers. “Now, you will not make any sounds while I take my pleasure,” he said. “Nor will you struggle or squirm in any way. Each time you do will add two strokes to each of your whippings, two for this evening and two for tomorrow morning. Do you understand, Slave.”

“Yes, Master Jasten.”

“Good,” he said, positioning the tip of his dick against her ass with his hand; and thrusting gently but firmly forward with his hips. “It’s time to get started then.”

She could feel his member spreading her cheeks and sliding inside, were his fingers had been but moments before. Her sphincter tightened involuntarily, trying to keep him out; but it was no match against his greased spear. The tip broke through with a minimum of resistance, and once inside, it slid more easily as he thrust hard and deep. His stomach pressed against her ass as he used her hips for leverage to shove himself in deeper. The force of it pressed her harder against the bed of nails; and it felt like a dozen little mouths biting into her flesh. She gasped and tried to ease her body upward off of the nails.

“That’s four,” colonel Jasten said as he slide out of her. “Two for moaning and two for squirming.”

Then he rammed into her again. 


6

“Good morning,” Lazinta said, smiling down at Mikki’s naked body, despite the straps that held her to the table. “Your skin color has improved at least. Any headaches or fever?”

Mikki smiled back at her. “None,” she said. 

Lazinta liked this girl. There was no malice or contempt in her voice and her eyes were gracious and accepting, with an occasional hint of humor despite her circumstances. 

She pressed her finger against Mikki’s breast, watching to see how the skin underneath turned white and, when she removed her finger, how the color came back. Then she closed her eyes and let her mind sink into that meditative state where she could sense her patient’s body on a deeper and more subtle level. After several moments she open her eyes again. “Well,” she said. “It appears we’ve finally beaten that stubborn infection of yours. I don’t think the colonel realizes how close you were to being dangerously ill. If he hadn’t brought you to me when he did, your symptoms would have become quite apparent in a very short time.”

“But you did catch it in time,” Mikki said. “So, how much longer is this going to take? Nothing personal, but I’m getting tired of being strapped down to this table while you poke and prod at me day after day.”

“No offense taken,” 
Lazinta said with a smile as she deliberately poked her fingers into Mikki’s ribs. “I wouldn’t want to be strapped down while someone poked me, either.”

“Stop that,” Mikki laughed. “Now, how much longer?”

Lazinta shrugged. “It would have been much easier if colonel Baisurd had brought you to me sooner. Or if he wasn’t so concerned with not leaving scars. That forces me to work very slowly.”

“A few days?”

“Probably more like a few weeks.” Lazinta slide the HealStone from it’s sheath. 

“Any chance you can make them a little larger while you’re at it?” 

“I wouldn’t even if I could,” Lazinta said, pressing the stone against Mikki’s stomach—well below where the wounds on her breasts where—and working it around in small circles. Against healthy flesh, it produced little more than a pleasant tingle and softer skin. “You have magnificent breasts, just as they are.”

“You like them small, huh?” 

“As a matter of fact I do,” Lazinta said, and she reached up and lightly pinched one of Mikki’s nipples as if to prove her point. 

“You must really hate the ones you’ve got then.”

Lazinta laughed. “Why do you say that? Don’t you like them?”

“I think they’re great, but they’re not exactly small.”

“They suit my purposes quite fine,” 
Lazinta said, working the HealStone a little higher, passing it over the healthy skin of Mikki’s breasts without actually touching any of the wounds themselves.

“Oh, I see,” Mikki said. “You like my tiny little breasts, just as long as they aren’t your.”

“The fact that I’m satisfied with my own breasts has no bearing on whether or not I find yours attractive.” 

“Do you,” Mikki asked. “Find me attractive?”

“You are the most appealing human I’ve meet in many years.”

Mikki smiled. “Yeah well, you can poke me any time.” 


7

Loreena’s stay with colonel Jasten was turning out to be much longer than she had anticipated. Despite the fact that she was allowed to visit Mikki almost every afternoon, for an hour or two, she still found it hard to believe that it could be taking this long for Mikki’s wounds to heal. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe the proof before her eyes, but she couldn’t help wondering if the healer was purposefully delaying the process so that she would have to spend more time with colonel Jasten.

Despite the severity of her first day’s lessons, still a painful reminder when she moved, she’d been unable to guard her thoughts and actions and had made several more mistakes. In the morning, Wilmond had removed the butt-plug that colonel Jasten had placed in her for the night, then he’d taken her to the latrine. Loreena, however, was unable to pee with him watching her, despite his warnings that she would not be able to do so later. After several minutes of trying, Wilmond had taken her elsewhere to prepare her for her training.

In the rush caused by the extra time he had given her, he had not replaced the butt-plug and Loreena had not felt inclined to remind him how colonel Jasten had wanted her to wear it at all times. 

Her nose was pierced through its soft fleshy center, bringing tears to her eyes. Then her ears and each of her nipples were pierced, and set with metal studs so they wouldn’t close up as they healed. Then she was taken to a costume designer, and every part of her body was carefully measured and cast in plaster. These, she was informed, would be used to make custom leather items that had been form-fitted to the particular shape of her body. It was nearly noon when they were finished there and Wilmond finally took her back to see colonel Jasten. He was busy going over some figures in a ledger, and as he worked Loreena was expected to kneel beside him on the floor, without moving. 

By now her bladder was becoming rather full, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to ignore any longer. At first it was just a matter of finding it difficult not to squirm, but after a short while she felt that she had to ask colonel Jasten if she could speak. 

“You may,” he said. “But you will receive five lashes against your inner thighs for speaking without being given permission.”

“But Master, I have to pee,” she said.

He looked at her with a frown. “Didn’t Wilmond take you to the latrine when you awoke, Slave?” 

“Yes, Master. But I was unable to go then.”

“You will learn to relieve yourself when your master tells you to.”

Loreena’s eyes grew wide in disbelief. “But I...” She clamped her teeth down on her sentence as she realized that he would say she was talking back. It wasn’t fair. No matter what she did she was punished.

“Since you realize what you have just done, I will be lenient and simply gag you until lunch time, as a reminder not to talk back. And I will only assign you fifteen strokes. The five for speaking without permission, and ten for talking back.”

“But when did I…”

“Make that twenty-five,” he said with a devious smile. “You used the word ‘but’ when you told me that you had to pee. Which implies a criticism of me for assigning the five lashes.”

“Yes Master. Thank you for instructing this unworthy slave. ”

He chose a large dildo gag that tickled the back of her throat as he placed it in her mouth. Then he reached down and slipped his fingers between her legs, pressing against her in a rhythmic motion that made her need to void her bladder even worse. “Do you think I haven’t seen you squirming?” He asked. “I have been aware of your need for the last twenty minutes, and if I’d wanted to let you pee, I would have called Wilmond to take you to the latrine. But the fact is, you should have gone when Wilmond took you there this morning.” 

Suddenly, he struck her hard on the ass with the palm of his hand; and her muscles clenched, forcing her need to pee to recede a little.

“There, that helped some, didn’t it, Slave?” 

Loreena nodded, surprised at how effective his hand had been.

“Good, because you will have to hold it for another full hour; and if you pee before then I will not be pleased.”

Loreena spent the next forty-seven minutes, squirming in ever increasing discomfort. She danced with her legs pressed together and pushed the palm of her hands against her pubes, trying to hold it back, but it was more than she could manage; and at last, she voided her bladder on the hard wood floor.

Colonel Jasten called Wilmond to clean it up, while Loreena looked on with fear and embarrassment. 

“Wilmond,” colonel Jasten said, when the drone was finished cleaning the mess. “This slave has obviously not been potty trained. Fix her up with one of those special absorbent plugs so that this sort of thing doesn’t happen again, then fit her with a chastity belt so that it can’t be removed without permission. Oh, and I’ve noticed that she isn’t wearing the butt-plug that I ordered for her. You will receive thirty lashes for that oversight; and you, slave, will receive twenty for not reminding him. Now, see that she is fitted with one of the smaller sized butt-plugs. I want her to wear it for four hours, then take her to the aerobics room and have Evaline teach her some pelvic exercises for about half an hour. Then replace her butt-plug with the next larger size. You will repeat this process every day, until I tell you otherwise.” 

Despite the punishment she had helped Wilmond earn, he allowed her to take a few extra minutes in the latrine, and this time, she was able to defecate despite his prying eyes. Then he took her to a small room with a surprisingly clinical setting. There was a table with the kind of stirrups that were often used for a gynecological examination, as well as various other pieces of equipment, few for which Loreena couldn’t fathom a possible use. There were shelves, drawers and cabinets filled with all kinds of supplies. Wilmond opened one of the draws, revealing an assortment of plastic plugs, in every conceivable size and shape—and some that she didn’t believe could possibly fit into anyone’s orifice, no matter how much it had been stretched. The very thought of that huge thing inside her made her stomach queasy. Fortunately, the one Wilmond selected for her, while not the smallest, was definitely on the small side. He ordered Loreena to bend over then, and greased the plug, inserting it carefully into her rectum. Next he found a tampon—about the same dimensions as the butt plug. She found it distinctly unpleasant when he inserted this into her vagina, but there was nothing she could do about it that wouldn’t get her in even more trouble. 

Finally he fitted her with a chastity belt that consisted of a leather belt and a strap that covered both plugs and held them firmly in place.

For the rest of that day and most of the next, with her lessons still a painful reminder, she’d been able to guard her every thought and step and hadn’t made many mistakes. But as one day turned into two and then three, it once again became more and more difficult to keep from being punished. She forgot about speaking out of turn and was repeatedly forced to wear a gag for the rest of the day, until her jaws seemed to ache constantly. Other times she would fail to keep her eyes lowered in colonel Jasten’s presence, and received five lashes. Or maybe she would allow a hint of sarcasm into her voice when he asked her a question and clamps would be placed on her nipples for half an hour—with any new infractions adding weight to the clamps or time to her sentence. At such times colonel Jasten would watch her like a hawk, not letting her get away with even the slightest mistake—and it was amazing how easily he seemed to be able to catch her making one. 

Her nipples were still sore from the first session with the clamps, when he condemned her to another. 

Her body, in fact, never seemed to be completely free from the aches and pains of her various punishments—even though, by now, she had formed habits that helped her prevent such unpleasantness.

After that first day, Loreena had been force to wear the chastity belt and the uncomfortable plugs both day and night, for several days. She was given fifteen minutes in the morning after waking and in the evening before going to bed when it was removed so that she could wash and relieve herself properly. At midday also she was ordered to defecate, and if, after twenty minutes she was unable to do so, she was given an enema to wash out her system. The first couple of days she had found it difficult to go when she was supposed to, and resist the need when she wasn’t; but now she was getting used to it. Her body had quickly formed a habit of being regular, and now she almost never felt the urge to pee or defecate until Wilmond or Jasten removed her chastity belt and gave her the order.

The plug in her ass had become quite large. She was always astonished when she saw how large it really was, but somehow the next one managed to slide in without seeming much tighter than the one before it. Some of her exercises consisted of various movements designed to target certain muscles. Others, like clenching and loosening her sphincter at will, bit without clenching the cheeks of her ass—forced her to become aware of which muscles she was using. 
At first, Evaline would always assist her in the exercises, placing her fingers over the targeted muscles so that she could tell when Loreena was contracting the right ones. Sometimes, other fingers would check to made sure that non-targeted muscles were not being contracted too. And when she did a good job, those fingers would find her secret places of pleasure and give her a pleasant reward. 

There were other ways in which she was sometimes given a reward. As colonel Baisurd had promised, she was allowed to visit Mikki frequently. The chastity belt had made her feel uncomfortable around Mikki at first, but now, at times, she could almost forgot that it was there. She was also given a little more personal freedom—not much—but in addition to visiting Mikki, she noticed that her limbs were not always tied anymore; and as long as she performed well, she was given several hours during each day when she could do whatever she wanted. Before, during such times, she might have been ordered to stand quietly in a corner, or to kneel at Jasten’s side, but now she was simply told that her presence would not be required for a few hours. 

There wasn’t a great deal to do, during these times. She would wander about the halls, and look in on the training sessions of other women; or sometimes she would retreat to her room with one of the books from the shelves in Jasten’s study. But whatever she did, it felt good to know that she was free to do it. 

“There you are,” Wilmond said, when he found her wandering the halls during one such free time.

“Yes, master Wilmond,” Loreena said as she turned around. she quickly lowered her eyes, waiting to see what he would ask her to do. 

“It’s time to take this off,” he said, tapping the lock on her chastity belt with the key he held in his hand.

Loreena shifted her weight to give him easier access to the lock, and smiled slightly when he leaned over to undo it. She wasn’t sure if this meant that she was about to be released back to colonel Baisurd’s control, or if she had simply worn the device long enough to satisfy colonel Jasten, but either way it would be a definite improvement.


8

“Today’s the day,” Lazinta said, taking the HealStone away from Mikki’s breast. 

“The day for what?”

“The day I must declare you officially healed.”

“No scars left?”

Lazinta let her fingers glide across Mikki’s smooth breast, but it wasn’t to double check her diagnosis. “I hope you’ll never have to come visit me again,” she said. But she knew that wasn’t very likely. It had been her experience that colonel Baisurd almost always brought his toys back to be fixed up again—until eventually they were so badly broken that they could no longer be fixed. 

It saddened her much more than usual to think that this might be Mikki’s fate. 

The girl shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you again,” she said.

“You can do that,” Lazinta agreed. “Just don’t do it by getting into trouble. Now, you’re probably restless from staying in bed so much of the time, but remember that you’re body still isn’t one hundred percent. Allow yourself to get plenty of rest and eat right, if you can. I’ll do what I can when I give colonel Baisurd my recommendation—but I can’t promise anything.” 

“Don’t worry,” Mikki said. “The colonel’s gotten what he wants out of me.” 

Lazinta shook her head. “I hope you’re right,” she said. Then she leaned forward and kissed Mikki on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, my friend.” And with that said, she stood and walked to the door. She would go to the colonel and giver her recommendations for Mikki’s further treatments. Now that the girl’s wounds were completely healed, that was all she could do. 

It wasn’t long after Lazinta meet with colonel Baisurd that he sent for Wilmond; and within a matter of minutes, the Amorian Drone was on his way to find Loreena and take her to an audience with the colonel. 


9

When they reached colonel Baisurd’s door Wilmond stopped Loreena and removed her gag; then he proceeded to remove the leather and chains that bound her. When he was done everything that wasn’t a part of her body had been removed—except for the high heels—and they only served to make Loreena feel even more naked. She felt more naked than she had at any other time since coming to Lospodas. 

 “Go on in,” Wilmond said. “Colonel Baisurd is waiting for you.”

She turned the door knob, pushed the door open and took a step inside the room. The colonel was working on some papers at his desk, but he looked up as soon as she entered and studied her intently, as if he was looking for some sign that she had been changed. 

“Loreena, how nice to see you, ” he said. “Won’t you come in?”

She almost answered, ‘yes, Master’; but he had not called her slave, as colonel Jasten always had when he expected her to speak. Moreover, Loreena’s training had not been as intense as Kanina’s, for instance; and it was far shorter than was normally required to turn out a fully conditioned slave-girl. Still, she had spent enough time living the life that she had to guard her responses almost as much now as she had during those first few days with colonel Jasten. 

The colonel smiled as if he knew what was going on inside her head. “Why don’t you close the door,” he said.

Loreena frowned, but obeyed without even looking to see if Wilmond had left yet; in fact, her eyes never left the colonel’s. His eyes seemed to be taking in her every move—her every breath. It made her that much more uncomfortable, that much more aware of her nakedness. It angered her to realize that there probably was an observable difference in the way she was acting... she couldn’t help it.
“There’s a dress on the table in the corner,” colonel Baisurd said. “Would you like to change?”

“Thank you,” Loreena said, finally taking her eyes off the colonel as she walked over to the dress. It was the same open-breasted design as the dress she had been given on her arrival at Lospodas, but this one was a pale blue color. Looking over at the colonel, she saw that he was still watching her closely, but she didn’t care. She slipped her arms into the dress and squirmed into it with as much haste and dignity as she could muster. 

As she walked back towards the colonel she tugged the dress’s lacing tight beneath her breasts, until it fit as snuggly as it was obviously supposed to. 

“So,” colonel Baisurd said when she was standing in front of his desk again. “What did you think of colonel Jasten’s training technique?”

“It’s effective,” Loreena admitted.

She looked at the chair that was sitting in front of the colonel’s desk. For a moment, she wished that the colonel would tell her to sit down, but then she wondered if he hadn’t purposely placed the chair right where it would tempt her. Perhaps he was neglecting to ask her to sit as a test: to see what she would do. Well, she wasn’t going to let colonel Jasten’s training control her any more than she could help. It made her feel a little uncomfortable, but she forced herself to pull out the chair and sat down, without even asking. 

“But not so effective for you, I’m happy to see. Still, it seems to have improved your manners a little, just as I had hoped.”

“I’m no longer being threatened with punishments, am I?” 

“No,” colonel Baisurd said. “You may feel free to sit as you please in my presence. I have no interest in controlling your every move, for I do not find it interesting to bend the will of a broken and helpless spirit. I prefer to leave an individual’s will intact and change their minds through various forms of persuasion.”

“I’m not sure I don’t I prefer colonel Jasten’s methods,” she said.

He smiled wryly. “Unfortunately, I didn’t choose my method for your amusement.” He stood then, and walked around the desk, taking her hand almost gently. “Come, my little pet. I have something to show you.” 

She was annoyed by this new endearment he had chosen. It came to close to describing exactly how she felt, and more than that, she sense that he knew how it would make her feel and had chosen it specifically for that reason. 

“Do you want to see what has become of your handiwork?” He gave her arm a gentle tug. “Come. Sit over here, in this chair.”

She resisted him for a moment, her old manners suddenly coming easily to her again..

“Oh, come now! Surely you must wonder what has become of Sondra Conse? I would think you would be concerned. There was a time when you were such good friends.”

 “I don’t want to think about her,” Loreena moaned.

He reached out and took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “You really must learn to overcome these unpleasant moods of yours, my pet.” He frowned as if he were about to say something that saddened him. “It doesn’t become you.”

“I thought you enjoyed having a willful slave.”

“Willful, yes. Rude or unpleasant, no. You will speak to me with respect or one of these days I might just send you back to colonel Jasten... and if I do, it won’t be as a short object lesson, this time. I doubt you would enjoy the full training regiment, and if I’m reduced to sending you through it, I won’t be bringing you back.”

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked,” Loreena whispered, unable to keep the fear or the anger out of her voice. 

“Yes, yes,” he released her, waving his hand in a trivial dismissal. “It was a small thing really. And I assure you, you will be well rewarded. But you and I have more that we can give each other!”

“What makes you think you have anything I want?” 

“I still have your sister,” he said. 

His voice was casual, without a hint of menace, but the threat was unmistakable; and it took the fight out of Loreena. She let him lead her to the chair without further protest. 

“I plan to publish some of these pictures in the next issue of Sado-Poll magazine,” he spoke conversationally, spreading several photographs on the desk in front of her. “Sondra was the Poll-girl for this last issue. In the next issue it will be time to let the readers know how she fared. I was curious myself, how the readers would vote. I, of course, voted for a long life of torture—but it’s hard to say how public opinion will go. She was not very popular among Zanadian men, although the women seem to like her.”

Loreena was hardly listening. She was riveted in place by the photos: torn by the sight of them, but unable not to look.

Sondra was the center piece of every one. 

“This series is particularly interesting,” the colonel said pointing out four photos that showed doctors drilling holes through Sondra’s wrists. “Your friend has a unique ability to collapse her hands so that they are no larger than her wrists. It posed quite an intriguing problem, trying to design bracelets that could prevent her from doing this.” The next two pictures showed her being fitting with the wrist manacles he spoke of. They encircled her wrists in the normal fashion, but they had two holes which allowed a pin to pass through the holes in her wrists.

“You can see our solution was rather ingenious. The real problem was drilling holes that were large enough to take a sturdy metal rod, without damaging the ligaments, muscles or bones. After all, we didn’t’ want to permanently maim her. But then, Lazinta proved her usefulness again.”

“What is it you want from me?” Loreena asked her voice barely more than a whisper.

The colonel smiled. “You like to get right to the point don’t you? Very well. I need you to participate in Sondra’s tortures,” the colonel said. “Sondra’s loss was a blow to Leskral, but they have recovered admirably; and they have mounted their own campaign of raiding. Nothing as successful as ours, but... enough to make some people think that maybe we should have left well enough alone. There are other colonel’s within Lospodas who would try to use this to weaken my position; there are even conservatives in the Zanadian government who feel we should go so far as to accept the women’s movement without reserve. They feel Lospodas should no longer receive funds to support its covert activities.” He shrugged. “It’s a delicate situation, as you can guess. But I’m confident that reasonable men will see the need to maintain constant pressure against Leskral. All those men need is a little push from public opinion, and that’s where you come in, my dear.”

Loreena had recovered some of her composure while the colonel talked; and it occurred to her to wonder if the colonel had deliberately told her of Lospodas’ supposed troubles to make her decision all the more difficult to bear.

“Why,” Loreena said. “Why does it have to be me?”

“The women’s movement has used Sondra’s kidnapping to gather sympathetic support among some of the more liberal men’s factions, in a way that I had not anticipated. I need you to help change that. You were very prominent in the ranks of the women’s movement. I plan to write an article describing how you, Sondra’s closest friend, saw the light and turned against the movement. There will be quotes from you—supported by video tapes for the news reels, so no one will be able to say that it was faked. You will talk about Leskral’s substandard living conditions, the cruel treatment you received from superiors. You will tell how they curtailed your freedoms once you joined; and terrorized you to keep you in line.”

“But none of that is true.”

“A minor technicality,” he said.

“Why can’t you just write it,” she said, embarrassed by the whining tone of her own voice. 

“Without you in the pictures… saying the words… actively showing which side you support.” He shook his head. “
such an article wouldn’t mean much. It will only have the power to sway the men’s groups I’ve mentioned—and perhaps even more importantly, other women who may be considering joining the women’s movement—If they see a woman from Leskral saying the words. And I don’t mean a reluctant and depressed woman. You will have to appear willing and enthusiastic when you appear on the newsreels. Anything less will be unacceptable.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” she said. “How do you expect me to make anyone believe that my heart is really in it? I’m not that good an actress.”

“How unfortunate for Mikki, if you can’t.” 

Loreena took a deep breath that caught in her throat. “You enjoy making this as difficult for me as you can, don’t you.” 

The colonel laughed. “Am I that transparent,” he said. Then he sobered “Seriously, I do know how difficult this is for you. I’m not stupid enough to think that you can just do it—not convincingly anyway. Therefore, I’m willing to give you a little time; and I’m going to let you practice on other women for a while, before you have to do the real thing with Sondra, in public. That way you’ll have a chance to get used to the idea, and I’ll have a chance to see if you have what it takes to do the job convincingly.” 

Loreena closed her eyes and said nothing.

“You have no one to blame for this but yourself. If you had been a little more pleasant the first time we meet, I would be honor bound to find another way to solve this little dilemma now.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I think I’ve done exactly what you wanted me to do all along.”

“Don’t make it sound as if you didn’t have a choice, my pet. Unlike your sister, you’ve always had a choice. Even now you have a choice. If you want to, you can refuse to do this—you can even leave Lospodas.”

Loreena snorted. Why did he insist on pretending? Was it just another way to torment her? He seemed to delight in finding new ways to fuck with her mind. He always told her she was free to leave Lospodas! But of course, those were just words. Both of them knew that she had nowhere else to go. In truth, she was a prisoner, as surely as she had been under colonel Jasten’s care. If she returned to Leskral they would not hesitate to kill her; and out in the male oriented world, she would be protector-less. With no money and no fieflord, the best she could hope for would be to indenture herself to a kind master or slowly starve to death. 

The list of less pleasant options was much longer...

No, the burden of choice was a fraud, but he must surely know that the illusion of having a choice made it all the more difficult for her.

Well, she could always kill herself... that was a choice she hadn’t thought of for quite some time now. During her time with colonel Jasten, it hadn’t even been a possibility, except during the few hours of freedom that she had every few days. But there were other ways to kill oneself beside the death capsules. 

Loreena felt a sudden flood of relief at her decision. She would agree to the colonel’s demands and then, as soon as she was alone she would kill herself.

“Oh, by the way,” the colonel said. “If you think you can get out of this by committing suicide, you’re wrong.” 

Loreena looked up in surprise. How had he known what she was thinking? 

“As soon as you were dead, I’d have to start torturing Mikki again. You see that is my second option, should you refuse to help me.” His eyes seemed to be laughing at her. “My PR men could manage to make your suicide sound like a moral victory, of sort,” he explained. “And along with your sister’s torture, it could be made to work. Not as well as if you willingly joined us, but...”

Loreena closed her eyes to blot the colonel from her sight, to obliterate the room, and everything else that had suddenly become her whole world—even if it was only for a few moments of peace, a few seconds in the safe darkness of her own mind.

“Well,” the colonel prompted.

Well, what choice did she have? She didn’t want to torture Sondra but... Any alternative meant he would torture Mikki again; and she had a feeling that he would almost prefer that. 

But as much as it galled her to admit it, he had her beat. Having sacrificed Sondra would be meaningless, if she allowed Mikki to be tortured again now. And what good would it do to resist anyway? He would accomplish his ends one way or another. It was better to give in without the token fight and save Mikki some suffering. 

But what about Sondra? How could she help torture her friend anymore than she could let Mikki be tortured? And the other women: none of them deserved her betrayal. Perhaps the only difference was that Sondra would be tortured anyway; whether Loreena helped or not, but Mikki could be spared.

Almost imperceptibly she nodded; and her voice was nearly silent when she tried to speak, but the colonel could read the word on her lips; and he smiled almost sadly. “You gave in more easily than I expected,” he said.

“I guess I’m tired of fighting,” she said.

He nodded his understanding. “You may return to your private rooms now, if you wish.”


10 

Mikki was escorted to a lavish, but empty suite.

“These are your rooms now,” the Amorian servant said, ushering her into the living room with a flourish. “If you need food or any other type of assistance, you may order what you need via this intercom. And now, if you can’t think of any questions, I’ll take my leave. I would stay longer, but I have quite a list of other chores to do.”

Mikki watched the Amorian leaving, not even sure if she had been a beta or an alph. Perhaps Loreena would have known, she was much more familiar with the Amorian races and genders; but Loreena wasn’t here. Mikki looked around the spacious, empty room, digging her toes into the plush carpets and running her hands over the wood grain of the dinning room table. Then she wandered over to the bar, poured herself a drink and wished desperately that she were somewhere else. It was oh so much lovelier here than her room at the infirmary had been, but she was tired of being alone with nothing to do but stare at the walls of her room—even if the room was nicer than any other she had ever been in. She looked around for something to do, and found a small rubber ball sitting in a bowl on the counter. For a while she amused herself by throwing it against the wall, then she placed it back in the bowl and went into the bathroom. 

She was overwhelmed by the bathtub, and immediately she striped and climbed in; even before she had filled it with hot water. As she washed by herself, for the first time in many days, she splashed in the water and slopped it over the side, onto the tile floor. Then she found a shampoo bottle and scrubbed her hair clean. When she was done, she found a thick towel in the cabinet and dried herself off. Then she went to the bedroom and looked through the closet and the dressers. It was full of skimpy clothes: short shorts, midriffs, miniskirts, bikinis and halter tops. Mikki selected a pair of shorts and a string bikini bra; then tossed the rest back into the draw in disgust. She’d deal with finding something else to wear later. Right now she just wanted to lie down on the fat mattress of the bed…

…Mikki woke to the smell of food. She got up and wandered into the kitchen were she saw Loreena placing a plate onto the dining table which was laden with all kinds of breakfast foods. Loreena was almost naked, wearing only a sleek pair of black lace panties and a white cotton vest that hung open in the front and left her arms and midriff bare. Such revealing clothing was typical attire for the few women that Mikki had seen since coming to the Lospodas mansion, but it was disturbing to see her sister wearing the same things. Even more disturbing was the fact that her body was covered with a number of bruises and welts. 

Until now, Mikki had only seen Loreena wearing the open fronted dress that colonel Baisurd had given her on that first day at Lospodas; and, while it left her breasts bare, it was enough cover to hide the worst of the injuries she received at colonel Jasten’s hands; and it helped her maintain a certain measure of dignity.

Mikki tried to sit up, and groaned at the tenderness in her chest.

“It’s about time you woke up,” Loreena said. “Hungry? Our hosts may not be all that gracious, but at least the room is spacious and the grub is good.”

Mikki didn’t even have to think about it! She hadn’t tasted food that smelled this good in weeks. “I’m starved!”

“They don’t give us much to wear,” Loreena said, picking at her flimsy top as she walked towards the bed. “But what there is, is in this dresser and the closet over there. I laid a few things out for you,” She picked up a small pile of clothes that had been carefully folded and handed them to Mikki. “If you don’t like them you can try to find something you’ll be a little more comfortable in, but this is about the best there is.”

“This is the best,” Mikki asked, holding up a pair of short shorts that hardly cover more than Loreena’s skimpy pair of panties, and a loose fitting tie-front shirt that had no collar and no buttons.

Loreena smiled and shrugged with a helpless gesture. “At least they keep this place warm. Now hurry up and get dressed before the chow gets cold. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up and I’m starved too.”

Loreena went to the bar and fixed herself a double strength drink. “Want one,” she called over her shoulder.

“Sure,” Mikki said as she wiggled into her shorts.

They said very little as they ate, content to share the closeness and comfort of one another. Mikki was surprised at how little there was to talk about: very few subjects were safe. She didn’t dare mention the movement or any of their friends back at Leskral, and she didn’t know anyone here at Lospodas that she cared to know anything about—except Sondra and the others who had been taken; and that was to depressing a subject to consider.

So they ate in silence, and drank heavily. 

After the meal Mikki was feeling tired. She lay back down; and closed her eyes. 

When she woke again she was alone in the room and having nothing else to do, she began to look around. The apartment was surprisingly generous. There were two separate bedrooms, and they shared a well stocked bathroom. To the side of the kitchen was a small alcove, with a dining table and four ornately carved chairs. Between the bedrooms and the kitchen was a large, comfortable living room, with a fully stocked bar along one wall, and an elegant, glass topped, coffee table. A plush, black leather couch and chair sat facing an entertainment center with a large screen television, and a tape player. 

Mikki opened the cabinet and glanced through the collection of tapes inside. They all had cryptic, letter-coded names. Taking one of the tapes, she put it in the player. 

For a moment the screen was blank then it filled and held Mikki mesmerized as she watched herself hanging upside down from leather straps. The room echoed with the sound of her voice sobbing. For a moment Mikki didn’t recognize herself, even though she was naked and her face was in full view. The ball gag and the tears streaking down her cheeks made the person on the screen pitifully unrecognizable. Then the girls body went rigid as the ends of a metal-tipped whip brought red, blood welts up on the inside of her thighs. A hoarse scream was torn from her throat, and she trembled in pain. 

Mikki closed her eyes and shivered at the memory; almost as if the whip was striking her flesh again. On the video, the whip came down again, bringing another hoarse scream. 

Mikki’s throat could still remember the raggedness caused from so much screaming. 

She punched the off button and backed away from the machine. She could hear her blood pulsing in her ears with every beat of her heart; her lungs constricted within her chest as she was suddenly wracked with great convulsing sobs. After several minutes, she had cried herself out and was left feeling stiff and tired. She didn’t really feel like getting up. Her body was heavy with sleep, so she lay where she was and pulled a cushion down off the couch to rest her head. 

As she rolled onto her side to go back to sleep, she noticed a magazine that was lying underneath the couch. She picked it up, and sat up to look at it.

The cover bore the title: SADO-POLL; beneath it was a full page picture of Sondra Conse. She hung from her wrists which had been balled with tape, and her feet were tied off the floor, her legs at forty-five degree angles. A prickly, yellow wire had been wrapped around her chest and her ample breasts until they were dark red and gorged with blood. Clothes pins had been clamped on her nipples, and her stomach and legs were splotched with red from a recent whipping. 

Below her picture were the words: 

This Month’s Poll Girl 
Is Sondra Conse.
Death, Or A Life Of Torture?
You Decide With Every Vote!


Slowly Mikki opened the magazine and turned to the article that held Sondra’s life in it’s hand. At the end of the article there would be a mail-in questionnaire. Thousands of men, who hated Sondra and the movement that she stood for, would read this magazine and send in a copy of that questionnaire.

Mikki hopped that they would decide for death, but she didn’t think they would let her off that easy. Almost all of the Poll-girls became Dunija, the dungeon girls who were keep as toys of torture for the wealthy men who could pay the price Lospodas asked for them.

Mikki was crying when she finally closed the magazine and slipped it back under the couch. As she got up and walked back to her bed, she wondered who could have hidden the magazine there beneath the couch. The guards must have left it laying out on the table, and Loreena had hidden it so that she wouldn’t find it. But she had found it. Just as she had found the videotapes in the cabinet. And how many other surprises would she find?


11

Loreena’s mind was racing as she walked down the hall towards the library. She needed something to take her mind off her problems. [PAO1]So far, the colonel had left her alone—contenting himself with simple tortures like giving her dresses to wear, but only providing the skimpiest of clothes for Mikki. Loreena had refused to wear the dresses because she didn’t want to alienate her sister. She had even gone so far as to remove all the dresses from her closet and her dresser; and ask for the skimpier variety—just so that Mikki would never know they’d been given to her.

But she knew her luck wouldn’t last much longer. The colonel wasn’t a patient man; and he wouldn’t have given the dresses to her if he didn’t want her to wear them. 

Loreena turned a corner and saw two guards coming towards her. As always when she wandered around the halls—and especially when she was around other people—she had the feeling that she was being watched. She knew it was probably just her sensitivity to the lack of suitable clothing; but that didn’t make her feel any more comfortable wearing so little, especially outside their private rooms.

The halls frequently contained heavy traffic: both men and women. 

Few of the women wore much more than she did, in fact some went completely nude. And no one seemed to pay much attention, regardless of what she wore—so why this irrational feeling? She wasn’t showing anything that dozens of other people weren’t showing all around her. 

She wished there was someone she could talk to, the way she had been able to talk with the women at Leskral. But so far none of the men or women she had met at Lospodas held much appeal; and she was content to ignored them, just as they ignored her. 

A group of women were coming up the long flight of stairs as Loreena turned the corner and started down. It was an unusually large and diverse group. One carried a whip and wore a bizarre costume made of straps of leather and lengths of chain. Whatever the purpose of the costume, it was certainly not meant to cover her up. She was talking to a woman who was wearing an open-breasted dress much like the one the colonel had given her when she first came to Lospodas. Together they lead four naked Kandic alphs who were joined by lengths of chain at their slave collars. The arms of the chained Amorians were tied behind their backs. They were dirty, and weary with exhaustion. A fine sheen of perspiration covered their bodies and made them glisten, and there skin was marked with old scars as well as new welts and abrasions where a whip had been used unkindly on every portion of their bodies. 

Loreena wondered what their lots were, as she watched them pass by and continued down the stairs. 

Such groups of women or Amorians were not uncommon. These were not the first she had seen. Still, seeing them set her mind into a turmoil—bringing to the surface all the emotions that she thought she had drowned in the simmering depths of her soul. By the time she reached the library, tears of frustration and anger blurred her eyes. How would she ever be able to treat another woman like that?

She wiped at the tears as she entered the large carpeted room, and headed for the shelves. 

The library wasn’t very full. An elderly male librarian sat behind the counter reading one of the magazines that Lospodas published. There were about half a dozen other women sitting in the lounge chairs or at the reading tables. A few more were scattered around the shelves looking for books—but other than the librarian, there was only one man in the whole room. Maybe this was because the men who came to the Lospodas mansion were rarely interested in anything as mundane as reading material; and those who worked here, when they weren’t on duty, had other more entertaining activities to keep them busy. The guards and other men who worked at the mansion were all free to leave. They could go home to family or friends; or any number of other activities outside the confines of the mansion’s gates... But the women, as a rule, were never free to leave without supervision. These premises were the whole of their world; and they were forced to take what pleasures they could find. 

Loreena walked down the rows of shelves looking for a subject that could capture her interest. The fictional books seemed like an infinite variety of erotic themes, from surprisingly conventional romances to violent bondage scenarios. The magazines where mostly pictorials, with a similar range of themes. There were how-to books on everything from make-up and etiquette to leather working and tying knots. There were references on several different languages and musical studies; historical works, and autobiographies. 

Loreena sighed and went back to the fiction section to look for a romance. A woman was at the shelf now, reading the back cover of a book. As Loreena approached she looked up and they smiled at one another. 

“Is any of this stuff good?” Loreena asked.

The woman laughed. “That depends on what you like.” 

“I’m not sure,” Loreena said. “I’ve never done much reading before, but I though I might enjoy a good story.”

“Then you’re definitely out of luck.”

Loreena smiled. “I’m Loreena Manorin. What’s your name.”

“Imbella Rissum.” 

“I’ve heard of you,” Loreena frowned. “You’re the chief editor of Sado-poll magazine?”

Imbella nodded, without looking away. “Then that makes us even,” she said. “I’ve heard of you too.” 

They were both a little infamous. Sado-Poll was the most popular and blatantly anti-feminine publication that Lospodas produced. It was responsible for condemning numerous women to death or to lives of endless torture and despair. Now it had destroyed the life of Sondra Conse: the leader of the women’s movement, and a woman who used to be Loreena’s closest friend... 

Yet how could Loreena think ill of this woman when she herself had turned Sondra in. She understood how Lospodas could manipulate people, and even if Imbella did her work willingly, Loreena’s own crime was still far worse: she had betrayed her friend, and delivered a severe blow to the women’s movement.

Imbella voice had been light and friendly, but Loreena knew what her words meant. They did not condemn Loreena, but they said, ‘you have no right to condemn me, either.’ And deep down Loreena knew that it was true. More than that though, she liked this woman. Here was someone that she could talk to.  

The smile that came to Loreena’s lips was genuine, if a little sad and self-mocking. “It’s almost noon,” she said. “Have you eaten.”

“Not a bite all day,” Imbella answered.

“I haven’t been here very long. I’m not sure If I can find the cafeteria from here. Would you mind leading the way so I don’t get lost. I hate asking for directions” Loreena looked down at the floor, feeling suddenly shy and uncomfortable. “Besides, I think maybe I would… enjoy some company for dinner.”

Imbella touched her arm reassuringly. “Lets go eat,” she said. When Loreena looked up she was surprised to see the enthusiasm sparkling in Imbella’s eyes. “It’s tough when they first get their hooks into you,” she said. “And it doesn’t get any easier without friends.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Loreena said.

...A few minutes later they came to the door of Imbella’s rooms. 

“What’s this,” Loreena asked. “I thought we were going to eat.”

“I’ve food and a kitchen,” Imbella said as she opened her door. “It’ll be so much nicer than eating at the public trough, don’t you think?”

Loreena laughed, suddenly a little nervous.

“Come on,” Imbella said, taking her hand ever so gently. “Good conversation over a quiet, intimate dinner... what more could you ask for.”

“I don’t know,” Loreena said; slightly reluctant, but allowing Imbella’s long delicate fingers to pull her gently inside.

“Well,” Imbella said, with a mirthful laugh. “When you think of something, you be sure to let me know.”

Later that evening, they were still together, cuddling one another in Imbella’s bed. Loreena rolled over and looked at the wall clock. “I should be going,” she said. “My sister will be wondering where I am.” 

“I didn’t know you had a sister?” 

“I came to Lospodas to get her,” Loreena said. “But it didn’t work out quite the way I planned.”

“It never does,” Imbella said. 

Loreena sat up and began to slip back into her clothes.

“How old is she?” 

“My sister? She just turned of age a while back... Why?”

Imbella shrugged. “I was going to invite you to a party tonight. If your sister wants to, she can come too.”

“What kind of party?”

“Drinking, smoking, music, dancing, men… sex, drugs. What other kind of party is there?”

Loreena frowned. “I don’t think my sister would be up for that right now. She’s had a tough time of it since she’s been here and I wouldn’t feel right going without her. I shouldn’t have left her alone so long as it is, she isn’t completely well yet. I should be staying closer to her than I have this afternoon. Maybe another time. Okay.”

“Sure,” Imbella said with a sympathetic smile. “There are usually at least a couple of parties going on around here every night. You won’t be missing anything you won’t be able to join in on tomorrow, believe me. We’ll catch up with each other another time and have a blast. I’ll introduce you to some friends of mine. You do like men don’t you?” 

Loreena shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Go on,” Imbella said. “Get out of here.” She clapped Loreena gently on the arm. “Go and be the good big sister.”




   
