More Slaveworld fanfic. Comments and suggestions are more than welcome!
Peaches stood in front of the assembled officers and Ministers, naked except for her neat cuffs and the hobble chain that connected her high heels together, forcing her to take tiny, careful steps. Her ball gag rested on her drool-covered breasts.
‘World 794 was examined by the original Franklin team during the early days of their project and they marked it down as a possible destination for examination. When the team arrived they took these pictures’ – Peaches tensed her pussy muscles, and the slideshow behind her skipped on one image, to sow a photo of an uninterrupted stretch of green forest leading away into the distance. She squeezed two more times and two more, almost indistinguishable pictures skipped by.
‘Can we see those again please?
Peaches sighed inside and did as she was ordered. The control to move back through the slides she’d prepared was in her asshole and she knew the man who’d asked to see them just wanted to humiliate her. She didn’t dispute his right to do it – she was a sex slave, it was what she was for – but she was tired and having trouble getting through the presentation. Why couldn’t they do the spook’s job properly, she wondered? They all treated it like a game, and wandered away from it at the slightest distraction. And there was always a naked, bound, helpless and willing slave-girl in the room, so distraction was easy to come by!
Peaches skipped back two pictures and showed the forest scenes again, this time more slowly, and then moved on to the later Franklin images.
‘What’s that?’ Asked Colonel Ewing, in his calm, professional voice.
‘That’s one of their launching towers, Master.’ Peaches responded to her owner and then to the rest of the room, ‘The culture on this planet seem to have perfected interplanetary travel. We don’t know for sure, because the original Franklin expedition was underfunded and hasty and their researches were only preliminary, but the hopes we have are that we could either use their technology here or piggyback on their expeditions, depending on what their culture is like.’
As she spoke, her voice echoing slightly in the cavernous, wood-lined room, Peaches listened to her own unfamiliar voice. She had barely spoken at all since coming to this new world of hers, so her own voice was a little strange to her and of course, it had changed since her old life. Now her voice was high and husky, the way the Prince – her first owner – had liked it. Colonel Ewing hadn’t changed it, a simple matter on Slaveworld, so she still sounded the way His Highness had chosen for her. Peaches felt herself becoming very aware of the strangeness of her situation, naked and helplessly bound in front of a room full of much older strangers, every single one of whom had used her for sex. She squeezed the dildo strapped inside her that made the images skip forward, feeling the familiar lust and excitement calm her mind as she spoke on.
‘The Franklin team made contact, went through, came back and that was that-‘ Peaches paused to squeeze the ‘forward’ button one more time , ending the presentation on the image that showed a launch, most of the view obscured by white glare but a vessel of some kind clearly visible – ‘so we know as much as they did, now.’
‘Good slut,’ Colonel Ewing told her casually. Peaches couldn’t help herself; she glowed with pride!
Colonel Ewing clicked his fingers and she rushed over to kneel at his feet, gazing up at his craggy face with a mixture of lust and adoration. Of course, Peaches would have done anything she was ordered to anyway: she had been trained by the best, after all. But she would have done anything to please Colonel Ewing, just to please him. And she knew he knew it, and that he just accepted it as a sign of a well-trained slave. Peaches was amazed at the strength of her feelings for this crusty old man – Colonel Ewing was twice her ‘old’ age, and three times her ‘new’ age, since her new body was only 18 – and would be for a long time, she guessed, with the Slaveworld’s longevity treatments. Colonel Ewing looked sixty and was more likely to be over a hundred. Peaches didn’t know: he hadn’t told her, and she wasn’t often in a position to ask, she reflected as her owner’s fingers buckled her ball-gag back into place.
In the meeting that followed, Peaches played a part – she was allowed to help the serving slaves hand out coffees and pastries, and endured their hatefilled stares with equinamity. They hated her because she had higher status than they did, belonging to an individual rather than just being part of the general pool of slaves. Most of them didn’t even have names! But Peaches didn’t care, She was thinking about what part, if any, she was to play in the xxxx mission and, of course, trying to make her every movement, sound and action so fuckable that Colonel would decide to use her!
Peaches had to wait several days – unbearably long, in her opinion – to find out either thing. Colonel Ewing had her transferred to the mission HQ’s slaveblock, where she began courses of exercise and injections – no-one explained anything to her, of course, they just tied her to machines or injected her – and after a couple of days, a foreign language course for a few hours a day.
After four weeks of learning the unpronounceable speech up to six hours a day, Peaches was finally given a real understanding of what the mission was to be. She was led into a small room with a one-way glass front, a standard interview room, and her lead clipped to the steel ring in the centre of the floor that was provided for just such a purpose. The trooper holding her lead gave her a quick, familiar calming grope and left her to her unknown fate.
Peaches had thought that being a slave would be a highly organised, structured existence, but the truth was completely the opposite. She had no idea of what was coming next most days. No-one told her anything, and the people who owned her changed their minds and plans all the time. She knelt, her arms zipped into a sleeve behind her, breathing slowly and carefully around her ball-gag, her corset squeezing her in two and making her even more aware of the butt-plug and dildo strapped inside her. Her breasts were uncovered, only a short length of chain connected them, and her crotch-chain didn’t leave much to the imagination. She looked like what she was: a human being trained, taught, dressed – packaged! – to be a sex toy. Peaches felt herself starting to drool on her boobs and her pussy get wetter at the humiliation. She sometimes wondered when slavery had become real for her.
Was it the first time she was whipped until she begged for mercy – and then more? The first time she was fucked unconscious? Peaches had chosen slavery but she had been forced to do a lot of things as a slave she never would have chosen if she had been free to say no. Had she faced up to being a slave the first time she was led out in public, naked, helpless, striped with whip marks and drying semen, or the first time she was used for sex by a total stranger she’d never seen before? Peaches bucked her hips involuntarily, trying to get a little more stimulation from her crotch chain, as she thought back over her months of servitude…
Jem walked through the corridors of this strange new world, his eyes checking off the many, many ways in which these people were inferior to his own. The primitive forms of air conditioning they used, so complex and so backward at the same time, the building materials that created a harsh, uncomfortable squareish appearance in all the forms around him, even at their most stony and stylish; the transport… well, he pondered, thinking back over the journey here, remembering the twinned team of pony-girls trotting in the afternoon drizzle, their matching latex catsuits shining in the spring sunshine as they pulled the small carriage along the landscaped, scenic park to the slave-block where he was due to begin his training. The transport might actually be better than back home!
Jem walked in behind his host, a Leuitenant in the Household Guard, which meant a high rank disguised as a low one, he’d had it carefully explained to him: the man had little command within his own organization but huge prestige and power outside of it, and good prospects, with a future of rulership awaiting him. Leuitenant Wesley showed Jem into the room, and Jem’s eyes jumped.
No matter how often he’d seen naked people, helpless and totally available, since he’d accepted the strange bargain with the oddly-dressed woman who’d approached him in the forest outside his lab, he’d never really got used to it. Even though he’d been allowed to play with a few, both boys and girls, the surprise, and the thrill, hadn’t worn off.
The girl kneeling in the middle of the room, drooling around her ballgag and breathing audibly, her eyes glazed, was maybe the most attractive sexual plaything he’d had the pleasure of meeting so far. He ran his eye over her appraisingly, taking in her blonde hair, the wide, bright blue eyes, and her full lips stretched wide around the big, mouth-filling red ball strapped firmly behind her perfect teeth.
Lt. Wesley waited politely for a few seconds, and then cleared his throat.
‘Technician Barres, please meet Peaches. Peaches, this is Technician Barres. You remember discussing World 794 in planning, Peaches?’
‘Well, Technician Barres is from there, and he’s going to be teaching you about how to fit in there.’
Peaches nodded again, understanding showing in her eyes.
‘Technician Barres, you’ll be teaching Peaches about how to behave and fit in on your planet, languages and so on but manners, etiquette, all those things, too. Of course, you’ll have access to her during working hours and afterwards if you want, and she’ll be yours to do with as you like as long as your lessons produce good results. She speaks some Melaran but the more she learns the better…’
Jem nodded, his eyes locked on the helpless, naked girl, as the Leuitenant talked on. He felt he would have no problem remembering the speech – his training in mneomincs would allow him to recall the spoken material at a later date without consciously listening to it now. In the meantime, he drank in the pretty toy, her eyes submissively lowered, trembling before him as she was given to him to teach and to play with.
As soon as Lt. Wesley left the room, Jem crossed the floor to Peaches and touched her head, stroking her hair and feeling her shiver as he ran his fingers through the soft blonde locks. Peaches gasped audibly at his touch, and he felt the girl shiver as he ran his fingers slowly down her back, squeezing her ass gently at first, then running a single finger slowly down along her crotch chain, finding the base of her buttplug and slowly moving it, stirring the pretty toy’s insides, his eyes inches from hers. Jem could see the delicious creature’s eyes widen as her excitement increased. He’d had the basics of the slave-owner relationship explained to him, and he knew in theory that every save he played with wanted desperately to please him, and that all their cries and shrieks of pleasure were utterly genuine. But he still liked to check, and there was no way this response was fake. She was positively desperate to be fucked!
Jem could feel his cock rising in his pants, and debated whether to fuck the girl now or not. He may as well, he decided. Then he’d be relaxed, able to concentrate better on teaching her. Jem stroked Peaches’ face, and pulled her ass into the air by her crotch-chain, forcing a cry from the bound plaything. He carefully examined the clasp that held her buttplug in place, then unclipped it and slipped the pear-shaped plug out of her anus. Peaches gasped, and Jem felt his cock straining against his trousers. He put the plug down on its base, and unceremoniously entered Peaches’ asshole, feeling the tight ring slide down his throbbing cock. Peaches wailed behind her gag, pushing back against Jem: joining in! He grinned happily, grabbed her head by a handful of hair and pulled hard, arching her back and pushing himself as deep as he could into her. He could feel the gorgeous girl’s dildo, still stuffing her pussy, and the tight corset squeezing her tight; but he could feel her deliberately tightening her asshole around him too, doing everything she could to make herself a more enjoyable screw…
Jem felt himself getting ready to orgasm and pulled harder on the sex-toy’s hair, treating it like reins and arching the girl’s back cruelly as her asshole quivered around his cock. The though of whether she was coming or just being a good slave flashed across his mind as he began to come himself, his moans merging with the gag-muffled gasps, squeaks and cries of his helpless sex-toy as he came.
Jem gasped, slipped his cock out of Peaches’ asshole and wiped the remaining cum off his cock on her ass cheek, and gave her a casual slap as he got his breath back. Peaches was gasping still, her gag, corset and her new acquaintance’s casually rough fucking conspiring to leave her literally breathless. Jem chuckled to himself. She was amazing – he was going to have so much fun teaching her!
Peaches found her usual erotic daydreams interrupted by sound of the door, and checked herself to make sure she was in position as the door swung back. Her eyes remained submissively lowered but she could see two people’s feet and recognise Lt. Wesley’s voice. Although Peaches had no choice about who used her and no-one ever asked her how she felt, she had a bit of a thing for Lt. Wesley. When he spoke to her she kept her eyes locked on his, nodding when he asked her a question, never even glancing at the man he had brought in with him until he introduced her to her ‘teacher.’
Peaches looked over the man quickly, seeing someone not much more than a boy, his hair cut into a strange pageboy style and his eyes shifty somehow. He wasn’t very attractive, but then he didn’t need to be; he just needed to be holding her lead!
She saw the look on his face, and knew that her first introduction to him would be learning how he liked to fuck her. Despite – or because of – the humiliation of that realisation, Peaches felt her heart beating faster, a heat between her legs getting hotter as she concentrated on making sure she was holding her position properly. She was so distracted she didn’t even hear Lt. Wesley leave the room!
Peaches knelt, her view limited to her user’s legs and feet as he caressed her head, stroking her hair in a proprietary way, and then feeling his hands running slowly over her helpless, bound body! She suppressed a whimper of lust and shivered, knowing that Technician Barres could feel her body shaking for him and hoping that he would be excited by it. Yes, he was a stranger, yes, he would be at best inconsiderate, and at worst calculatingly sadistic and cruel, and yes, he no doubt saw her as nothing more than a sex toy; Peaches didn’t care. She just wanted him to fuck her!
When she felt her user’s fingers straying down the crack of her ass, Peaches held her breath, trying to prepare herself for disappointment. She knew he could just be teasing her, and slaves who whined when the promise of sex was withdrawn were whipped or worse. She had to be ready to be eager to please by obeying her user! But she wasn’t disappointed. He slid her buttplug out of her, and pushed his cock into her asshole, making her gasp and writhe in her bonds. His hand in her hair, cruelly arching her back, just made her hotter, and she felt herself spill over the edge into orgasm as he cam inside her, his hot cum splashing into her back passage.
Gasping her way back to consciousness, every breath a struggle thanks to her tight corset and mouth-filling ball gag, Peaches felt Technician Barres wiping his cock clean on her ass and then the tip of her buttplug reentered her. She closed her eyes; that meant spending the whole of the rest of the day, until someone decided it was time she was washed, with Technician Barres’ semen queasily sliding around inside her and running out around her buttplug. Plus, it meant an added layer of humiliation and an added layer of sexual torment, as if being stuffed with buttplug and dildo wasn’t enough teasing, or enough humiliation!
Peaches struggled back to her everyday background state, of curiosity, fear and lust intertwined. As usual when she’d just been allowed to come, she was just lightly less fearful and slightly less desperate to be fucked than usual, so she could think just a little clearer. But soon, her new user was taking up all her attention again!
Over the next few weeks, Peaches actually spent some time talking with Technician Barres – Jem, as she’d come to think of him. It was amazing, she thought, how people could just take things as they found them. Jem seemed to have no problem becoming genuine friends with her on one hand – they soon developed an us-against-them mentality, sharing meaningless secrets and even developing jokes and catchphrases. Peaches was conflicted. Did she, a sex slave, really have a friend? On the other hand, Jem never missed a chance to use her sexually, and she never saw him without being fucked. He was even getting more like a Slaveworld owner would be, more dominant and less desperate, more teasing and less urgent; more cruel and less rough, she thought. He clearly enjoyed humiliating her and sometimes the boundaries between the two would be blurred. She would be naked and spread-eagled, her pussy covered in candlewax, her bound breasts gradually filling up with sharp little pins, and having a conversation with her tormentor around her ring-gag – until he decided to fuck her face again. It was very strange, and Peaches couldn’t decide whether she liked it or not - though of course, that wouldn’t make any difference, she knew!
In late Spring, when she and Technician Barres had been spending all of most days and a lot of nights together for two months or more, Peaches was walking with him in the gardens of the buildings set aside for the Gate project, beautiful old stone structures which owed a lot to their classical heritage. She was dressed (which was unusual in itself) in a on-piece purple-black suit, skin-tight and shiny, that ended at wrists and calves, and over it a little jacket in see-through pink plastic with big pink plastic buttons. Apparently it was all the rage on Melara and she had to learn to fit in. She wore Slaveworld running slippers, small, soft and neat, and a collar; Jem held her lead and her wrists were cuffed behind her, but otherwise she was interchangeable with millions of girls her age on his home world, he assured her.
‘Well, apart from one or two things,’ he said with a smile, casually cupping her breast. Peaches leaned into his hand, moaning and biting her lip. The more she knew Jem the more sure she was that she would never have chosen him to be her lover if she’d been free, but that was what he was, somehow. It was weird! Peaches sighed as Jem squeezed her boobs, a happy smile on his face as he felt their weight, gave each of them a stinging slap, and walked on, leading a trembling, lust-drunk Peaches behind him
Their conversations were almost all in Melaran now, and Peaches knew she could speak the language so well that she and Jem could have private conversations in front of senior members of the Slaveworld espionage team with total impunity. Younger people spoke a slang within a slang, Jem had told her, and once she had learned it she found it easier all the time. You still needed to be able to speak Melaran proper, but if someone your own age spoke to you in Lunons and you couldn’t answer it would look incredibly suspicious.
In the time since, though, Jem had divided his time between the mission he was supposed to have, teaching Peaches her ‘kid slang’ and practicing it with her, and, of course, putting her to every sexual use he could imagine. Peaches found herself conflicted. She knew she was Colonel Ewing’s property, and it was wring of her to feel loyalty to anyone else, but she als knew in another part of herself that Colonel Ewing didn’t care about her and she was convinced that Jem did. She thought that Colonel Ewing must have given her to Jem for a reason, though. Maybe feeling the way she did was OK? She couldn’t talk to her trainers about it, and she couldn’t talk to Jem, of course, because she knew what he would say, and besides, how would he understand? How could he? And of course, she couldn’t talk to Colonel Ewing – she never saw him anyway, not any more. So poor Peaches had to figure it all out herself!
Jem led her on to a park bench, and casually pushed her to her knees and undid his flies. Peaches smiled up at him, feeling her slave training kick in on top of the huge doses of aphrodisiac flowing through her bloodstream. She knew she would simply be given Jem’s cock to suck, right here in public on this jogging path, as aristocrats passed by them idly, chatting about tennis or the weather, with their own helpless slaves on leads behind them. She knew she shouldn’t be excited by the prospect, but she undeniably was!
Peaches swayed forward at the waist to take Jem’s cock into her mouth, her eyes on his, smiling around his shaft as she touched him with her tongue. Teasing him! For the first time she was allowed to tease her user, to participate in more ways than just try to be as obedient, desperate and responsive as she could. And she loved it!