
Last updated on 3/13/05

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: 
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The Torture of Choice

Chapter Four
Of
The War with Lospodas

By Trystl


1

“Please,” the woman whispered. “I’ve had enough! I can’t take any more.” 

Loreena looked down at the attractive, young woman bound in front of her, and felt sick at the thought of what she must be enduring. She was strapped at the waist to a low metal loop that served as the back of her chair; and impaled by a large metal dildo that was attached to the chair’s center. Her wrists were held out in front of her by cuffs that hung from chains in the ceiling. Each cuff had a fifteen-pound weight hanging from it, so the girl couldn’t lift her arms for more than a fraction of a second. This kept her hands in just the right position for being struck with Loreena’s ruler. But what really made the woman’s ordeal terrible, was the fact that each of her fingers had a long needle wedged completely underneath the fingernail.

“I’ll decide when you’ve had enough,” Loreena said, trying to force a coldness into her voice that she didn’t feel. She struck the back of the woman’s hands again, even harder than before. The stroke brought a ragged gasp from the woman lips, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as she gritted her teeth and tried not to cry out or say anything more. 

Loreena found it difficult not to take pity on her, and beg Buel for mercy on her behalf—but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Asking would just anger him and make the girl’s tortures last that much longer.

She struck the back of the woman’s hands again then glanced over at Buel, not really expecting him to nod his permission for her to stop. As she had suspected, he did not; and she force herself to bring the ruler down again. Each stroke left a nasty looking red welt across the woman’s hands.

As hard as this part of the torture was, however, it was easier by far, than placing the metal slivers under the woman’s fingernails had been. That had required Loreena to hold the woman’s hands, and she had been able to feel her trembling with the pain. 

I mustn’t think about it, Loreena thought, as she brought the ruler down again.

“Why don’t you give her something to take her mind off the pain in her fingers?”

Loreena almost jumped at the sound of Buel’s voice; and when she turned he was right beside her. She had been so engrossed in what she was doing that she hadn’t heard him approaching. She swallowed, and looked at the array of toys he was holding out for her on a tray: there were nipple clamps, with weights, and three different weights of whips, including a bullwhip which could literally take the skin off the girl’s back. 

“Good idea,” Loreena said. She took the clamps and placed one on each of the girl’s breasts; slowly and teasingly adding the weights. Next she choose the lightest whip from the tray.

“Why did you choose the lightest whip,” Buel asked.

Loreena shrugged. She’d wanted to use the whip that would cause the least amount of pain; but she couldn’t admit to that. So she said the first thing that came into her mind. “I just want to cause pain,” she said, “I don’t want to damage her skin. That might put her out of action for several days—even weeks, if it became infected.”

When Buel nodded his approval, Loreena relaxed. He would let her use the light whip after all.

She walked around behind the woman and brought the whip down somewhat timidly across her back. It was enough to make her jump a little, but she knew it would not satisfy Buel. So she tried again, putting a little more into it and was rewarded with a loud thwack that brought stifled gasp of pain from the woman’s lips.

“One of the obvious advantages of the light whip,” Buel said. “Is that you can cause a lot of pain without causing a lot of damage. You can make the session last much longer; and you can lay down a much harder stroke, and it will look like you’re giving them the beating of their life. You can’t do that with a bullwhip. The pain is of course much worse… but a few strokes is all you get, and even the strongest man becomes a lifeless rag doll. It’s not much of a show, if the purpose of your punishment is primarily theatrical. The victim puts on a great show when you use a small whip. It stings, but you don’t sap their energy, if you know what I mean?”

Loreena nodded and brought the whip down hard enough to leave a nice red print, and make the woman jump. 

“That’s not bad,” Buel said. “But I want her to jump so high that I can see that dildo she’s sitting on. And to do that, you may need to be a little more creative.” He took the whip from Loreena’s hand, took a step closer to the woman, then brought the whip around sidearm so that it caught her across the ribs and flicked the nipple clamps, ripping a scream from her lips and making her twitch sideways instead of jumping as she had for Loreena.

 “Right now,” Buel said. “All you’re trying to do is get through this session without puking or passing out.” He laughed at his own little joke, but it wasn’t far from the truth; and Loreena blushed that her queasiness was so transparent. “That’s understandable. But you’ll need to start being a little more creative in future sessions. Remember, a big part of this is showmanship. You’re performing for the camera, and you need to do more than just make your girl scream. You need to look like you’re having fun too, but more important than anything else, you need to make it fun for other people to watch. And you do that, in part, by being aware of what your own body is doing, as well as hers.”

This time he brought the whip down across the woman’s inner thigh, and she clamped her teeth down again to keep from screaming. 

“She has a delightful way of squirming when you hit her across the breasts.” Buel said, handing the whip back to Loreena. “Everywhere else, she seems capable of keeping herself more or less under control. But not there. That’s definitely something that you should take advantage of. Keep in mind that part of the purpose of these informal sessions is so that you can try as many things as you can with each girl. That way you can find out which things bring out the best response from each of them. That’s important when you have an audience. It makes for wonderful theatre when someone knows their slave well enough to play them like a musical instrument.”

Loreena tried the whip sidearm and caught the woman across the stomach. This time she managed not to make any sound at all, although she flinched and trembled with the effort.

Suddenly Loreena giggled. “She’s more inhibited than I am,” she said. “Maybe we should put a gag in her mouth so you can’t tell that she isn’t screaming.”

“You can if you want to,” Buel said. “But it doesn’t really work. A gag doesn’t stop a scream, it just muffles it some. Besides, I’ve already decided that this session isn’t going to end until you’ve taught our girl here how to loosen up. I want her to squirm and scream with conviction and style. Personally, I think the best part of any session is the sound: the crack of the whip, a throaty little moan or a scream and then the rattle of chains.”

Loreena nodded and brought the whip down again, across the woman’s inner thigh. This time she let out a hoarse, almost strangled little scream. 

“A little better, don’t you think?” 

“Better,” Buel agreed. “But still not very convincing. As you said, she’s still too inhibited and her voice has no personality at all. Fortunately, those are things that can be worked on.”


2

“Come in,” colonel Baisurd said.

Loreena slipped in through the open door and stood just inside the room. Patiently she waited, but the colonel didn’t look up or acknowledge her. 

She was starting to feel uncomfortable about the pair of thong panties and the tie front shirt she was wearing. She almost wished she would have changed into a dress before coming to the colonel’s summons. The panties made her feel almost naked. At least, in a miniskirt or a pair of shorts, she would have felt like she was wearing clothes. What bothered her most was that she’d had the time to do it. The guard had given her the note and then left, instead of waiting to escort her as they usually did. 

She hated to admit the fear that made her drop everything and come at the colonel’s call—but at least she had been left to find her own way. That was a reassurance. She was free now to wander the halls of Lospodas when she wasn’t with Buel, practicing the various techniques of torture. She had been wandering with regularity for some time—but this was the first time a guard had not escorted her when the colonel summoned. 

“Mikki’s health is returning,” the colonel said.

Loreena looked up with a start and saw that he was watching her. 

How long had he been studying her like that? 

“It’s time for a few changes,” he said. 

Loreena felt a sudden chill. With the exception of Loreena’s new duties helping Buel, the colonel had been true to his words: Loreena and Mikki had been given an extravagant room to share, with closets amply stocked with nice, if skimpy, clothes. They ordered excellent meals which were brought to their room by serving maids; and they were free to spend the majority of their time as they chose—even Mikki could wander the halls undisturbed, if she chose to. It was far more luxury than either of them had known with their sisters at Leskral; and however much Loreena hated to admit it, she was growing accustomed to the pampered treatment. She cherished it as the only respite from her otherwise miserable existence. 

But now, something in the colonel’s voice told her that things were about to change once again.

“What changes?” Loreena asked. 

“Mikki’s weight, for one.” 

When Loreena said nothing, the colonel went on.

“I’ve noticed the two of you have been eating rather well. Mikki has gained a few more pounds than is necessary for the return of her health. That trend has to stop or I’ll be forced to reevaluate my options for her.”

“What does that mean?”

“It was my intention to let Mikki join the elite of my escort corps.” He frowned at Loreena’s reaction. “I know you’ve been living at Leskral—with their perverted ways—so maybe you find the idea of entertaining strange men distasteful, instead of seeing it as an honor, not to mention your duty as a woman? Perhaps you’ve developed a taste for other women? But being an escort, especially an elite escort, has many advantages over most of the other jobs I could giver her. For example, it is one of the few positions at Lospodas which will entitle her to continue in the luxury she has grown accustomed to. Unlike the menial servants, she will not have to work and slave all day. Most of her time will be her own, to do with as she pleases. If she does her job well, the men may even give her money or gifts which she will be allowed to keep. All in all, there are very few women at Lospodas who would not envy her position. In fact, there are few women outside the mansion’s walls who would not envy her too.

“However,” he said. “There is a certain standard for that position, and right now, Mikki comes perilously close to not meeting it. It’s unfortunate that she didn’t have the same mother you did. She has a delightful face, you understand; and she could do a lot more by fixing herself up: doing her hair and using a little makeup, but we both know she’ll never have a svelte figure. I had hoped that she would loose the baby fat and mature into a full figured sort of girl. But I must admit that I suspected this moment would come eventually, I just hoped it would take a little longer. So, it appears she may have to work a little harder at keeping an acceptable figure than I had anticipated. In any case, I expect you to see that she does.” The colonel leaned back in his chair. “In fact,” he said. “I’m going to put Mikki totally under your care. Until now, she has been directly under my care and, or course, I will remain her fieflord, but you will be her guardian: with absolute authority over your sister and responsible and accountable only to me for what you choose to do with her.”

“And what happens if she won’t listen to me?”

The colonel grinned. “It’s up to you to decide how to make her listen. But I suggest that you find a way. As I’ve said, there are a great many unpleasant jobs that I could give her. If you fail, I assure you, I will give her one of the more unpleasant ones I can think of; and you will also be punished severely for your failure. As always, of course, you are free to leave, if you would rather—but as long as you choose to remain here you are subject to the laws of Lospodas, and more specifically, to me. Therefore, you will submit to my discipline when it is called for; and failing to keep your charge under your control is a serious matter. I won’t treat it lightly.”

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Along with taking responsibility for Mikki comes a great deal of freedom. You can use any method of discipline you deem necessary, as long as it doesn’t cause any permanent damage to her body or mind. One of the reasons I sent you to colonel Jasten was to give you some of the experience you will need to deal with this sort of thing. Hopefully extreme measures wont be needed; but if you should need advice you may request it from Buel, you may request the service of guards to assist you, just contact the quartermaster at his office near the East barracks. If you should need special supplies, you can also requisition them from the commissary or the stockroom. If you want something they don’t have, you can put in a request for a work order and, as long as it can be made and isn’t unreasonable, the workmen will follow your exact specifications. I will reevaluate your sister’s situation on a monthly basis. If she shows improvement at the next evaluation, I will reward both of you. If things stay the same, you will receive a mild punishment and she will be reassigned to a less desirable position until the next evaluation. If her weight problem should continue to worsen...” He shrugged, then his eyes light up with a mischievous smile, as if he had just thought of something rather clever. “You may be familiar with the place they call the butcher house. They like plump women and I suspect Mikki could be fattened up quite nicely if she was given the right food in ample quantity.”

Loreena’s eyes went wide with horror. “You can’t! We had an agreement,” she whispered. “You said you’d leave her alone.”

“Any promise I made, beyond ceasing her torture, was contingent upon your expedient cooperation, which I did not receive… so technically, I am not obligated to you by honor in any way. I have been providing the both of you with a high standard of living, but that is contingent upon your willing cooperation.” He grimaced. “It’s not an entirely pleasant thought for me either, I do have my own plans for the girl… but everyone at Lospodas must carry their own weight—and my Amorian healer has assured me that although it will be difficult, Mikki will be capable of maintaining a desirable weight. If you need help you can seek her out. Her name is Lazinta and you may trust that her advice is sound. So, that is my final word. One way or another Mikki will keep her weight down and you will keep her in line or you will both pay the consequences. Have I made myself clear?” 

“Very!” Loreena said coldly. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes. I want her to report to the boutique tomorrow. Matolin can use her for the time being, and maybe Mikki will learn how to paint her face and do something with her hair. When I reevaluate her next, I will determine if another position would be more suitable, but she strikes me as a smart girl. She shouldn’t have any problems.

“And one more thing. I want you to start taking advantage of your position and wearing the kind of clothes that it is your right to wear. I can’t make someone a trustee, give them the kind of responsibility I’ve given you and then let them dress like one of the common girls whenever they leave their room to go out in public. Therefore, you will get rid of all of the clothes you’ve been wearing and requisition some more appropriate things. Pick them up as soon as you leave my office. They’ll be expecting you.”


3 

“It’s about time you woke up,” Loreena said when Mikki finally sat up on the couch and looked around. “Are you hungry?”

Mikki stretched; and felt the colonel’s leather collar tightening around her neck. Her whole body was stiff and sore, probably from sleeping on the couch, or maybe just from laying around the apartments and doing little but eating and drinking for the last several days. She threw back the sheet she’d taken from the linen closet and straightened her halter top, which had gotten twisted around while she sleep—she wasn’t wearing any bottom. Then she walked towards the table, rubbing her eyes.

“Where did you get the new dress?” She asked eyeing Loreena’s outfit. 

So far, no one had tried to enter without knocking and giving them time to dress if they needed to, so Mikki often went without clothes in their rooms, rather than wear what little was provided for her. Loreena couldn’t seem to get used to doing that. For her, even a little bit of coverage had been better than none. Now she looked down at her dress and frowned. “I guess it’s supposed to be a present from the colonel,” she said, her voice filled with disgust even though Mikki knew that she felt much more comfortable in it than the old stuff she had been forced to wear. “He took away the old stuff and gave me a new wardrobe.”

“How nice for you,” Mikki said forcing a smile. 

She felt miserably depressed. Loreena’s new clothes only made it worse. She knew it wasn’t Loreena’s fault but she couldn’t help being resentful; and maybe that was what the colonel had in mind. 

Sitting down at the table, she looked at her plate. “Is this all you ordered to eat?” .. 

“I’m sorry about the new clothes, Mikki. What do you want me to do, not wear them? He’s taken everything else!”

“I don’t care about the clothes,” she lied. “But you could have asked for a little more to eat.”

“I’m sorry,” Loreena said; and for a moment Mikki thought she wanted to say more but she only picked up her fork, and stared at her own plate as if she suddenly wasn’t hungry any more.

“I’m going to reorder,” Mikki said as she stood up. 

Loreena shook her head. “It won’t do you any good, Mikki.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t order food any more.”

“I’ve been cut off?”

Loreena nodded. 

“But not you, right? You can still order?”

Loreena shrugged. “The colonel put me in charge of ordering our food. It’s no big deal.”

“No. It’s no big deal,” she said angrily. “I just have to ask you every time I want to eat. I’ve got to go track you down and ask you for permission.” She sat down heavily and folded her arms. “Well now, isn’t that convenient? Kind of like your new wardrobe.”

“It wasn’t my idea, Mikki.” Loreena looked over at her. “The colonel said I had to start rationing our food. He thinks we’re eating to much, and... he wants us to start using the exercise room.” 

“Why,” Mikki asked her voice thick with sarcasm. “Is he afraid I’ll get fat?” 

Loreena didn’t look at her; didn’t answer. 

“Are you trying to tell me that I’m fat!”

“You’re not fat, Mikki.”

“Excuse me, getting fat!” 

“You have gained a little weight. Maybe five or ten pounds...”

“...Have I?”

“Yes, and if you don’t do something about it...”

“…Then I’m going to get fat?”

“Please Mikki, just eat.”

“I’m not hungry anymore” She headed for the door and was turning the knob before she remembered that she wasn’t wearing anything. She turned back and stalked into the bedroom.

“You should eat something,” Loreena said.

“Think of this as going on a diet.” She grabbed the pair of short shorts that were laid out for her and stepped into them as she walked for the door.

“Mikki, you can’t go anywhere,” Loreena said. “The colonel wants you to report to the boutique this morning.” 

“Yeah, right,” Mikki said, pulling on her top as she walked out the door and slammed it behind her. 

She headed down the hall without any idea where she was going. It was one of the few times she had left their room alone: without Loreena or a guard around.

*****

Lospodas mansion was a virtual labyrinth of rooms and halls. From the barred window she was looking out, Mikki could see that numerous additions had been added onto the original building; she wondered if anyone even remembered which section was the original. Often the add-ons weren’t even in the same architectural style, and canopies and enclosed catwalks joined the parts of various buildings that were not butted together. 

It was raining outside, and Mikki hadn’t even known: there were no windows in her room and several layers of building above and below her. She wished she could open the window and smell the rain, but the latch was tightly locked. It wouldn’t budge. 

Voices drew her attention from the window.

Two dark haired women were talking as they came down the hall. They carried rags and spray bottles filled with a bluish liquid; and they wore an identical sort of uniform which Mikki guessed was supposed to be a minimalist caricature of the traditional maid’s uniform. A tiny little apron was tightly belted around their waist. It wasn’t large enough to cover much; and since it was tied around their waist, it didn’t quite cover the right spot anyway. Their pubic mounds were cleanly shaven, and leather straps ran between their legs. They wore black heels, and black stockings which were held up by tiny flat chains that connected to their waist belts. Draped around their necks, like necklaces, were small black bibs trimmed with white lace; and on each of their wrists were a pair of stiff white ruffles. 

As Mikki moved away from the window, they approached and began washing it. The taller of the two looked over at Mikki. “What are you staring at?” She asked.

“Nothing,” Mikki said, looking away. “I was just leaving.”


4

Mikki spent the next hour or so wandering. 

At first she found wandering on her own to be very satisfying, but as her anger wore off it began to lose most of its appeal. She was still hungry, and here in the halls there was nothing to eat or drink. What she was wearing had also begun to make her a little uncomfortable. Most of the individuals she passed in the hall were men, but groups came in a much wider variety. There were several groups of Amorian’s, most of whom seemed to be servants of some kind or another. There were a few groups of all men, but more groups of men escorting women. There were also groups of women, and sometimes a woman would be leading a group of other women who were obviously her charges. Sometimes the charges were naked, or they were tied with plenty of rope, or they wore reveling clothes like Mikki’s. The women leading them often wore dresses that were obviously designed to be sexy and revealing. Relatively few women walked the halls alone, but all those that Mikki saw were always wearing a dress.

Most of those who passed by Mikki eyed her with suspicion, or even open hostility. She worried that someone would eventually stop and question her about what she was doing, and she would have gladly returned to her room; but she had long since become lost and didn’t know how to ask anyone for directions since she didn’t know where she wanted to go. She couldn’t expect anyone else to know where her room was, and that was the one place—other than the colonel’s office—that she knew to ask about. She flatly refused to ask to be taken to the colonel, so she just wandered around trying to stay out of everyone’s way as much as possible. 

Mikki stopped for a few moments as she passed a room where music was coming from a live band inside. She walked a little closer, peeking inside, and saw that the room was filled with women and men who were dancing and laughing over drinks. A few couples and larger groups were intertwined in various states of passion and undress. Naked Amorians were on the stage playing their instruments while a human woman sang. Mikki leaned against the door frame, listening to the light and lovely music. It made her think of the festive parties at Leskral, and the fun she and BOOTZ NOar always had. They had become fast friends shortly after Mikki arrived with Loreena at the Leskral reservation, and they had spent almost all their free time together. Just before Mikki had left, they had begun to be more and more preoccupied with their own sexuality, and had started their first few awkward sessions of experimenting with one another. 

She wasn’t sure why the music reminded her of that. It was a little sad, but sensual and strangely festive at the same time. Perhaps the song’s apparent sadness was but a reflection of her mood.

She sighed, and looked away from the band as she saw two women wearing black leather dresses coming towards her. Mikki quickly ducked out into the hall, and began to walk away. When she reached the corner she looked back. The women seemed to be following her. She heard them talking as she disappeared around the corner. She could hear their heels clicking as they walked, and knew that they were speeding up to try to keep her in sight. Mikki started walking faster too, and turned the next corner she came to, hoping that they would keep going straight—hoping that it was just her imagination that she thought they were following her. She could hear them turn the corner behind her. Mikki looked back and began to walk a little faster still. They were walking faster too—no longer even trying to hide their haste. Mikki turned another corner and began to run... and then there was no longer any doubt, they were chasing her. 

Mikki flew down some stairs, turned another corner; and ran headlong into a tall dark haired man, knocking the stack of books he was carrying out of his hands. She clung to him, fighting for her own balance as well as his. “I’m so sorry,” she said, dropping to her knees and picking up her books. 

The two women who were chasing pulled up short as they came around the corner. 

“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded.

“I’m sorry, sir,” they said in unison. They spared a quick glance at one another, then one of them continued speaking. “We noticed this girl wandering aimlessly and thought it best to find out why. When we began following her she started to run.”

The man looked down at Mikki. She had finished gathering his books and held them out to him, but his hand tightened around her arm instead. 

“They were chasing me,” Mikki breathed, suddenly certain that her explanation would sound ridiculous to this man. “How was I to know what they wanted from me?”

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” 

“And where’s your protector?”

“My protector?” A cold chill ran up her spine. 

The man raised his eyebrows. “Your collar indicates that you are the property of Lospodas,” he said. “Which means that one of the colonels is ultimately your fieflord. The clothes you’re wearing would indicate that your status is relatively low, which would suggest that your colonel has probably delegated his responsibility for you to another one of the guards, or perhaps to another one of the women under his control. A colonel doesn’t have the time to take a personal interest in every woman under his control. Ultimately however, you are still under the jurisdiction of your colonel. If you get into trouble, your protector gets into trouble with their superior; and they pass the punishment down to you—usually in triplicate. Understand?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

“Not much on respect, are you?” The man said. 

“I’m sorry, I meant no...”

“Don’t worry! He waved her explanation away. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He glanced at the other two women, then back at Mikki. 

“So? What were you doing when they started following you?”

Mikki shrugged. “I got lost,” she said. It was true—but she sensed that he expected a little more of an answer; and she didn’t want to say that she stormed out of her room in a tantrum because she wasn’t given enough breakfast to eat. “I was looking for a place to exercise.” She looked down at the floor, embarrassed to admit it; but it was the only plausible excuse she could think of. “I’m supposed to start exercising. Colonel Baisurd thinks I’m getting fat.”

“Do he now,” the man said as if that piqued his interest. He squeezed her arm and laughed. “Indeed! A right plump little looker, aren’t you?”

She felt her face turning red.

“Well, not to worry,” His eyes roamed down the length of Mikki’s body. “These women could show you how to get where you’re going, but I’m sure they must have other appointments; and most of the training facilities are on the other side of the compound.” He looked directly at the two girls now. “The two of you couldn’t possibly spare that much time, could you?”

“No, sir,” one of the girls said: taking his hint.

“Were almost late already,” said the other.

He dismissed them with a mocking wave of good-bye, then turned back to Mikki. “Well then,” he said. “I suppose I can take you there, if you’re willing to accompany me for a spell first.”

“I guess I could do that,” Mikki agreed.

He took her arm and they went together down the hall, walking in silence for a while. Mikki was still holding his books, since he had made no effort to retrieve Them. 

“My name is Geot,” he said. “Most of my friends call me Honest Geot,” he gave a small laugh that seemed to indicate that he thought the name was somewhat of a misnomer. “Colonel Baisurd however likes to call me Angry Geot.”

“You know the colonel?”

“Yes, I know your colonel,” he said, looking at her more carefully now. “Well enough to know that you’re not his usual type, but then he doesn’t have as rigid a preference as some of the other colonels; and he likes to play games with his women. Leaving you to learn the house rules on your own is something he would enjoy doing.” 

“You must know him very well then.”

“The colonel and I were friends when we were younger; which is one of the reasons I let myself come to Lospodas.”

“You make it sound as if you don’t approve.” 

“Of Lospodas?” Geot shrugged. “I’m a merchant. It’s not my place to approve or disapprove of an institution that purchases my wares. I go where there’s money to be made. And while I’m there, I learn to abide by their rules. I’ve been to the Women’s Reservation, too. There’s lots of fine trading there, I can tell you; a least when Lospodas isn’t fucking it up by pulling one of their raids. The women there can get pretty testy after a raid.”

“I used to live there,” Mikki said. 

“So you know how it is.” 

They came to a door with a guard stationed in front of it. Geot nodded to the sentry then turned his attention back to Mikki as the guard opened the door for them. “Here we are,” he said. “This is what I wanted to show you.” 

Mikki hesitated then walked through the door. It led to another hall, with rooms and arches branching off from it; but there was a distinct change in the air that made it seem rather oppressive: something heavy, like the smell of sweat. It seemed a little warmer too. 

Her body filled with a sudden tension and fear.

She heard the sound of someone moaning and turned towards a dimly lit recess in the wall. Inside the small alcove Mikki found a woman. Her arms were bound behind her back by a thin elastic band at the elbows, and she was kneeling on a wedge of metal. Fat tears streamed from her eyes, and she squirmed and pulled at the small length of rope that connected her arm bindings to a metal ring in the floor. Her ankles were cuffed to rings in the floor. Another rope formed a slip knot around her waist, and trailed away to the far wall. With her arms being pulled towards the floor behind her, the stomach rope forced her back to arch, and prevented her from having any chance of getting her shins off the metal wedge. 

Mikki’s first urge was to help her, but Geot put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “You can’t,” he said. “Unless you want to take her place. It’s the law at Lospodas. Only the one who placed her here or one of his superiors can release her.”

Mikki reluctantly nodded her understanding. 

“I don’t approve of things like this,” Geot said, taking Mikki’s arm and gently pulling her away from the sight. “I don’t approve of rape or mutilation.”

“Why did you bring me here then,” Mikki asked.

He shrugged. “I wanted you to really understand what it could mean for you and your protector to get in trouble. This is only one of Lospodas’s punishment chambers. There are others. I could have taken you to the butcher house—some women are cooked alive and eaten as their punishment.”

“You needn’t have bothered with this,” Mikki said. “I already knew about it...”

They had come upon another woman who was bound, and Mikki stood transfixed, looking at her with fresh and remembered horror. 

The woman was kneeling on the floor. A leather strap encircled each leg, pressing ankle and thigh firmly together, but leaving each leg free of the other. She was leaning backwards against a small wooden prop. A thick leather strap secured her to it at the waist. Her arms were tied above her head in a thick cocoon of rope. Her labia had been wrapped around the shaft of a candle and were held in place by a long sliver of metal with a sharp point on both ends. It pierced her lips and went right through the center of the candle. 

As the candle had burned down, the wax had dripped directly down onto her clit and pubic mound. Now however, it had burned down until the hot wax had formed a little bowl. The flame itself was close enough to the woman’s flesh to cause a good deal of discomfort, and the hot wax heated the sides of the candle as well. As Mikki watched, the woman purposely rocked her hips so that some of the wax sloshed out of its bowl and dripped down over the lips of her cunt and her legs.

Mikki turned away, and saw another woman who was nearly hidden by the curve of the hall; and she walked forward, feeling pulled. 

This woman was balanced on the balls of her feet. Her wrists were connected to the collar around her throat by a very short length of rope. This prevented her from lowering her arms, and kept them bent, as if she were clasping her fingers together behind her neck. Her waist was cinched waspish thin by a wide corset that went from just above her pubic hair to just below her breasts. Between her legs there was a thin wire that was tightly stretched between two distant walls. The weight of her body forced the wire to bow ever so slightly. Her legs were tied together at the knees, so that she couldn’t simply swing her leg over the wire and free herself; but her ankles were free so that she could with effort, force herself to slide along the length of the wire. 

The woman inched her feet forward and, with a gasp of pain, rocked her body forward so that her torso slide a few millimeters further along the wire. 

Mikki gasped along with the woman. “Why is she doing that?”

“I suspect she’s been given the task of walking from one side of the room to the other,” Geot said. “See that button along the far wall. Only when she can manage to push that, will her fieflord come to release her. From the dried blood on her legs I would say she has been at it for a while now.” He reached out and touched the wire. “Her protector has chosen to use Prickly wire,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “Either she’s done something to make her protector very angry, or the poor creature is a Dungeon Girl.”

Mikki felt sick, but she couldn’t stop herself from moving closer to examine the wire. She reached out and touched it with her finger, testing the tension. Prickly wire didn’t have thorns as long as barbed wire—more like miniscule bits of sand embedded under a galvanized coating. Her finger slipped from the wire, and it began to hum with a deep vibration that made the woman gasp.

“Sorry,” Mikki said, placing her hand back on the wire until it had stopped vibrating. Then she turned back to Geot. “I can’t believe she’s actually trying to walk?” 

“If she’s being given food and water, it could take a very long time for her to die. And just standing above the wire is its own torture—quite unpleasant enough—better to make the effort, endure the increased pain and get it over with, don’t you think? ” 

“I think I’ve seen enough,” Mikki said. “Can we please leave now?”


5

The next morning, over breakfast, as Mikki watched Loreena violently spear one of the pieces of fruit in her bowl, she realized that Loreena might not be any happier about the new eating arrangements than she was. And this realization made her feel even guiltier about her temper tantrum from the day before. Loreena was purposely avoiding any eye contact; and it was obvious she hadn’t forgiven Mikki yet. Mikki couldn’t really blame her. If what Geot had said was true, then she had placed them both in danger. 

She thought about the strange man, and wondered if she would ever see him again. He was so unlike any of the other men Mikki had ever met. She couldn’t imagine any reason for him to lie, but she couldn’t help wondering. 

“Are you my protector?” Mikki asked.

Loreena looked at her in surprise. “Where did you hear a word like that?”

“I...ran into someone the other day and they asked me who my protector was. They said a protector was the person who was responsible for making sure a collar did what they were supposed to do.”

“A collar?”

In answer, Mikki flicked her fingers under her choker.

Loreena sighed. “I suppose I am. Why?”

“I did a lot of thinking yesterday after I left.”

“And?” 

“And I decided that I was a real bitch to you.” 

Loreena laughed; and the tension that had been in her face all morning seemed to melt away. “Well,” she said, spearing another slice of grapefruit, but this time it didn’t seem like such an act of aggression. “You may have been: just a little.” 

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry!” Mikki reached over and took Loreena’s hand. 

“It’s all right,” Loreena said. 

“And you don’t have to worry about me not going to the boutique. I’ll go and do whatever it is they want me to do.”

“Thank you,” Loreena said, with genuine relief; and she leaned across the table and hugged her sister.

Mikki was as good as her word. She dressed, got herself ready and asked Loreena to call for a guard to show her the way. Loreena smiled with mild embarrassment as she walked to the door and opened it. “Armald, would you please show Mikki to the boutique?”

He nodded, without answering, and then lead the way down the hall, leaving Mikki to close the door behind him. 


6

“Want to go with me to my acting class,” Fasznil asked Mikki, as she handed her a mop. 

Mikki looked over at the skinny little girl and smiled. Fasznil reminded her of BOOTZ NOar, so she’d liked her right away, and she was glad Fasznil seemed to like her too. “I’ll have to check in and let my sister know where I’m going.”

“We better hurry then,” Fasznil said. “When it’s my turn to clean this place I’m almost always a little late.”

Mikki smiled and headed towards the back rooms, sloshing her mop across the floor as she went. 

Working at the boutique had been a lot more fun than she’d though it would be. Fasznil had a lot to do with that, but she’d have fun even if her new friend hadn’t been placed in charge of her training. 

Armald, the guard, had escorted Mikki inside the boutique and introduced her to the manager: a tall, attractive woman with bright red hair and a ring through her labia. She wore a dark colored blouse that stood out against her pale skin, and a pair of heels—nothing more. 

“Hello Veesa,” Armald had said. 

The woman had looked up from her paperwork and given him a genuinely warm smile. “Hello, Armald,” she’d said in a deep throaty voice that he obviously responded to, and Mikki had wondered if she wasn’t the real reason he’d brought her all the way inside. 




“This is Mikki Manorin, your new girl.”

“I expected you yesterday!” Veesa’s eyes had suddenly become hard and frightening. 

“I’m sorry. I screwed up. It won’t happen again.”

Veesa’s expression had softened a little. “Just don’t make it a habit,” she’d told Mikki. “I need someone I can count on; and I don’t like being a rat. But it’s my ass that’s on the line if this place doesn’t run smoothly, so I’ll do whatever I have to to make sure it does. Understand.”

Mikki had nodded, then Veesa and Armald had exchanged a few more pleasantries. When he was finally gone, she had introduced Mikki to the rest of the workers, saving Fasznil for last. “I’m placing Fasznil in charge of your training, Mikki. Do what she says, and you and I will get along just fine.” 

The first thing Fasznil had done was to give Mikki a total makeover. She’d cut and colored Mikki’s hair, and given her a manicure. Then she’d shown Mikki how to apply makeup, and let her practice putting it on a few times. Fasznil was a talker, chattering away the whole time about what she was doing and why she was doing it; and Mikki was surprised to discover that she was actually interested. Perhaps Fasznil made it interesting, but she was beginning to think that working at the boutique would be more like play than actual work. 

“Finished yet?” Fasznil asked as she poked her head around the corner. 

“Almost,” Mikki said. “You stuck me with the bigger area.”

“Yeah, well… you’re the new girl. The new girl always gets the shit jobs.”



