Sex with the repulsive Jurong. It occurs to me this might all be a trick – he might walk out of here, never having intended to save me, and I’d never see him again. The ultimate humiliation. I’d have given him myself, as though we were lovers, for nothing.
“And if I refuse?” I ask.
“You won’t, unless you’re a fool. But if remaining here looks better than a life with me… Why, your consent doesn’t matter, does it?”
So that’s it. Give myself to Jurong, or be raped by Jurong. He’s not the first since my enslavement to say “treat me nice, and I’ll buy you”. But with those men and Jurong I would be a fool to refuse. Any chance of leaving the Hub and returning to some form of life inside the Republic is better than my existence here.
“Lie back on the bed, please, my dear Master, Jurong” I say, trying to hide my revulsion and make my voice sound tender, and when he complies, I straddle him, reaching for the knot fastening of my wrap.
And then, for the first time, I screw someone for my life.
12 – Relocation.
After an hour play acting like the regular girlfriend, once I’ve kissed him goodbye and he’s gone, I think I’ve probably been conned like I was with the others, and I hate myself. But then a couple of shifts after my encounter, I’m abruptly released from my duties in the display cages out front, and I’m escorted inside. There’s a small room at the back of the brothel that functions as Jabal’s office, and to there I am taken.
“Coora – that gadget there is to go tightly around your neck,” my owner commands gruffly, throwing a large metal ring the diameter of my throat onto the desk. “And that…” and another jumble of metalwork goes onto the desk with a clatter, “is for covering your cunt.”
I pick up the collar, bemused. It looks like the shock device that was locked onto me when I was first captured, but this one has a taller band, and writing on it.
“Sold: Do not use”, it says.
I look at Jabal, my heart suddenly racing. Does this mean?
“Hurry up, put it on,” he snaps, and I quickly snap the collar around my neck. I push it as far as it will go, and hear the lock activate with an instant click.
I haven’t worn the other device before, but I know what it is. In a brothel, there’s not normally a reason to lock sex slaves into chastity belts. I step into the metalwork, pulling it up to my core as though I’m putting on panties. At the back, there is a small opening that will rest on my anus – large enough to void solids through, but not big enough for a penis to penetrate. A tiny slit at the front permits urination. I pull it up into place and discover the rear band sits deep between my buttocks, and is quite uncomfortable. I’m not sure what I think of this thing. The belt will be difficult to clean, and unhygienic if I have to wear it for long. But then it does prevent me being used. At one time I would have considered this thing demeaning, obscene, but Gods, now it feels good to have something protecting my vulva.
I push the fittings closed, and hear a lock click on the belt, too.
“A client has taken a fancy to you,” says Jabal, disapproving. “It happens, sometimes, with the offworlders – they fixate on one slave. The Slavers know this is a mistake,” (his tone turns smug). “This never happens with us. We understand the truth, that the value of a female is measured only in her desirability, and the next fresh slave, who is therefore more desirable, is always on the way.” “
Jabal gives me a moment to consider his wisdom. Then he indicates the small window, the one looking through to the club’s lounge, and then out onto the Mezzanine.
“For example, look out there, Coora.”
I obey.
“The next Coora has probably already walked through there, and is training on the surface.”
I could think of replies to this, but before I have a chance, the belt begins buzzing softly – the source of the vibration coming from a spot pressing right against my clitoris.
“Oh!” I cry, and pull at the metal band covering my core, but it’s too tight to budge.
Warm liquid pleasure spills out through my lower body. I feel myself starting to become aroused.
“But the obsessions of clients make good business for us, so we don’t argue when the offworlders form their attachments,” Jabal continues, ignoring my embarrassed surprise. “He has paid well over your value, to secure you. You’ll be pleased to know you have been a profitable purchase for the house.”
After perhaps thirty seconds of intense vibration, by which time I’m getting quite turned on and my legs are starting to tremble, the buzzing stops, as abruptly as it began. Frustrated, I push the alloy against my sex, wanting the pleasure back.
“Who paid for me, Master?” I then ask humbly. Jurong – it must be Jurong. It would be too much of a coincidence otherwise.
“Like to know, wouldn’t you?” he smiles with a flash of the familiar cruelty.
“The client will return to collect you in three days. During your wait, he has specified you are not to be used to provide sexual services.”
No sexual services… Does that mean? Oh, Gods be praised. I go weak with relief. The end of my suffering is in sight. I might have already had sex for the last time on Aghara-Penthay.
“The belt will prevent other men from raping you. During your waking hours, it will arouse you for thirty seconds out of every two minutes. It will activate more discretely during the night – you’re in for some very erotic dreams, Coora. I promise you, when your new master collects you, he’ll find his slave very desperate to please.”
I push again at the alloy against my core. So how long have I got before it fires again? Less than a minute? I know better than to object – Jabal has said nothing to indicate I can’t be punished for the next three days, if I show any sign of rebellion. It will just have to be endured.
“As you please, Master.”
“You can still be of some use, until your owner comes. You will serve food and drinks to clients. You will wait out front, and when males take an interest in a Dystyr, direct them to use Illonya.”
“As you please, Master.”
“You will share my bed at nights. There are ways to enjoy a woman without penetrating the usual holes. Especially if she’s so turned-on that she’s going half-crazy.”
I repress a shudder at the prospect of feeling Jabal’s hands mauling me. But show dislike, and I will only make it more enjoyable for him.
“As you please, Ma… Oh!”
The buzzing against my sex returns, without warning. And it feels good. I feel my face glow with the flush of arousal. I push at the alloy, trying to maneuver it against the most pleasurable protrusion of my flesh. I’m wondering whether, if I’m prepared and pre-excited, tonight if there’s a moment alone I might bring myself to orgasm, from just thirty seconds of stimulation.
Jabal watches me, smiling knowingly. The room is silent for a moment, save for the soft buzz of the belt and the ever present sound of the Hub’s atmosphere processors. Again the vibration vanishes, just as it was getting really interesting. I poke and prod at the belt, irritated.
“Quite something, isn’t it?” Jabal says wryly. “Well, you’re dismissed, for now, Coora. Go and help the others.”
I stumble out into the main area of the brothel, my heart pounding. Around my neck is a collar which says Sold: Do not use. A chastity belt inhibits access to my sex organs.
A large central lounge area forms the main room of the Flower Garden. The front is open to the Mezzanine, which it is easy to think of as “outside”, although of course we remain enclosed on the vast orbital station of The Hub. Doors lead from the lounge into the bedrooms, and the functional spaces of the brothel. Against one wall of the lounge – actually one of the major bulkheads securing the station’s integrity, is the bar. Here Myrune – one of the Gaianesian women, sits talking with a potential customer. Her red slave wrap does not adequately cover her.
A group of males walks past the front of the brothel. They are loud, brutish, drunk. They laugh at the woman currently filling the wall. I cannot tell who she is, being only able to view her naked rear.
All this, I only have to endure for a couple of days. It makes it so much easier to bear, knowing the scene around me is no longer my future. I am destined for what? Jurong? The Rainbow Galaxy? He wouldn’t have been my choice, but I’ll take him over…
Godsdammit!
Once more the belt fires up without warning, and I double over, clutching at my crotch. It seems that each time it fires, the effect of the stimulation on me seems to get more intense. And this is after just a few activations. How will I feel after hours of this?
I’m already wondering – who ordered the vibrating belt? Was it Jurong? He would likely want me to be more interested in him, sexually. Well, his plan will inevitably succeed if the intensity continues to ramp like this. Unwanted, the memory of feeling Jurong’s clammy hands on my naked body returns. Eurghh! I push it away, then try to accept it. Better Jurong’s hands from within the Republic, than the many others who have had their hands on me on Aghara-Penthay.
Myrune’s eyes take in the view of me, with my strange collar, doubled over clutching my groin. And then the vibration is gone. I move behind the bar, and feigning nonchalance I begin mopping ethanol spirits with a dirty rag.
“Ain’t you something?” Myrune’s companion says to me, leering crudely. He’s a human – older, unshaven for several days and rank from his own body odor. “They kept you hidden in the back. How much is an hour inside your snatch?”
“I’m not for sale, Master,” I say, indicating the collar. I’m careful not to sound disrespectfully smug about this fact.
“Well, I’ll just have to take it out on your friend, then,” he says testily, and turns back to Myrune. “How much for your pretty ass?”
The rest of my afternoon comprises of encounters much like this. A large group of males on a pre-wedding party chooses us as their favorite establishment, and almost all the girls of the house are kept busy entertaining them. There’s so much demand for women to serve in the bedrooms that even today’s girl in the wall – Hoola, another of the Gaianesians, is brought back into service. But I still remain unused. My relief is almost unbearable. Even with the repeating torment from the belt, this is my least miserable day since capture. I’ve been equipped with a mental shield which protects me from everything. This is temporary. This is temporary. That’s the mantra I keep repeating. Soon, I’ll be in the Republic. Implanted, but free. I will see the Rainbow Galaxy.
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