 |
|||
|
|
Artemis spent the next three days being poked, prodded, groped, penetrated, slapped, and occasionally beaten or yanked, by a wide variety of strange men.
A bit before midday on her final day, two guards came to get her. Usually, only one guard came, but she was a known troublemaker.
"Well, what do you think we should do: force her to walk to the holding line, or carry her there?" asked the taller one.
"Force her to walk. No sense doing all the hard work for her. She kicked me, once, and I'd like to force her to follow me on a leash to show her her place," said the shorter one.
"She feels so good to hold, though."
"Perhaps we can both get what we want. I'll pull her along hard on a leash, you spank her ass to help her keep up, and whenever she falls, you get to touch her as much as you like until she gets up again. Deal?"
"Sure."
The shorter guard secured a 3-ft chain with a leather handle to the unfortunate wretch's collar. She squirmed around to try to make it harder for him to get the chain link into the collar's front attachment point, but the taller guard grabbed her from behind, reaching across her breasts to her shoulder with one arm, and around her hip to her crotch with the other. He held her still and played with her clitoris and vagina with his fingers. Leash secured, the taller guard moved to the front, again played with her crotch with one hand, but this time used his other to force her head forward and down. The shorter guard used this opportunity to attach a three-inch chain with a manacle on either end to the back attachment point of the dawlie's collar.
In 635 years of slavery, Artemis had never truly become used to the humiliation of being used for sex. If anything, it had become worse.
This was not uncommon. Of the elder slaves, many who had been easily broken when they were younger became more defiant, in one way or another, in their age. No doubt, she was several centuries this man's elder. If he had never had enough money to afford the immortality genetic modification, that made her over 600 years his senior, and her he was, using her, and all she could do was either squirm or try to stay still. Besides, after 635 years of being used for sex, it wasn't just painful and humiliating: it was downright boring. She wanted to read the latest scientific findings and engineering manuals, see the stars, the nebulae, and all the most beautiful planets, not spend centuries upon centuries gripped by steel, beaten by whips, paddles, canes, and bare hands, almost always naked and gawked upon, and seldom a day went by without the groping of hands on all the most personal parts of her body and a penis in her vagina, ass, and mouth, if not all three. She had learned that if she remained limp and expressionless, this would frustrate some masters even more than resistance. However, after what she had been through the past nine days and this morning, she was not in the mood to remain limp and expressionless. Actually, the ease with which the shorter guard was able to chain her up probably had less to do with the taller guard's ability to hold her skill, and more to do with the fact that all of her attention was focused on squirming her hips around to try to get away from the hand on her crotch. She would have done better to remain limp; the guard quite enjoyed the motion of her crotch against his hand.
Thus, she hardly noticed as the shorter guard removed one wrist at a time from the spreader bar and placed each one securely in a manacle behind her neck, and he was able to accomplish this quite easily.
When the shorter guard had completed this, the taller guard pusher her back. The edge of the display block came before her hips, pulled her ass up onto the edge of it, forcing her knees to bend a little. Holding her there, he held her left wrist, and with it her head, on the ground with his left hand, and proceeded to have vaginal sex with her. She tried to get away, to straighten her legs and abdomen onto the ground, away from the penis, but again, it did her no good, and only furthered his pleasure. In the meantime, the shorter guard managed to detach her ankles and get them into the anklets of a two-foot hobble, but with some difficulty, as the slave was struggling against his companion.
"Well, shall we do our job and get her to the holding line to await her auction, or would you prefer to spend the rest of the day with your penis inside her?" asked the shorter guard.
"We... don't... always... get... dawlies... this... exquisite," gasped the taller guard, struggling to speak as his pleasure increased.
"Just... let... me... finish."
The shorter guard waited several minutes until the taller guard had his orgasm, then without giving the dawlie a chance to recover from the intrusion, yanked her leash and proceeded to drag her along. Fortunately for her, the taller guard was taking a respite, so there was no one to grope her each time she fell. Still, the shorter guard did not relax his grip when she fell, and she was left suspended by the leash, leaving great strain on her neck and somewhat restricted breathing until she was able to stand up. He took her to an area behind the stage where row upon row of slaves were chained to long bars running alongside them. A quick loop of a chain attached to a bar through the bend in her left arm and a quick lock, and Artemis was secured in her place in line.
Soon, another guard came and gave her a thorough hosing down, leaving no sign she had been used for sex recently. This she did not mind.
Sure, the water was painfully cold, but she was humiliated more to be seen nude with semen dripping from her than to be seen merely nude.
For his part, Alrik spent all day reading, looking up each time a new number was called, and returning to his book when it was not Artemis's. For those interested, it was entitled, "De-tangling the Bureaucracy of Multiple Planetary Governments, Orbital confederations, and Asteroid Alliances when Bounty Hunting".
"SJG-000-755" cried the auctioneer. It was far shorter than the other numbers he had heard that day. Alrik remembered what the first three letters stood for. S - Solar system, J - the planet Jupiter, G - the moon Ganymede. 000 meant she had been enslaved in the year slavery was legalized. It must have been a shock. He realized he was attracted to a far older woman. 755 meant she was the 755th person to be enslaved on that moon on that year. If he recalled correctly, Ganymede was among the first to legalize slavery. Initially, Ganymede legalized only the enslavement of women, but that changed in 86 years.
Artemis was being pulled onto the stage by a very tall, maybe 6'10", muscular guard. Well, technically, she was hanging from a 2' spreader bar connecting her wrists, held by the guard, while swinging her legs, which were connected by a 4 1/2 foot spreader bar. She appeared to be trying to kick the guard, but every time she got close, a swat at her ass sent her dangling uncontrollably. This did not last long, though, before her arm spreader bar was attached to a hook above the auction block. Her body stiffened at that point. Alrik supposed that she knew, on some level, how beautiful she was when she writhed, and did not want to give the audience the satisfaction.
Artemis saw hundreds of eyes, telescopes, and binoculars all pointed at her, mostly at her crotch, which was quite easy to see with her legs so far apart. She tried to stare back at them, but they did not seem to notice. They never did.
Alrik did not listen to the sales pitch or to the bidding until it reached 300,000 drackal. He simply watched Artemis, as she hung stiffly, as she began to turn when the auctioneer prodded her with a long pole, as she began writhing in midair again, this time trying not to turn the way the auctioneer wanted her to. He saw a tear stream down her cheek. Alrik was surprised. He had not seen her cry before.
"Three hundred thousand!"
"The man in the purple robes bids three hundred thousand. Will anyone beat three hundred thousand for this fine breasted sex slave?"
"Three hundred twenty thousand!"
"Three hundred fifty thousand!"
"Four hundred thousand!" Alrik chimed in.
"Four hundred twenty thousand!"
"Four hundred eighty thousand!"
"Five hundred thousand!"
"The man in the grey suit bids five hundred thousand. She's a rare beauty. That deep jet black hair! That pale ivory skin! Those violet eyes! Those C-cup breasts on such a small chest! Those shapely hips! That round little ass! Will anyone beat five hundred thousand for such a treasure?"
"Six hundred thousand!" cried Alrik.
"Six hundred thousand from the man in black leather for the slave with eyes like amethysts. will anyone beat six hundred thousand?"
"Seven hundred thousand!" cried the man in the silk purple robes.
"Eight hundred thousand!"
The auctioneer was feeling quite pleased. As beautiful as she was, she was also defiant and had run away many times. He had only expected to get between five and six hundred thousand drackals for this one. These must be the sadistic bidders who would enjoy giving a feisty slave what she deserved. And they were going up increments of one hundred thousand! How wonderful!
"Eight hundred thousand from the man in the grey suit! A spirited sex slave like this one is sure to give many long hours of pleasure to the right master. See how she dances when I prod her! Will anyone beat eight hundred thousand?"
"Nine hundred thousand!" countered the man in the silk purple robes.
"One million!" cried Alrik.
Going from hundred thousands to the million range made Alrik's two counter bidders realize that they could get other beautiful, feisty female slaves to torture. Sure, the newly enslaved rarely stayed feisty for long, and it was difficult to find experienced feisty sex slaves, but they could find a better deal than this.
"The man in black leather bids one million for this beauty of beauties! Ignore the bruises, men, they'll heal in less than a week with her immortality modification! Will anyone beat one million?"
There was some whispering, but no one cried out.
"Sold to the man in black leather for one million drackals! And what a fine bid it was!"
The tall guard came back out and lifted her up again, preparing to take her to the holding cage for sold slaves in case Alrik wanted to bid some more. He signaled that he would prefer she be brought to a private cell so he could get her now. The guard nodded. Artemis hung limply, head bowed.
When Alrik arrived to the private cell area, a guard took his payment and directed him to the cell where his first slave ever was waiting for him, spreadeagled on the floor. The guard gave Alrik the code he would need to unlock the door from within, and closed it behind him.
"Please, my master, let me out of these spreader bars."
"Not until I change your collar." There was an ancient tradition, still law on nearly all the planets, moons, and asteroids, that a slave was technically free when a collar was removed, and not a slave again until the next collar was in place. The collar was changed each time a slave changed masters. Thus, if she successfully ran away during the collar change, or managed to defeat her would-be new master in non-lethal combat, she was thenceforth a free woman. However, there were very few places that still had laws that the slave must actually be unrestrained during the collar change, or that the slave must be armed equally to her new master, or that combat must be one on one, or any other law ensuring any sort of fairness. Few slave transactions were completed on worlds that still had such laws.
Alrik pulled a collar out of a large black leather messenger bag, held it in front of his new slave's face, and turned it so she could see it.
Artemis looked up at it. It was covered in black leather, but based on its thickness and the six, evenly-spaced u-bow attachment points (not flimsy d-rings, but thick, looping protrusions), made out of a silvery-grey metal, there was obviously metal inside. Above the front u-bow, there was a hole in the leather where a tiny egraving of Alrik's ship symbol, an Iris flower, stuk out, embedded with small purple gems. The inside of the collar was obviously padded. She was not surprised. A slave of her price often received custom made collars. The silver-grey metal - titanium from the look of it - indicated a concern that she not be able to break out of it. Titanium offered a relatively good balance between strength and non-brittleness compared to steel alloys. It was quite resistant to corrosion, and had an extremely high melting point. It was soluble in strong acids, but those would be dangerous to have near one's neck. As an added bonus, the strength to weight ratio was quite high. He obviously liked black leather: he was dressed in it. The decorative symbol probably indicated that he thought of her as some kind of trophy.
"It is your size. Titanium core. Real leather casing. Wool padding. The stones on the iris are amethysts, to match the color of your eyes."
Alrik moved to unlock her current steel collar.
"Wait, my master," said the slave woman, "please give me a fair chance. When you take off that collar, I will be a free woman, until you get the new one on."
Alrik sighed. "You know where you are. A fair chance is not required here on Altima Tres. I told you: you will have a chance to buy your freedom. Be grateful."
"I've already saved you nearly five million drackals, master. You only pain one million drackals for me."
"Sorry, that got me interested, but you don't get credit for earning five million drackals just because you repaired one dyner coil and replaced another."
"Something your own engineer apparently couldn't do!"
"And I saved you from having to be a trix again, or from having to be a personal dawlie for some sadistic nobleman or wealthy merchant. I'd say you got the better end of the bargain. Of course, if you cease to cooperate with me, I could change my mind."
The collar's hinge was slightly off-center in the front, not visible under the black leather except when opened. It locked in the back, again slightly off-center. No padlock was needed, as the lock was discreetly integrated into the collar, and could only be unlocked with a small key.
|
|
|