Sarah Becomes a Kajira News: The next voluminous installment of this ongoing saga is about to be uploaded...
Sarah Becomes a Kajira Abstract
This account details the training, self-discovery, and graduation of Sarah Conrad, a teenager from the Outlands of Earth just after it was terraformed during the Rapture Campaign of 2012-2013. This story picks up where Sarah and the Rapture Campaign left off; just after Sarah was escorted into one of the subterranean gateways to Inisfree.
Thread Leader posts will be in this gray color.
Sarah will have her posts colored light purple, not quite pink.
Sarah Becomes a Kajira
Chapter 1: Sarah Meets the King
The transparency of the deep underground room Sarah had been led to was now fading... It became translucent... and finally opaque. She had been shown a glimpse of the sky-high city so far above her, and she would be able to surmise that this was wise Inisfreean foreshadowing; that her Masters here had already somehow determined whether or not she would earn her place up there one day --it didn't feel like a trick or tease, at least. For now, though, the hexagonal formation of them had faded away just as her temporarily granted ability to see through her current chamber's walls and ceiling had. Sarah was alone. Between the curving white-and-gold walls of one of the sections of tunneling many stories beneath the grounds of her new home-city, she had been left to regain control of her body, rise to her feet, and get used to the new feelings coursing through her perfected form.
The tunnel she had been left in was well-lit, its sides rounded all the way up and over their ceiling sections; a horizontal tube with the exception of its flat floor. Naked, where her heels, ass, palms, thumbs, and fingertips met its surface, she would notice its unique texture; one which seemed to respond, ever so subtly, to how she was attempting to move. Each time Sarah shifted her weight and made ready to change positions, the traction which would best serve her would come into being. When she no longer needed such a stable grip, the floor would return to a smoother, more polished tile-like state.
Behind her, the portal through which the six Inisfreean girls had marched her prone, floating form, she would see that the way was now blocked, the portal once again closed and as solid and featureless as the walls around her. There was no doorknob, handle, or other lever or means to re-open or otherwise operate the seal blocking the passage, and it would feel as sturdy as the thick, circular door to a bank vault, unmoving regardless of how she might test or strike it. As with her Outland habitat which had been leveled and restored to nature, and her biological family whom she had both evolved and been liberated from, in this tunnel there was no going back. Sarah had been set upon a brand new bearing in life, her old one and those in it shed and cast aside like snake skin, never to be donned again.
In the other direction, back ahead of her, however, the way was wide open and began to curve around to the side, the next leg of her underground journey bending out of her line of sight. The entire way was of this material almost gleaming a soft and aetherial white, like ivory and white marble mixed together and gently set aglow somewhere from within, and amidst this heavenly white surface of the curving walls and ceiling of her tunnel route were inlaid swirls of the finest gold, unblemished as if anodized, completely flush with their surrounding white areas, and as smooth to the touch as if in a dream. Sarah was now standing in the sewers and cave network of Inisfree, and it was plain to see that endless riches were a common theme in this city, for even its least frequented of facilities were angelic and paved extensively with pure gold.
What's more was that this sewer system had no waste in it of any kind... until Sarah had the sinking realization that these snaking tunnels contained only one questionable item; her. The symbolism was undeniable; she, though hand-picked from billions of Outlanders, had still yet to prove herself worthy of being collared and walked atop the surface-side streets of Inisfree. She, Sarah Conrad, had not been led through this city's towering gates of the gods, but in through a hidden shipyard hangar to what literally amounted to its bowels. In Inisfree, you see, waste was not generated and channeled to flow down and out; instead, what was once waste from the Outlands (i.e. humans) was channeled to flow in and up, passing through a succession of filters as it was cleansed, educated, inspected, and graduated, making it desirable inside and out, worthy of the longest, most enjoyable of lives... and the one Inisfreean man who would most enjoy it --who would most enjoy Her.
With the tunnel remaining open and empty up in front of her, in more ways than one Sarah had a long way to go... and all of Inisfree, the city she had just seen the dream-like hintings of, and its immortal King, were waiting... for better or for worse.
Sarah Continues into Inisfree:
One by one, every muscle was once more given its ability to move. This was not the slow and harsh awakening from drug induced poisoning but the relaxed yoga like self realization and awareness. She could not tell where exactly this awakening began, with her fingers or her toes, as it felt as though all of her was coming to life at once, serenely, softly, beautifully. It was a most pleasurable, seductive and orgasmic feeling that pulsed through her veins, tickled every nerve ending and beat within her very heart and soul. She almost wished it could last forever, but her desire to investigate the world around her called her more fervently to move than to be still basking in this delicious awakening.
Movement was just as blissful, if not more so, than lying still. She found that as her body shifted, so too would the ground seem to shift as if she and the world had suddenly become one being. When she rose, the floor seemed to lift and roll with her to her feet and yet she could not visibly see such motion taking place. Several times did she lay down, to press her soft pale flesh against the flat bottom of her gilded cage, to writhe and sway upon it with pleasure only to slowly and methodically raise to her feet as if creating a dance; A dance for the new world and her newly awakened self.
Turning her dark brown head to gaze over the soft hill of her shoulder, her emerald and amber hues regarded the sealed portal with curiosity. The spartan warrior girls had left her alone within this beautiful prism of light, color and sensation. They did not return for her, nor did they answer when she called out to them. She did not call out in fear or loneliness, for she could feel the safety of this place and the closeness of the girls as surely as she could feel the tingling of her pussy between her milky white thighs. They watched, they listened, they waited...or so it seemed to be to Sarah.
There was only one way open to her now, that of the tunnel that curved out of her line of sight, beckoning her to a future that she could not fathom. Perhaps the spartan girls were waiting beyond the horizon for her? perhaps this was a test of her bravery, to see if she could accept what they had to offer? Quietly, she pressed off the surface of the portal letting her hands drape softly at the flares of her hips, her fingertips brushing against her outer thighs exciting her in a manner she had never noticed before. The simple act of being able to be naked within this cylindrical cage was arousing to her, exciting, puckering pink nipples upon her white, soft, pendant breasts. She stood straighter, her gait more feminine and elegant as she became aware of herself not only as a wholly healthy and intelligent person but also as undeniably female.
There was a sort of pride being fostered within her, for above all others, she had been chosen to be brought here. It was she who they had deemed beautiful enough to take into the beloved city of unimaginable pleasure and peace. True, she knew deep down that she was still the lowliest of girls within this city, perhaps nothing more than a pretty beast they had brought home out of pity. But they had chosen her. They had welcomed her. She had survived the first set of trials.
Kissing the soft of her palm to the smooth gold inlaid wall, she walked towards the softly yawning mouth of the tunnel. Her head tilting, spilling her dark tresses down along her chest as she sought the end of this marvelous space with great anticipation and curiosity. Eager to prove herself, eager to face the next set of challenges and earn the right to experience more of this spell binding happiness and delight that so swelled within her. Deeper into the tunnel she walked, waiting to see what her captors next tests would be.
Entering the Arena:
The well lit tunnel of white and gold had curved around that corner up in front of her and continued on through a series of sections which looked like they were hubs at present blocking all cross traffic and getting the little Outlander girl used to the idea of being steered however the Inisfreeans pleased. Sarah was correct in her feelings that her Inisfreean Masters were watching her, and that it was in a loving way while she was allowed to explore, little by little, increasingly larger and more majestic portions of her safe training environment --safe except for the ever-present possibility of being slapped, shoved, whipped, caged, or otherwise disciplined, that is, of course.
After more than a mile of walking through the tunnel network and along its only route made available to her, she found that it terminated in the circular opening yawning farther out and up into a gladiatorial arena modeled after the Vatican of Rome (most notably for its architectural wonder, St. Peter's Basilica) fused with that city's Coliseum. The floor was no longer the 'smart'-surface; that reactive and proactive material which looked like marble tiles and gold swirls, yet behaved more like the firm grip of a helpful friend. Now, instead, she would step out of the circular end of the tunnel network and down onto the gray-brown, fine sand-and-dirt, powdery, almost moon-dust-like layer of ground particles covering the underground arena's vast floor.
With so many Greco-Roman pillars, walls, overturned blocks, other obstacles, and complementary constructs filling this cavernous chamber however many stories beneath the surface of Inisfree, it was difficult for an untrained eye such as hers to estimate its dimensions, but they were substantial; there was no doubting that. This chamber of the Inisfreean underground was big enough to host a small airshow, and it was clear from the concentric beige rings serving as both steps and riser-style stands all the way up from the rim of the central pit to near the ceiling edge at the top of the outermost wall... that this room was part of a complex designed to seat tens of thousands --perhaps even millions-- of spectators for some VERY large and complicated games of brutal and even mortal combat between pitted pairs and teams.
Once Sarah had had time to take in all that vast sight and what it implied, she would then see one of the clearly Inisfreean girls standing farther in and down near the large opening into the central fighting pit. The girl's hair was very slowly changing colors, and the irises of her eyes matched this rather entrancing process. This was one of the most apparent signature traits of the Inisfreean-only physique, and one which they only showed, Sarah would learn, to the most trusted and desirable of Outlanders. To everyone else, they appeared completely normal --or refused to appear at all.
The Inisfreean girl's stance and glance toward Sarah said it all. Inisfreeans tend to only communicate with their body language, as they are taught this in their private school system as much as an Outlander is taught to read, write, and use the spoken word. This Inisfreean girl's body, especially her eyes, told Sarah to hurry across the great open area between her tunnel's exit hatch and where the Inisfreean stood at the parting of the pit walls. It was time for her to join the crowd of other Outlander girls who were already formed up in a sitting group arranged around several other Inisfreean girls explaining more about the duties, positions, commands, conduct, poise, and grace expected of them as future slave girls.
But Sarah Conrad, last to find her way into that room with her fellows spared from the Outlands still being terraformed many hundreds of miles away... would scarcely have time even to reach the Inisfreean who had silently beckoned her, for all of a sudden the air in the room seemed to at first cool, as if with the telltale approach of a great cold front and following storm cloud cover, and then everything and everyone fell silent, and this calming warmth and ease of breath overcame them all. Their Godking was here.
When He entered, there was no snapping to the position of attention or saluting, as one might expect to find in some Outland realms. Instead, every girl in the whole room went wide-eyed for a split second, then in that same second dropped to her knees and spread them as wide open as she possibly could, assuming the perfect posture of the Gorean slave girls called kajirae. Every girl had her eyes forward, chin up, head held high, hands resting over her thighs, palms up, and breathing controlled and hushed to as close to total silence as was possible. This was how females in Inisfree acknowledged their Masters, and not even blinking was done without careful consideration of how those Masters wished such minute details to be executed.
Interestingly, though, there was no air of tension in the room; no dread or foreboding, no trembling bodies or nervous sideways glances. Everyone in there was as calm as could be, confident in the knowledge that they were being pleasing to Him, and very, very proud and aroused at that fact, too. It was the atmosphere of a close-knit, loving, platonic family, though certainly one where anything shy of perfection was considered a grave offense. Though serene and loving, Inisfree clearly did not tolerate even a slip up down into the tier of mere excellence.
The man, standing at least a full foot taller than the tallest girls in the room, strode in and right by Sarah with the gait of the godking he was; not cocky, but certainly not like any of the 'men' she had encountered in the Outlands. This was the walk of a born leader, a commander, a warrior-scholar who had earned through a lifetime of battles his place at the helm of the Inisfreean war machine. The man who passed in front of Sarah was none other than the Master of Masters, Ubar of Ubars -as the Goreans called such men; this was the Governor of the city and empire called Inisfree. And much like the cities on the planet Gor, the ways of which Sarah would soon be learning much more of now that she had been approved to enter the perimeter of Inisfree, this city was a signature community and mighty army like none her world had ever seen. Sarah now knelt before the one man who had envisioned and kickstarted it all, and he was searching her room full of girls for the next one to please him this day.
His voice called out over their kneeling, silent crowd like a smoothly rumbling peal of thunder quickly approaching from the distance. It was masculine yet somewhat musical, refined and well honed, somewhere between baritone and tenor, and carrying with it the accents of a dozen major regions. The Governor was definitely a linguist and world traveler, possibly also a practiced public speaker and vocalist, and definitely a man who had instructed troops in training and battle for a number of years. He carried himself like a Drill Instructor, though also like a god. 'Master' might not have sufficiently covered his status, wisdom, and capabilities here. "Which of you Outlanders knows how to fuck?" His call for volunteers was a challenge, and Sarah probably had no idea --beyond his tone and stance, along with the instant universal respect and reverence his presence in the room had triggered-- just exactly how much; this was a life-or-death challenge. No one was expected to raise her hand or speak up unless she knew in every fiber of her being that she was a sex goddess by any and every measure of the term.
No one made a peep. Many of the girls kneeling throughout the room quietly gulped, hoping their lack of skills and confidence wouldn't offend any of the Inisfreeans enough to warrant another round of disciplinary measures like those they had endured in the giant vehicles which had kenneled them in the Outlands, or like those they had endured on the flights up here from across the Southern Ocean. The one man in the room gazed out over their kneeling masses, narrowing his eyes a bit as he regarded them, waiting like a predator to pounce on any girl bold enough to dare to volunteer. He would put her to the test --whichEver one she turned out to be. He would show her a whole new level of testing the likes of which she could not imagine. And he would expect her to enjoy this and proudly rise to the challenge, revealing her long-repressed, inner lioness; her inner alpha kajira, for only alpha girls, wholly submissive to Him yet worlds above and beyond all other females, were befitting the King of Kings.
The vastness of this place never ceased to amaze her, everything crafted with such care and perfection that she had to wonder at the architects who so lovingly crafted every detail. How ingenious they were. It was like this world was made of old and new, for she felt as if the past and the present were currently meshed together in some strange sort of time warp. Old Rome meets modern techno age, it was rather brilliant.
Barely finished examining the expanse she had entered, her eyes were then drawn to the beauty awaiting her. Again Sarah was struck with how gorgeous she was, so fit, so vital and not at all like the skeletal alien-like boy mime models that her people obsessed about. The color change was rather spell binding to her, and she openly stared with wonder and fascination; Was that a function of the girls race or was there something in the water here?
Swiftly closing the distance between herself and the goddess before her, she only had time to notice the many circles of naked girls around goddesses like the one beside her when everything changed. Her body registered the change in the temperature, a shiver dancing down her spine as she fought the urge to look for who might have opened a window or door. As swiftly as the chill came, it left, and leaving in its wake an unexplained warmth that had her nipples tingling with delight.
The man entered, but not one like she had ever come across. " A God.." whispered from her lips before she could seal them to silence as he passed. There was no need for her to gaze at her captors to know how to respond in the presence of such a being, her body naturally knew and responded to him. Resisting the urge to moan, she kissed her knees to the floor and spread widely her pale thighs to expose the plump lips of her sex and its pink glistening center. She straightened the planes of her back, thrusting forth her supple breasts provocatively in desire to have even the barest glance of his eyes caress their puckering tips.
Which of you Outlanders knows how to fuck? The sentence was rather startling to her. It was a simple question but it seemed to have a much deeper meaning here than it first appeared. None of their gorgeous captors answered, and why would they when he had only called on Outlanders; the Earth girls they had found pleasing enough to save and bring here. The fires in her belly stirred, her body tingling with life and sensation in manners she had never experienced before here. Perhaps it was the mere sight of such a man before her and the desire to be found pleasing by him that suddenly made her cry out. " I do!"
Surprise registered upon many of the Earth girls' faces and she could almost feel the shock rippling through them but her eyes were only for the man before her. 'I want to be his, I need to be his' whispered softly through her mind.
Singling Her Out:
He was in front of her in no time, though his stride had remained nonchalant. The way he stood was like that of a Greek statue, or the Thunder God readying and deciding if he would strike down the puny mortal before him with a single blow of his fist or lightning. His gaze alone seemed capable of penetrating her to her very core and soul, but there was no hatred in his eyes; only serene scrutiny. He was examining her, sizing her up, analyzing the body language she didn't even know she was speaking through.
"So," he spoke in a surprisingly inviting, almost friendly tone down to her where she knelt before his booted feet, the blood-rape cape settling back around his chiseled physique which put Michelangelo's David to shame, "you think you've got what it takes to learn how to fuck like a slave girl?" Before she could answer, he tossed a proverbial wrench in her gears just to further test and challenge her; "Look directly into my eyes when you answer me, Outlander." He wouldn't tell her again, and it seemed clear he might just as quickly tell her to look back away if the way she gazed up at him was anything less than infinitely pleasing. As before, he gave off the vibe of the most tranquil mountain lake hiding the barely dormant caldera it had some time in the distant past filled; he was the picture of inner peace, enlightenment, ascension, ...yet also of infinite cosmic awareness and power; omniscience and omnipotence. Yes, more than even a god, this man standing tall before little, eager Sarah had to be one of the fabled descendants of Odin or even Greater beings.
He took a knee in front of her, getting closer to inspect her even further. He felt her tits and then slid his palm all the way down her belly until it was parting her pussy lips and feeling them thoroughly, too. Her clitoris, labia minora, vagina, asshole, buttocks; everything, he felt thoroughly, inspecting her the same way one would inspect a prized animal or a piece of evidence at the scene of a crime. (And, it was no coincidence, that was exactly what she Was; humans are animals, for they are not plants or minerals, and she certainly was prized, being searched for and rescued in the midst of a rapid global rebooting, as it were. She was also a piece of evidence that sometimes true beauty can and Does still occur even in the heart of a monstrous zombie outbreak such as the recently removed 'humanity'. Yes, Sarah Conrad was a prized animal and piece of evidence that humanity still had a shred of usefulness.) She would be able to feel in the air around her and between them that even a split-second Hint of recoil from his touches across her whole body would result in the most brutal of corrective assaults.
The air between them began to cool again -similarly to how it had just before he had entered this vast underground chamber for Inisfree's greatest slave games. His hands, by contrast, felt even warmer than they usually did when they made contact with her bare, silken flesh. Somewhere in the distance, perhaps through one of the white and gold tunnels, it almost sounded as if there was a gentle, soothing, rain-indicating peal and roll of thunder, though it was so faint a whisper that it might just as easily have seemed like a trick of the subconscious.
Apparently, this god kneeling before her was satisfied with what he saw, smelled, and felt of her, and so he opened her mouth and used his fingers and thumbs to move her lips and cheeks out of the way, inspecting all of her teeth, gums, tongue, and the back of her throat before closing her mouth and taking a fistful of the hair at the back of her head and neck in his hand and using her hair there to get her shifting back onto her feet and standing as tall as she could right in front of him. Little surges of energy could be felt darting in, through, and back out of her body with every part of her he touched. His life-force and aura were 'through the roof', and his mere proximity to her was realigning all of her chakras, cleansing all of her energy meridians, and exponentially increasing and stabilizing her chi. Even more so than when she had first been escorted from the underground war-ship docks to the first section of the white and gold tunnels, all of her senses were becoming crystal clear -like nothing she had ever experienced or known possible before. Beyond feeling in perfect health, she would now also be feeling in perfect arousal and readiness to be used and enjoyed as the sexual object she had always secretly wanted to be; a being whose entire body, every piece, was desired and gripped to connect with and have.
"This little barbarian is grossly ignorant," he spoke in that masculine, smooth, rumbling voice of his that was like sunshine and thunder mixed into one on a warm day, loud enough for the whole room to hear, but still mesmerizingly inviting and moderate in volume even right in front of and above her face; "she is from the Outlands; there is no Way she could know how to properly bring men and women to climax... ...but she might have what it takes to survive here." He paused, looking her whole front over one more time, then used his grip of her hair to rotate her 180 degrees so he could look over her whole backside just as thoroughly. "-maybe even be pleasing one day." It was in his voice, unmistakable -especially to one such as Sarah who had had her health and sensory perception maxed out to near goddess-levels; this god now rubbing her whole crotch from behind her Liked her. He Saw something in her. He was giving her her chance. Her instant enthusiasm and boldness had really pleased him and earned his attention.
Without any notice or warning, he rose, pivoted on his heel, and, still with her held firmly by almost all of her hair now, marched her straight out of the girls-filled room, keeping her bent over toward him slightly, a bit off balance and awkward (intentionally, as this aroused him for the time being) as she would then have to struggle to keep up and heel him. The sound of a whip cracking menacingly in their wake was all that was left of that cavernous room of hers as its double doors silently resealed themselves behind her and this foot-taller man, the Master and God of this realm which the privileged knew as Inisfree.
Keeping his grip on her hair, he marched her through a section of the white and gold tunnels grid which was new to her, and into the most luxurious subway car she had ever seen. There, he sat down on a studded Corinthian leather seat, and continued to hold her by her full head of hair as she remained on the subway car's floor be the side of his right leg. The doors closed, the acceleration was so smooth that no change in inertia was felt, and within seconds they were moving away from her Receiving Facility and the Subterranean Vatican arena at nearly 400 miles per hour. It was clear that their subway train was moving at unbelievable speeds, and that it was rolling (rotating about its X-axis) as much as 90 degrees when taking the tighter curves inside its subway tunnel route... yet it was as if it was the world outSide their subway car which was racing by, for Sarah felt not the slightest hint of motion in her stomach or anywhere else. Such was the precision of Inisfreean engineering; an identical wonder to what she had witnessed when the wall and floor of her extraction airship turned clear as they soared through shape-changing mountains and down into the ocean.
Sarah was not fucked that day. In spite of being picked right out of a group of hundreds, and though her destiny was becoming more apparent and extremely fortunate with every passing day and moment, today was her first day to demonstrate how sexy she could make any assignment entrusted to her for that very purpose; she was to make every single thing she did look so unbelievably sexy that no man could ever again resist her. She was not allowed to learn of this initial schedule and screening, though; as their subway train rapidly decelerated into the next subway station's docking groove (again with no forces causing her to lean even in the least), the god who was holding her full head of hair let her natural woman's extra-sensory perception pick up on the horniness within him she had thus far earned the beginnings of. He let her feel this, washing over her, and leading her on in their first teasing, tormenting, edging, and sexual tension building encounter together.
The Governor, also known as the King here, had willed their subway train to slow to a stop at another station less than a minute away, though at the speed they'd been going, that could have taken them five to ten miles along the tracks. He stood up, marched out, and sent Sarah flying forward and away from him, releasing his grip on her hair as she stumbled and tumbled off toward the edge of the white and gold platform just outside the subway's housing groove. Walking past her and not so much as affording her one passing glance, he snapped his fingers for her to get back on her feet and heel him, following him up and out of the subway station which looked more like a Greco-Roman temple full of hanging ferns, bowls of slowly burning incense, grooved columns, ornately carved capstones, faintly glowing crystal bunches, and thin veils of mist pouring down over tiny waterfalls and fanning out over the texture-changing surface of the 'smart'-flooring still adjusting to Sarah's motions and thoughts.
She might have noticed in that moment, if she hadn't become too spellbound with her Heaven-on-Earth surroundings and the god now taking her under his wing for consideration as a possible prized fuck toy, that her balance, dexterity, and thresh-holds for pain and damage had Also markedly increased; she would almost Never stumble or fall on her own here. It would usually take an Inisfreean Master to cause that. She would be able to catch rapidly flying objects without even thinking about it or trying, and whatever she Did bump into, fall on, or skid across from time to time... would seem to be powerless at cutting or bruising her. Furthermore, whenever she Did get a little sore spot or scrape, it wouldn't hurt as much, wouldn't decrease her range of motion, and would heal almost before her very eyes. And this would only increase as her days in Inisfree grew, her exposure to the Inisfreean diet, environment, energies, and Way literally making her the next Supergirl.
Once up the palatial staircase leading from their subway's waiting platform to the Inisfreean surface and upper hemisphere, they were outside in the open air, surrounded by the healthiest, greenest trees, bushes, and grass that had ever grown on the face of the planet. A thin, winding stream babbled nearby, feeding into an unseen creek, and up above them shone more than a billion stars, many of which were closely grouped together into the entire arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, complemented by the colorful bands of the Aurora Australis superimposed upon them at 200 miles up, along with the hypnotic nacreous clouds just a few miles above where they stood on that lushly cultivated meadow and treeline. The air smelled like the endless fields and slopes of hundreds of wildflower species which it was coming from and blowing right over, and the Inisfreean moon seemed to hover just a mile or two over the edge of the plateau-topped, central mountain whose covering was a thick canopy of giant, gently swaying treetops which spread out all the way down its every side, finally ending in the treeline full of sporadically blinking fireflies which was several meters from where Sarah and her first Master now stood.
The King opened his hand as he looked up and out over the breathtaking scene, a fatherly smile slowly forming across his face, and held that open hand out at his side for Sarah to place her neck and hair back into, without even looking over his shoulder at her. She would have to start anticipating his commands and desires very accurately and quickly. Her Master was a deeply loving man, but also a sleeping volcano. Though Sarah already had proven she had the instincts which would earn her an Inisfreean Heaven of a lifetime and eternity, she still had to demonstrate them at every twist and turn.
No sooner had the words sprung from her lips, the God King fixed predatory eyes upon the little she beast that had dared to speak and accordingly came to scrutinize her for the truth of her words. Reflexively, as his strides brought him to her, she lowered her eyes towards the space before his feet. In this way she showed him her respect, but she did not cower, nor lean away as if repulsed. Sarah's body exquisitely lifted towards him, almost as if her life force was magnetized to his in such a profound way that the others could almost physically see her soul trying to reach out from the center of her chest to him.
Soft pink lips parted to speak in answer, lifting the soft fans of mahogany lashes to expose large ebony sphere centers, surrounded by solar flares of molten gold and bleeding into incredibly rich emerald jewels. " I do, Master." Answering the challenge he had laid before her with as much perfection as she could muster. She continued to gaze upon his face, soaking in every contour, the barest twitch of his facial expressions, the way his mouth formed words and his eyes so intense that it made her instantly want to cum on the spot.
It seemed there was something of interest that he found in her, as he knelt down and with all watching began to investigate the prize his Inisfree-born girls had brought back with them. The sensation was shocking to her, to be so thoroughly analyzed and in the presence of so many girls who no doubt desired his touch just as much. Yet, she couldn't sense any sort of jealousy, least not from the spartan girl captors who seemed nothing but pleased by this turn of events. There was no thought of retreating from his open grasping, petting, stroking and all other manners of touches he desired to put her under. She remained as she had when he had first stood over her, though now her breathing had escalated and her flesh had become lively beneath his scrutiny.
By the time he gripped her hair and brought her to stand straighter than she had ever done in her entire life, her nether lips were dew dotted with her pleasure liquids and swollen with arousal. The longer he touched her, the more she sensed the muck that had clogged her chi and spiritual filter disappearing. Weight visibly lifted from her, darkness no longer discoloring her flesh and making it dead to the array of sensations that surrounded her. It awoke in her the dormant desires that the Outlanders had sought to crush and squash as being poisonous. She could feel him seriously activating the arousal within her, turning her flesh galvanic, a perfect conduit of desire and ecstasy. It was incredible powerful, almost overwhelming as tears sprang to her eyes with this realization of herself and her capabilities. She now knew herself to have been dead up until this day, this very moment when he had seen fit to touch her. That was when her thighs clutched, euphoria spilling through her veins like a cleansing heated water and she openly went into orgasm before all those that watched. Sarah didn't thrash or squeal lewdly, but all could tell that the star bashing explosion was a violent shock wave that tore through her more terrifyingly than a earth quake. Her first slave orgasm.
There was no command given as he left the silent room of girls, his hand still clasped within her thick vibrant mane of cinnamon leading her away as the sounds of whips snapped viciously in the air. Joy as she had never known it before was flooding through her being as he marched with her through tunnels and to a subway that made her breath catch with its beauty. She was not permitted to sit on a seat, but she hadn't expected to be and even seemed to prefer kneeling at his feet that she might lean elegantly against the side of his right leg. Her scalp tingled from where he held firm the cinnamon threads of her mane. Enamored with the power of him, marveling that such a man could exist in a place other than the deepest recesses of her subconscious.
Just as she had known the train was moving, she also knew when it slowed and stopped without ever feeling even a minuscule amount of G-force normally associated with such moving vehicles. The Master never spoke a word but rose to his feet and moved, Sarah quickly climbing to her feet and following him until he flung her before him. Gasping as she struck the ground, surprised by his strength and yet sensing that that was just the tip of the iceberg for him. If he had wanted to hurt her, he would have done so but this seemed more like a game or a test as he strode past her. The click of his fingers called her back to her feet and running to follow him as he seemed to desire. Everything around her was a spell binding pleasure that called her attention, that her eyes drink in the vast wealth and beauty, her ears to soak up every delicious sound and her body to feel the perfection of the world around her. All this, yet she never seemed to be overwhelmed with it. She found she could take all this in, and still have the awareness to heel the Master before her with perfect clarity.
There was a moment she was granted to view a part of the vast richness this city had to offer but the open hand at his side drew her attention more precipitously than the gorgeous nature they had stepped into. Bare feet padded swiftly across the delighting surface of the floor, bending at the waist as she pressed her head into his waiting palm. With a deft motion she turned her head, fastening her teeth upon his thigh in a sharp needy bite that was swiftly released as her fingers clawed down his calf. Perhaps this might earn her a beating, but the feelings inside her had bidden her to reach out to him thus. It was the delicious expression of a kajira, helpless in her newfound need to touch and be touched by this man that she now called Master; both in her heart and soul.
Greeting the Godking:
He had grinned when she promptly and confidently stated "I do, Master." That was the kind of response a trained kajira musters forth... or a girl destined by the stars to be a born-again slave girl through and through. She had kept her eyes downcast, her body elevated and ever so slightly rising toward him, he had felt her soul reaching out to and for him, and he could see her chi and aura glowing and expanding like never before. Sarah was the spitting image of the exemplary cadet and female; two things he hadn't seen or heard of in decades. She almost didn't even need any training at all, but he would give it to her all the same, for such was one of the greatest things that aroused him, and he knew that, in turn, would arouse and unlock her even more. Perpetual horniness, perpetual sexiness, and perpetual compatibility were now apparent on Both of their horizons.
When she lost control of herself and bit at his leg, raking her fingertips down its sides, an audible gust of air flowed down from his nostrils as another tickled and approving grin spread across his face's features. His cock had stirred in that moment, and now hung a bit longer, more enlarged, between his legs and just a millimeter in front of his balls. It was growing for her, if ever so slowly, and his endless doubt of all things from the Outlands was beginning to fade. Here at his side was a responsive, agreeable, sane, compatible, curiously perfect little future slave... though clearly already both a true slave, and his love slave, in her heart of hearts. This, he found pleasing, and glanced up at the billion stars spread out across the royal blue sky above them, giving them a brief and reverent nod; 'Well done --finally.' Even with the stellar beings; the ascended masters from Ages long past, with whom he met and conversed with in the dreaming realm regularly now, he was still a Senior Drill Instructor; in an endless love-hate relationship that often flipped like a lightswitch at the drop of a hat. Today, though, with Sarah Conrad showing up in his now-immortal life, there was a new and beautiful harmony, and things were good.
The Godking let her cute little loss of restraint and burst of frenzy go. It was endearing in a way, and he couldn't be harmed, anyway, so why make a fuss out of it? Had Sarah been displeasing in any way, however, she would have been taken promptly to the city's recycling plant. Her Master's wrath was as quick and total as his lust and love.
The girl of barely 16 was gripped again by her full head of hair, marched toward the edge of the little stream, and brought down until she was on all fours right along its nearest bank. The King continued to move her head down until her face was slightly pressed a centimeter into the cool, wet mud where the bright green grass blades ended and the rippling waterline began. "Keep your face exactly where it is until you are finished washing your clothes." He produced an extremely dirty rag from one of his pockets and dropped it over her eyes. It was caked in many layers of dirt, grass stains, and other filth, and had a foul odor to it. It would take at least two or three consecutive passes through a washing machine to clean it up enough for use again, and Sarah was expected to produce the same results by hand -and with no soap.
His hand released her hairs and he stood back up, stepping away from her a couple feet. Without moving her face from where it was almost smashed down into the stream-bank's mud, she would have to lie on her side or put her lower body down into the stream in order to have enough range of motion with her hands and arms to give the little scrap of a rag the soapless scrubbing it now needed. The impossibly sexy voice of a young girl entered her mind, almost like a whisper on the wind, and gave her a few words of advice in a genuinely loving and friendly tone; "You must make this chore look extremely sexy, not over the top, and completely from your heart. Until you earn the right to be naked again, this clothing will be your first daily chore and shame of concealment. ...Don't fuck up." The voice, ending as friendly and loving as it had begun, faded back out of her mind, and she was left where she could only see the amazing Inisfreean starry and aurora-laden sky out of the corner of one of her eyes, the Governor standing in her blind spot, waiting to see how she would choose to perform her first duty.
The scrap of filthy fabric, as it was removed from over her eyes, uncrumpled, and unfolded, was no longer or wider than a gentleman's tie. This was considered excessive concealment in Inisfree, as well as indecent exposure; covering up a beautiful body was a mortal crime, felonious and punishable in most cases by death, but in the case of a newcomer from the Outlands, approved against all odds by the most perfectionistic race in all of time, Sarah would wear it like a recruit wears a shaved head or unbloused camouflage trousers; an unmistakable mark of her primitive status at the very bottom of the Inisfreean totem pole. How she was to wear this tie remained to be told.
The endless, sporadic, silent little blips of yellow-green firefly lights blinked on and off, dotting and shimmering in the softly rippling waters of the tiny stream Sarah was now on her face and knees beside. She could see the equally soul-stirring reflections of the billions of stars high over her vantage, rippling along with both the yellow-green dots and the whole arm of the Milky Way, as well as the colorful wisps of the Aurora Australis; the Southern Lights. Across the surface of the stream, and up the vibrant, lush, grassy bank on the opposite shore, the treeline seemed to be faintly aglow from deep within its shadowy recesses; from what she could gather, the new realm she was in was Heaven on Earth, and it came complete with a bioluminescent forest she might one day earn the chance to explore.
The length of her body literally shuttered as the filthy strip touched her flesh and yet her hands grabbed eagerly at the dirty rag because it was something that HE had given specifically to her. Later she would learn of the insult this actually was, but for the moment it was as precious to her as her own life. Her cheek smudged into the mud and caking in her hair, she momentarily was still as she thought of the best way to go about this.
The blades of grass tickled against the smooth, unblemished pelt of her flesh. The water trickling softly past her providing cool breezes against her face. She finally turned to lay upon her side, while fingers swept blindly in search of suitable rocks because she knew her hands alone would never clean this enough. She stroked the ground as if she were laying upon an expansive bed and was enjoying the feel of is linens against her frame until she found what she was looking for.
Curling up in a delicate display of helplessness and loveliness, she dipped the fabric into the water, pinning it between the rocks and grinding them to start removing the filth that filled it. The way she was settled exposed the sweet flare of her hip, the round of shapely ass that gave way to the sweet silken lips of her slave heat. The side of her breast was exposed to his viewing, her moving arms brushing against her nipples exciting them to erect little dots that begged to be licked and suckled. The dimples of her back became more pronounced as she arched herself in such a manner as to better display the slenderness of her and the smooth flat expanse of her white belly.
Though she couldn't see him, she could feel his presence as surely as she felt the sun's warmth upon her naked body and unwittingly the bends of her legs down to her softly pointed toes were arrowed directly towards him.
She continued to grind the fabric between the stones, pausing to gather it within an exposed palm like a sweetly offered fruit and dip it into the pristine water for a rinse. It was there she stayed, working in silence, straining to be found pleasing by this Man she knew as Master.
It took an hour of constant, tiring scrubbing to get the strip of fabric anywhere close to what one might call "clean enough", and many stains remained deeply ingrained in its material when the King, still standing silently out of her field of vision, snapped his fingers for her to stop and quickly assume the pleasure-slave position as she and the girls in that last room of their had done upon the moment of his entry. She had entertained him, stirring his loins and playing upon his heart strings, and so she had passed this first exercise and graduated to be scheduled for her next.
Her Master slapped her hard across her face, leaving a pink mark on her right cheek and tears along with stars in her eyes. "That's for having a dirty face," his strangely soothing voice rumbled down to her as he regarded her work with the rag which was to become her clothing for the foreseeable future. "If you make any attempt to wipe your face clean," he was, of course, referring to the mud he had smeared across it when pressing her head down into the wet bank of the stream, "you will be whipped until you sob and pass out." Again, strangely, there was no seething rage in his voice; he spoke as calmly to her as if he was telling a story or singing a lullaby; it was matter-of-fact; just something for her to be advised of, lest she need to remind herself not to give in to any Outlander habits, such as moving or touching herself without thinking about it.
"Tie your clothing around your head like a blindfold," he calmly told her. Her tie (that scrap of fabric she'd been assigned during her new-recruit phase of training) was to be tied in such a way as to block her from seeing the magnificent wonder that was the Inisfreean sky and landscaping. She was to be denied her sense of sight --until she earned it back, along with her right to be nude and show off her perfect little body. He waited for her to begin tying it, expecting her to know that the knot must be a good one; that everything she did had to be perfect, lest she be punished extensively to help her remember this new constant; perfection Was attainable. It just required the proper mindset; motivation and faith-in-self. "Make me want to see your eyes again," he rumbled to her, his lips only a fraction of an inch away from her own, letting her feel his warm breath flowing out over and upon their wet, awaiting pout.
Hooking two of his fingers up into her pussy, he bid her stand at his side like this, and gave her one last bit of advice before their next leg of traveling on foot; "If my fingers slip out of your pussy even for just one moment, again, you will be whipped severely. If I sense that you like being whipped, I will make sure you don't enjoy the kind of whipping that will follow." He started walking, and now she had to heel him without being able to see where she was going, and any one stumble meant she might fall away from his fingers, resulting in a new level of helplessness and pain. He walked at a slow, steady pace so she could get her bearings and adjust to this latest form of submission for a few minutes, enjoying her company probably more than she so far assumed. More than once, visions of suckling on those important breasts of hers filled his mind's eye and left the hint of a smile dancing across his lips. She had done her first job well; she had made doing the laundry look exCruciatingly sexy. She had been inviting even in her punishments, and his whole body would eventually be accepting her tempting invitation to come in.
The strike had come rudely without a hint of warning, causing her to hiss with pain and rapidly blink her eyes with surprise. Didn't he know that it was because of him that her face was dirty? Fear traced its icy claw down the length of her spine as he commanded that she not attempt to clean herself. Would the other girls strike her for the mud marring her pale features? A shudder rippled down her frame " yes, Master." In time she would recognize the lessons he was imparting to her, but for the moment she struggled to comprehend how he could speak to her with a voice of ambrosia and strike her with such viciousness at the same time.
Lifting the strip of cloth with the relaxed cupping of her hands, she pressed the fabric over the curves of her still tearing eyes. Having her sight taken away frightened and excited her; there was no telling what he would do and she would not see it coming. He could just as soon kill her as fuck her, which kept her trying to balance upon the dagger's edge she'd been on since meeting him. The cloth was tied in such a manner that its fabric ran beneath the waterfall of her dark hair. Sitting in the crevice between the delicate shell of her ear and side of her head, she avoided the ugliness of her hair being pinned and rudely bumping over her ears; that wasn't a good look for anyone, in her humble opinion. At the back of her head she knotted the fabric, ensuring that no matter what trials he was going to put her through that it would never fall off unless he forcefully tore it from her face. " yes, Master." Again that subtle lift of her frame towards his was made -as if she couldn't help herself; the delicate tilt and proffering of her slave lips towards him in the hopes that he would rape them.
Having expected a kiss and instead receiving two fingers hooking into her clutching folds, she jolted like he had just electrocuted her. The constant upward pressure made her unfurl deliciously curvy legs to stand as elegantly and salaciously as any high slave could. With the warning in place, he moved and she followed. Panic raced through her like a startled bird in a cage, thrashing this way and that in desire to flee but finding every route closed off and barred. There was nothing she could do but rely on him, that he would lead her safely around harmful things or maybe he wouldn't and this was a test to see how far she was willing to submit to him. For a bit she pranced on tip toe, finding the breadth of his hand obtrusive to her normal steps but she knew that it wasn't he who had to change to fit her more; it was the other way around. He seemed willing enough to let her explore different gaits and steps until she managed to find one that complemented him. Instinctively she drew her arms back, crossing at slender wrists and pinning them at her tail bone, her forearms framing those lovely step-swaying dimples.
The King of Inisfree was already loving the half shellshocked, half horny way his little prize from the reformation of the Outlands was reacting to his every touch and command. Her tiny, taut, curvy, youthful body was Heaven to him, and he hoped she would be so smart that not only would she learn and eventually master all he helped her discover about herself and her new world, but also that she would sense his desire that she retain her occasional starts, jolts, hitched breathing, and restrained trembles whenever he edged her a bit more out of her familiarities and comfort zone. She had done so well in that large, bulky, armored vehicle in the Outlands, and had been a treasure to watch when they had abandoned her to see what the truest colors of her hidden spirit were really all about, and now he had her, at last, in his special, secret, sacred home, deep in the heart of the great white continent, and it was all he could do not to smile down upon her as he beheld all she was, sometimes gracefully, sometimes clumsily, always sexily struggling with all her heart and soul to become that which he and she both had for so very long wanted her to be; His.
They walked by a formation of a few dozen teenage girls receiving their slave collars, and as the Master Females (Inisfreean-borne girls who had studied for two decades straight inside the walls of this heavenly city) clicked each collar closed and locked around the girls' necks, each girl began to cry and gulp and shiver, blushing and moistening with overwhelming joy and relief and pride, some of them even being allowed to hug and kiss the Inisfreean girls who had been their uncompromising instructors while they had studied in the Receiving Facility, ramped up in the Holistic Hospital (rehabilitation from their strange upbringings in the Outlands), and completed their 41-day orientation tour of Inisfree. The feelings were the same as those of recruits finally standing on their Parade Decks and graduating from Marine Corps Boot Camp or Navy SEAL training. They couldn't have been happier or more pleased with themselves. Their instructors felt the same. Sarah's uncompromising escort, the King of them all, raised the blindfold she had tied up from over her eyes, giving her a few moments to take in the emotional sight of it all, his hooked fingers staying inside her pussy as they stood there together, getting her more and more used to feeling of him being in her and directing her like that; a very important evolution for anyone wishing to enter their rarest of realms.
"Do you think you will ever earn the right to be locked into the metal collar of the slave girl?" the King asked her, looking down at her face as she was allowed to look upon the formation of crying, smiling, beaming young girls. His voice rumbled, complemented again by the hint of distant, rolling thunder from somewhere behind the massive, miles tall, central mountain of their city. It was clear in his voice that, one, he Wanted her to be, two: the way he spoke of slave girls, his tone gave it away that he beheld them as the most treasured and lovely creations in all of existence., and, three: failure was not an option for little, lovely, liberated Sarah; she would succeed, somehow, in spite of all the trials he would put her through to ensure she was the best, or... she would endure things they hadn't even written about in Revelations. Sarah was the King's prized gem at the moment, but the pressures he would carefully apply to her would make her even more than this; his brightest diamond.
With blindfold removed, Sarah gazed upon the celebrations of the others unable to help the tug at the corners of her lips and the light that flared within the depths of her eyes. Standing proudly beside the King, his fingers hooked within her pretty little pussy which clutched and shuddered against his digits like a hungry little mouth. He asked her a question and for a moment she did not respond but continued to regard the pretty slaves in their collars.
" I hope not, Master," she'd reply thoughtfully, lifting delicate chin and facing him. Her eyes locked upon his, intense, beguiling, entrancing as she sought to make him understand exactly what it was she was saying. " I don't dream of a metal collar given to me by your goddesses." Stepping closer to align her frame against his, fitting perfectly like a matching puzzle piece as she bumped and rubbed his muscled arm with pendant white breast and its juicy little pink nipple in a bid of seduction. " I dream of being put at the feet of a God King, and having his hands lock my throat within the collar of his choosing that all may know I am his." The words were spoken silkily, dreamily as powerfully as if she were speaking a spell from her heart. Just speaking such brazen things to him was making her inner walls squeeze greedily around his fingers, drooling her lust and desire upon them. Her breathing became shallow as she gazed at his face, lifting her softly parted lips towards his in beg of a raping kiss and he'd feel that with just a stroke of his finger within would more than likely send her into fits of slave orgasm.
A slave was a slave. Sarah knew this but there was something to be said for being collared by one of the perfect warrior girls and by the King himself. All must be pleasing, all must be perfect, but she knew herself his true love slave and that was perhaps an even deeper and more profound kind of slavery than what those other girls would enjoy. " Master."
Alphas Appreciate Boldness:
The King grinned and let air audibly flow out from his nostrils, clearly enjoying her attempt at seduction, and he let her notice how it had made his cock involuntarily stir, rising up an inch for her -right between the two of them. Before she could do anything else, he slid his fingers back out from her pussy and put them in her mouth, holding her jaw with his fist closed around her lower, front teeth; his thumb tucked up under her chin. It was like That that he led her back to the luxurious subway station, and like that that he held her on the floor, kneeling in the pleasure slave position at his feet, resting on her shins on the flooring of their subway car, facing him directly as they accelerated back up to 380 MPH and banking nearly 90 degrees through the turns. "I find your boldness very arousing, Outlander," he had rumbled to her... somewhere along the way. "I haven't seen that level of perfection in any of the other girls... Perhaps you will earn your wish; that which is clearly in your eyes and heart."
Sarah was taken back to a group of a few dozen of the girls she had been brought to Inisfree with; many of whom she would recognize from the room where all had dropped to their knees and sat as Gorean pleasure slaves for the man who had just pulled her aside to speak with her one on one. There, they would learn to get over their jealousies and suspicions; odd Outlander mental disorders considered to be unacceptable forms of unnecessarily negative motivation now that they were here in Inisfree, and Sarah would join them as they spoke freely amongst one another, each one brainstorming ways they could be more pleasing to their Inisfreeans Masters (the Master Females along with their King, Lord Himmler, 'The Governor') in the training orgies that would soon follow.
"Sarah," one of them beamed a soft, approachable, Georgian smile to her as she rejoined their group, the King now out of sight again, having left them there. "What can we do together to satisfy our Masters in the next orgy?"
The other girls quieted down, giving Sarah fair chance to speak, knowing that if they didn't learn to work together as the sexiest of teammates, they wouldn't make it through the next training evolution, wouldn't graduate, wouldn't get to wear the slave collars, and would end up back in the Outlands; as good as dead --assuming they didn't die by being tossed into the black-hole of the recycling center here in Inisfree, or fed to one of the dragons rumored to reside here, or worse; be sentenced to isolation, hung from a cross on the Rape Fields, then left to sleep in a dung sack, then dragged down into the Beastiality Dungeons to be denied sleep all night. Then there was also the rumor of the subterranean Vatican where gladiators engaged in real-life Mortal Kombat tournaments; gladiators being girls who had proven gross and otherwise offensive to the Inisfreean people.
It was now upon Sarah and the rest of these girls approved for initial entry and indoctrination into Inisfree... to figure out how to be perfectly sexy as a Team... and Sarah now had her motivation far beyond the threats implied by the various rumors of Inisfreean punishment measures; Sarah might be personally collared by the King... if she worked well enough with them, proving herself both perfect as a slave Teammate... as well as an indiVidual slave.
The slide of his fingers in exit had the sweet spot inside her swelling and pulsing, her muscles hugging and suckling in desire at his fingers in gentle coax and beg to stay within. He slipped his fingers free of her body and stuffed them into her mouth; The sweet taste of herself exploding across her tongue. Tongue eeling and threading its way between and along his grasping fingers, swallowing lightly as his thumb applied pressure just beneath the small curve of her chin. Again her sight was taken by the cloth set over her eyes and she was made to follow him, relying upon him to lead her true once more. Drool built within the well of her mouth, providing heated bath for his finger tips and occasionally rising towards the corners of her sex pot lips to tear drop down the sides of her mouth. Neat row of top teeth rested in the space between first and second knuckles, lips passively kissing O around the width of his invading fingers. Occasionally she would bring her mouth to clamp on his hand in suckling to draw back some of the saliva building in her mouth before relaxing again. To his words she could only smile, offering sweet blush upon the high rounds of her cheeks and straightening herself more beneath his powerful gaze.
She burned to ask where they were headed next, to know what lesson she would be taught, and of course she burned to have more of his delicious touch. Too soon his fingers were leaving the curve of her jaw and she knew herself to be without him as his aura evaporated. When next her blindfold was removed to hang softly against her collar bone, it was by the tender fingers of a Master Female, who then led her to a group of other Outlander girls apparently prepping for one of their lessons.
"Sarah, What can we do together to satisfy our Masters in the next orgy?"
The question was asked of her before she had even adequately spread her milky thighs in the helplessly feminine pleasure slave position. For a moment the girl remained quiet with consideration, letting her honey mint pools dance across the various other groups of outlander girls and the Master Females that watched them with predatory eyes. Fingers softly curled against the tops of her thighs, still feeling the beat of her heart within the secret parts of her ever since HE had deigned to touch her. She had better pass this test, or else hope for death because she couldn't live without being HIS.
" That would depend upon the type of orgy." She'd finally reply, looking back to the waiting girls, who seemed surprised and startled by this answer. " Think about it, " she'd continue, " everything they have put us through already....Hasn't this already shown that they consider sex on a grander scale than what we've been made to believe is the norm? I mean, I don't think our pornos would even begin to scratch the surface of what our Masters are capable of."
This seemed to start changing the girls' thinking dramatically, each regarding each other in new ways that probably hadn't occurred to them before. " We must caress one another, take turns feasting upon the other like they are our last meal, because it very well could be. Don't just go for the most obvious places, though those are important. I think they want us to connect with the total form; not just the usual hot-spots. Massages, fingering, licking, biting, scratching..All must be done with care...." She hoped she was saying the right things. All she could do was follow what her instincts and heart were telling her, and follow their lead. 'I will be His,' those instincts of hers confidently repeated in her mind.
Those subtle motions and slight shifts of hers were brilliant and not a one of them lost to him; he noticed and relished them all. Her skills were so completely compatible and profound that it gave even the living supercomputers he had evolved into super nymphs a run for their money. Yes, his First Girl here, now seated neatly upon the throne of his lap where she belonged, had grown to earn her place in his heart even as much as his Inisfreeans had. Even the length of her hair all by itself, and the way its tips teased at his knees, left him fully comfortable with allowing his member to flex harder and finish rising to its full height beneath her. With movements equally subtle to her own, he very slowly shifted her position a bit this way, then that, until its swelling, hardening head was pressing its tip up into her slit to bask in her slave heat and love oils. As his lungs quietly took in their deepest breaths, pulling each of her brilliantly placed scents into his nostrils, he flexed his member once more, giving it rise up inside her. His leg muscles relaxed, bringing her body down another inch upon his lap, and with that... he had started to fill her while his hands found their places rubbing slow circles around her ass and belly at the same time. The tip of his fingers, and the side of his thumb, found her pelvic dimples and rested there for a moment, his mind's eye imagining how those hypnotically sexy curves looked where her arching back met the round cheeks of her ass. He had to touch her at those spots; those heavenly dimples that called to him, needing him as much as he needed them. He had to feel her in this way, right there. He had to have her and own her when he thought about them, and even just gazing down at them whenever he fucked her from behind, almost staring, was enough to make him spray his hot wet cum all the way up into her core without even thinking to pause and hold it in him any longer. Such were her superpowers, and ones which he needed her to have. She was a masterfully formed slave.
When he could tell it was time to let his little slave girl look deeply into his eyes, he allowed her to, and returned the gaze with a knowing and deeply appreciative look of his own. He loved it when she did things such as that, and he loved looking back into her eyes and seeing that he was her whole world. That was the way a slave was supPosed to feel and act, and it was a great sign from the Universe that she, now here and once again with him, was. She trembled her breaths and verbal profession of her love for him into his lips, and he involuntarily smiled as his lips met hers several more times, tasting her again and again, each time more slowly and purposefully than the ones before. He didn't have to say those words to her, for she could feel them in his touch, and in all the things he did with her.
Her Master, Ubar of all Inisfree, tilted his head an inch to better feast on the view of her bare torso, and sucked on her breasts while his hands first clasped her wrists behind her back for a moment, ensuring in their passing grasps that her every fiber was submissive to his, and then took to cupping her breasts while he feasted on them, allowing her to further demonstrate her passiveness and willing compliance to his every whim, letting her subordination arouse him as his dominance aroused her. He quietly groaned his pleasure into her nipples as he sealed his lips around them, dragging his wet tongue in circles about their sides. "Your vision is sound, my girl," he rumbled into her cleavage between more exploratory trailing of his lips and tongue, letting her feel his warm exhales against her wetted skin. (In Inisfree, 'girl' is an extremely high compliment, for Inisfreeans regard nearly all Earthling females as mere monsters incapable of anything worthy of association with the female gender, so to be addressed as the word which means not only female but also healthily youthful and of greatest appeal, that is a rare acknowledgement, in deed.)
He knew he didn't have to tell her, his First Girl, to continue her slow and barely discernible body adjustments to finish arousing and stirring him to climax, so he let her slowly work her pussy and other muscles in their well rehearsed and heartfelt motions until she had gotten him to start cumming deep inside her. Meanwhile, he gave her her next command; "When I have satisfied myself with you, kajira," his powerful hands took her wrists and crossed them again behind her back before one gripped the hair at the back of her neck as his hand moving to her neck slid up under her jaw to coordinate in this tilting of her head back, leaving her face to look up at the ceiling ten stories above them and the diamond chandelier that silently rotated above his long desk, "your next task will be to find for me a few more examples of the finest architecture designed to honor the animals we have here in Inisfree." He put his pointer finger into her mouth, using it to tilt her head back down so that her eyes met his, giving another flex to his rock hard cock now stuffing her all the way up. The way she was giving herself over to him so completely, with her very soul and every breath and demonstration, was keeping his heart beating as strongly as she had felt it with the kiss of her hand. "Your drive for perfection has paid off; those buildings in that photo are a great start. Now let's see what you can find for our city's dragons, griffins, lions, pangolins, and pegasi."
His warm palms were now hot against her ass and belly again, rubbing their slow circles around them to help her start to drip and cum for him, and would remain there until she did. Her Master was going to take his time with her. Everything was on hold until they came because of each other, her wrists still left crossed behind her back, her long mop of hair still tickling at the tops of his knees, her legs still together and draped over his left side, and his legs still easing farther open to keep her settling down lower and lower upon his lap... until the sides of her pussy finally met the base of his shaft and the tops of his balls which were more than ready to squeeze out their loads and inject her with everything he'd been saving up that week. What he normally shared with a hundred of his Inisfreean girls or more, he would put all inside his First Girl today.
Chapter 2: Receiving Her Submissions
There was always an underlying concern or fear that what she brought him might be inferior to his ideals, which invariably would insult the uncompromising Ubar to whom she belonged. Everything she selected was carefully poured over, scrutinized and tested by the love in her heart that it be as appealing to Him as she found it. Nothing was passed to him if it did not make her eyes sparkle with tears, or her heart soar in joyous rapture, but still she feared displeasing him.
Soft lips parted ever so subtly, drawing in a delighted inhale as his arm curved around her and his hand rested upon the flare of her hip. It was like she had been carved and sculpted perfectly to and for him. As he regarded the picture she had released to his hands, her gaze would lower to marvel at how her curves fit/molded perfectly to the palm of his hand and lay of his fingers.
She paid no mind to the girls closing the paneled doors, for her attention was currently attuned directly to and only upon the man who was her Master. There would be time to love the others later, as she often enjoyed doing with full heart and soul.
Dark lashes were lifted to expose the hazel windows of her soul, to read his every facial expression, the posture of his stance, the tension and shifting of muscles beneath the smooth pelt of his skin. With rapture she regarded the motion of his lips as they curved around each word like a caress, the wave of his tongue, the way his teeth fit together and felt her body thrill to its very core.
He drew her close, a wave of appreciation, love and delight flooding through her slender body as his lips pressed below her hair line with a tenderness that made her want to melt. Her arm lifted, bending at the small curve of her elbow to lay flat her forearm against the wall of his chest. Soft, supplicating hand kissing palm against his pectoral muscles while finger tips lay teasingly blow the line of his collar bone. Her other arm curved around his waist, enjoying the way her small frame tucked so wonderfully against his side, as if they were matching puzzle pieces.
The reward of his smile was more than enough and its presence brought joyous tears to her eyes, making them sparkle with life. " I am most happy to have pleased you so, Master, " she'd answer in earnest, bowing her dark head to graze his bicep with a tender caress from the tip of her nose. " it is the duty of a slave girl to know the desires and needs of her Master, that she may better serve Him without needing his constant command."
She felt his eyes drop to her mouth, inciting her to raise her lips for his tasting pleasure. As always, she felt his energy enter through his kiss, sweeping like an electrical current throughout her being. An exchange of healing auras passing between them in ways unable to be explained to those who were not awakened within. Outlanders would never understand, that even separated, just reading words from him or envisioning him would energize her like no amount of food, water or exercise ever could. She savored his kiss, nibbling submissively, pinching the flesh lightly between her small teeth and licking at the crease separating the mountain peaks from the flat solid plain.
To have made him happy, and provide him pleasure in any way she could, that was her whole life's work. She desired to be a gift unto him like no other, that she always be worthy of the chain at the foot of his bed. " then I am pleased because I have pleased you Master."
Seamlessly following the guide of his body, as if somehow they had become a single entity in the short time that he had pressed her to his side, to feel the supple curve of her breast against the hard lines of his torso. That he was taking the time to indulge himself with her, pleased her to her core, though she knew even when they weren't together she was making him happy simply by being His.
With the eagerness only a kajira, or his perfect Inisfree girls, could exhibit she settled onto the throne of his lap. Milky thighs pressing softly at his hips, as she rested her crossed wrists at the small of her back so that he could explore what was his without interference. Matching her breathing evenly with his, to align their heart beats and for a small measure of time become one.
" yes Master, that is why I was trying so desperately to reach you, to bring you something pleasing that would restore you instead of drain you." Silken inner muscles squeezed reflexively every time she felt his erection tap/brush/rub against her, her love oils starting to bead along the pink vibrant flesh of her sex. Her hair smelled of fresh rain falling on scorching hot soil, her neck was perfumed ever so subtly with jasmine, the soft undersides of her wrists with fresh mint. Her naval she had lightly perfumed with a heady musk meant to draw him, the scent so faint he would have to press his face against her to get a deep smell of it. The curves of her waist had been dusted with a soft cadence of roses and along her back a trail had been created with little dots of sandalwood that led to the dimples of her lower back. Her thighs she peppered with lotus flower scent, the backs of her knees with dots of lavender and her calves she dressed in the scent of sweet grass.
" I will always be here when you have need of me, Master. Ready and willing to help in whatever manner I can." Her hands lifted, cupping either side of his face as he feasted upon her flesh, her chest leaning fervently forward as she raised her chin, tilting her head back sending her dark hair falling in a soft waterfall that tickled and brushed against the tops of his knees. Her fingers pressed back into the strands of his hair, massaging his scalp as he caressed her slave's heat. She was alive in his arms but not in the way most would understand it because to the untrained eye she hardly seemed to move at all. Her flesh would tremor at his smallest touch, the caress of his breath causing lashes to flutter against soft blush glowing cheeks, her eyes seeming to be lit from within as if a flame had been kindled within her very being. Toes shifted and curled, her pulse leaped within her throat and her weight shifted ever so minutely to bring her closer to his swollen member.
When his kisses were finished and his fingers continued their slow dallying trace, she would cup his face once more and draw it up towards hers coaxingly. If he obliged, she'd gaze into his eyes letting him view the deep full hearted love she had for him. Straightening herself, as she drew him close that her nipples brushed against his flesh, her face above his letting her lips hover a millimeter over his. She'd moan ever so softly, the sound broken intermittently with raspy whispering breath that spilled into his mouth in an erotic exchange of breath. Finger tips lightly fanned across the sides of his face, caressing his temples as she moved them in slow mesmerizing nuzzling motions against him but without ever touching their faces together. " I love you," she'd speak into his mouth, letting him taste and feel the words as he desired to.
Releasing her hold to let him return to whatever feasts of her he would have, she closed her eyes, trailing a hand down his chest to rest over the place of his heart and feel the strong beat of it beneath the kiss of her palm. " I think we should have more buildings like these, of different animals; they are beautiful and inspiring to look upon. I can't even imagine what the insides would make one feel like; to sleep within such a creation. "
These moments were what she most savored, of being pressed skin to skin against the man who held complete and utter dominion over every aspect of her being. With a single look he could bring her to orgasm and even control the power of it with subtle shifts of his facial features. To have him touch her was a bliss that she dared not put into words because to try seemed an inexcusable offensive to its very nature. She always treated his attention as a gift, knowing full well that he could have any of his beautiful Inisfreeans but was choosing to have her for the moment.
The satin head of his erection raised to kiss against the silken curtains of her body's temple, parting them to press past into the arch way where he was welcomed and painted with a kajira's ambrosia. The platform of his thighs relaxing ever so slowly, lowering her enough that he penetrated into her ante-chamber and thus the corona glans and neck of his arousal was joyously embraced, as a Master is erotically clutched by a kajira after a lengthy time away. Her pelvic floor lifted to press him masterfully against the spongy, ribbed pleasure strip that he might stroke and arouse it while passing into the main chamber of her paga hot sex.
The press of his hand at her dimples had tingles of pleasure dancing across her peach soft butt cheeks, while the hand at her belly caused delicious ribbons of sensation to spiral throughout her being. Her lips met his with sweet adoration, molding themselves to his tastes and desires to always provide the most erotic of touches and sensations.
A delighted gasp was called from her lips as his mouth feasted upon the exposed fruits of her chest, her wrists submissive in his iron hold as he brought them behind her back. The helplessness of this position was impressed upon her, while his fingers molded and massaged those high, pale, pendant globes with their pink dew drop nipples. Her kegels clamped around the thick girth of his erection in milking, as his tongue sent spikes of euphoria striking through her with every lash against the sensitive buds.
While an Outlander would have given into the harsh, rude rutting that they were programmed to enjoy, Sarah continued with her minuscule motions. Her body was a subtly shifting phenomena, each movement blending seamlessly into the next and yet to the untrained eye she barely seemed to be moving at all. If one not of Inisfree were to come in, they would see only a girl upon a man's lap, panting softly and being highly aroused for no reason they could see. A sensuous moan spilled from her lips as he bound her wrists behind her again, a hand within her hair and upon her throat forcing her to gaze upon the sparkling chandelier above them, it's light catching and winking within the pools of her eyes. His finger in her mouth was met with the caress of her tongue, the blunt flats of her teeth nipping suggestively while he maneuvered her face to be gazing at him once more. " yes, Master"
The flexing of his cock brought her temple walls to shiver and contract in quick succession against him with excitement, weeping more of her ambrosia that he might feel it start to coat and bath him to the point of trickling down his velvet sac so heavy with seed. Her body leaned towards him, keeping a millimeters barrier of space between their heated skin. Tilting her head in submissive manner, exposing the delicious lines of her neck giving way to the soft plain of her collar bone and shoulder, she would hover her mouth in the path of his exhales that she might inhale them deeply within herself. Her hips began to tremble as she shivered her muscles as sensuously as a belly dancer, vibrating herself upon him as his hands rubbed their pleasure circles across the canvas of milky pelt. Fingers flexed and clawed at the air though her wrists never broke from the invisible bonds he had placed them in.
With the pinnacle of her pleasure on the horizon, she began to kiss at the corner of his mouth, sweeping her tongue along its crease, submissively seeking to pry and kiss his lips apart that she might be rewarded with a mating of their tongues, that he be inside and filling her in more places than one. Back muscles rippled and shifted to slowly shift his hand from caressing her dimples towards the valley splitting her bubble rounded cheeks perched so preciously upon his thigh. Her hips shimmying to pin their suppleness aside that his fingers might tickle and trace towards the sweet puckered center of her ass and earn the insertion of curling digit that would send her into full spiral of a complete and total slave orgasm with every hole filled with him.
"please Master, will you fuck your girl?" she purred in that perfect, sexy tone he had trained her to speak in. She wanted to feel the iron clamp of his hands rough upon her flesh, commanding and uncompromising in his demands.
Just as precise and minuscule were his own shifts and flexes that no one save his Inisfreeans and this chosen girl sitting upon his lap would ever notice them, for while Outlanders merely 'go through the motions', mindlessly regurgitating whatever they are told or assume, and doing so until it becomes all but vestigial (and Fully vestigial in many cases), in great contrast, an Inisfreean's every move, thought, and projection is an intentional orchestration of all things universally sexy and satisfying. The King who had envisioned and taught all of these tens of thousands of techniques and combinations to sextillions of his children, the Inisfreeans who were engineered and sung into existence over pedestals, born perfect for eternal, flawless sex, was now upon this slave girl who had come to him from the Outlands; the rarest of delicate flowers found in the most unlikely of places, and clamped within the feral, unyielding grasp of the vice grip of a man who'd become her Master and a god. He took his time with her. He would have all of her that he wanted, and what he wanted was her all.
No answer was given to her question; none verbal, anyway. Instead, he took to even more teasing and tormenting of the parts of her body which her little motions, hints, indicators, and language of coded messages were pleading with him to pay closer attention to, penetrate, and remain within. He would leave her a hot mess before he gave in to either of their needs. Her orgasm would be a screaming convulsion long after the hour of their first union here. A dozen times and more, he tricked her into kisses and matings and penetrations that never happened. Each time she melded to him, craning her neck or arching her back or relaxing her asshole, he slipped and leaned back away, tending to wholly different areas and leaving her wanting and with a growing and maddening frustration. Each spot of her body, he knew how to make an erogenous zone, but every time his touches and stirrings of her energies brought her right to the threshold of orgasm and the sweet, collapsing release which would surely follow... he stopped, triggering just as many surges of her Negative energies and emotion spikes, as well.
Once, when she was getting exceptionally antsy, he slapped her hard across her face, leaving a red mark on her left cheek, and would have whipped her into tears and near the brink of losing consciousness if for one split second he had sensed that her wrists crossed behind her back had parted from each other. Such was the totality of her required discipline, self control, and surrender. Such was what kept his love and lust for her equally total in these moments they had time to spend together.
He made her sit there on him like that for an hour, keeping her helpless to do anything but flex her sex around his cock as its dew dripped all the way down his shaft and collected on his slowly shifting balls rubbing and tickling their way around between her thighs and asscheeks. She could see and smell and hear him, but only her seat and slit could feel him, with the rare exceptions being when he chose to pet and suck on her. Taste was denied to her until she lost her mind, and she knew from fucking him before... that when she lost it, though he would appreciate this further surrender to all he was, that she would still be punished for it. Such was the harmony of a slave and her Master. Without her punishments, even for her very nature, she would not be as appealing to him, and neither of them would be able to climax nearly as hard.
It took him two hours of this constant, grueling, trembling workout and exercise in emotional struggling of hers before he granted her penetration, and it was as swift and thorough as his wrath had been in his military campaigns across the Outlands and the Black Ocean; the void of Space. All at once, he bounced her high on his lap, his cock's tip almost leaving her, and thrust it all the way up into her with a single flex as her body's weight was tugged back down all around it by the force of gravity, her ass-length mop of hair bouncing and separating its locks and curls in that same shocking moment when his middle finger darted its way up inside her asshole, no longer caressing the full length of her crack, and his fingers now hooked, all together, into her lips, holding her jaw with his thumb under her chin for extra control.
NOW the REAL fucking began, in the second hour of their painfully slow foreplaying, and all three of her holes were stuffed as he began to work his deepest magics upon her. She would be expected to lick between his fingers, even as they threatened to clamp down around her jaw and hurt her even more, responding to all the pain he gave her with reciprocation of more and more pleasure and agreement to him and all he chose for her. "Groan for me," he rumbled to her, almost growling through his teeth at her. "Cry for me. Let the tears stream down from your eyes and make my cock swell that much harder for you. Lose your mind and writhe your slave dance upon me, showing me how desperate and needy you are. Hold Nothing back. Show me with your very soul I Am Your Master."
His fingers in her mouth and asshole would continue to distract and milk her as she did so. This would be her latest test, and it would be a brutal one. That much, she had earned. What nearly all other beings had been rejected for and scoffed at when they attempted, she was now awarded... provided she remained the perfect slave slut he had been pleased to find in her.
Oh the delicious frustrations that her worked in her, the tormenting pleasures of avoiding the places that seemed to need him most building her to climactic heights she had never known until Him. The reactions he provoked within her were what Outlanders would perceive as violent, all consuming and dangerous. Yet throughout the straining temptations of her pleasure stressed body, she never broke position though her hands flexed and strained against the invisible bonds he had placed her in.
He was ruthless in his persistence to drive her into the stars, to create a cosmic union that transcended the physical and brought them into the realm of magic. With desperation to earn his pleasure, she squeezed and clutched her sex around him, pulsing and shivering, pressing and subtly wiggling with the need to feel his hot seed pouring deeply into the confines of her hot little body.
" oh please." she'd beg with tears in her eyes, wetted lips quivering as nervous system struggled with the in surge of sensation and emotional manipulation. " please Master, please..I beg you..let me yield." Heart racing, skin heating and shimmering with thin coating of sweat. Toes arrowed towards the floor as thigh muscles flexed to slide her, even minimally, up and down that thick erection he had buried in her sexy little hairless slit. She'd lose control. Pleasure peals echoing off the various book burdened shelves, as Sarah was ravaged by the first of her slave orgasms, a gushing torrent that stole her breath and had stars exploding with rapture before her very eyes. Tears streamed down the rounds of her flawless cheeks, pouring out in a show of love and shock. This was hardly the end. She knew he had purposely made her break, and knew she would be punished for it at his convenience. She mewled helplessly at his touch, she couldn't help herself but it would never matter because this is what he desired and she loved him that he was strong enough to do her this justice.
Just like that, he decided he'd toyed with her enough and with all the violence and thoroughness of a God King, he bounced her and penetrated her everywhere. The sudden euphoria of it nearly had her breaking down into a second orgasm, as fired up and sensitive as she was, it wasn't hard to build her into more powerful delights that would leave others dull eyed and drooling fools. Sarah only seemed to become brighter, as brilliant as the sun as she exposed every helpless piece of herself for his total dominance and control. She'd display every emotional color known to Inisfree, her body dancing to every sensation he deigned to give her.
Pink eeling tongue darted, swiped and lapped submissively against and between his invading fingers. Fear, pain and pleasure coloring the vibrations of her moans against the clamp of his hand. His command was terrifying but she obeyed all the same, exposing herself to him in complete surrender to his Mastery. She would groan deeply, the sound seeming to come from the depths of her fire-lit belly while tear-weeping eyes begged for him to be kind. Like a blooming flower unfurling its petals toward the sun's beams, she revealed the truth of herself to him. It no longer mattered that she would be whipped for her actions, that she could possibly be seen as nothing more than a depraved slave slut in the arms of her Master.
Unfastening her wrists from behind her back, she began to touch him without restraint. Showering him with licking, hungry, placating and begging kisses ( at least as much as his invading fingers allowed) that would drive a lesser man to weakness and explosion. Teeth bit into his flesh with the frustrations of her arousal, nails raking red lines down the thick corded muscles and leaving half-moon indents while massaging them away in the same turn. If he flung her away now, she knew she would go mad, girls in her state had been known to break bones in order to touch him. She offered everything of herself to him, squirming and writhing the dance of the love-starved slave girl upon his lap. " find me pleasing Master, please find me pleasing" she'd beg, her tears dripping onto both of their bodies and trickling steaming lines down their gyrating flesh.
The way she begged him, the way she quietly cried and let her tears drip down from her cheeks, the way she writhed upon him and bit at him followed by the perfect amount of tender loving care to soothe it all back away, the way she asked for permission but failed to hold her own orgasm inside her long enough to receive it; these were the things which made him see that she was truly the one for him; the best of all the other girls whom his kind had extracted from the now-ashen remains of the otherwise grotesque and shameful Outlands. But she had not managed to control herself, and that did in deed mean she must accordingly be whipped. It was cute and adorable and maddeningly erotic, supremely satisfying to him, how she had done all she'd just done for and with him, but she was a slave, and it would serve nor sate Either of them to let her failures, regardless of how sexy they were, go unaccounted for.
"I find you pleasing," he finally rumbled a brief reassurance to her, "and all you have done is remarkably compatible with me and all I am and am working toward here," he added, pausing to let her sense the foreboding tone woven in between the lines there, "but you must be punished for asking permission, then failing to wait for that permission to be granted." He kissed her lips deeply; enough to make her forget even the threat and promise of what he'd just said; enough to make her feel as if she was floating on a warm cloud somewhere in the middle of Heaven, and he took his time in that special place in her mind there with her, standing with her in his arms and holding her so closely and intimately like that, knowing her, inside and out, and having taken and had her just as he'd wanted to. "Come, Sarah," he said, granting her the familiar sound of her Outlands name while he took her little hand in his larger, stronger one, and led her over to one of the grooved, cylindrical prisms which stood as one of the numerous, ten-story pillars at intervals along the inside perimeter of his great library, as well as at intervals beneath its balcony five floors above their own.
The way he placed her hands up to the sides of that great pillar was so gentle, calm, and loving, and he kissed the backs of her hands, and her fingertips, and the outsides of her upper arms, further reassuring her that all would be alright after this was over; that he wouldn't whip her Too hard; just enough to be a fair, firm, uncompromising Master responding proportionally to her offense which, all things considered, she had greatly made up for alReady with how she had turned him on and gotten him off so Very, Very much. She was gifted at it; a natural; born to be a slave girl, hard-wired to be a submissive --His submissive; one of the only kajirae in Creation amazing enough to be owned by a King --by a God.
"I'm going to whip you now, slave girl," he said, again with that incredible warmth, so approachable and easy to bask in, as if his words were like honey and the rays of the sun, even when they spoke of little nightmares soon to come. "Just try to relax and accept it. You know you have done a very good job, and you and I both know you will only get better and better at it." He walked several paces back away from her. She was now bound tightly to the pillar with her arms hugging halfway around its wide girth, and her legs wide open, her ankles being shackled tightly to its sides. Her breasts were squished against its grooves, which were too small for them, and her back and ass were fully exposed, vulnerable as ever to whatever he might do to them. Wherever he wanted to hit or otherwise strike her, nothing at all she might do now could ever stop him.
He let her hear him flexing the taut, black leather of the coiled whip one of his Inisfreean girls had politely handed him, then he let her hear him let it uncoil and fall to the floor at his side, and then he let her hear it fly through the air a few times before he sent it flicking her way, leaving its first mark all the way down her back and one of her asscheeks, popping viciously like the report of a bullet cracking by through the broken air, giving her as much a start with its loud noise as the searing, stinging pain of its kiss left diagonally down her hide. It clung to her for a second before he yanked it up and back off and away from her, and he stood there for a few seconds, waiting for her to cry.
The whip fell upon her back again, just as hard, and was tugged back up and off away from her just as quickly. Her Master walked back up to her side and put that tiny sliver of fabric he had once given her to wash... into her mouth, like a sock, as a gag. "Bite down on this, Sarah," he allowed her to hear the familiarity of her name again, and how much he loved her in his voice, though he was not at all shaken by what he was doing to her or how awful it clearly felt to her. "It will ease the pain as you get used to this form of punishment." He walked back away from her, leaving her to keep the sock in her mouth; if she cried out again, and it fell from her bite, he would not return it to her mouth for her; she would be left to hang limp from her shackles around the towering, wide column, being whipped one extra time for failing to maintain control of the gift he had given her.
Again, the whip struck and gripped her flesh, leaving its third pink mark upon her; a line which began to raise and turn red. She received five nearly maddening lashes from that corrections device before he left her alone to shudder and sob and finally breathe again. Unlocking her shackles, he freed her from the massive pillar beneath the edge of his mansion's library's fifth-story balcony, and let her collapse into his arms. Sweeping her up off her feet and carrying her cradled like a little baby, he returned to his vast desk and sat back down in his throne of an armchair with her still in his embrace like that. "Everything you just did was senSationally sexy, my slave girl," he told her, helping her to sit back up and recompose herself, as she would need to get used to that -and very good at it- if she was to remain with him, which he knew she knew they both wanted and hoped for. "Now you will have better control of yourself next time, and won't take something before you are given permission to." Again, there was no anger in his voice at all; he was a serene lake, still and clear as a mirror, simply imparting a lesson upon one of his favored students.
He was done with her. She had served her purpose well enough to live another day --what's more, as his First Girl, no less. Taking her from his lap, he snapped his fingers for her to drop to her knees at the side of his desk, throne, and leg. Once there, by a small length of thick chain, he locked her slave collar to one of the heavy metal rings bolted to side of the desk, put her face between his legs as he sat back down on his throne of an armchair, and pressed his cock all the way into her throat to signal her to begin her next assignment which would end, perhaps, in another hour or two. Even if she did well --even if she did perfectly-- he might still punish her on a whim, just because she was his property; his First Girl, and he found her sexy even when she was crying and receiving pain. That meant she received more attention than the others did; positive, negative, or neutral, Sarah Conrad would have more than any other kajira's fair share.
Returning to the work on his desk, he allowed her to be the girl pleasing him for the remainder of his hours in this massive library and study of his private estate. As dozens of other girls came in, mostly Inisfreeans who sometimes led other kajirae as their prisoners or assistants, he addressed the various matters they humbly brought, at his command, to his desk and attention. Some of them took Sarah by her hair and moved her out of the way, stopping her from deepthroating his cock, and rode him until he came inside them, often at least once in each of their three main holes, and then took her by her hair and put her face back down to resume swallowing his cock --and the dew of their pussies and other orifices right along with it. There was no jealousy or hatred, nor any condescension when they did this to her. Rather, their touches were surprisingly casual and even loving, rough and heartless though they sometimes outwardly appeared. Sarah would be able to feel and sense the difference.
There were few honors in all of Creation that could hold a candle to this great one; to be the girl deemed acceptable and smart enough to remain pleasing, arousing, and satisfying while some of the most important administrative work in Inisfree was being completed. Her extreme skills and sensationally compatible essence allowed him to focus, helped him to think more clearly, and kept his energy from boiling into a supernova of rage at key times when vast realms across the reunited Multiverse depended upon it. Her innate talents and destiny as a slave slut were helping, probably more than she knew, to stabilize not only The realm, but All realms. Such is the importance of the beauty, sexiness, and sexuality of a kajira, ...and Kajira 1, First Girl, even more so.
At the end of his many hours in that tall library and study, he rose from his throne, his cock sliding up out of her throat and mouth, its tip now fully wanting of the whole length of her tongue, and he walked away without a word of thanks, leaving her there to attempt to sleep, still chained to the side of his desk such that she would not be able to lie down on the floor; with her pussy and asshole still leaking out the many large spurts of his cum, and her mouth, throat, and stomach coated with many more of these spurts, as well as the pussy juices, saliva, and other fluids and liquids of the many Inisfreean and Outlander girls who he had had right in front of her, she was honored and left with a newfound inner peace to enjoy being entrusted with all that time and energy and the most special and coveted of places; where his feet occupied the floor that was to become her bed for the night... while countless other girls were kept elsewhere across his city in kennels, nude, cold, hungry, wet from fire-hose showers, and left to turn to each other for warmth through the unbreakable metal bars.
She would be able to sense very clearly that he had enjoyed himself Thoroughly the entire time because of her sucking his cock like that, and though she hadn't been able to see it, what with her face kept buried in his groin all the while, he had on many occasions just closed his eyes and breathed more slowly as her expert oral work left his feet and legs relaxing into warm numbness. He had lost count of how many times she had earned his cum loads flowing down her tongue to be drained into her throat and stomach. Her Master, the ultimate perfectionist, had finally been pleased, and she was to blame. Her studies had paid off --in a body jam-packed with his cum.
The collar weighed heavily around the slender tower of her ivory throat, more so than any other kajira's within the city; yet there was no physical difference to be seen between her collar and that of any other girl's. To be the love slave of a God King was a great honor, but it was also the strongest and deepest of slaveries that girl could ever attain. No chains would ever hold her more tightly, no mark or collar could render her more slave, than the invisible bonds of her love for him.
While part of her desired to avoid the kiss of the whip, she knew that he was not so weak as to let it slide, thus she did not try to escape her fate. Clutching to the pillar, her lips quivered and her breath escaped in shallow pants though her body remained soft and inviting as always. Tension sunk like a stone in her belly, her fingers pressing into the pillar, her nipples teased by the artfully carved stone, her pleasure-swollen clit straining to rub against a groove but always it was just shy of touching.
" Yes, Master," she'd murmur, unable to see him as her cheek rested against the column, her dark hair swept over the slender curve of her shoulder to keep it from getting in the way of the lash. Perhaps what was more devastating than the strikes themselves, was the mental torture he made her experience. Letting her hear the uncoiling whip which made her body straighten in response. The false cracks making her jerk as if he had struck her, tears beginning to sparkle within the depths of her eyes as fear lanced through her and made her strain against the restraints. Every nerve ending was on fire by the time the first strike fell across her back, making her scream and ball her little hands into fists. She began to weep as he waited for the lash to sink in, for it to work its corrective magics upon his pretty, helpless, cock throbbing little slut of a slave girl.
The wad of fabric stuffed within her mouth was held clenched between her small little teeth; she did not drop it but screamed her pain into it. Tears spilled freely down her face, her emotions so easily manipulated by him...so easily hurt, brought to love, lust, fear...whatever he wanted...he could bring out in her with a imperceptive deftness that none but Inisfree could understand.
Within his arms, she soaked up his love, basking in his embrace and recovering from the biting lash of the whip which had imparted her with an enduring lesson...do not take things before they are given...even her own orgasms and very nature were under his incredible rule. " Yes, Master, thank you for this lesson," she'd murmur, drying her eyes.
Beneath his desk, she worshiped his cock with tender licks, suckles, nips and deep throating. Sometimes as the other girls rode him, she would lick at the base of his cock and against the spread lips of the girl's pussy, others she would set to work on bringing pleasure to his legs and feet. If the girls were sucking his cock, she would fondle them, threading her fingers in and out of their juicy little holes until either they came or he came... Often times it was both. Sometimes she would simply rest, kneeling as a pleasure slave. It all depended upon the wishes she felt within her Master and his glamorous girls of Inisfree; she lived to serve, to please, to earn her place here among them and their love. When the girls were finished, her mouth was set back to work that her Master's cock never be without a hot girl for long. Sometimes they coaxed and petted her into place, sometimes they just dragged her back the way they had removed her, other times she would resist just to feel the commanding press of their fingers sizzling against her nerves... Whatever she felt would most please them, she would do.
When all was said and done, as he left for the night and kept her chained at his desk upon the floor...a most content and satisfied smile would curve the corners of her lips. He would never say thank you, he didn't need to, she could feel his love within the vibrations of the very air she breathed. Tongue sweeping over the line of her teeth, collecting the last remaining dew drops of cum left upon them to her already full belly. Sweet hazel eyes drifting down to gaze at her flushed body, cum still steaming against her plush inner thighs and oozing upon the floor with every subtle shift of her body. By morning she would be knelt within a dried, sticky pool of pleasure fluids but she didn't care because she had made him happy and had felt his cum being throbbed into her body with his explosive ecstasy that always left her breathless and seeing stars. The chain did not allow for her to lay upon the floor, but it didn't seem to bother her, as she settled upon her knees and spread her thighs cock-throbbingly wide. Leaning her head back against the desk, she closed her eyes whispering " i love you, Master." before drifting off to sleep.
First-born Wakes First Girl:
It was Nyria who came in to unlock Sarah from her heavy slave ring on the side of their Godking's desk. She helped Sarah to her feet and held her hand as she walked with her to a massage table where Sarah was laid down on her front, a ring of towels around her face and breasts so they wouldn't be pressed to the table's padding, and caressed into a spread-eagle position. "We're all very impressed with you, Sarah," she softly and honestly told the teenage girl they'd chosen from the realm outside their city. Nyria began to expertly apply the ointments and oils, then the trickles of warm water from a sponge, her soothing and deeply loving aura, and the chromotherapy from the slowly color-changing lights of her eyes and the fixtures over the table, ensuring Sarah's body healed within hours instead of weeks. "You are one of the loveliest girls we've ever come across," the double entendre was intentional, as per the Inisfreean custom of ever being flirty and silkenly sly.
Once the massage of Sarah's body, mind, and spirit was complete, and her swollen whipping lines were reduced significantly, Nyria helped her back up from the padded table and took her hand again, giving her a kiss on her lips for a few seconds before walking the little kajira out through the adjacent and towering hallway of the number one mansion in Inisfree, then through the vast rear dining room; a rectangular enclosure as large as the library, and with two wide jacuzzis as bowls down into the floor, to the mansion's equally massive, wood paneled kitchen where a dozen other kajirae helped their Inisfreean Master Females prepare the healthiest, freshest, and most delicious of all imaginable breakfasts. While the kajirae were laid down on their backs on silver and gold serving platters, then decorated with the gourmet morsels of food, and carried out by four kajirae a piece, every single one of them tiny and nude and jawdroppingly gorgeous and confident, Sarah was escorted, hand in hand, by Nyria, right up to the one man who sat relaxing in the breakfast room, looking out through its two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows.
"The King has sent for you by name," Nyria softly smiled to her as they approached his side, and as she gave Sarah's hand a little squeeze, he turned his head and smiled when he saw her.
"My Lord," Nyria made the handoff, "may I present Sarah Conrad, as per your command."
He opened one of his arms, that Sarah take her seat snuggled right up by his side, and proceeded to hand-feed her, sometimes pausing in his breakfasting to kiss her forehead and fingertips, enjoying the sight and feel of every part of her body again, just as he always had since first he'd been united with her.
He sat with her like that for an hour, just watching the sunrise with her alone at his side, as dozens of other kajirae breakfasted around them, lounging on colorful mats and piles of pillows, always careful to remain below their field of view, never obstructing their lines of sight with the sweeping Inisfreean vistas of the sparkling lake and lush mountain ridges miles out through the windows before them. The King handed Sarah a diamond chalice, nodding once to her that she was permitted to hold it and drink from it on her own; a major compliment and step forward for her.
After several minutes of quiet breakfasting, his voice smoothly rumbled to her, "I Really like the way you screamed and cried and tried to touch your pussy to that pillar in my library when I was whipping you." His eyes were faintly smiling, full of pleasing nostalgia. "You have a real gift for making everything you do sexy, Sarah," he watched her wet lips as she sipped from her drink. "I'm going to enjoy whipping you again sometime, ...but not for a while," he added; "for a few weeks, I just want you to heal up and relax. I want your back all restored and beautiful again so I have a fresh, blank canvas to work my licks upon."
After he'd had her snuggle up at his side for breakfast, he took her hand and led her to one of the grooved columns at the side of their breakfast room, shackled her to it the same way she'd been around the one in the library, and had dozens of the kajirae and Master Females in there with them caress her all over her body as they took turns eating her out from behind. She wouldn't be able to see any of them at work at this, and he surprised her when he slid his cock up into her from behind, just as much out of her field of view, and pumped her to her core until he came in her, leaving her chained standing up hugging that pillar for all the other girls to enjoy viewing for a few minutes, then switching to her asshole and pumping his cum into it, too, letting her see only the Antarctic sunrise over the distant Inisfreean terrain across their lake the whole time while she was fucked and filled and refilled and used up by him and all the girls he pointed her way.
"There will come days and nights, Sarah," he rumbled his warm breath into her ear, "when I whip you just to see your maddeningly sexy crying again, and fuck you immediately after whipping you raw, and leave you standing there all night, chained to your pillar, so that you are exhausted by the time I wake up that next morning, ensuring you pass out while I fuck you again before unshackling you, ensuring you reMain passed out while I cum in you some more in my bed," he slowly inched his cock back out of her asshole, making her body frustrated for him to thrust it back in in one quick motion, which he denied her. "Pray for those sweet moments."
Stepping back away from her, Nyria returned and placed her warm palm up against Sarah's apex, ensuring most of their King's cum remained inside Sarah's pussy and asshole. As she held her hand there, keeping that cum trapped within Sarah, she kissed Sarah's lips very tenderly for a full minute before Sarah was freed from her shackles around the great pillar and hurried back over to heel her King. The entire time she'd been bound, all the other girls had been very thoughtful and careful not to touch her still healing wounds, only very, very lightly kissing and gently blowing cool air from their lips upon those pink lash marks crisscrossing down her back. They all loved her with all their hearts. In Inisfree, girls compete for the position of -and right to fuck- the First Girl, Kajira 1, but are never jealous or spiteful of the girls that get to that position. Instead, all it does is make them love and admire and desire those gifted and privileged girls all the more. Sarah was becoming one of the most prized sex objects in all of Inisfree.
From the depths of a dream world, Sarah rose like a diver stroking for the surface, relaxed and unhurried, to consciousness. Her eyes focused upon the backs of her lids, keeping her lashes kissing to the rounds of her cheeks. Breathing remained slow and even, envisioning each limb, muscle and cell casting off the threads of sleep to awaken for the day. That is how Nyria would find Kajira 1, within this meditative state, though her sweet hazel pools revealed themselves at the touch of Nyria's loving aura long before physical contact was made.
The soft clink of metal links made her aware that she was now freed, and happily accepted the help to rise. The searing red lashes upon her back where the only complaints of pain in her youthful body, a reminder of the lesson she had been taught. The tender care she was given always made her heart swell and pussy to bead with love oils as her body mended in tingling energized manner. Beneath Nyria's administrations, she'd drift into orgasm moaning lowly as the soft pulses of pleasure radiated through finger tips and toes, the euphoric feeling lasting for the duration of Nyria's application; a continuous, subtle and gentle episode that most Outlanders could never achieve. " Thank you, Mistress." Words spoken in open love and affection. " I live to serve and please."
Fingers threaded easily between Nyria's, squeezing softly as palm kissed to palm. Breaths exchanged, lips mating as for those few seconds Sarah lifted a hand to trail fingers ticklingly and admiringly down the girl's side. Finger tips brushed the soft side of a breast, trailing down ribs towards the flare of her hip. Bodies inched towards one another to touch breast to breast, nipples excitingly meeting over quivering flat bellies leading down to cute little slits. Just as it started it ended, and quietly Sarah followed Nyria's lead as sexily submissive as ever in her motions.
Heart fluttered within the small cage of her chest, pulse seen to quicken above the delicate drape of her collar as her eyes rested upon her beloved Master. There was a deep love for everyone in Inisfree within her heart, but there was a special place that he resided in, raised above the rest. He had sent for her by name, a very high complement paid to her and its significance was not lost upon her. The loving squeeze returned to Nyria, a soft bow of her head given towards the Inisfreean girl as she departed.
At his gesture, Sarah stepped elegantly forward and pressed into the space that she was perfectly carved for. Lips caressed his fingertips as small teeth accepted the morsels he offered her, sometimes only using her teeth to neatly nip the food from him with a gentle blow of her breath, other times parting her mouth enough for him to press the food between her jaws with his thumb that her tongue might swirl around it in caress.
The beautiful chalice was cupped sweetly between her small hands, cradling it as if it were a most precious gift. When it was not being drunk from, it was being cuddled to her chest save for the times when she needed her hands to please him.
Bathed in the glimmering cadence of the day's first light, Sarah softly shifted the lay of her thighs, draping her slender ankles pleasingly along the cushions and exposing the soft, pliant curves of her calves. Listening to the King's compliments which made her spirit soar, extending beyond herself to clasp him in the ethereal realm with joyous pleasure. From beneath cocoa lashes, she regarded him in wonderment and desire, playing her fingers down the center of his chiseled chest. " I endeavor always to please and inspire, though strangely enough, Master, what usually works best is what comes from my heart." The news about his desire to lash her brought pulse to throb within her throat, eyes dilating with the memory of the stinging lash, the pain it had brought along with the warm afterburn.
With reverent touches, she caressed and nuzzled him, not just enjoying the banquet of food but the banquet of sensations surrounding them as well. The pleasant sounds of the girls all around them, the sound of his breath, the feel of his skin searing against her own, the way his chest drew breath making her lift and fall in rhythm with its tides. From the stunning view before her eyes, to the way the cushions felt beneath her small naked frame, all was drunk in and savored as if she would never get the chance to again. Such was her love of him and Inisfree.
Soon he had finished, and with the guide of his touch, she followed him towards the grooved column. Sex pot lips parted with inhalation as she pressed against the grooved stone, her hands extending to clutch at it wantonly while her wrists and ankles were shackled into place. Helpless once more, movement restricted and her eyes only able to view the breathtaking landscape, she moaned, rasping her nails against the stone. They began to touch her, causing Sarah to sigh and arch against the column she hugged. Hazel pools grew heavy lidded and dark with the expanding of her pupils, color rushing into her cheeks as nipples and clit were rushed with blood and swelled into ripe little berries.
She didn't know who touched her, whose breath lanced against her heat peppering it with mist and chills. She didn't know whose fingers tickled the tender backs of her calves, or clasped her ankles pressing thumbs into pleasure points that had ecstasy ribbons sprouting throughout her limbs. As desired, she would fight the sensations of those that desired her helpless struggles, feigning disinterest and encouraging a roughness that had every nerve ending singing with delight. To those she felt wanted it, she'd submit to the intensities they cared to visit upon her pliant frame, crying out to the rafters as she was brought to slave orgasm again and again.
Sarah leapt and danced against the pillar as much as her bindings allowed, feeling her skin being indented and marked by the grooves of the stone. Sarah's hips gyrated against the air in the precious seconds of one mouth's abandonment and another's taking its place. As the King partook of her vivacious body, Sarah cried out to the heavens. By the time she felt his cock throbbing its relief inside her, she dangled slack against her restraints. Clutching inner muscles to hold his seed deep within her, she took the small time of reprieve to recollect herself. Already eyes were foggy with the ecstasy they visited upon her, tongue sweeping out across her bow shaped lips in hunger of kisses she had so far been denied. Cheek nuzzled against the stone, her fingers lightly flexing in caress as if the massive column were one of them. Sweet soled feet shifted smoothly against cum dampened floor, the insides of her spread, quivering legs shimmering in the glowing cadence of the morning sun. Dark hair spilling in licking curls, like flames, down the expanse of her back, blanketing the angry red lines that the God King had marked her with. The King chose to rape his girl again, her rose bud relaxing and embracing him as he sought to fill her bowels with his neverending seed.
The mere heat in his words, drawing forth the most vivid of imageries into the forefront of her mind, almost spellbinding her into believing she was already there. Flesh tingled, toes curled, fingers clawed against stone as she arched and cried out with yet another quaking orgasm that left her seeing stars. As he pulled back, her body desperately tried to follow, though the shackles held her fast in place, frustrating her, bringing tears to sting at her eyes as she wrenched against the bindings with need to touch him. " oh please..I wish it and pray it already.." she'd beg.
Nyria was there, cupping her, helping her hold the gift of their God King's eruption within the depths of her body. Lips caressed lips in the most loving of ways as tears winked at the corners of the girl's eyes. The restraints were released, making her sigh with delight at having her limbs free to move once more. Without dislodging Nyria's hand, adjusting her gait for her as much as she had the God King the first time he had brought her to heel with his fingers thrust inside her sex, she would walk licentiously towards her Master. Body full blooded, sensuously curved and ripe with sex, so sensitive that even a certain gaze from him would send her quaking to the floor, slit weeping and thighs trembling in passion. Heeling him, she waited for whatever he had planned for her while envisioning being filled to bursting with his seed and having it coaxed and caressed from her by the Master Females and kajirae that would lie between her spread legs as if she were a living fount of cum, dappling their perfect bodies with pearly drops from the God King and her own orgasms.
First-born Escorts First Girl:
Nyria had adored the way Sarah touched and moved with her, falling into step alongside her just as much as her father, the King, and she would be one of Sarah's many guardian angels during her new life in Inisfree. The King, too, had deeply enjoyed the girl's instantly synchronizing nature, as if everything faded from her mind except the Inisfreeans she was paired with to please. Sarah really knew how to be a true female, energizing, cheering, supercharging, and satisfying all who came near her.
Smiling appreciatively at her touching plea for her next union with her Master to come now, rather than later, he answered her in letting his eyes move down for a moment before he pivoted on his heel and strode out of the tall and sunlit room. A few dozen of the girls eating their breakfasts on the various balconies tracing the walls of this room paused to watch him leave, gazing at him all starry-eyed as sexual fantasies raced through their minds, and hands and fingers heated and longed to reach out after him. From Sarah's position with Nyria on the ground floor, she could see them and the Titan-sized architecture and interior design which was all around them. The breakfast room's grooved pillars had Corinthian capstones so large that the entire 9th balcony of this room; its 10th open-air floor, only passed around their centers, the rest of them being both above and below it. A fountain near one corner was three stories tall; a series of raised, concentric bowls held up by statues of Inisfreean girls with one hand outstretched to hold food such as grapes draped upon it. The entire fountain with all its bowls and statues was carved from a single diamond the size of a house, and slowly rotated like a giant Lazy Susan in the center of a Round Table much like that of fabled Camelot. This was the Inisfreeans' idea of a buffet presentation. Diagonally across the ground floor of this luxurious breakfast room was a triple-decker, staircase-like construct holding three long steps of a row of large beanbag chairs a piece, with a fourth row of them on the floor in front of it, an aisle of walking space in front of each, and low, smooth railings made of diamond poles fitted into gleaming gold fittings. In front of it all, and serving as the scenic window for all of these balconies and other seating areas, was a curving corner wall more than a foot thick, rising 100 feet from floor to ceiling, with no panels or frame or seams, and more than a foot thick. Whatever it was, it was one of the biggest windows in all of Inisfree --and the entire world-- and was made of one of their clever materials vastly superior to glass in every way; it would never streak from handprints, it automatically shaded itself to prevent glare from exceptionally bright Antarctic days and nights during the summer season, and could deflect the blast of a nuclear weapon.
Nyria held Sarah's hand as the two of them left this first floor of the God King's private mansion and returned to her slave quarters miles away and far down and around the slope of Inisfree's central mountain. Her sexual frustration would be built up again as she waited to be called upon to service her Master. Fortunately for her, she would be well distracted (well eNough, anyway) with plenty of chores and other tasks each day until then.
As the days of her successive weeks in Inisfree progressed, Sarah was taught how to vacuum and shampoo carpets, and had to do this in her slave quarters to maintain her privilege of Having carpet. There were always alternatives, she now knew all too well; sleeping on cold concrete, or on the dirt under a vehicle, or in a cage too small to stand up all the way or lie Down all the way. Keeping a clean and tidy room always earned her and the other girls some creature comforts, while accidents and excuses, no matter how valid, always earned them more challenges, hardships, and spartan living conditions. What they didn't know at the time was that this was not merely a system of merits, demerits, and punishments, but a form of prep school for what remained hidden in the schedule of their weeks to come; Sarah and the other girls taken from the Outlands were being toughened up for much more demanding training due to how much potential and promise they had shown their Inisfreean masters.
One girl was whipped for saying she "had" to go pee --instead of the polite and grammatically correct "May I please use the toilet-room?" (Inisfreeans only say 'rest room' when they mean 'bedroom'; where one rests), and another girl was whipped because even though she phrased the question that (correct) way, she said "bathroom" instead of "toilet-room", resulting in her being allowed not to pee, but only to take a bath; a painful lesson in bladder control. A third girl was whipped for saying "rest room" instead of toilet-room, and so she was allowed to take a nap --Also forcing her to practice bladder control. Many girls pissed down their own legs once successive whippings were applied after their bodies could no longer hold in the liquid toxins. Though they rarely had to urinate or defecate with the remarkable Inisfreean diet and energies, they were still human, and eventually nature did still call them.
The punishments (secret training) continued, neverending. One girl was whipped because she didn't seem to be enjoying herself and really into it when she was used for anal. Another girl was whipped because when she was finished being used as the glory hole, she didn't seem alight with aroused bliss and pleasant exhaustion --not eNough, anyway. Then she was put back into the glory hole for a consecutive hour... and another... and another.
Cum Hard Earned:
Then came the night when she was told to hurry back across Inisfree, all on her own this time, to test her memory and sense of urgency as she returned to the side and arms of their King. A truly decadent, excessive, luxurious amount of cum he pumped straight into her soon after she had reached him, giving her the hypnotic, capturing feeling of a fountain starting to flow at one-second intervals deep within her pelvis's core. Inside her body, half a foot up into that wet, pink space between her legs, she was feeling the flowing of his hot, milky liquid, and enough of it to fill a champagne glass to the brim. His warm hands, tingling with the surge of energy she just gave him in wholeheartedly and hungrily accepting all that, were pressed to her abdominal wall as he rubbed firm circles around her tummy while letting himself stare at her breasts, their beauty and perfection making his heart pound and his whole spirit relax. The river of his filmy seed had fully coated her pussy all the way down from her uterus to where it was starting to drip out of her, beginning to trickle, and promising to feel like a waterfall the moment he pulled out of her. For now, though, his thick, erect, uncompromising shaft was plugging her and keeping it trapped more than half a foot up inside her main fuckhole. He needed to ensure that she and he Both felt it mixing and settling with her Own cum in there. He wouldn't let her move for an hour until he felt it had.
While she had earned and been given what she could clearly feel were 14 long, massive, soaking spurts of cum flexed out into the highest point in her pussy with careful squeezing and timing until the very last drop had been put inside her, the rest of the girls he fucked that evening would only receive two or three, and of far less a quantity. The majority of the cum they got to enjoy instead had come from their milking Her Pussy for it; sealing their lips around her slit and munching on it as their tongues probed it as deeply as they possibly could stretch them in. These girls then held that mouthful of cum they worked out of her in the back of their mouths, coating the start of their throats, while he made use of them and squirted his remaining loads up into their pussies and assholes, sometimes having another girl or three suck and then jack him off into their full mouths, one at a time, to give them one or two more squirts to add to the white pool at the base of their tongues. They then shared this cum by pouring it from mouth to mouth between the other girls until it had grown twice as large with all their added spit, and only Then began to swish it around their teeth, gargle with it, and start to swallow their little shares, being thoughtful of their fellow girls and slaves, giving each her own appetite-whetting taste and gulp.
Auz lived his life in Inisfree with a girl on his cock and a hundred more around him at almost all times, Sarah found out, and she was his preferred girl, so great had been her femininity accomplishments. There were what appeared to her to be tens or even hundreds of thousands of these girls, each and every one of them so perfect in her beauty and sexiness that they put even the legendary girls of Gor and Atlantis to shame, with millions more of the very same caliber she'd heard of across his private city, and sextillions more of that caliber she'd heard brief mention of in some additionally secret and private realm; what sounded like his own custom-made solar system. The Priest-kings of Gor had made a planet and controlled it. The God-king of Inisfree had apparently made an entire star system, maybe even more.
Being his First Girl now, she was likely to find out. Even the free-girls and women he'd been given as wives to unite the once separated realms didn't get anywhere near as much time with their husband, the King of all Inisfree, as his First Girl did, so often locked at his side by hair fistful, chain, and desire. First Girl afforded her certain privileges that even the various queens and concubines of the favored Outland realms simple didn't yet have the time and aligning schedules for. The King knew this would happen, and had carefully scoured the Earth for just such a girl as he found in Sarah.
She was his property, his possession, his energy well, his slave slut, and more, and he would make use of her the Moment he wanted, whenEver he wanted, making more important and frequent use of her even than an Outlander checks his wristwatch. Such was her nature, her power, her purpose, her destiny, her calling, her liberation, her recognition, her prize, and his own. Her submission to him was divine, and he enjoyed it that way; to that highest of all levels. That alone was what was acceptable for justifying her close proximity to him even during times in Inisfree's most classified facilities and meetings. Slaves of Sarah's caliber were more trustworthy than any free women, of course, and for many obvious reasons.
Some evenings, as she was allowed to enjoy watching and help advise the endless parade of other slave-sluts in the Inisfreean-level art of how to fuck him, she earned his permission to be fed his table scraps as he feasted with his immortal daughters, and some evenings she earned his permission to drink an entire bowl of his cum (synthesized flawlessly by one of his city's technologies). Sometimes that bowlful of cum was placed at his feet for her to lean over and lap up with her tongue, sometimes she was allowed to hold the bowl to her lips to savor its smell as she drank it down at her own pace, sometimes it was poured down into her mouth by him or one of his daughters to see how quickly she could chug it all before needing to breathe, sometimes it was poured into her mouth until her mouth could hold no more, and then she was made to sit there and hold it there, coating all of her teeth and tongue and throat while the rest of the bowl was poured out all over her head and tits and pelvic dimples so she could rub it around her belly and all over her body and up into her pussy while the rest of them continued to dine at one of his many great tables. Inisfreeans loved to watch girls drink cum. Anytime a hot girl was taking cum into her body, it was a major turn on for them. This, Sarah hopefully noted, was an Excellent way to politely request her Master's (and mistresses') attention; just sit down in front of them in the Gorean pleasure slave position, pour a bowl of cum into her own mouth, and smile while maintaining eye contact with them as she swallows it all away.
When Sarah was Really paga-hot in the beds and on his furs, and especially when she was that good on display in one of his sex-ed classes atop a fuck-pedestal at his Tantric Sex Academy, she got to sit on a heated, vibrating, massage throne in a deep jacuzzi filled up to her neck's level with warm cum, two vibrating, ribbed, rotating, pumping dildo-hoses keeping a steady stream of more warm cum flowing out into her pussy and asshole, and a line of his daughters taking turns scooping up handfuls and mouthfuls and bowlfuls of the bathtub's cum and pouring it down into her mouth for her to swish or gargle or hold or swallow however she pleased. 'Cum bath', 'cum shower', and 'cum drunk' were the terms, and they, naturally, took them to the next level -and beyond. Inisfreeans did Everything all-out, shying not away from the extremes, and made sure their girls were Fully acclimated to the most sex and cum imaginable. Such was the Inisfreean Way.
Some of the Outlander girls liberated to Inisfree began to have nightmares; sometimes of their 'normal' lives as Outlanders --after realizing how torturous and backward it all had been, and sometimes of their culture-shock and future-shock experiences in the Rapture Campaign. ('Future-shock' is being shocked by how different the advances are of those who continue evolving while your own group is stuck in a time-warp, hibernation, or near-light-speed travel long enough that you effectively become archaic and obsolete.) Most of the Outlander girls were left to overcome their nightmares on their own; via time and their own natural processes. Some were allowed to be comforted by their fellow kajirae-in-training. A few were comforted and treated by some of the Inisfreean girls. And One was cradled in the arms of the Inisfreean Governor himself; only Sarah, whenever she had bad dreams, was comforted by Lord Himmler.
"Time heals all wounds," he'd once rumbled to her as he rocked her back to sleep in his arms, "but a healthy environment makes it take Less time, ...and with love, it takes almost no time at all."
In Inisfree, slavery was certain for some, though it was, more often than not, a very comfortable one, but love and tenderness were also, more often than not, certainties, and that included the girls who had studied and worked hard being rocked to sleep whenever they might benefit from it. Their instructors were without exception uncompromising. Excellence wasn't good enough; they had to be perfect or they had to leave, but the girls who earned their right to remain, longer and longer, little by little, also earned the trust of their captors; their slavers; the Inisfreeans, and once such a challenging trust had been earned, what came with it was TLC. The Inisfreeans might, at any moment, revert back to their initial, quite brutal reinforcement methods if need be, and the girls would always be able to sense just how close they were to this, but the array of their forms and levels of interaction with this new race of immortal beings would expand most agreeably... proportionately to how much each girl truly longed to be there in their special, hidden realm.
After her glimpse into her Godking's daily life in his private mansion's library --and its breakfast room the following morning, Sarah had rejoined her sisters from the Outlands in their ongoing training program; one which took even the brilliant methods of Gor to previously unimagined heights. It was clear that she had earned the leader of the Inisfreean people finally opening up some more to her, but it was time for the next round; the next evolution, as the Inisfreeans liked to put it.
It had been several days of intensive instruction, studies, and examination --both written and oral (in multiple senses of the term), and Sarah had not seen the tall, strong man who seemed to be the only male in all of Inisfree. He would not be at the forefront of her mind, what with all the distractions and demands placed upon her from the initial weeks of training -which she and the other girls had spent living far down below the surface in the Receiving Facility. But there he was, standing in one of the silently opened double-doorways, as upright and proud as ever, looking over all the girls in the room and waiting for them to notice.
There was a surge of adrenalin and then a hurrying of nude, teenage bodies as dozens of girls did their best to drop down into the pleasure-slave position without disgracefully bumping into any of their 'sisters' and classmates. One of the first things on their minds now was that no one had earned the right to try fucking this lone man of Inisfree yet --as far as they knew; Sarah's private experiences with him had been left unspoken of, left up to her to decide whether or not to eventually share them with anyone. It had been many months since these girls' homelands had been swept aside and their sexual educations had begun in those large prison vehicles in the Outlands. The days were turning into weeks here in Inisfree now, and the same held true within; only dildos, sybians, Inisfreean instructors, and the tongues and fingers and toes of their fellow girl-slaves-in-training had been inside them, and with the knowledge that there was a man here, Master of Masters, and more powerful than any of them could fully fathom, their sexual tension, frustration, and antsiness was only heightened --a dangerous thing, given that it meant a potentially fatal distraction if they made enough mistakes to justify any one of the Master Females marching them off to be eaten, deatomized, or forced to brawl to the death in the underground version of the Vatican being used as a gladiatorial arena.
The Governor, wearing his blood-red cape this time, walked right up to Sarah and raised her to her feet with his powerful hands closed around her upper arms. He shook her like that, enough to frighten her, and then took the sides of her head in his hands, shaking her a second time -almost violently, though his aura was always relaxed as a clear sky. (Decades of practice as a combatant and special warfare instructor did that to a man.) He waited for her confusion and tears to set in, then asked her in his usual, calm, rumbling voice: "... Do you Want to be the first girl to be fed to my dragons?" He waited for her to gulp and stare into his eyes in horror, begging for mercy and clarification so she could correct herself. Until now, such potential demises had never been mentioned, much less the existence of dragons --which, it was almost certain, 100% of the girls in her training class had been raised to believe were mythological.
What had she done to offend him so? What could she Possibly have Done?? The way he had made special use of her, kept her by his side, spoken to her almost as a free woman, even crept up behind her in the most intimate and loving of greetings that last day which seemed like just a heartbeat ago... What on Earth could have Happened since then? Had he gone mad? Had some ruthless enemy used magic to change his mind... or warp or erase those memories?
"Sarah Conrad," he said her full name, a rare thing in Inisfree where most Outlander girls were only addressed by a single snapping of fingers to summon them, "I was expecting Much more from you." His hands released the sides of her head and moved down to warmly rest around her shoulders, leaving her to expect a third, jarring shake of her entire body. "I like you, Sarah," he softly told her, and it was heartfelt, though a cliffhanger of a comment if ever there was one. "-but, if you press me, I won't hesitate to subject you to every single punishment we have here in Inisfree, one after the other, until you are eventually eaten or deatomized." With that, he let her go, stepped back from her, looked her face and eyes once over as a steely commando instructor robotically regards a would-be recruit, and then walked away, leaving her standing there in front of all of her classmates; the kneeling girls at her feet.
The one man in all of Inisfree had left the room; left her there to wonder and dread and over-analyze; ...left her there to be questioned and scrutinized by her worried classmates futily trying to muffle their sobs and choke down their tears while they all came back together again to try and figure out what in the world had provoked such a soul-shaking encounter. They loved Sarah. All the girls here had fallen in love with each other. They had been through so much together, learned so much together and about themselves and each other, and felt like sisters and lovers all at once now. They didn't want to lose her. They Also didn't want to be punished en-masse for whatever it was that Sarah had apparently done wrong. Little did they know that this was just one more of an endless line of clever tests specifically designed to make them wonder and cry and further bond this much, wracking their brains and learning to work calmly through their worst stressors and fears. They were to be made in this way... the finest kajirae in history; the pleasure-slave equivalents of the greatest special warfare commandos. Even being a master kajirae to the highest standards of the richest Gorean cities wasn't enough for their Inisfreean Master and his subordinate Mistresses. Their minds would be elasticized further, their self-control and acuity would be on par with that of the gods, and they would, in a word, be perfect... eventually.
A Master Female still in the corner of their room at the time just cast an unimpressed look Sarah's way, moving her eyes downward and slightly shaking her head as if to say 'I am ashamed of my students, and I doubt you will make it now.' This curvy blonde bombshell then walked out of their room, leaving all of the girls there on their own for the next hour to figure things out for themselves, wondering if they would realize what had really just happened, and wondering if, whether they realized the truth or not, how pleasing their team decision and following actions would be. None of them could access the telepathic network that linked all Inisfreean minds, and so it was that they were on their own as a class of shell-shocked students, left to communicate only amongst each other... in the only ways they knew how.
The Threat of Being Sold:
That week, the least impressive girls were put up on the auction block; a giant stone left on its side to serve as a stage for the display of kajirae for bidders who had come from various other worlds to sample and barter for Inisfreean wares. The few million Outlanders who had been allowed to live through the global terraforming campaign were not present, so whomever these girls were sold or traded to would end up on a completely alien planet. Some were traded for another girl. Some were sold for a handful of fruit just to teach them a lesson. Sarah was made to stand tall and nude, shackled into the chain along with the rest of them. Her wrists were cuffed behind her back to the same chain that linked her temporary collar (which she had not yet earned her own version of) and to all the other girls. They were spat on, heckled at, whipped into the various poses of the slave-girl, then unlocked from the chain one by one as they were auctioned off and handed over to a whole host of monstrous new Masters from a dozen different worlds far out away from the Sun solar system. They hadn't even had a chance to complete their Inisfreean educations as incoming prospects for the Concubine Corps of Inisfree's fleets. It was an intensely upsetting day for these girls. Their hearts were fully in this; everything the Inisfreeans expected of them, yet, as more and more of them were handed off to strange alien beasts of men, their doom seemed destined, and they could not quite tell whether or not this was just the latest merciless test and evolution conceived by the Inisfreeans... or the Inisfreeans finally giving up on indoctrinating them.
It finally came time for Sarah to be whipped through her series of random commands and positions, and then a reptilian man right in the middle of the crowd of aliens made the highest offer and purchased her. The Governor, Lord Himmler as he was known to these slavers from other worlds, was standing in the shadows nearby, his arms folded, watching it all in total peace. ...Then, at the last moment, just as Sarah was being led off stage by her hair and toward the awaiting shackles held in the scaled hands of the fierce-looking reptilian man, a familiar warm hand rested down upon her left shoulder. It was the Governor; King of Inisfree.
"Is it your slave's wish that I keep you?" he asked Sarah, rumbling down to her from his head-taller stance.
"Do you not wish to belong to this reptilian?" The King wasn't exaggerating; the man was an actual reptile humanoid whose people had evolved from dinosaurs, not apes.
"What if it is my Wish to see you fuck this reptilian?" He let this sink in to his slave-girl's mind for a moment. In order for her to have any value as a female, his every wish had to be her greatest ones. Otherwise, he would sense the discord, clone her countless times, and be done with her.
Sarah was given several seconds to speak from her heart, then it was the men's turn again.
The Governor turned to the reptilian man and made him an offer. "I would like to keep this one --but only if you accept. I will give you a copy of her in return, and you can keep what you bid."
The reptilian thought about this for a while; seconds which probably seemed to Sarah like an eternity, and then nodded once.
"Sarah," the King (synonymous, in the Inisfreean chain of command, with 'the Governor') turned to her, she with her wrists still shackled behind her back and linked to the back of her metal collar. "I will not be a bad host and have my guests leaving with blue-balls. Fuck him until he is satisfied, and make sure you get him to cum inside you. Then you will be free to rejoin your classmates and attempt to graduate into the spiritual liberation which is Inisfreean slavery." Again, he wasn't exaggerating; earning one's place in Inisfree indefinitely, often permanently, freed a person from the otherwise endless, horrific cycle of life and death. It was much more than just feeling Better all the time and getting to live out one's deepest fantasies with encouragement and protection rather than condemnation. Spiritual liberation meant precisely that; the soul is finally liberated from its eternal atrophying and Death-based bondage in the Outlands.
The shackles and collar were kept on Sarah and chained together, and she was shoved at the reptilian who casually began to position and have her. He came in her five times over the course of two hours before tossing her away and leaving.
Sarah had been unprepared for the demons that would come screaming out of her in the night in guise of nightmares. Years of fetid ideas and stagnant customs came roaring out with horrifying brutality and ugliness that left her screaming terror into the night. If not for the loving arms of her Master rocking her, comforting her through the raging tempest, she didn't know how she would have managed.
The violent shake could be summed up as a personal earthquake measuring a solid 10 on the Richter scale. It left arms feeling bruised, head spinning, stars spotting before her eyes and it was all she could not to scream, WHY? The tears built and spilled down her face, fear clutching her heart with icy talons that brought her veins to freeze and mind scrambling in all directions to ascertain the reason behind this treatment. What had she done to upset him so?
" Please Master, no! I beg you! " She'd respond with heart wrenching plea. " Please, I will do anything for you! Anything, do not feed me to the dragons!" The hysteria was bubbling beneath the surface, a girl desperate to please the man she knew in her slave heart to be her love Master. It twisted her to know that she had so displeased him, worse than any punishment the Inisfreeans could dish out, and there were many terrifying and painful punishments they could give.
As swiftly as it began, it was over. The Master left her standing there, agonizing over every detail of every encounter they had ever shared and wondering where the misstep had occurred. All eyes were on her, quiet sobs and whispers filling the room as all minds wondered the same. Returning to the arms of her sisters, she would answer their questions and explain with a great amount of detail what had occurred between her and the Ruler of Inisfree; that they might live the experience through her words and perhaps decipher where she had gone wrong.
This could not be happening. The horror of being sold was an even harder pill to swallow than her original capture had been to take, for now it was clear that she was not good enough. Even as the knowledge of that twisted in her heart like a blunt knife, the girl stood proudly and beautifully in attempt to fulfill what she perceived her Master's wish to be; that being that she make him a good profit.
The auctioneer called her forth, the chains unsnapped that she might move freely about the stage in an ardent display of her slavery. If she was to be sold, and this was truly the Lord's desire, then it was also hers and she would do everything to ensure it was to the highest bidder she went. Tears shimmered within the kajira's eyes as she was set through her paces, her body lifting and arching, kneeling, rolling and leaping as the whip commanded her. She ensured every part of her was lively, that every line and curve of her supple female flesh was displayed in the most salacious light that would beseech the audience into naughtiness for a chance just to grasp a well curved ankle. The bidding took place, the girl was sold, and despite her sadness a smile curved her lips; she had made a good price for him.
With hand in her hair, she was being led off stage when a familiar touch she thought she would never know again came to rest upon the delicate curve of her shoulder. The joy that sparked inside the small female was something akin to an iceberg; many would see the love and happiness in her tearful expression, yet the largest part of it was hidden beneath the surface. " Yes, Master, it is my slave's wish to always remain at your feet and beneath your whip." A fearful glance was sent towards the reptilian Master, for if she was truly given to him even after revealing her heart of hearts, he would probably not take kindly to being second in her life.
" No, Master. " The girl trembled at her Masters question, but there was hardly a pause between the end of his sentence and her sincerest answers. "If that is your wish Master, then it is my greatest aspiration as well."
As the men turned to discuss the matters of her future, Sarah kissed her pale knees to the auction block floor and thrust open her milky thighs as widely as possible. Sitting daintily back upon unturned heels, straightening the elegant lines of her back as shoulders settled softly inline with the swells of her hips. How joyous this occasion was that her Love Master had intervened at the last moment when she thought her world had been burnt asunder. She waited while the reptile mulled over the offer of her Master, and bowed her head in thanks when he agreed.
" Yes, Master!" She'd cry out happily, grinning as she was tossed into the arms of the reptilian male. With every ounce of power and feminine wile within her curvacious frame, the slave girl sought to appease the lust and carnal appetite of the one she had been thrown to. In front of her sisters still being sold from the block she was had, writhing and crying out her decadent passions as she was raped and enjoyed by the male. The man creature filled her with his cum in belly, mouth, ass and pussy. She even exulted in being showered in his liquid white spray that slopped against her satin flesh and glimmered in the light of the overhanging sun. " Thank you, Master." She'd whisper demurely as the reptilian finished with her and tossed her aside. Sarah had never felt more happy and proud, she had accomplished the task Lord Himmler had set for her and now she knew she was truly to be his.
The King returned just in time to see her alone in the test-fucking stall where the reptilian slaver had tossed her aside. Just outside its overlapping curtains and draperies was the dull roar of the hustle and bustle of the ever-busy auctioning house somewhere inside a dense urban region of Inisfree. The auras of thousands of slave girls and, perhaps, hundreds of alien slavers were overwhelming to anyone who could sense them, as were the overlapping fields of all their thoughts, each mentally spoken in any number of foreign languages all sounding like gibberish, for none of them were spoken elsewhere on the Earth. It was an atmosphere intentionally engineered with a hearty level of congestion and fear (or, more like, dread) of the unknown, and the dirty flooring covered in sawdust, sand, and 'moon dust' (cement before its powder is mixed to form concrete) had countless overlapping footprints of little slave girls being herded... and the hooved, clawed, and otherwise very odd feet of the slavers who had traveled across the Black Ocean (Outer Space), sometimes called The Abyss or The Verse, to select them. The kaleidoscope of new smells, many naturally most foul to any Earth girl, were also made to hang in the tension-thick atmosphere of the place, for no girl on the auction block of Inisfree would ever be allowed the comfort of a familiar musk of any Earth men. Had any of the girls not been so well trained thus far, the sounds of thousands of them whimpering and crying would have Also filled the air. What stopped them was knowing that to break down like that meant almost certain and excessively painful death --even if they were so lucky as to be seen and admired by an alien slaver with dacryphilia.
Sarah had performed her duties as a slave exactly as the Inisfreeans required; she had not only had instant, willing obedience to her orders, but had done so with pride, skill, and zeal. Several other slave girls being auctioned off had been whipped extra, and a few of them beaten, for having been so easily and wholly distracted from their performances by the hypnotic, arousing performance of their sister in bondage with her would-be reptilian purchaser. Sarah had wowed them all, and in secret... even a few of the Inisfreean police were nudging their partners and pointing her out in the crowd, that all might see and benefit from her incredible sexual genius.
"I see what your latest user reported to me was true," the King of all Inisfree walked back in to find her there, his mind games and merciless testing already back in full swing for the time being; "he didn't much enjoy you. He found you lacking in focus and effort. I have a good mind to end you for upsetting our distinguished guests like that." His tone and countenance were unreadable. Those who played the game Poker would be driven nuts by his command of all body language and 'tells'.
"Don't think that just because he willed himself to spray his alien seed into you so many times that he actually found you to be anything but wanting." The Godking of the Inisfreeans was really laying it on thick, though no one, save his Inisfreean-borne girls, would have ever been the wiser. "Clearly, he was just fed up and doing his best to free his body of that urge prior to departing our realm, completely unsatisfied with what he found here, and locked into a long journey back home --a journey slated to be inFuriating due to your lackluster performance."
What had seemed, before, like a Master wanting to keep his best slave girl back in Inisfree all for himself... was now apparently just the ongoing situation from before; that she might still be made to suffer a terrible death at the maw of a real monster, ...or trained harder and harder... only to be placed right back up on Inisfree's auction block later.
In his secret heart of hearts, though, Inisfree's King was head over heels for the young girl's exceptional performance, and as Sarah's sensory perception continued to sharpen due to the prolonged exposure to the Inisfreean environment, diet, teachings, and interaction, it was possible that she might start to somehow feel that in him.
He gave Sarah a once over, nodded once --half to himself, half to her (another feigned mood swing and polar opposite body language to further confuse and fluster the poor girl)-- then snapped his fingers for her to heel him as he left the test-fucking stall. Speaking to her without even turning his head in her direction, he gave her her next slave orders; "You are to keep that man's cum inside you; no cleaning yourself out. As a future kajira, you are expected to adore the feeling of having your insides coated with that stuff at all times. In the morning, you may bathe in the stream that flows through the bottom deck of your slave quarters in the Receiving Facility. Be completely clean --inspection ready-- no later than zero-five." He expected her to either know or ask and find out that 'zero-five' meant 0500 hours; 5 A.M., which meant she would have be awake just after four.
"After your nearest Master Female has inspected you, I will inspect you. If you pass both inspections, you will be spared from the lash and allowed to do chores until nightfall. If you succeed in making yourself especially sexy during each chore, I will see if you are ready to be used in my bedchamber." He didn't ask her to repeat what he'd just told her, nor if she understood; he expected her to at this point in their relationship, and to be paying close attention at all times.
That was all he had to say to her for now. Handing her back over to one of his Master Females, the girl hooked two of her fingers into Sarah's pussy and led her back down into the slave quarters where the rest of Sarah's classmates were studying in their usual, nude cuddle-puddle; dozens of the girls lounging together, splayed out over, and interwoven With each other. The Master Female slid her fingers out of Sarah's pussy, indicating she was free to walk over to them on her own.
One of the girls' had her back covered in red whipping marks; at least half a dozen of them, sometimes criss-crossing. Her eyes met Sarah's, widened a bit as if fighting back tears, and then looked away; she may have been ashamed to be seen as such a failure, punished so roughly for all to see, or she may have been just as overwhelmed with relief at her lovely friend's unexpected return to the training quarters, or both. One of the other girls laid down on her back, easing the whipped girl to lie down on top of her, breasts to breasts, and began to tenderly French kiss and caress her ribs down to her hips over and over again, taking the girl's mind off the stinging, throbbing, unsightly pain of her latest punishment. Another of Sarah's classmates whispered into Sarah's ear what the offense had been; "Jenny hesitated when told to take ass-to-mouth. Then she made a noise which was not agreeable and sexy." Jenny, like Sarah, was one of their class's top students. No one was above the corrective measures of the Inisfreean training program.
A few meters away from them, Jenny's tears were now smearing across the cheeks of the other girl she was tenderly making out with. The cut lines on her back looked raw and mercilessly administered. What Jenny would later share with her sisters in training was that a growing number of her tears had been because she was emotionally crushed that she had not been sufficiently pleasing to her Masters; her lashes hurt, of course, but what hurt more was her heart aching to be deemed lovable and lustworthy by such an unbelievably advanced race of super-nymphs and their godly King. Jenny knew nothing else like that would ever be found again if ever she was ejected back into the Outlands from which they had noticed and plucked her. She thought she was fucking up the one greatest chance she had ever been given. Jenny was a slave girl at heart, and a fiercely competitive, infinitely passionate one.
If Sarah reached out to comfort the dejected little model of a girl, Jenny would extend her trembling fingers and hands out to Sarah's sides, opening her arms to her trusted friend and equally passionate, fellow student, and keep her tear-soaked eyelids tightly shut as she squeezed Sarah in a hug for dear life. Until a few hours later, Jenny would be unable to form a complete sentence. Such was her emotional devastation.
"I'm so glad you're home," she would eventually whisper sweetly into Sarah's lips, looking at her as if she was back from the dead, her tiny, delicate, smooth fingers caressing and exploring the features of Sarah's face while they laid together. "I'm so glad you're home."
The lights hidden inside the translucent walls of their luxurious, cylindrical, silo-like training bunker dimmed to darkness, and Jenny, her whipped back still throbbing, her face wet from hours of tears and shining until their slave room went dark, finally passed out.
If Sarah dared inquire as to the possibility of her inter-species pregnancy, she would only be coldly told "Wait and find out." Pregnancy was not possible in Inisfree for multiple overlapping reasons, but until she and the other girls passed all the many tests of their training program, none of them would be allowed to know that which would spare them the severe worry of such things. Inisfreean slave girls must be able to operate flawlessly even under combat-level stress, for it is to combat zones across the black ocean of the stars which they will be deployed, joining the other Inisfreeans as their complementary Concubine Corps. Until that time, Sarah would be left, in what moments were left free to her, to look down at -and touch- her belly... and wonder if it might start to swell.
The King returned, parting the curtains and drapery to reveal her cum bathed self knelt upon the hard floor. A smile had been gracing luscious lips, revealing the neat rows of her small pearly teeth until she registered the storm cloud in his eyes. Smile vanished. Self created pride at a job well done, decimated. The little kajira threw herself at his feet, flinching at his words as if he were physically whipping her. Forehead pressed to the space before his feet, her thighs spread in cradle around her torso as she exposed the elegant line of her back, even shrugging a shoulder to spill her mahogany mane with its glittering copper and gold highlights; A natural occurrence from her days in the sun. “ Forgive me Master!” she’d openly weep, quivering fearfully as it was revealed that she had failed.
How could she have missed it? The Reptile had seemed so well pleased, or perhaps it was true and she had simply..foolishly..stupidly thought that his ejaculation had actually equaled pleasure. Oh what a worthless girl she was. “ Please Master, let me try again! I can do better!” she’d protest, though if he truly wanted to end her, she would happily give over her life..anything was better than being sent away from his light.
At his command, the girl sprang to her feet and quickly healed him, slave bracelets encircling her slender wrists gleaming coldly in the sunlight. “ Is that short for zero-five hundred, Master?” she’d swiftly question, the military speak not unknown to her for she had had fleeting dalliance with a cadet who thought to impress her with such; It just made her think he was an even bigger nerd and wanna-be than she had thought to begin with.
Despite that she had supposedly performed so miserably, he offered her a most tantalizing prospect that made her lick her lips and suddenly burn with an insatiable appetite that no amount of food or water could ever hope to sate; She would be beckoned to his bedchamber, her heart of hearts demanded it.
As swiftly as he appeared, he was gone, yet again. Bereft of his aura, the girl shuddered as if she had just been abandoned. Gazing at the Master Female with open love, lust and awe, she offered a most decadent sound of delight as her fingers were hooked into her cum filled pussy, and finding that girl's personal way of moving, Sarah would adjust herself and move accordingly.
Back to the training rooms she was marched and released with the other captives, and she noted that once again she was singled out by the fact her bindings remained.
The vision of the other girl's lashings had Sarah visible shuddering as if the pain was her own. Tears sprang into her eyes yet again, for she hated to see her sisters hurt and it made her stride to be ever better for them and with them. Into the cuddle-puddle she wadded and settled, opening her arms to Jenny to comfort and soothe the distraught female. She knew what it was like to be so emotionally devastated, for she had felt the same not hours ago, but by some miracle she was still here and able to sweetly kiss and caress this wonderful girl until she found rest. “ As am I, dear heart,” Sarah would coo back, lovingly stroking, coddling and tracing Jenny's lines well after she had long passed out. The idea of the possibility of a pregnancy did cross her mind, though it did not fill her with dread but quiet contemplation. If this was her Master's wish, then it was also in accordance with her own.
At exactly 4, Sarah awakened still locked in embrace with Jenny and several other girls all interwoven like a great web of limbs and softly sleeping bodies. With great care, she stroked the girl beside her into wakefulness, lovingly caressing her into a position from which they could transition Jenny from Sarah's bed of pale belly to her's without so much as a jostle of the whipped girl. She stayed long enough to soothe the girl back to sleep before fully disengaging from the puddle of girls and swiftly retreating to wash.
Body glistening with slithering beads of water, sarah combed out her long cape of hair that had turned the color of cocoa from wetness. She took great care to scrub herself, rinsing out every part of herself, and relieve herself that she be ready for the inspection. Skin a light dusting of rose, seemed to glow after the wash and her hair she twisted into an elegant braid that trailed her torso. She stood at the ready when the first Master Female approached, heart jackhammering against her rib cage as she hoped she had not forgotten a single part of herself for this inspection. Metal bindings still threaded across her wrists keeping her bound, Sarah would pose for inspection, lifting her sweet mango sized breasts as she elongated her spine. Shoulders drifted back as she lifted the small curve of her chin, exposing the white tower of her throat. Hips squared up and tilted as she drew one precious foot before the other, softening a knee to have a decadent bend that lifted her heel from the floor and pointed her toes beautifully towards the Master Female. She would have placed her hands behind her back, but the chain kept her from doing so, thus she opted to display her palms in open seduction towards the girl. Now she was just hoping against hope that she would pass inspection.
From a Distance:
Walking Sarah out of that test-fucking room with its floor of sawdust, her genuine pleas like music in his ears and memory, and the shifts in her aura like a warm blanket after a lifetime without one, the Governor of Inisfree found it a bit challenging, even with his decades of military training, not to smile in deep appreciation and adoration of the stunningly perfect girl. He practically got off to her submissions, her heartfelt efforts, and even -sometimes especially- to her teary eyes; dacryphilia, it was called, and he was well aware of having -and enjoying- it. On the surface, though, for now (until Sarah proved herself all the way to and through graduation), he was as unreadable as a statue. He had only briefly cast his eyes her way when she'd asked for clarification on his time jargon, giving her an almost curt nod in answer, clearly not caring in the least what anyone thought of his ways or motivations, and ensuring that she was paying close and graceful attention to him at all times; anything less, and she would surely miss his customarily split-second hints and tests designed that only those whose hearts were light as a feather, and whose interests were fully aligned with his own, might ever pass and be granted an Inisfreean citizenship.
While Sarah was being reunited with her sisters in training, somewhere deep below the surface on the far side of the city, he took the Inisfreean mag-lev bullet-train back along one of its restricted routes to one of the lower basements beneath his personal and private mansion high on the slope of the city's central and greatest mountain. It was there he would return to some of his other work as the founder and leader of this new realm and people while Sarah returned to her Own work in preparation for their next union and further acclimation --though it seemed, he grinned in noting, that somehow, miraculously, beautifully, wonderfully... she hadn't actually needed any acclimation at all.
The Governor took a moment to go over the report of one of his field agents in what used to be, before the global terraforming campaign, Afghanistan. It was not a paper or digital file, however; a 'report' to an Inisfreean is like an out-of-body experience, or like a possession, in a way, in that all five senses, and often many more, are experienced by the 'reader' or receiver of the report, making it seem as if they are living those experiences for the first time, just through another being's ears and eyes (and everything else). All sensory data is transmitted, thus making (the often poorly timed) photographs and even audio and video recordings of the Outlanders obsolete. They were too easily Photoshopped and otherwise faked, anyway.
The experience of receiving this particular report was one of flying in an open-sided helicopter-like airship over desert steppes and plateaus, caravans of camels (now riderless, as all the surviving humans were at or on their way to Nuuk) meandering across them amidst short plant-life scattered about their padded hooves on the sandy and rocky terrain, with giant lakes and even seas on the horizon, making what once were the mountains of the western Himalayas now an island chain not unlike Hawaii's. The report allowed him to feel the wind blowing back the individual locks of hair on the reporter's head, even feeling how that gently pulled at and massaged her scalp, and the taste and aroma of ancient, fine-grain sand hung in the air that blew past her as her aircraft quietly darted forward into a gradually banking turn for a better view of the Conan-esque, storybook landscape below. Completing his review of this latest report, he mentally signaled the computer to stop the recording and close the file. The impulses in his brain were detected and correctly interpreted, and the commands were instantly obeyed. Looking back out into the room around him, his eyes refocused, no longer seeming to focus on nothing, as had been the case when he was experiencing the report. The hint of a smile softened his previously stern features, and it came from Two girls this time; his Inisfreean daughter, now a commando conducting reconnaissance thousands of miles away across their newly reclaimed home-planet, and Sarah, the Outlander girl he found himself fancying more and more with each of her remarkably compatible actions.
Some of the girls now living and training with Sarah had heard the unique Inisfreean language sounds uttered a time or two before. Often, it took them a while to place it, for when they had heard it in the Outlands, it sounded like a mix of every major accent on Earth somehow flowing and meandering this way and that through a sentence. Once their minds made the connection; that they had heard either a strong, bearded man, passing through on what he called an expedition, rather than just a trip, ...or a young, startlingly beautiful teen girl with the same tale, they knew in that instant that they had encountered an Inisfreean before the Rapture Campaign; in the final years of Inisfree's design finalization and construction; just before the global terraforming event which wiped out 99% of the human race. Here, now in Inisfree, they realized that it wasn't just the result of those extraordinary travelers having been around their world many times; here, it was the birth of an entirely new language; one which was reuniting them all. During the Tower of Babel, or so the legend goes, all current languages were created from the dialects and jargon that resulted from the sudden isolation of the peoples, once united in a single task, indefinitely separated and driven apart by the massive, collapsing debris. Inisfree had reversed and mended all that; now, at long last, all those peoples, and their languages, were reuniting to become again one. This was the Inisfreean capital, its capitol, and tongue. Here, all the human and humanoid forms were brought back into harmony, along with their sciences, languages, art forms, building and decorating styles, and more. The Inisfreeans continued to let the incoming girls hear them speak the Inisfreean language, and it was a flowing, eloquent, poetic, musical, and beautiful one; a language befitting the goddesses which spoke it. One day, it was felt through the auras and vibes and other subtleties in the air, it was hoped that the Outlander girls, too, would, here in Inisfree, speak it just as well.
One of the only girls in her whole subterranean silo of a kajirae training barracks to be awake that morning at that hour, Sarah got to experience the sheer serenity of the nymph-cave-like facility that was her and the other girls' home. The Master Female, nude, naturally tanned, and standing erect, proud, and supremely confident before her, regarded Sarah with the eyes of an inspector, seasoned and stunning, flawless and almost predatory. Every detail, this woman was aware of. Every motion and sound, breath and blink, she scrutinized, timed, weighed, felt, and thought upon -and all in a seamless stride, as if it was as easy for her as sleeping. She inspected Sarah's entire body just as their King had, and after a long moment of silent pause, again testing Sarah's composure, the Master Female narrowed her eyes at Sarah's, finally giving Sarah the relief and affirmation she had so long sought and deserved. "You pass."
The Inisfreean girl lightly snapped her fingers by her hip, pointing then with them to the smooth flooring off to the side of her right foot, indicating that Sarah hurry forth to heel her from there, and sexily strode into the central room of her group's floor of the Receiving Facility, and farther around its curving wall until they had entered the AIOW which ascended to another hallway linking to the nearest Inisfreean subway station. She was taken, at nearly 400 miles per hour, back across the underground network of Inisfree to one of the basement annexes of the Governor's private mansion, which she would now, as was part of his plan for her, be able to recognize and, hopefully, even navigate to on her Own some day. It was just another 'edging' for her, though; just another 'tease', as she hadn't even been able to step off her subway car and onto the smart-flooring of the luxurious station's waiting platform; the Governor had been waiting there for her and her Inisfreean escort, and had inspected her from where he stood just a foot outside the parting double doors of her subway car, giving Sarah's escort a single, slight nod in approval. The double doors then slid back together, and off Sarah was silently sped through another subway tunnel to do the usual chores of tidying, cleaning, hanging laundry up on clothes lines to sun dry in the Inisfreean wildflowers breeze, and practice her sexiest movements and other techniques until she was satisfied with them and herself before making her floor-bed and preparing its incense and scented candles for a possible sleepover of sorts with her King.
He didn't come. With the colorful tails of the Aurora Australis slowly swaying their dance high over the Inisfreean night sky, Sarah would be able to feel the flowing approach of one of the Inisfreean-born girls smoothly and silently teleporting into the antechamber of Sarah's latest assigned room in one of the many luxurious houses elsewhere in one of the neighborhoods on the opposite side of the city's central mountain. The girl, of an almost bronze or milk chocolate complexion, and with the irises of her eyes faintly glowing a deep emerald in the comfortingly shadowy corner of Sarah's assigned room, offered Sarah a knowing and truly in-love smile. Her long, thick, rich, almost shining head of gradually curling hair cascaded down about her shoulders and all the way down to just between her pelvic dimples, its lowest curls caressing the tops of her asscheeks, and her hair's color matching the deep, almost dark emerald color of her eyes.
"The Governor is pleased with you, Sarah," the Inisfreean told her, her voice otherworldly; like that of flowing water, crystal clear, and honey. It was the voice of an angel, or a Siren, or a nymph; born perfect and sexy in every way, even beyond the gifts of the purebred Pleasure Slaves.
"You have inDeed proven yourself ready to be used in his bedchamber, ..." she paused, reaching out to slide featherlight fingertips down Sarah's left forearm, as Inisfreeans always preferred to communicate more through motion and touch than mere words, "but it will not be this night." Again, her voice was so smooth and inviting that it could Easily make one cum just with its sound, or even by its message alone.
"Sleep in this room tonight... on the bed you have made... and let your thoughts and urges be whatever they may," the Inisfreean offered Sarah another loving smile, her lips lightly resting together, her head canted a few degrees, forehead a bit forward and at a downward angle, eyes a bit up to look longingly into Sarah's, distracting her with her heavenly charms from the onset of the frustration and loneliness (though they all knew by now that Sarah's frustration would only be a sexual one; that Sarah's will was as much that of the Governor's as all the wills of his many Inisfreean daughters were).
"I will fetch you in the morning."
The Inisfreean girl brought Sarah's left hand up to her lips, sucked Sarah's middle finger into her mouth and rolled her tongue once around it, then traced her featherlight fingertips from Sarah's wrist to where her palm met the undersides of her knuckles, smoothly thereafter teleporting back away into the thin air and shadows of that corner of her latest room, leaving Sarah, after her full, hard, honest day's work... not with the King or even one of his Inisfreean girls, ...but just the residue of one of their saliva all around her middle finger... all the way to its base.
There was a hope that she would use it to immediately finger herself, being overwhelmed and needy in that way and hour.
Another night passed... apart from the leader of Inisfree.
One morning, likely just moments after the clock struck zero-three, all of the lights came on, bright as ever, in the luxurious slave quarters. Inisfreean Master Females (though Outlander custom would call them Mistresses) were everywhere; they tended to appear out of thin air like that when something was exceedingly displeasing to them. These were the dangerous Drill Instructors of the Inisfreean realm, and their shows of force were few and far between, always most ominous and foreboding whenever they did finally occur.
A metal trash can, old fashioned even in the Outlands, was brought in, held by the Superman-strong grip of one of those Inisfreean girls; those Master Females, as they were called in Inisfree. In her other hand was a police baton; a night stick; a billy club. She was using it to rapidly, forcefully beat a loud staccato rapping report upon the fluted metal inside of the cylindrical, antiquated, rubbish receptacle. Once she had strutted menacingly and purposefully halfway across that deck of the underground slave quarters, she found her target, and launched the metal can, big enough to have a fully grown man put in the fetal position within it, all the way across the rest of the deck to where it, with pinpoint accuracy, impacted the face of one of the girls in training. It broke her nose and nearly gave her a concussion, and that was her alarm clock for the day.
The girl, bleeding from her nostrils, was seized and yanked to her feet. She was moaning and beginning to wail, but her rough handling had only just begun.
"Tell your classmates what you did," said the Master Female, standing nude and steely before the wounded teen, who had thrown the can with the intent of doing at Least that much damage to the girl. Her nose would Easily heal in the Inisfreean realm of girls rendered nearly invincible by so many overlapping, infinitely healing and strengthening things, but in the moment, the girl would fall back on her more deeply ingrained assumptions she'd been brought up with in the Outlands; how hurt she was, and the thought that she might never be beautiful again, would be all that filled her mind.
The girl did not respond appropriately, nor quickly enough, and was struck with a well-placed fist right across her cheek, splattering large droplets of bright red blood in an arc out away from her. She cried and stumbled back, and would have fallen, and the two other Master Females not been holding her arms as though she was their hated and unruly prisoner.
The interrogating Master Female, still holding her black police baton as though ready at any moment to strike and kill with it, raised her volume to address the whole deck; their circular floor with its eight adjoining, shipping crate annex wings converted into ultra-luxurious quarters for Sarah and the other kajira candidates. The dozens of others girls in Sarah's class, all now fully awake and already hurrying out to drop to their knees and shins, kneeling in the position of the Gorean pleasure slave, in a formation of consecutive semi-circles hugging the walls of the circular, central floor; a formation designed to give the maximum amount of space and walking room for all of their Instructors; the Master Females. Her volume was loud enough for them all to immediately know in no uncertain terms that the shit had just hit the fan.
"You've all been free... from the moment you set foot in our sacred, honorable realm... to leave... whenever you saw fit." Her voice was practically echoing off the walls, it was so loud (though calm), pronounced, focused, petrifying. "None of you have been kept here against your will. Your Outland realm burns, and is being reshaped, and most of your gross species has been, at last, purged, but that doesn't prevent you from starting new and better lives out there, should any of you so choose." Her booming, almost godlike voice continued, though she was but a girl appearing no older than a very fit and flawlessly beautiful teenager. "So the only reason one of your kind might choose to stay here... even though she didn't agree with our great way... would be due to either one of two things; ...one: she is a coward and too lazy to return to the world beyond our walls, or two: ...she is an impostor who dared to test our abilities by seeing how many offensive things she could get away with here before we noticed."
The Master Female then turned her focus back toward the girl with the broken, bleeding nose, though her eyes had never left her while she'd raised her voice to address the whole, circular room. "We in Inisfree notice everything," her voice was fierce and almost through gritted teeth now, for dramatic and theatrical, psychological effect; Inisfreeans are not capable of losing their tempers.
Other Master Females had taken up their places standing between the squads of kneeling Outlander teenage girls, ensuring by where they stood that 100% of them had a perfect, unhindered view of the entire scene unfolding before each and every one of them in the center of their deck, right beneath the circular opening in the center of its ceiling which allowed for air circulation between all the other floors above, right between their encircling, central balconies. More Master Females were now standing in the archways leading into all of the rectangular annexes from which all the girls in training had been woken in and hurried out of; they were there to ensure all of the girls felt herded, trapped, isolated, and with no way of returning or even looking back, if even for just a parting glance, into their comfortable sleeping quarters. Inisfree, after all, was a living, thinking, conscious collective of a city, and there was never any need for guards to be posted to prevent movements or confirm whether or not any particular room was occupied or vacant; the whole of the Inisfreean population, and the buildings themselves, were always aware of such things. The positioning --and visibility-- of these Inisfreean girls, much like the way in which their lead Drill Instructor of a girl was now speaking, were all for show, intimidation, and to drive the point home... whenever one needed to be made.
The Master Female, black police baton still in hand at her hip-side, eyelocked the girl whose nose was still dripping red blood down her lips and chin, now dotting her cleavage with the clotting, darkening liquid. "You thought you could slough (define) off your fair share of the duties of your classmates, neglect your chores, slip through the cracks, and haughtily abandon your sisters to pick up your slack."
The girl was now trembling, waiting for the next assault. Perhaps she knew it was coming.
"Dishonest beings are useless as teammates. They are unreliable, untrustworthy, dishonorable, shameless, full of excuses. They are liars. They are integrity violators. They compromise the entire team. They jeopardize the whole community. You..." she took one of the girl's earlobes in her iron grip, maintaining her eyelock like an eagle preparing to finish its meal, "are an integrity violator. You could have bowed out and been sent back home whenever you wanted... but you chose to stay... and in a shady, suspect, disreputable, disgraceful, shameful, revolting way."
The Master Female, still with the black police baton in her one hand, and the girl's earlobe in her other, again raised her voice a bit to address the whole floor of girls; all the dozens of Outlander teenagers kneeling along the walls in the squads they slept in their rectangular annexes with, and the Master Females --their Drill Instructors-- posted, standing tall, at even intervals between them. "We cleaned up her entire world, did all the work for her, righted the endless wrongs of her filthy, mongrel race of Outlanders. We restored her whole planet to its original, clean, invigorating state. We offered her the finest training Creation has even known. We gave her the choice of that completely cleaned up, healed planet full of vast realms she could pick and choose from... or to stay here with us in Heaven on Earth; this perfect city, Inisfree, where she could begin her life as an immortal, a goddess, and a treasured, deeply and fully desired sex object for the rest of time."
The eyes of the Master Female were still locked straight into those of the teenager held by the earlobe in her hand, but those Inisfreean eyes were not slowly shifting between all the colors that humans could see, anymore. Now, ...they were cold as ice... and black as night. Like a mood ring, they were showing her pure, unfiltered hate.
"Yet this little cunt still chose to reject both those offerings. She spat in the face of all of Inisfree. She lied to those who spared her when her entire race was mass-murdering every form of life across the face of the Earth. ...We Kept you when we could far more easily have just Cloned you, tossing the flawed original to the side to be deatomized with all the rest."
The Master Female leaned in so that her face was only an inch from that of the apprehended girl's. "I must say that shows pheNominal bravery... or utter stupidity, worm."
The girl, blood still trickling from her broken nose, still shuddering and daring not to move, could only stand there and wait for her sentencing. Inisfreeans all had the strength of the Titans, and could best even Superman in a fight. They could disregard entire armies and solar flares and planetary collisions. They could teleport inside people, or teleport those people into the vacuum of Outer Space. Few things were beyond their capabilities. It was pointless to defy them, and baffling whenever anyone stood Up to them. They minded their own business, never trying to dictate anyone else's lives, with the one exception being when innocent lives were being casually destroyed, as had been the case at the hands of most of humanity once it metastasized across the globe.
Jenny watched with total focus, almost forgetting the still slightly sore lashing marks crisscrossing her bare back. She wasn't mortified, though; she knew she was a good student, and her priority was observing, learning, and continuing to be the best slave girl she could be. Part of her felt for the girl singled out, yes, but a greater part of her knew that girl had made a series of very senseless choices, and that Inisfreeans are not wont to punish prized kajirae excessively; this wasn't so much witnessing a girl being made an example of... as it was a highly unlikely and arguably critical corrective measure that was as much to give a friendly warning as it was to entertain those who Did want to be with the Inisfreeans for the right and loving reasons.
The Master Female's voice was now normal, as though she was calm as could be, and as though her fury had never happened, and the irises of her eyes were now a deep, almost light, chocolaty brown. She spoke in that much more common, standard, sensationally arousing, feminine, smooth, musical voice of every Inisfreean, addressing the other Master Females around her. "For attempting to deceive us, for attempting to put undue burdens on her sisters in training, for failing to remove herself from this equation by opting out of successive kajirae schooling, I sentence this Outlander to recycling... to be carried out immediately. She pushed Our buttons... so now We'll push Hers."
The girl, still with her arms locked up in those of the two Master Females standing at her sides, was marched straight out of that circular, central, open-ceilinged room of that level of the the tall, underground silo serving as their slave quarters and first Inisfreean kajirae school, and the Master Female who had been addressing them all turned to look over the remaining mass of kneeling girls, casting her eyes over and about them, squad by squad as she spoke her final piece to them this early morning before zero-four. "Every single one of you will do her fair share of the cooking, her fair share of the cleaning, her fair share of the mending, her fair share of the carrying, her fair share of the everything. If you don't want to do something, there's the door," she pointed with the black police baton in the direction of the All-in-one-well (AIOW); Inisfree's version of a stairwell, which also had ladders, ropes, zip-lines, service lifts, and more.
"None of you are being forced to remain here. You are being trained to become pleasure slaves; kajirae, but we are not Keeping you as slaves. We know that the greatest distraction and grueling, constantly distracting challenge of all... is ensuring you are aware at all times that you can, whenever you want, give in to the pressure, quit, and walk right back out. The Outlands are still there for you. Your old civilizations are gone now, and all the landmarks you once knew are changed, but humanity still lives on out there, and you can, too. If being the most desirable, arousing, pleasing, brilliant forms of females that the Universe has ever known... is not what, in your heart of hearts, you want most and more, by far, than anything..." she put both her lightly balled fists on her curvy hips, "then you don't have what it takes to be an Inisfreean slave or citizen. We only want the best and brightest girls who are in love with the whole city and way of life here. If you don't fall in love with it, we will sense that, and you will not please us."
There was a moment of silence for all of the dozens of nude teenage girls kneeling in all directions from the one speaking Master Female to take all she'd just said in.
"Your classmate is being made an example of. Don't repeat her insane mistakes. If studying and living here is too much of a culture shock for you, stand tall, speak up, and get the fuck out. The Inisfreean realm is only for the sexy. That's it. End of story. Full stop. If you seek another path in life, there's a whole Universe for you to explore and be different out in. Go take advantage of it. Don't waste our time."
She paused for a few seconds, thinking of one more thing to add.
"And if you still miss your purged relatives, failing to acknowledge the fact that they were purged because they were addicted to countless forms of evil against you and every other lifeform out there, and think you can commit suicide by pissing us off here the way your late classmate just did, think again. We will know your true intentions, secret or otherwise, and will sentence you to the opposite of that which you seek. Be advised, kajirae class."
And with that, she strode commandingly, purposefully, chin held high, back out of the room and into the AIOW. She wasn't actually upset with any of the rest of them, and wasn't even really emotional at what the one offender had just done, and she had every reason to still trust and adore all the other girls there as her thoughtful, committed students, but her theatrics remained -and were rock solid.
The other Master Females began to walk out from where they'd been standing between the kneeling squads of Outlander girls. They, too, left the room via the AIOW, filing out as if they were choreographed like a marching band or silent drill team.
Sarah had been kept standing --the Only other girl standing with the Inisfreeans-- throughout it all; that the other girls see her -Also singled out in that way, and thereafter could not help but wonder, worry, hope, and speculate, as Sarah, too, was marched out of that central room and up into the same AIOW.
The kneeling Outlander girls, all teenagers, were left to return to their beds for another couple of hours of undisturbed sleep, or quiet discussion, or silent reflection, as they individually saw fit, while the lights of their floor of that training silo beneath the surface of the city of Inisfree, dimmed back down to almost nothing above the indirect glow of night lights and embers. The metal trash can, stained with the now brown blood of its impact with their one classmate's nose, remained on its side in the corner of the central, circular room, the arc of her blood droplets nearby, also now browning. The girls all knew that they would be expected to have it cleaned up, the floor spotless, by the time the lights came back on later that early morning.
As for what the Inisfreean Master Female meant when she'd chosen the word 'recycling', ...that was left up, on purpose, as part of the Outlander girls' psychological and emotional training, to their imaginations and speculation. It was clear that it did not merely mean 'put in a new class to start training over back at day 1'. Whatever it had meant, the one girl who had dared to excuse herself from her share of the chores had been surgically plucked right out, sentenced on the spot, and escorted out away from them without even being allowed to say goodbye. She thought she was better than the other girls. She thought that being a helping hand was beneath her. She had separated herself from them in her mind, and now she was separated from them in the flesh, as well.
There were no more Inisfreeans in their subterranean silo of decks of circular central rooms and rectangular annexes. The girls in training were by themselves again now. All was quiet and dark. The AIOW connected all of the decks of their silo was empty of any girls, Inisfreean or otherwise. Their freedom to choose had been reiterated for them. Their slavery would have to be deep and total for them to remain; they would have to Want it, Crave it, continuously Choose it, ...or the Inisfreeans would know... and eject them; ...maybe even 'recycle' them.
From his master bedroom at the top center of Inisfree's most private mansion, high up on the slope of the city's central, miles-high mountain, the King of all Inisfree, known more colloquially as 'The Governor', closed the viewing screen in his mind's eye which had allowed him to observe the whole event as though he'd been living in the body of the Master Female who'd addressed Sarah's whole deck of dozens of girls. What that Inisfreean girl, the Master Female, had thought, felt, saw, heard, smelled, and tasted... had all been transmitted directly into his mind, as easily as an Outlander might watch a program on the television, play back a voice message on the telephone, or surf the webpages of the Internet. As the connection was severed, the link fading, he could feel the hidden, internal, cloaked portals which had connected him to that daughter of his closing, and he thought about how He had felt when being trained by Drill Instructors during His time in that same, bottom-of-the-totem-pole level of the Outlands. Recruit training had been Full of those kinds of -literal- rude awakenings, psychological warfare ramp-ups, and more.
As he sat down on the edge of his vast canopy bed, the arms and tongues and whispers of a dozen unbelievably beautiful little Inisfreean females gently, politely, lovingly inviting him deeper back into the silken and vicuna sheets and pillows with them, he faintly smiled at the thought of Sarah Conrad still being amongst those girls, defiantly and wholeheartedly advancing further and further into the recruit training program as He once had with his Own version of it... and he wanted so badly to go to her and comfort her, but he knew she had to find her own strength and light from within... or else she would be robbed of that otherworldly pride of belonging and accomplishment that can only come from overcoming and triumphing more on one's own.
As the lights hidden in the walls of the slave quarters silo of Sarah Conrad and her classmates just had, so, too, did the indirect lights throughout The Governor's master bedroom slowly dim down into embers nearly nothing, and while Sarah was left to drift back off into sleep amongst the dozen nude bodies of her squadmates in training, the King of Inisfree drifted back off to sleep in the middle of a pile of more than one hundred Inisfreean girls covering the surface of his entire, room-sized bed. He wondered, for a few minutes, if Sarah, his favorite Outlander girl, was having the same initial trouble getting back to sleep that He now had. (She had been escorted up through that AIOW of her subterranean training facility to study, complete chores, and sleep on her Own for the next day and night, and hadn't been told why, and none of the other girls in her class even knew where she'd been taken.)
One of the Inisfreean girls, wrapped up around his body, snuggling as closely as anyone can, whispered warm breath into his mind, "She loves you, you know. She won't quit. She won't fail. Love conquers all, my sweet Lord Auz."
The King, 'The Governor', smiled at this, though his face was hidden in the dark of the hangar-sized master bedroom. Only the Inisfreean girls, with their godlike eyesight, would be able to see it under those conditions ...until the pool-sized skylight centered over his vast bed silently parted open to reveal its framed view of a few thousand of the stars, along with the moon-like Cloud City and a few bands of the aurora, at which point Any girl could.
"Father," that perfectly engineered, perfectly sexy female voice again lovingly whispered into that same ear of his, her silken limbs lightly sliding up and down over his flesh, as they were draped upon him, "please sleep with us."
He turned his head to face her, and they sealed their lips in a tender, lingering, goodnight kiss.
"Please sleep with Me," she whispered her warm exhale into his parted lips, once hers had left them.
Finally, he was able to. His last smile was at the wisdom and finesse of his daughter, lying next to him; at how All his children had that perfectly compatible way innate within them, ...and at how he could always tell they were right; they were correct about Sarah and her feelings for him. Cuddling with many of his daughters, smiling about them and Sarah, the Governor fell asleep.
The day had been a long one, though Sarah did not find this displeasing in the slightest. The chores had been exacted with perfection, according to the command of the Master Females and the will of her Lord, and only one of her earthen sisters was punished for an unsatisfactory job, but Sarah felt her punishment as surely as if it had been herself.
The work itself was not hard to do, the majority of it akin to housekeeping which Sarah was familiar with anyway, but she was sure she had never enjoyed it to this extent before the Inisfreeans. In fact, she couldn’t recall a time when her heart had been so glad to be folding laundry or dusting. Even the simple pleasure of kneeling was beginning to become a much loved component of her day. This was puzzling to her, yet somewhere deep within it all made sense.
Sarah flicked her summer island eyes across the room, checking and double checking the perfection with which she had laid it out. A large coral colored square blanket, softer than Egyptian cotton and smoother than silk, had been laid out beneath soft tan furs giving the impression of a beach at sunset. Crimson and white flower petals had been carefully dropped in a loose circle around the small island, and the constant lull of a waterfall trickled off at the side. The coral had been chosen for its meaning of love, desire, and warmth, the red signifying her passion, strong love, and eroticism to be had, while the white signaled her hope and innocence, and all the colors blending together told the story of a long lasting bond, unity, and love.
She hadn’t forgotten to prepare herself, as well; since she had chosen an island theme, that was how she perfumed her body; her hair smelling of ocean breeze and summer sun, her flesh of the surf rushing upon the sun-scorched sand and varying tropical flowers that would have transported him to his summer paradise. Into the shackles and tiny links connecting them at her wrists she had woven a purple ribbon, a symbol of her devotion to him, her nobility amongst the other earthen girls and the enchantment with which she had desired to beguile him with tonight, ... but it was not to be.
Instead of her handsome Master, a stunningly gorgeous, emerald-haired vixen greeted her. Amusement tugged at the corner of her mouth, for the girl was surely the descendant of mermaids and truly befitting this island-themed display. Had this been done on purpose? She didn’t know.
The nymph said her peace, and offered Sarah that one piece of contact that soothed the pain riding sharply in her heart. He would not be coming. It was a devastating blow, yet she knew this was how it had to be, for clearly he was needed elsewhere and she would abide by his wishes. Instead of his warm, muscled body to cuddle against, she was left to finger herself within the solitude of her lavish chambers, crushing flower petals within her dark hair as she rolled in frustrated fits of need, lamenting and dreaming that it was his fingers (and tongue and erection) surging inside her temple. Eventually she found sleep.
Every night thereafter, the little kajira would head to that room and prepare it as she had the first night. The theme was always changing, according to her creativeness and emotions at the time. One night it was a desert oasis, another a winter palace, and another it was a blooming flower garden. She would anoint herself according to the chosen design and despite always falling asleep alone, she was already looking forward to the next night and designing its new theme.
Upon this night she had decorated her room according to the Warriors Caste of Gor, something she had read from a book which had called to her soul though at the time she had not understood its significance. She had draped herself in diaphanous scarlet pleasure silk which she had made herself. It was little more than a poncho-like creation, the neckline dipping in a scandalous deep V that swept beneath her belly button, the back, too, had this deep V cut that exposed her pelvic dimples. The sides had been cut to expose her hips and ribs, as well as to expose the soft, supple side curve of her high, pendant breasts. She belted it with the thin piece of cloth that she had once been ordered to clean and wear about her eyes, the hem of the whole outfit riding high upon her pretty thighs. Deep rich furs had been cast to the floor, and a small banquet prepared, though it had gone untouched. Sarah had fallen asleep, nestled amongst the furs alone, and while her display had not been used, she knew it had not been for naught. His eyes always watched; she knew he knew what she was doing.
Suddenly she awoke from the world of dreams, hazel eyes staring into the inky blackness in curious wonderment. Not since she had first arrived and gone through that hideous trial of shock had she ever awoken in the night from her slumber. Fear did not prickle across her flesh, but the air held a quality she could not place. Rousing herself from the furs, combing fingers through her dark mantle of luscious hair, she soon found out what had caused her to awaken.
The lights flared, bright as day and with their illumination came the appearance of the Master Females, each one as stunning and perfect as the next. The sudden sharp blast of metal being struck had Sarah's pupils shrinking with displeasure while her ears were battered with the unsettling sound. She watched passively as the trash can was thrown and smashed into the face of one of her earthen sisters. Her heart squeezed, and small teeth bit into her lower lip as pain and blood blossomed across the stupid creature's face, but she would say nothing.
While girls flocked to kneel and watch the show and lesson being revealed before them, Sarah was wrestling within herself. She had always had issues with violence, though she understood its cleansing capabilities and would no sooner stop this from happening than chop off her own arm. The girl had chosen poorly, despite her being approached several times with helpful intent, and she had refused it; a lost cause.
What got to Sarah was the part about purged relatives. Their faces flashing before her eyes, the way they had been brutally forced to fight in front of her and kill one another. It still pained her from time to time, though she understood that they would never have been able to make it in this realm. She also understood that had they been allowed to live, she might have turned, distracted by them into their pig-ape ways, and Inisfree would have then been lost to her. She wished they could have been open to this new life, that they might have enjoyed it with her.
Glancing around at the faces of the kneeling girls, she found herself the only one to be standing amongst them and not being corrected. She gazed toward the Master Females, though none were gazing upon her with open hostility, yet she knew they could sense how she was feeling. Did it make her less of a perfect slave that she occasionally missed her family? She never held any anger toward the Inisfreeans for what they had done, for she understood the grand scheme of things, yet she lamented the pain that had been caused...even if the pain of the world before their terraforming had far outweighed the purge. Worry began to stroke its brittle fingers down the length of her spine, afraid that she would somehow be seen unfit because of this line of thinking.
As the Master Females began to leave, she felt herself tugged to follow their tide, yet none had necessarily physically reached out or moved to corral her in any way. Without a backwards glance she followed them, leaving her sisters to wonder as to what would be done with her.
Sarah's Inisfreean escort took her no farther than the top of that AIOW where she was directed to wait in a small formation of less than a dozen other kajirae in training, all of whom, for various reasons, were waiting just beyond the Receiving Facility's subterranean bullet-train station. Her escort gone now, the girls were left to stand tall and proud in silence, dutifully not even moving their eyes around to survey what they could in their fields of view. They probably all knew or guessed by now... that the Inisfreeans would be watching and hoping for them to remain disciplined even when no one seemed physical present to watch and grade them.
'Zero-five' came and went, and Sarah learned that a slave waits patiently in formation, or by herself, at the position of attention --the Gorean pleasure slave version of that position, anyway-- until her commander, master, or mistress arrives (though Inisfreeans don't use the term 'mistress', as they were all, technically, extensions of their Master's will and consciousness, among other reasons) --and it doesn't matter how long that might take; she must remain as she was left, until further notice. When the King finally deigned to show up, sometime after zero-six, teaching Sarah one more lesson, he inspected her as though she was an animal or artifact, scrutinizing every detail as if making the most scientific study to flawlessly note and label everything there was to know about her. Lying her down on her back and sliding her legs as wide open as they would go, he pushed his middle finger as far up into her pussy as he could without bruising her apex from the rest of his knuckles, and swirled it around all the way up in her like that as if he was completing a routine Papanicolaou test (a pap smear). Apparently, he concluded she had cleaned herself up enough to pass inspection, and so he snapped his fingers for her to hop to her feet and dutifully heel him once again. The other girls in her little formation stayed exactly where they were, exactly as they had been positioned, waiting for their Own rendezvous and escorts elsewhere across the great city.
The King had programmed supercomputers to recognize human body language and other subtle queues as flawlessly as facial recognition software, retinal scanners, and palm-print readers did their jobs. He noted the hint of tension in the body of the girl he'd grown so familiar with since her bold and impressive remark in the Subterranean Vatican Arena; that she indeed knew how to fuck. Only one thing that had happened that early, predawn morning would have put such an innately graceful beauty like her a bit on edge; how her class had been jolted awake and exposed to something completely out of their element --something out of the element of even many members of the special warfare community.
"If you were prone to violence instead of lovemaking, Sarah, we would have placed you in a different training program," he spoke matter of factly to her, all with that serene, calming presence and tone of his; "perhaps as one of the rare Outlander female members of the 2nd Secret Army." He was referring to the army which had quietly and clandestinely been built up in order to cancel out any attempts of the mainstream and secret armies of the hundreds of nations which Inisfree had just toppled and erased, namely The Secret Army of the United States, as it was by far the most powerful potential adversary, and the only remaining superpower. There was a time, years before the conceptualization of Inisfree, when such countermeasures were expected to be needed; when technopathic interfacing had not yet been refined (the remote controlling of humans, which their religious populations called 'demonic possession').
"I don't think you'd much enjoy that," he looked her way for a moment, reading her body language again -and as smoothly as ever, "...and that is precisely why we choose to use some of that force's methods, on blue moon occasions, to drive some of the more important points home to you and your class; they will be easy to remember in perfect detail now."
The train car they now sat in was the standard one found across Inisfree; extremely luxurious, more like a cylindrical mansion on tracks than a mere subway. Instead of the plastic seats and metal railings one expected to find in all Outlands subways, these Inisfreean trains had studded leather armchairs, recliners, canopy beds, overlapping translucent silk curtains and draperies, sconces, and just about everything made out of precious metals and gemstones originally as large as cars. It wasn't to intimidate or show off their technical prowess; Inisfreeans just liked nice things, great works of art, and pampering themselves and their guests. They were born to build and maintain Heaven on Earth; the most majestic realm imaginable, and that was precisely what they did.
After the events which had so incredibly altered the course of her life just months prior, there was an obvious checklist of discussion topics which the King felt would be prudent now to cover, and so he did, perhaps at times seeming as if he was able to read her mind. "Sometimes I miss my biological relatives, too," he added as their train car continued its acceleration and trajectory void of any sensations of their changes in momentum, common sense reminding him of what she and most of her sisters in training had to be thinking from time to time. "If there had been some other way to save our world in that eleventh hour, I know I would have taken that other way, ...but then Inisfree would have been stalled again and again and again, possibly Never arising." He let that resonate within her for a moment; just how close it all came to never beginning in the first place. "Humans would have continued to argue and infight until the chaos they lost control of finished polluting the entire planet into total and permanent death. We did what one does with beasts who are trained not to listen, think, cooperate, or change; we triggered the next mass extinction in order to prevent a Total extinction --just as was done with the dinosaurs... and several Other major groups even before Them."
The fancy, high-definition, interactive map of the city from a top-down perspective continued to display their rapidly changing location and projected remaining route within its gold painting frame fused to the surface of the green marble wall near their generously padded leather seats. The frame was intricately carved; what one would see in the finest museums and art exhibits in the richest countries of the Outlands, and the image it bordered showed that they were taking a subway track which brought them around a wide loop to the polar opposite side of the city from the Receiving Facility where she was living and training with all those other Outlander girls.
"I dedicated Decades of my life to trying to talk sense into so many of their kind," he said, his eyes clearly going over a number of memories about the grueling effort. "It was only when we'd exhausted all remaining options and hopes... and were under frequent, malicious, shameless, senseless attack, ...that we launched the offensive to put an end to their pollutions and cancerous, insane existence once and for all."
He turned to look into Sarah's eyes now, "Violence was always the very last option for me, too. I gave every one of them every possible chance to learn, realize, evolve, and turn their lives and society around... and that decision to remain nonviolent for as long as was possible... cost the lives of untold trillions of other lifeforms the world over."
He looked down at her hands and her lap for a moment, speaking as if starting to go over those memories again, "...The costs of Any decision in the time before Inisfree... were staggering. ...It is a Miracle we even survived at all -Any of us."
'Auz', as the Inisfreeans sometimes got to call him, though slaves certainly Never would, took Sarah on that bullet-train ride over to the station just outside Inisfree's vast zoo. There, upon walking up those white and gold, wide and somehow softly smooth steps from the subway station to the grassy surface, she saw a pale blonde haired girl with lavender colored eyes who was sitting amongst, and absentmindedly petting the foreheads and noses of, two fully-grown dragons; dragons, just as he had mentioned to Sarah's slave class before. The dragons seemed as intelligent and peaceful as any humans would be, but when the Governor approached them, Sarah heeling him, both of those long-necked, long-tailed, darkly-scaled beasts slowly raised up their heads and pointed them and their snake-like eyes directly at Sarah, flicking their tongues out toward her to pick up her scent and taste her from a distance.
There was a tall fence made of vertical braces and industrial-strength metal cables; the kind one would see on the largest highway suspension bridges of the Outlands... but nothing seemed to be keeping those great, flying wyrms from simply leaping or soaring right up and over it. The fence, much like what was used across Jurassic Park, therefore seemed more to keep the sightseers back at a respectful distance from those proud creatures, rather than to confine the dragons to the paddock which was their home.
The lavender-eyed blonde girl rose to her feet and eagerly walked through the circular opening in that tall metal fence and up to greet the King, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately for a minute straight before smiling and gazing at his lips, "My King!"
"It is always my great pleasure to see you again," he rumbled to her, his strong arms closed snugly around the small of her back. "I brought this slave girl here to see that the rumors about our dragons are not merely rumors."
The girl in his arms giggled and couldn't help but smile widely at him, knowing his kind of games and joking.
"Sarah here will tell the others in her kajirae class what she has seen up here once she returns."
An Unsettling Feeling:
A few minutes later, the incredibly quick bullet-train had whisked them away along its groove beneath Inisfree's superhighway, and he was stepping back out of its car's double-doors, leaving his middle finger raised up from his side so that Sarah would see it and know to hurry up to get it into her pussy so she could heel him as he desired her to. Keeping his finger hooked up into her sex like that, he led her away from the station and up over the rolling foot-hills of an area between the city's Perimeter Wall and one of its mountain ridges. As they walked up into the rising, rolling terrain, Sarah could see that hundreds of wooden crosses had been placed with their bottom timbers down deeply into the earth, and that several of the crosses had teenage girls crucified on them.
"Remember not to let my finger slip out from your slit, slave," he cautioned her, anticipating her freezing in her tracks at such a brutal sight. Again, his tone was calm, but it carried with it this time an air of foreboding if she was to falter. He loved her, but shying away from any part of her training would result in ejection back into the now almost emptied Outlands.
They continued to stroll up toward and amidst the large wooden crosses. Some of the crucified girls were merely bound by twine to their crosses, while others had actually been nailed up to them through their palms and ankles. A muffled screeching sounded up within the cloud cover a mile above them; it sounded like what one would imagine one of those massive, winged serpents from Inisfree's zoo to sound like. Auz wiggled his middle finger inside Sarah's pussy to remind her not to lose track of it, lest she end up on one of those crosses.
"You are here to witness what happens to outsiders who attempt to wrong us," he told Sarah, ever speaking in that calm, smooth, inviting voice of his. "Naturally, this is so you will tell your sisters in training what has transpired here, if they ask. These are the Rape Fields."
The screech from high above sounded again, and as they looked up, the shadowy outline of one of the fully-grown dragons rapidly appeared and darkened as it skillfully dropped down through the bottom of the cloud directly above them. Tucking in its wings for a few seconds, it accelerated into a nose-dive straight for them, and Auz made no effort to steady Sarah; she was expected to remain calm, confident, and motionless at his side. If his finger left her slit due to her falling away from it, whether from stumbling, running, or fainting, she would be woken up with the fist and the whip, and that would only be the first and the Least of her worries. All kajirae were expected to do as their Master wished at all times; to remain sexy at all times.
The dragon, now completely in view, covered in a natural chainmail of nearly-black scales, and with golden snake's eyes, swooped down, opening and flapping its vast wings several times, causing a gale force wind and rapid series of gusts to almost knock the wind right out of all of their lungs, whipping their hair about in the maelstrom as it lowered its speed, slowing its descent. Hovering in the air above them for a moment, its car-sized foot of extra-large eagle-talons made quick work of removing one of the crucified girl's heads in a single snip. Blood fountained up from her decapitated corpse and her eyes continued to look around and blink in horror as her head was flung high up into the air, suddenly snatched up by the snapping shut, razor-fanged mouth of a second dragon which darted over the mountain ridge and straight overhead in a single second, catching the anticipated bodypart with surgical precision and perfect timing, and disappearing in a blur just as suddenly as it continued its flight off in the other direction.
Auz wriggled his finger one more time inside Sarah's pussy, reminding her to stand her ground. The first dragon, now easing its large legs down to make landfall, bit a second crucified girl in half, splitting her laterally across her waistline, leaving her intestines, heart, and other organs to spill out and tumbled down onto the blood-soaked ground below her nailed feet at the base of her wooden cross. The other girls were now screaming and pleading, some of them turning ghost-white in the complete and utter terror of it all, and the girls who were shackled by their collars to the bases of the crosses... began to emit muffled screams and wailing through the burlap material of the dung sacks their heads were stuffed and tied into.
The dragon now stood up to its full height, towering many stories above all the tip-tops of the crosses and their crucified girls. Again it screeched, but this time it was like a deafening tornado siren or sonic canon going off right above and all around them, and it shook the very ground upon which they stood, vibrating inside their bodies so deeply that it trembled their bones. It was the cry of Godzilla, but real and in person; right in their faces, and it was chilling to say the least.
Easing back down and moving as proudly as any apex predator ever could, the godlike black dragon cast its golden eyeballs and their abysmal vertical slits toward a third of the crucified girls. The great beast almost seemed to be wolfishly grinning as its nostrils sucked in air, its van-sized torso expanding as its ribs widened to allow its lungs to fill with another gust of air, and then a thirty foot long jet of blinding-bright fire shot out from its mouth as its chest shrank back down again, blowing out all that processed air along with a spray of igniting chemicals from its internal venom sacks, roasting the third girl to a crisp in a matter of seconds.
The air was immediately rank with the overpowering stench of overcooked flesh, singed air, the odors of more than a few of the girls losing control of their bladders and bowels, and the distinctive smells of carbon, sulfur, and the coppery, iron-laden qualities of human blood. The King made the beckoning motion with his middle finger still inside Sarah, again reminding her not to fuck up by moving away from it and the rest of the gruesome, nightmarish scene exploding and roaring all around her.
From there on, every time Sarah felt a finger move inside her pussy, part of her mind would remember these mortifying scenes. Every time she detected the very first scents of an overcooked meal, she would remember these smells, and then these sights... and everything else that transpired on these fields today. It was unlikely she would ever be able to stomach burning a single thing in the oven, or doing anything even remotely possibly displeasing whenever she was fingered. Even fingering herSelf from this moment on... would be a reminder to do so very, very well, and to relish her extensive freedoms -even as a slave.
On Gor, girls who are not sexy are often immediately fed alive to the various wild and carnivorous beasts of that world. On Earth, in Inisfree, the Inisfreeans do the same. One may always opt to leave, but one may never stay after being displeasing, much less disgusting, to an Inisfreean.
Corralling the Offenders:
A few of the Master Females standing guard as wardens and slave-herders around the Rape Fields moved in as the dragon beat its wings down and took off in another rush of gale-force winds. As it skillfully soared higher and higher up above them, disappearing back up into the Inisfreean cloud cover, they turned all of the crosses still with living girls crucified on them so that each girl was directly facing the three who had been slain; the decapitated girl, the bisected girl with her head slumped forward and her chin resting down on her collarbone, and the girl whose black, gooey flesh was now oozing and crumbling off of her soot-colored skeleton. Each time these remaining crucifixion victims closed their eyes or looked away, even though they were already crucified, they were whipped and poked with glowing branding irons. Those who lost control of their bowels had their lower orifices cauterized shut.
A few of the girls shackled by their collars to the base of these crosses were unlocked and, still with their heads tied inside the dung sacks, led away by the curved end of crowbars hooked up inside their assholes. Carrying the dung sacks their heads were stuffed and tied within, they had to walk backwards, unable to see a thing, and forced to keep from stumbling and falling, lest their anal sphincters be torn --or their intestines be punctured-- by falling on the crowbars. Taken down into one of the grass-covered hatches which led to the uppermost room of one of the city's tunnel network silos below ground level, their fate seemed to be left up to the imagination... until the King turned to Sarah, wriggled his finger inside her pussy to signal her to snap out of whatever mind loop she might have been in, and follow him as she had heeled him before. They were going to see what fate lay in store for the girls who had heard the roars of the dragons, felt the heat waves of their fiery breath, smelled the burning flesh and hair, heard the spilling, splashing blood, organs, and bowels, but been unable to see a thing, and felt only their own pounding heartbeats -and the clumps of dung pressing against all sides of their faces and heads.
Sarah was led down into the same double-doors on the ground that opened into the top-floor room of one of Inisfree's many thousands of silos; vertical cylindrical prisms the size of nuclear missile housing and launch tubes, each of which was divided into numerous floors, shipping containers as radial annexes, and a mesh-like grid of linking service tunnels connecting them all (in groups of nine) to one another. Boarding a special subway car designed Not to be luxurious, but as spartan and uncomfortable as possible, Sarah got to see the rarest of restricted-access Inisfreean processes; the handling and punishment of those who had intentionally offended Inisfree.
Four girls, each holding the dung sack tied around her head, were shoved into the subway car, stumbling and tripping over one another until they crashed into the wall on the far side and slumped down into a pile together in the corner. The subway car's double doors were not silent here; they slid shut with the eerie creaking one would hear in a horror movie or haunted house, or in an old and condemned factory, sounding like nails dragged across a chalkboard; metal screeching hard against more metal, just before they audibly tapped shut and clicked locked. Also unlike all other subway cars in Inisfree, this one did not have inertial dampeners, and so when it began to move, it lurched forward, keeping all of them on their toes and off balance as it changed velocities several times along the restricted tunnel through which it moved.
Taking a hold of one of the industrial, primitive, New York City style handlebars used in this anti-luxurious subway car, the King let his finger slide out of Sarah's pussy so that his free arm could wrap around her and squeeze her close to his chest, keeping her safe for what was to come. A few seconds later, the subway car seemed to hit something on the tracks, leaving a loud bang noise to fill and echo back and forth through the seemingly tin can composed passenger compartment. The whole subway car also skipped up over a bump on the track at this time, causing the pile of four girls to bump their heads and elbows and heels on multiple metal surfaces, leaving them crying out in pain and fear as they began to shake uncontrollably, no doubt still expecting another dragon or equally vicious beast to come for them at any moment.
The double-doors began to screech and creak open again, and another squad of Master Females boarded the train, taking one girl a piece and dragging her out by whichever of her ankles looked the most bruised and sore. One of the girls started to beg and plead again, muffled through her burlap dung sack, and another Master Female walked up and started kicking the dung sack until the girl got a mouthful of dung and started choking and coughing it back out, gagging on it and heaving before retching all over her own face. All of her vomit was trapped inside the bag with her, and she was kicked in the face a couple more times to make sure it got in her hair, nose, and eyes.
The King took Sarah by the back of her neck this time, firmly yet supportively, knowing she might not have the intestinal fortitude to remain dutifully at his side for the next part, and marched her with him behind the squad of Master Females and their four prisoners all the way down into the most hidden and off-limits cave chamber of the Underway...
At the top of the AIOW, which she had adored chasing her escort up through if only to bat her fingers against the silken ends of the goddess girl's hair (of course careful never to catch and pull), Sarah glanced to the small formation of girls she was being led to join. A few , she noted, had been allotted simple things...a strip of cloth here, a metal band there, it seemed these were the top picks (so far) among the Earth girls, and none were as decorated as she was, though its meaning could go either way.
Once in place, a strict discipline that was becoming second nature set in. No one shifted, cast their gaze needlessly about, or made so much as a sigh of noise. All waited patiently, as was required of them, with perfection. Sarah had no idea why she had been brought here, or what was planned. She only knew she was being made to wait as was desired. Time passed, but the surprise to step into view was well worth the wait (as all things were in Inisfree).
Heart thudded as the atmosphere changed, and she felt his approach like a subtle caress to her skin, disturbing the fine hairs coating her body. The scarlet pleasure silk made her feel a thousand times more naked before him, none of her lovely curves hidden behind the sheer veil but announced more brazenly and displayed with barbaric passion. In silence he began to search her over, seeming to keep a mental tally of her every dimple, curve, freckle, muscle twitch, eye blink etc. He inspected her mouth, the rows of her small white teeth, the coloring of her gums. He inspected the alignment of her arms, shoulders, hips and spine. He inspected the strength of her legs and ankles. He even inspected her pussy, which had her inhaling deeply and shuddering with utter pleasure, her need a beast unto itself that could only be tamed, silenced and sated by his. At his command, she sprang back to her feet, naked soles padding silently in his wake as she heeled him beautifully. Sarah did not gaze back at the other girls, though this was not done out of snobbery but, rather, all her attention was thus upon her Master.
Sarah was still on edge, despite her joy of seeing her beloved Master that she was striving so hard to please and entice with her sultry slave self. It almost startled her that he noticed this disturbance beneath her smooth pond surface, her cheeks heating as she realized she should not be so shocked by this; a slave could hide no secrets from her Master and nor did she wished to. Love outpoured from the silk clad girl as she dutifully and sexily followed him, happy to be under the lash and mastery of him; only such a man, so finely attuned to her, could truly be her Master. “ yes, Master; I had feared that my inability to be acclimated to violence would somehow deem me unfit and imperfect for you and Inisfree.” Voice as soft as a wisp, insubstantial as smoke, yet she knew he heard her as clearly as if she had spoken within his ear. “ you are very wise, Master. I thank you for the lessons you and the Master Females, have imparted to me."
The lavish decor of the subway and its cars always took her breath away. She marveled at the speed of the vehicle, at its liquid smooth motion that she could not physically sense so much as know, internally; that it was indeed moving. Again the King struck home with his words, making her heart soar and her love for him expand. Tears glittered within her eyes as she soothed the last of her stress’s; it was okay to miss her family and she was relieved to know it. “ Yes, Master,” plush lips would respond, her eyes riveted to his face unless he commanded her otherwise.
There had been a time when she thought his methods cruel, but then, were not humans cruel? She remembered the endless media stories of child molestation, animal torture, thievery, lying, prejudice, scandals, wars, death, inhuman tortures, starvation….the list went on and on. Part of her heart ached for all those who died or suffered through the cleansing, losing those they loved for the sake of the salvation of the planet. Part of her wept for all the innocents that could have been unfairly caught up in the cleansing but she also knew this was part of nature. Forest fires claimed countless innocent lives, yet they were necessary, as some trees would not grow without the fire's flames to burst their seeds free. If fires didn’t occur, those animals would have suffered and died of starvation as the trees weakened and died. It saddened her, but she knew it to be necessary.
Sarah followed her Master dutifully, following his every cue to the best of her abilities in her desire to be found pleasing by him. Most pleasantly, what often was right within her heart was what was pleasing to him.
Jewel tone hazels widened in astonishment as she set eyes upon the great and majestic beasts of fairytale and legend. A girl, who reminded Sarah of the outlanders character, Daenerys from Game of Thrones, was settled amongst them and caressing them with love and respect. Awe, coupled with fear, adoration, surprise, joy and longing all swirled into a maelstrom within the slave girl as she beheld the beasts. She stood as proud as ever, keeping her physical frame relaxed that the beasts not take offense from a rigid pose from her. She knew they could scent everything about her, and hoped they would not swoop upon her and swallow her, or turn her to ash for the emotions swirling inside her.
She watched, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as the blonde rose, exiting the paddock and greeting Lord Auz. Though no commands were spoken to her, Sarah would subtly incline her head in acceptance of what her Master was telling the girl. She would indeed become teacher to her classmates.
An Unsettling Feeling:
Back upon the train, Sarah wondered what else the King would show her this day. His raised finger beckoned to be sheathed by her pussy, and she would swiftly rush to do his silent bidding. By the hook of his finger inside her clutching silken walls, and by the drift of his body, she was led on words. It wasn’t until she made out the shapes of crosses that the first hints of foreboding began to press slick tongues against her nerves. Then she saw the first crucified girl, her stomach rioting in threat to expel its contents and then she saw the second; Another, then another and then there were too many for her to count.
Footsteps faltered, but being the kind Master he was, he cautioned her. Shudders racked down her frame as tears welled within her eyes, she cast them towards the ground as she continued in pace with her Master. She carefully kept his finger lodged deep within her heat, grateful to have something to concentrate on other than the moaning, weeping, dying girls now surrounding her. The screech from above made her flinch, another few steps faltered but she managed to keep her feet. His finger wiggled, she knew she had to be more diligent. “ Y-yes Master..” Sarah answered tearfully, slowly raising her eyes to gaze upon the horrors around her, her heart galloping within her chest. She would look upon the suffering of the others, and vow to ensure those still being trained would know of this place and be saved from its horrors.
Another screech had Sarah gazing up, sidling closer to her Master with the desire to perhaps soak up and obtain a measure of his strength and steadfast calmness. She knew what was expected of her….perfection in the face of everything...even her worst fears brought to life.
The winds from the beasts' wings tugged and wavered through the silk on her body, tossing her dark hair and making Sarah narrow her eyes against the upkick of earthen debris. For a moment she couldn’t breathe within the gale force winds, until the beast was hovering like a bestial angel in the sky.
Sarah blanched as one moment a girl had been moaning with despair and pain, then suddenly she was headless. Blood spewed out in horrific mockery of a fountain that had the edges of Sarah's vision blurring with darkness, her breathing deepened into yoga breaths that swelled her lungs. Head eaten, dragon leaving, Sarah continued to stand and breathe.
Again she was reminded of the charge within her inner temple's clutch. Though her muscles felt weak and she was certain she would buckle at any moment, she miraculously remained standing at her Master's side. Another girl was bitten in half, the gore spilling out onto the ground, making Sarah's insides give a violent heave that she barely managed to swallow back. Screams rose all around her, and Sarah knew herself to be in hell. Teeth gnashing, blood pouring, urine dripping, anuses spewing, vomit erupting…..all from the girls upon the crosses, and Sarah didn’t know how much more she could take.
Heartbeat stuttered within her chest from the dragons' cry. Sarah wanted nothing more than to run, but to do so would displease her Master and she feared his wrath above all else. The dragon unleashed a fire so intense, Sarah felt scorched by its heat. The burning flesh, coupled with all the other pungent smells of death, decay, sickness, rot and fear all swirled together in a toxic nightmare. The finger inside her wiggling again, tears streaming down her face as she trembled like he had shoved her out into the arctic cold, “ please, Master..” she’d whimper, begging for some sort of release from this hell that he had brought her to. She longed to help those girls lining the fields, to end their pain and suffering despite that they had caused so much in their lives and to the Inisfreeans. Of course, she could do no such thing; this was her Master's will and he would do as he pleased. The finger inside her was torture, yet it gave her a point to focus on; an anchor amid the chaos.
Corralling the Offenders:
The horrors were not to end there. The girls were turned to view the handiwork of the dragons upon their sisters in bondage. Screams renewed, flesh hissed beneath branding irons, whips cracked and sliced open red weeping lines and Sarah finally vomited as a girl's lower parts were cauterized shut.
Fear wracked her, that she would be punished for such a reaction, but this she could not handle and could not be pleasing during despite her best efforts. She wretched again, keeping herself turned that Auz not be soiled by her expulsion, his finger still kept lodged within herself. She wiped her mouth, silently weeping, her head bowed as they followed the girls whose tortures had only just begun.
They boarded another subway, but this was the train of Hades, of demons and other evils of the world. The screeching of the door set her teeth on edge, her fingers flexed and unflexed with tension, she could only imagine what it was like for the girls in the sacks; She could See...and she was Still terrified. The King was kind enough to remove his finger from her and hold her against him, keeping her steady…. She wept for the girls; how brutal this all seemed.
Sarah wasn’t sure what to make of this; her Master had been strict but always kind, yet this proved how merciless he could be if given reason. She greatly feared his displeasure. The Master Females were brutal and merciless in the tactics, cold and sharp as ice shards. The slave girl couldn’t watch as the girls were further tortured and abused.
A firm hand on the back of her neck guided her to the next episode of horrors to be revealed. Sarah could only pray for a swift death for these girls; a prayer she knew would go unheard and she continued to weep silently. For the first time since she had come to Inisfree, she felt death breathing icily down her neck, guilt winding its clammy arms around her, fear scraping her flesh raw, and the light of her soul starting to dim. Perhaps she was not cut out for Inisfree after all...
The King's Burden:
It hurt and emotionally scarred the King more than Sarah could probably sense or realize thus far; having to pick one of her Outlander kind to endure and relay all this was not something he had ever planned or wanted to resort to. The fact that it was Sarah out of all the billions his kind had studied, screened, and processed; this Outlander girl who had somehow proven intelligent and captured his heart, was utterly fucking Hell on him. When she had trembled and whimpered, begged and vomited, he had Hated having to stay steely --Hated having to keep his finger in her; a sexual gesture that Inisfreeans preferred to keep as their form of holy; something only done in the most blissful of settings. He thought for sure this poor little Outlander girl at his side would pass out and, upon waking up, hate him for the rest of her life... and flee his city. He knew that if she did, He would be the one to break down and cry, though he would never blame or try to stop her. One should not chase someone running from such things. His breed was a lonely one; only His kind had been exquisitely trained to think almost nothing of Hell. Hers... Hers had not, and that's just how things were. But Someone had to be put through this terrible trial and rite of passage; someone had to be First Girl, top kajira without a shadow of a doubt, capable of confidently leading them all.
The King stopped in his tracks, turned to face his prospective slave girl, and looked down purposefully into her eyes, resting his warm hand around her left shoulder. "Before you think on, and before you return to your sisters in training," the King softly and tenderly told her, "I want you to hear one more time that you are free to leave this realm whenever you please, and that no harm will come to you if you choose to; that I and my people here will even go so far as to help you in your journey, and make sure you have everything you need to start a stable and meaningful life in whichever Outlands realm you fancy. You are under no obligation to stay here, and I know that on these extremely rare occasions when we have to punish and end some of the Outlanders, it is always going to make you fear and cry. It bothers me much in those same ways, too, and I do not like when things get to this point. I have had decades of training, conditioning, field experience, and desensitization to get me to the point you see today when I can calmly order and carry out such severe sentencing. I know and appreciate that you have not had my training or other experiences; that witnessing these things is traumatic for you, as it still is, to an extent, to me."
Now he brought his other hand up to warmly cup Sarah's right shoulder, as well. "You are also free to tell your sisters in training what you saw here in any way you like. I hope you will give them an accurate and objective account, but I will not punish you for choosing your own words, or when and how to express all this to them, or for having whatever natural emotional reactions you have to these things. Just do your best to educate your sisters about this stuff; to ensure they understand that if they choose to stay and intentionally wrong us and their fellows, punishment will be profound. I should add, though, that while there are stories of places where people are tortured for eternities, I only exact these punishments on our most heinous offenders for a few hours, only after we have exhausted every possible form of intervention, always healing up any wounds they incur here, and always offering them another chance to change or move away. Considering that the only people who ever get sentenced to this part of Inisfree... have attempted poisonings, blackmails, child abuse, disfigurements, perjury, murder, and worse, ...I think that is fair."
The King's eyes moved to look down at Sarah's feet for a moment as he thought and arranged his next words to be as gentle on her and reassuring as possible. "It is likely you will fear me as a monster after what you have witnessed in this part of Inisfree, Sarah, and you would be right to do so; in part, each of us can be monstrous when it comes to protecting our loved ones. I am a monster sometimes. I choose to be because it works when we are Faced with monsters. When other things work, I always choose those other, non-monstrous ways, but sometimes, I will be the first to admit to you, I am an absolute terror. I was trained that way so that I could be the scariest demon on the battlefield --ANY battlefield-- and so that no matter how hellacious any war became, it would always still feel just like a mere playground to me. I was put through Hell since childhood; since my earliest memories, and it was only in learning those dark and shadow arts, among all the other things I learned, that I was able to fight my way Out of that hell... and carve out this place we call Inisfree."
It was time to see the next nightmarish punishment method the Inisfreeans enforced against the tiny number of Outlanders who went out of their way to judge and hurt the Inisfreeans in a futile attempt to sadden and destroy their new and private realm. "If you cannot stomach any more for today, Sarah," he used her name to give her at least one more thing familiar and welcome to hold onto, "we can take a break, or stop entirely, and I will look for some other girl in your training class to witness this next thing and convey it to you and the others there. You are in training to become a great kajira, Sarah, but because of how heavy these things today are --on Anyone-- I leave this decision up to you. Do you want to push through your emotions and become the intermediary between the goddesses here and our Outlander guests, or would you rather just return to the Receiving Facility and still graduate as a distinguished and beloved kajira?" He realized he should probably add one more thing at this point before she had her chance to say whatever she felt she needed to; "And if this ruins our realm for you, ...and you feel Inisfree just isn't for you anymore, again, though I will miss you, you are free to leave and never have to look back."
He looked at her with sadness and composure in his eyes, and his hands still resting around her shoulders. She would be able to see through those windows into his soul that he did truly hate this part of their journey together; hated the fact that Inisfree still had such enemies that nothing else worked to change their minds, and that he was sincere about his commitment to honor Sarah's decision and help her start another new life elsewhere if that was what she wanted. The King waited, quietly gulping once, for his favorite girl's answer.
Haunted and teary hazels peered up at the King, the rims of her eyelids reddening from the salt of her tears. The girl was clearly fighting back sobs, expecting at any moment that he would find her weakness disgraceful and toss her among those still being dragged ahead for punishment. She flinched as he raised a hand and rested upon her shoulder, a fear of her own mind rather than his making. In silence she listened to him, trembling in his grasp, soaking in his words as her heart felt shattered and her soul felt raw with pain.
His words were soothing, she was free to leave if she wished but that would mean exiling herself from him. She was free to have her emotions as they came, for inhibitions here were frowned upon and punished rather than upheld and congratulated. The displays of emotion, therefore, were in perfect keeping with him and Inisfree...she was not as weak, disgusting or displeasing as she originally thought herself to be. Her eyes swept to the girls still being tugged away, she could barely make them out now. They would have a chance to right the wrongs they had done, and honestly what more could she ask for?
Sarah thought about asking him to just slay those girls vile enough to earn this hell, but that would teach them nothing nor would it allow them to have changes of heart. All she could do... was bear witness to the horrors, relay them to her sisters and ensure that none ever made it this far into the displeasures and offenses of Inisfree... even if she had to beat them herself.
“ We are all that is and ever shall be…” Sarah would murmur in a ghost of a whisper, the metal links connecting her braceleted hands clinking softly as she raised them to press her palms against his chest; his flesh was warm, his heart was beating and she knew him to be a man of a tortured life. “ We are everything light and everything dark….. To condemn another before understanding the situations that drove him to making that decision, whatever it be, is one of our greatest sins. If I was in your place…..Master…..most likely I would do the same.”
She saw him for the tortured soul he was, not just for the brave and brazen King of a new people, the likes of which the worlds had never seen. Her name upon his lips assuaged some of the ache she had begun to feel and cooled the feverish sickness that was still rioting within her person at the sights, sounds and smells. Again he offered her peace, and a way out of the horrors that were being shown to her. Part of her wanted to shun it, to turn and run and never look back, but who would that help? If she ran, she would only be serving herself and even then that would not truly be serving herself because she would always remember the day she failed her sisters, Master Females, Inisfree and above all, her King...all because she had been too afraid --not to mention the nightmares that would torture her to the end of her days.
Everything was an opportunity. Within the King's eyes she saw her paths, the first becoming what he was grooming her to be; First Girl to Inisfree (though currently she was unaware of the import of that title), being a guide to her sisters and ambassador to those outside and to the Inisfreeans in the hopes that bloodshed and offense could be avoided. She could stop here, offer the amount of knowledge she had obtained, still become a high ranking kajira...but not the grand creature that he had been desiring. She could leave, but in his eyes she saw that both their hearts would be broken, their spirits shattered, and while his would maintain and carry on...perhaps even find another kindred spirit...she would wither and die in the outlands... alone.
Stepping closely to him, her breasts pressing through the silk and flattening against his chest as she leaned her body against his, the slave lifted up on tip toe to fit her mouth over that of her Master's, if he allowed it, and poured her heart and soul into that single kiss. In that kiss was a spell that would reveal to him the depths of her love and softness, the perfection that she was not yet but eventually would become for him, the goddess he had sought before Inisfree and only now had found. In that kiss, she poured her lust and passion, her pain and sorrow; everything of herself she poured to him, that he might know her more intimately than he already did. Slender hands feathered across his skin, her cheeks heated from the exchange yet still she trembled with her fear of what she was about to do. “ I-I wish to continue... This is the path being opened to me, and while it is not an easy one, I know I must take it to fulfill my destiny. This place is a festering wound within the beauty of Inisfree...and I shall not stop laboring until it is snuffed out and forgotten to the past...a past belonging to demons, monsters and nightmares that almost destroyed a planet with their ego, cold hearts and greed.”
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she steeled herself for what was to come next, a violent tremor nearly rocking her off her feet but she somehow remained standing. The girl was clearly terrified, but in her eyes she was determined and she had meant what she said. As soon as I become First Girl...this place will no longer be needed, ...she’d vow.
Together Into the Unknown:
Sarah didn't know it yet, but she had already been regarded as a genius, and had a Huge say in many of the things, big and small, which went on and became policy in Inisfree --and even so far out beyond the Earth as the Inisfreean Space armadas had begun to explore. Since the first time the Inisfreean scouts deep in the Outlands years before the Rapture had noticed her aptitude, she had been clandestinely protected, prized, and desired. She was the shining example of everything the Inisfreean people, and so many other intelligent and loving beings from so many other races, both on Earth and abroad, had longed and wished and worked toward, yet always never fully dared hope for. Having been that highly esteemed even way back then, after all she had done in the presence of the Inisfreeans, and especially while here in their capital city, she was already regarded as a demi-goddess, and soon, perhaps, much more so.
What she said to the King was all true, every word, and it resonated within his soul perfectly; something that almost Never happened between his kind and hers. Her words were destined spells to heal and stabilize and enlighten him, and he took them in like water after a lifetime of struggling in the Sahara. When she submissively leaned in to kiss him, he did, of course, meet her lips with his, and he kissed her back in all the same beautiful and wholehearted ways that she was kissing him. It was effortlessly, natural, and unstoppable, and he wouldn't have missed a kiss like that, especially from her, for the world.
"Alright, then," he softly rumbled to her, taking one of her smaller hands in both of his own; "let's get this over with and I will Never put you through anything anywhere near this dark and unfortunate again." He then hugged Sarah warmly and tightly, and for a minute straight, with both his arms all the way around her, giving her time and help to calm down, restabilize, and recharge and steel herself for what she was about to walk into deep below the surface of the city. "This is indeed a festering wound and a terrible scar that taints the intended purity and heavenliness of this whole city and realm of ours, and I intend for you to help me make it obsolete and gone as soon as possible, no and's, if's, or but's. I wouldn't have anywhere near as much faith in that becoming a reality if I had chosen any other girl in the whole world to help me with that."
Their hug continued until he could feel her trembling settle down at least enough to where it wasn't causing his Own heart to ache for her. "Remember, you can stop at any time. I will walk you back up and out of where we are going. I will not punish you if you just can't stand to witness it, and I want you to know that I can tell how much you want to be a pleasing kajira. Everyone in Inisfree knows that about you and cherishes it like you wouldn't believe. You have nothing to fear here. Ever." And then, this time, it was He who offered Her his lips just as passionately and soulfully as she had just offered him hers. That wasn't very usual of him, but Sarah wasn't at all a usual girl.
He looked back in the direction of the tomb-like double doors waiting for Sarah's decision as to whether they should part open or remain shut until the next prospective slave girl mustered up the fortitude to dare step within and beyond them. "What is beyond this point will scare and sadden the ever loving shit out of you," he spoke frankly, more like a normal man and her friend than a lofty immortal king, and offered her an understanding look, "as it would Anyone, Sarah, ...but these prisoners we are punishing in this way are capital offenders who have dismissed every single one of our attempts to ask them to cease their attacks and leave us in peace. Had we not gone to these levels of response, untold numbers of innocent, peaceful, loving people would have suffered and died at the hands of these deceptive and shameless offenders. ...I know... because I once, not many years ago, was one of their victims... many, many times in rapid succession." He paused, clearly living through all those heartless traps all over again, though standing as tall and unshaken as ever. "For those who showed no mercy, and targeted true heroes when they were down and crippled, we have no choice but to show no mercy in return... for now." There was always a better, brighter way... tomorrow.
He looked back to Sarah to make sure she was really serious and ready to step into a real-life glimpse of Hell on Earth; to a dungeon of punishments proportional only to the most evil of humans, and punishments which made executions, like the ones she had just seen, even when carried out by dragons and crucifiers, seem lenient and brief. His arms were still protectively and warmly around her, their hug still slowly winding down, and only as he sensed she was ready to walk on her own again. It also lingered, she would surely on some primal level sense, because he was in love with her, and because these terrifying defensive measures were not at all his nature.
When Sarah Conrad's next words or body language gave her King the cue, they would turn and proceed, hand in hand, through that final portal into the depths of the only bad part of their city... and the whole time, he knew, he would be trying to hide his Own fears and trembling, namely his fear that it would bring their budding relationship to a crashing and devastating end. Such was how Inisfreeans thought and cared.
Sarah Steels Both Herself and Her Master:
Sarah lifted her free hand, to kiss her palm against the side of his face and caress his cheek with the slide of her thumb. “ As you wish Master, let it be so.” She welcomed his embrace, cuddling into the wall of his chest and safety of his arms to draw strength for the next leg of the journey. Perhaps what was plaguing her most was her errant thoughts.
Letting his words bond with her, heal her and strengthen her, his kiss sealed all his love within her. As always, her body and mouth opened to his passions as if she was a lock specially made for his key. There was a moment she wished to argue, that simply just ending their lives without the torture might be a better option...but then she remembered a history lesson. Bloody Mary, daughter of King Henry and the Tudor lineage, had burned more people than the Spanish Inquisition and the French Wars of Religion put together. That had been horrifying enough, but one story stuck in her mind...that of pregnant women being burned at the stake, their babies born in the fires and being tossed upon the flames as if their lives meant nothing. Perhaps these girls were as offensive as that? But still she ached inside, for torture, even for the worst of the worst, sickened her. She would not wish it upon her worst enemy. “Death is more merciful, but if this be your wish I will not say anything against it.” She would not hide her thoughts from him.
Squaring her shoulders, she girded herself to enter into the gates of hell that were the stone doors before her. His arms still wrapped around her eased her tension a little and made it that much easier to face this test of his. It was now or never, and she would subtly cue him with her body to proceed, trying not to hold her breath or stiffen which would undoubtedly spread the toxins of panic and sickness that often plagued Outlanders. " I am ready, my Master..." as ready as I'll ever be.
The Rape Cave:
The King turned Sarah back to face him just one more time, holding her shoulders in his firm grips, and looked directly down into her eyes. One more time, just for good and extra measure, he gave her a stern and fair warning, and a reminder that these punishments were always only in last-ditch self defense. "What you are about to see pales in comparison to what was done to our kind, yours and mine, throughout history at the hands of these Outlanders; you may have heard, for example, of the Inquisitions, the Holocaust, ...and the biological warfare culminating in the Trail of Tears. What you are about to see will also Certainly Never befall You, for you have goodness in your heart, and do not seek to stir up drama or suffering. These are extremely rare punishments, Sarah; what is about to be carried out upon these criminals. Only the most offensive of intentionally gross and unruly are ever sentenced to these corrective measures. We Never go after them in their own realms, always only responding to them when they harass us on the doorstep of Ours, and even then only responding proportionally. We always give them the chance to choose whether or not they will accept and endure these sentences in order to earn one more chance to enjoy the benefits of our realm, or return to the Outlands where they will be dropped off many thousands of miles away from the only humans we have allowed to survive and start rebuilding out there. Either way, they will go through Hell --because they have put Our people and Others through hell."
"For those who had attempted to pass our kajirae training program, if they choose to stay and complete their sentences, assuming that doesn't include execution by gladiator combat or dragon, they know they will be expected to return to active duty as kajirae immediately upon their release, and return to their sisters in training. Few of them ever talk much about what they go through here, for who would believe them? That is why I brought You here, Sarah; you will be one of the only Outlander girls in all of history to ever witness these punitive measures from an innocent and safe position. You will be able to confirm their stories, if they ever tell them, which will also make them feel much better when they see the awareness and understanding in your eyes. They will turn to you for faith and love, and you will become their natural leader. When you are ready for it, you will become the leader of my slave-girls, though remaining a slave-girl yourself." He didn't ask her what she thought or felt about this, for it didn't matter at this point; she had chosen to be escorted into the heart of the new and manmade Hell, and, of course, even though he loved her dearly, she was a slave. These were her orders now, and she was expected to carry them out immediately and indefinitely --and not only out of obedience, but loyalty; her own desire to do them exactly as she'd been told; her own desire to remain a slave, as that was such an integral part of why her Master loved her.
For a moment, as they followed the cave-like pathway winding down into one of the most secret bowels of the city, he considered changing his mind and sending her back to the rest of her kajira training in the Receiving Facility. She had already seen and overcome so much, he considered; what need was there for her to know anything beyond the fact that there was, somewhere, more? It wasn't her kind's way to be able to stomach such terrible and unfortunate things --it wasn't even the way of his own. He could spare her such horrors and nightmares with but a pointing of his finger in the opposite direction... There was no need at all for her to be conditioned and hardened this much... She had already witnessed and felt and been ingrained with More than enough to properly convey to the other girls, whenever need be, the gravity of their potential situation, that they might all be spared, successfully warded off by the look in her eyes and the changing of her aura when these things were spoken of to them.
"Sarah..." he said, almost not realizing he had said it aloud; his lingering doubt was showing in this moment, his true love for her betrayed by it. He was conflicted inside, deeply and completely. He wanted to shield her from all this. He wished she'd never seen Any of it, and he hated, absolutely hated, his few remaining enemies for having pushed him and his loved ones so goddamned far and hard that they'd had no other choice but, at long last, to start pushing just as ruthlessly back.
The King looked to his top student and his eyes, once sad, now seemed a bit tired, even weary... and afraid. He was worried, rather, but no longer just about their relationship failing; he feared what was around the very next corner would crack and drive her literally insane. It Was Hell, after all, real as ever, specifically and carefully engineered to be as frightening and alien and awful as ever, and right there in her face... in just a few more steps... right around the bend. It was his people's last ditch attempt to convince those who attacked them without any reason at all... to finally give up and stop, that there might, somehow, be a peace between them, if only because the instigators were counter-terrified back to an acceptable distance, ...and it was, as last-ditch efforts go, profound.
"Sarah," he said again, this time more conscious of it. He turned and faced her, taking her hands, palms down, in his own which were palms up. "Sarah, one last time; it is impossible not to freak out when seeing such punishments. Even hearing about them in legends and rumors is bad enough. Even though you have some context; even though you know that the humans being punished down here in our form of Hell have done absolutely unthinkable things to good people, ...that is still usually not enough, especially for a sweet and loving girl like you, to make their happening bearable." He gave her hands a light squeeze; a hug inside his own. "I'm giving you another chance, right here and now, to change your mind and turn back. This is as terrible as it gets, and I don't want you to feel forced or even slightly pressured into dealing with it." He didn't have to say what she could see all over his face and feel in how his hands were holding hers; he loved her deeply, so very, very much, and he Didn't want her to see Any of this (these punishments). He didn't want her to know how dark the wars between different peoples and races could be and often got. It was bad enough that she had probably read little snippets about them in her history classes back in high school. In his heart, he was crying out "I Love you, Sarah! Turn back! Have me bring some Other down here!" ...but he said none of that.
The thick, round slabs of stone door halves parted, grinding slowly apart to reveal the dark, mouthlike entrance that descended as a curving cave tunnel to wherever those remaining criminals had been dragged from their creaky subway car while the King had taken several minutes to speak with and help settle down Sarah. This was it. Neither of them wanted to be here, and neither of them wanted this part of Inisfree to exist, and both of them would be working very doggedly to make sure its time here in this realm came soon to a permanent end, ...but here they were, and if Sarah's conviction from a moment earlier somehow still remained, they were about to walk down and in.
Once more there was a pause. The King brought her to face him and held her shoulders. Her body shuddered bereft of his embrace. Again he issued the warning, a warning she had heard before yet still she had agreed to continue this leg of the journey. Now, however, she was having second thoughts. Even so, after his speech, fear still sharp within her eyes, she once more agreed to move forward.
She knew not what horrors lay before her, but she knew that she could not back down; there were too many people now counting upon her. If she backed out, her sisters would then be faced with having a second-rate pick as their ‘leader’, and despite the King's love and adoration she would not be his First Girl, though she would remain his favored girl. She desperately wanted to be the help the girls were seeking, to understand the man whose collar she was striving to wear, and to do that she knew she had to face this nightmare. “ baptized by fire…” she would murmur, her naked feet whispering across the pathway leading to those stone doors.
Her name spoken upon his lips, brought her gaze toward him, his eyes fierce but it didn’t seem that he was focusing upon her... rather, his thoughts of her. Tension radiated from him, the tick of his muscles suggested a silent battle between going forward and turning back; a battle mirrored in her own slender frame.
Their eyes met, again her name slipped from his lips, once more their progression stalled and it was both agonizing and a relief. The constant dramatic pause was building the panic and terror to threatening heights inside her. Psychologically, she was ramping herself up, stress radiating from her every pore, making her feel brittle and frail. Tears burned in the back of her eyes, her fingers clasping his as hard as she could to keep hers from shaking. “ I can’t turn back now, “ she’d whimper, bowing her head, biting her lower lip. “ If I turned back now, I would forever wonder what was beyond these doors….and that curiosity might bring me to come here without you...and the damage would be irreparable. “
Lifting her eyes to his, the tears spilled free as she brought up his hands to kiss at his fingertips. “ I cant turn back, I would be failing you, myself and my sisters to do so. However, I do beg you the kindness of being permitted to scream, to cry, and otherwise react as a girl's body bids her to.” This was torture on them both; she could see that he didn’t want her here, that he wanted her to admit not wanting to see that which he could choose another for, but she refused to back down.
The stone doors began to open, and Sarah fell back upon old habits as whenever she felt in danger or needed bravery; she had looked to outlander religion. In Inisfree, there was perhaps no need for the old religions, but in times of distress as she was in now...the familiar words were comforting. “ our father..” she began to recite under her breath, hoping he would not chastise her as she recited the old prayers. From 'our Father', to 'hail Mary', and even calling upon Saint Michael, the arch angel, who she had always felt drawn to without understanding why, Sarah recited whatever might be familiar and comforting to her. She needed them all. Into hell they descended... together.
Her thoughts and words were wise; without being with the man she loved and knew she could trust, the punishments of Inisfree would have no context, and there would be no steely, seasoned commando, instructor, and god-king to provide her foundation and steadying touch. Also, a second-rate girl couldn't hope to get the intended and long needed job done as he knew Sarah was innately capable of. It had to be her. Finally snuffing out the battle within him, it was like a lightswitch turned off in all the emotions in his mind. His aura changed in the blink of an eye, almost as if it could go into a stealth mode all its own, and he made sure his favorite girl's grip was snugly within his own, placing his other hand over both of their joined ones, and marched her down into the shadowy tunnel with its echoes of distant groans.
Behind them, still audible, the thick, heavy, slowly moving stone slabs began to grind against the floor and wall again, sliding shut until their coarse faces met with a dull and resounding clack and thud. They seemed sturdy and well placed enough to deflect a nuclear blast. Now there really Was no going back... Not until it was over, at least, and Sarah was ready to lead her Own people; the few surviving Outlanders given a second chance at caring for each other and Mother Earth. The way now firmly and resolutely blocked, both by those great stones and by their own wisdoms and wills, there was only forward.
When Sarah began to quietly recite her prayers, at first there was a dark rumbling throughout the King, his aura almost going a solid black, as if he had become the void of Space incarnate. He didn't like those words at all, but he had grown up with them, and he understood why she was saying them. He knew the power of the spells Outlanders regurgitated. He had said those very same words himself on many an occasion growing up. In a way, they were just innocent poetry, though they did wreak havoc on the confidence and self-reliance potentials of any beings taught to utter them; they brainwashed people to cry out for help, assume they were vulnerable, and stumble in their footing and all other ways beCause of that.
Sarah was knew to the Inisfreean realm, though, and still didn't know about the Dark Arts, the Shadow Arts, and so many other things that would have scared any Outlander stiff, so the King quieted his building volcanic rage, and no lightning or enveloping darknesses were summoned, and he made sure Sarah did not see how menacing and ferocious his eyes had become upon first hearing the spells she called prayers... after so many years of narrowly escaping and dangerously battling all those who had spread such spells, weakening the mental and physical strengths of all peoples who had heard them over the generations. No, Sarah didn't need to know about such things, for she was saying those words innocently enough, so the King remained silent, just holding her hand as reassuringly as he could, and they marched on; down and down... and down farther still.
In his own mind, he was reciting a few of his Own spells; self-empowering ones which reminded him of unflinching purpose, and of true love, and invincibility. The spells that He was reciting were more along the lines of "I can do all things.", "All things are possible to him who believes.", and "All things happen in perfect time." Inisfreeans did not pray to any gods, nor ask for any permission, nor obey any rules but their own. They never assumed they were accidents or weak. They never thought they might need forgiveness. Instead, Inisfreeans were supremely, infinitely confident, proud, stabilizing, helpful, and tenacious like one wouldn't believe. Even if other deities happened to exist and show up, no Inisfreean would ever back down. Hell didn't even scare them, for, after all, one of those spells (a.k.a. prayers or recitations) they instinctively thought of was "Yea, thought I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I'm the baddest motherfucker IN the valley.", not to mention the spells that went: "Even Death may die.", "We never die; we just go to Hell to regroup.", and "Hell is just another playground."
There was even a jogging cadence that elite combatant units enjoyed frequenting, which included the lyrics "Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door. Jump right out and count to four. If my 'chute don't open wide, I got a re-serve by my side. If that one should fail me, too, look out, Satan, 'cause I'm co-min' through." These were the things which the Inisfreeans thought of; they got angry and confident, instead of afraid and pleading, even at the prospect of facing the largest, oldest, smartest, and most powerful demon in all of mythology. Not even the gods could coerce them (those Inisfreeans), and all be damned if any of them ever tried. Inisfreeans were defiant against such things no matter what. Nothing could overwhelm them. Such was part of their unchanging way.
Sarah would, of course, be permitted to have her natural reactions. Her request reminded the King of the first time he rode a frighteningly tall rollercoaster ride which had dropped him straight down several stories before rapidly swooping into a curve and out away from the quickly approaching base and ground. He had wanted to hold a hand or even cry out back then, too. Those things were new and uncertain to him in his earliest years, and now it was his responsibility to guide, uplift, and congratulate Sarah as She had now begun to go through them. He thought, surely, that she, being as smart and gifted as she was, would sense by now, after getting to know the man who loved her so well, that he would Never punish her for her natural ways. Those natural ways of hers were so much of what he had fallen in love with her for. If anything, her screams and tear-soaked cheeks would only make him love her and her gentle nature even more --if that was even possible; he loved her so much already.
Motivated by that gentle, loving side of her; how she had wanted to prove herself useful and desirable, and spare her sisters from both these horrors from the First Girl's perspective, as well as from the perspective of being subjected to them as sentencing, her conviction had remained, and her reasoning behind it was as morally upright and mature as ever. Now past that final, tomb-like doorway, they had descended the rugged cave's tunnel and rounded its final bend, and Sarah would be tackling this incredible task so that none of her sisters in training would ever have to.
As she and the King, hand in hand, holding their tightly interlaced fingers as if they had hitched and welded their grips together to reassure and stabilize one another; her against the punishment cave they were approaching, and him against the disabling thought of traumatizing the girl he was in love with, ...it occurred to him that he was playing the part of Virgil guiding Dante through Hell. Then he wondered if Sarah had ever read 'the Divine Comedy'; 'Dante's Inferno'. It was at the conclusion of that last thought that the two of them rounded the final part of that descending cave tunnel's bend... and their view opened up to a cavern that was blasphemously wide.
The cave chamber they were now standing at the entrance of, right where those unfortunate offenders had been dragged by their ankles, hooded and cuffed, just minutes before them, was a giant ellipsoid; shaped like a football. Through its shadowy haze, and ceiling obscured by a maze of stalactites, it was possible to estimate its dimensions as being a quarter of a mile wide, a quarter of a mile tall, and half a mile deep; half a mile from where Sarah and her King stood... all the way across its ominous, creepy, midnight-colored center... to the other side so very far away, discernible only because of the handful of Master Females standing guard over there; their eyes glowing a deep, almost crimson, blood red.
"This is one of the smallest caves in Inisfree," the King said, quietly rumbling to Sarah who he had standing at his side. "You will see the others later." His voice seemed to echo back to them from the sides, but not from the far end of the half-mile-long cavern; the stalactites and stalagmites were breaking up the sound waves and maintaining an eerie silence the deeper one traveled within.
Looking down dozens of stories below their ledge, past the switchbacks of the serpentining path leading down from where they had all entered, they were then able to spot the procession of Master Female wardens... still dragging those girls by their ankles. They were taking them toward what looked like sleek, black pyramid with grooves and ridges and spouts. It also resembled a dark whale's topside, but with many additional blowholes and growths. Then, after squinting, Sarah would be able to see that it was covered in stealthily crawling bodies... that looked like black ants... the size of grown men. The procession of Inisfreeans dragging their human criminals were striding right for them; right up to the base of that skyscraper-sized, black, monster covered pyramid; they were going to sacrifice them... or so it seemed.
"Watch and take mental note, Sarah," the King, now in robotic, military mode, quietly rumbled to her as the nightmarish scene from a science fiction / horror movie played out before them, as if Sarah had now somehow found herself the demonic princess observing her people from one of the royal window balconies of Hell. She had learned by now that Inisfreeans could not be harmed, so it would make some sense to her as to how they could so calmly and casually approach what had to be the largest and most infested monster hive of all time. Those they dragged in tow behind them, however, were human; they could have just about Anything happen to them.
Though nothing was on fire at the moment, as was thought to be the case with the majority of the Christian concept of Hell, it was clear this punishment cavern was still that legendary underground realm of potentially eternal damnation. Designed to be as disorienting as ever, and to invoke a nonstop sense of hopelessness, abandon, and dread into one's bones, it was a dark, nearly pitch black chamber of eerie echoes, odd sounds, muffled cries and pleas, the creeks and groans of industrial torture devices, muffled footfalls of strange and unseen creatures, and a stench of the dead and dying that was formulated and maintained by a supercomputer to always be at its maximum potential for confirming through the sense of smell alone that anyone down there who was not one of the guards... was in for the worst night of their lives, bar none. It was a consolidation of all the most effective haunted house aspects from around the world, and it was working just as had been intended. A Ghost would be afraid to find itself down here.
What at first seemed in the darkness and deep shadows to be a shapeless mass of vines and amoebic silhouettes wrapping around and clinging to so many of those stalactites hanging like upside-down spires down from the quarter-mile-wide ceiling... turned out, upon straining the eyes again to better focus and adjust, ...to be a multitude of other prisoners being bound, raised up, suspended, and inverted... by a roomful of biomechanical tentacles and creatures which looked identical to the bug-like Xenomorph aliens of H. R. Giger. It was that science fiction and horror artist, in fact, whose work had inspired so much of this Hellish prison cave of theirs.
The King's familiar rumble again served to anchor the heart, soul, body and mind of the girl he loved yet hated to be down here, "We considered forcing these criminals to have done to them exactly what They did to people in the Outlands, such as taking overdoses of side-effects-prone medications, for example; making them human Guinea Pigs until they eventually died from it. We considered altering some of their memories so that they had to experience corrupt law enforcement personnel, corrupt lawyers, and corrupt judges, all providing falsified evidence and false testimonies against them, resulting in having their rights permanently stripped away unjustly in 'kangaroo courts', ...just as untold millions of good people endured from Them." He looked out across the open air and darkness separating their cave balcony from the rest of the punishment cavern, watching in silence for a moment as the last of the prisoners was hoisted up into the final spread-eagle position for the onset of the last round of Hell.
"Sometimes we carried out those karma-based sentences in the Outlands, but it proved too complicated, time consuming, draining, and even pointless at times, ...so we decided to just put them through the scariest and most unsettling, disgusting thing we could think of. ...We had to do something they would actually, no matter what, hate and fear and never forget. Prisons in the Outlands were too corrupted and pampered, and even things like feeding them parts of their own bodies, as in the Hannibal films, weren't considered bad enough --since so many people had already been exposed to that concept. ...We felt these monsters; these Outlanders, who had wronged, tortured, and wrecked the lives of countless people, ...needed something completely new; something that had never happened to anyone in real life, and that was fading from the collective memory of the species. We also wanted to be sure to put unwelcome items inside their bodies, just as They had chosen to put unwelcome objects, such as experimental drugs and gods-know-What-else, into Other people's bodies." The King fell silent, letting Sarah watch for a moment the hoisting of that last prisoner, and the dangling and distant, hushed pleading of them all.
"We considered doing a lot of the things in the Saw horror films to these prisoners, too, but again... though terrible, there wouldn't be as much 'fear of the unknown', as those things had been mass televised; so many had seen and, more or less, already adjusted to them." The Xenomorph Drones; the man-sized, ant-like, black, monstrous, skinny creatures which were scattered about their giant pyramid of a hive, as well walking on the ceiling amidst all the stalactites with fluid, catlike ease and grace, closed in on all of the hanging, still hooded prisoners, gripping their limps and beginning to secrete a dark, gelatinous ooze from their four dorsal spines.
It occurred to him that all of the humans about to be punished here in this particular group-sentencing were females. He took one last moment to explain; "All male offenders were quickly slain in the Outlands, all of them being seen as far too ugly to ever be allowed anywhere near, much less inside, our city here. If they looked like ogres, orcs, and trolls, they were classified and treated that way, and such things are not permissible within our city's walls. Most female offenders were classified just as ugly, and so were Also slain far away from this city, farrr back out in those same Outlands. ...These female offenders you see here before us were outwardly partially attractive, and just barely enough to be considered much worse monsters because that made them much more effective at luring and manipulating their victims, and thereby much worthier of the maximum levels of corrective retaliation. Their beauty backfired against them, for Goreans and Inisfreeans alike only respond to beauty with rhetoric such as "You aren't Only beautiful, Are you??"."
The ooze secreted by the dorsal spines of the ceiling-stalking Xenomorph Drones had congealed around the feet and ankles of the hanging, hooded prisoners, and from their changing dangling motions, it was apparently hardening to lock them even better into place up there. Were they to fall, it wouldn't matter, for they would splatter and explode on the cavern floor a quarter of a mile below; they were just prisoners and the worst kind of offensive and heartless people, so that, in the Inisfreean mind, was 'problem solved'. The reason their feet, ankles, and some other bodyparts had been oozed upon and hardened into place, was because it was gross and uncomfortable to them, and ensured that no matter how much they squirmed, spasmed, and flinched in what was to come, it would be useless to them; it would only intensify their terror and agony. The only things these offenders were allowed to and physically capable of doing in those positions... would add to their already staggering sentences. One should not go out of their way to upset an Inisfreean.
All that being said, it was time for the final round to begin. Sarah had chosen to come down here with him, and so it was that her time to stand and bear witness to punishments far worse than incineration, electrocution, beheading, and lethal injection... had begun. These offenders had dragged out the suffering of their victims for decades a piece, and so it was that none of them would be allowed a quick execution, nor a clean or honorable death. Their punishments were to last a lifetime, as well; at least in their minds' eyes, fresh in their memories, that is. Fair was fair, and karma was a bitch.
Those who earlier had their assholes cauterized... had them then reopened... by the acid spit and motions of those same Xenomorph Drones. As this was done to them, with surgical precision --and no emotion at all from their truly alien, shiny black captors-- the Master Females who had dragged them into place for those biomechanical tentacle-vines and the encroaching Xenomorph Drones... now filed back away and into the shadows, disappearing from sight to busy themselves elsewhere in the realm. Their familiar and arousing, humanoid bodies, smells, and other indicators would not be present to comfort or heal the offenders they had brought down here. Nothing familiar to those humans would remain.
If there was ever a time down here in this appalling pit of machines and odors and beasts... when a girl might be pushed to screaming and dropping to her knees, it was fast approaching. If Sarah had been in training to join Auz's military, and had broken her military bearing so completely as with a scream or collapse, she would have been instantly swarmed by mercilessly yelling Drill Instructors homing in on her weakness and failing like heat-seeking missiles, and she would have been just as quickly yanked out of the training area and sent right back to square one; the first day of a brand new training cycle, as if she was as worthless and 'green' as a fresh recruit right off the bus. That is assuming, of course, that she wasn't killed on the spot for behaving in a way Inisfreeans would, in that instance, consider inexcusable and, generally, uncorrectable. Sarah was in training to be a pleasure slave, though, so when she screamed, and scream she would, it would be amusing and dismissible. Sarah had luck on her side.
Standing there on that cave inlet balcony they had walked out onto from the winding tunnel behind it, the King lets Sarah see the Facehuggers at work first --and the Drones secreting the ooze which binds the helpless convicts in perfect place for them. Then... he let her wonder what was happening to those ooze-trapped convicts while the Facehuggers took hold of them. If Sarah had seen any of the Aliens films during her time growing up in America, she would know, to an extent, what would be happening next. Still holding her hand to steady both her body and spirit, the King spoke in a low tone, almost a whisper, that only she be able to hear, telling her that those ooze-trapped convicts would not be torn apart from the inside out in giving birth to Chestbursters. Instead, they would just be made to feel as though they had the worst indigestion imaginable; what the Facehuggers implanted would crawl out and back into a few of their main holes.
Each morning, the King elaborated, after being exhausted from trying to sleep through this Hell, these convicts are dragged by their hair, handcuffed and ankle-cuffed, back into that restricted-access, G.A.H. subway car, in which they are piled like luggage on top of each other. They are kept in a space that is too small for all of them to stand in, so they must take turns sitting or lying on each other. Though their heads are freed of the half-dung-filled bags, they are now in new bags which prevent them from seeing anything, and which are just as securely tied around their necks. They are allowed to speak to each other in this cramped place, but this does little good, and only serves to let their fellow prisoners know when they are about to lose control of their bowels. They are kept in this special subway car until 100% of them have had at least one bowel movement; until each girl has pissed and shat on at least one other girl there. They are not told that this is the time when they will be released, so they fight against their urges and only prolong their suffering there.
Once this requirement is met, they are dragged back out, again by their hair, still with their heads sealed in breathable bags preventing all sight, and are tossed screaming down into a hole in this special, restricted, cave-like chamber's side, terrifying each of them as they are guaranteed to hear the rapidly lowering, fading screams of their fellows, clearly indicating to them that they might be being pushed into an abyss to their imminent --or eventual (after, perhaps, a minute of freefall)-- smashing deaths. Of course, this is only terrifying for first-timers, but it is still quite unnerving for repeat guests, for never once are they allowed to get their bearings, see anything, or know when it will be their turn to be shoved over the edge to fall down into that deep hole. Every time, no matter how used to it they might somehow get, they will never know if all their fellows survived the fall or not. Knowledge is not permitted to those sentenced to this Hell.
What they find after this terrifying waiting line and even More terrifying free-fall, still blindfolded, handcuffed, and ankle-cuffed, is that they eventually land in a pool of extremely thick fluid which cushions their fall, almost with a splash (though this fluid is too thick to splash). Tentacles then rapidly swirl and tighten around their limbs, yanking them down under the surface of this thick, gel-like fluid. The only thing allowing them to breathe at this point is the burlap-like material of their bags; thick enough to keep the fluid out while keeping their remaining air IN. This only gives them a few breaths, though, and it is still terrifying to feel the fluid pressing in on their faces from all sides while they are dragged, half floating, half sliding through the thick fluid, underwater (under the surface of the gel-like fluid, that is). This rapid, tentacle-based dragging is what keeps them from landing on each other as their entire group falls down from the above opening to this Lower chamber and pool-like bowl of a fluid-filled pit; the tentacles pull them out of the way of the girls falling down After them. In a way, they eventually become grateful for this.
Having been dragged out of the way, they are position by many more tentacles in uncomfortable positions and postures at odd angles, often hanging upside down, while still more tentacles begin to fuck their pussies and assholes, cumming the whole time. Something tears open a hole on the front of the bag over their heads, too; just big enough for another of these raping tentacles to fit through, and another one slides in through the hole, stuffing their mouth, and sliding all the way down their throat to constantly cum in their stomachs until they are completely full. When they begin to suffocate, these throat-raping tentacles slide back out, letting them catch their breath. If they puke up some of the tentacle-cum, they are completely refilled until they Stop puking, learning to fight their own gag reflexes in the slim hope of preventing more rape. Once their stomachs, intestines, and pussies are all comPletely filled with cum, and it is imPossible for them to hold any More inside them, three Inisfreean-modified Xenomorph Facehuggers are unleashed on them; three of these Facehuggers leap toward and firmly attach to each of these imprisoned girls. One Facehugger goes for the mouth, ramming its ovapositor down the girl's throat and pumping a special egg into her stomach. One Facehugger goes for her pussy, ramming its ovapositor in there and pumping another of these eggs into her depths. The final of each group of three Facehuggers goes for her asshole, ramming its ovapositor into There, and planting Its egg deep up into her lower intestine.
It takes nine hours for these eggs to hatch, and the girls are kept hanging this entire time, upside-down in mid-air by the dozens of tentacles tightly coiled around their limbs, blindfolded by the burlap bags tied over their heads and around their necks, nude, completely coated in the thick fluid from the pit they fell into, waiting for the inevitable. First timers sometimes don't realize what they were filled with, so this is especially horrifying to Them, but it is Equally disturbing in concept and sensations every single time, no matter how many years are spent enduring this punishment and corrective, disciplinary measure (which Inisfreean citizens often enjoy observing --and masturbating and orgying to-- from their computer screens, in their mind's-eyes, or in person, as Inisfreeans are aroused by harsh justice after long periods of frustration).
At the close of the ninth hour, these eggs, usually within several seconds of one another, release a specially engineered creature which begins to squirm within the cavity it was implanted inside. This is an Inisfreean version of the Xenomorph Chestburster, though none of these will ever cause any physical harm to the girls that are impregnated with them (only emotional trauma and fatigue). Each of these modified Chestbursters is the size of a small snake or large slug. The one in each girl's stomach wriggles its way up her throat, too strong to be hurt by her teeth, and forces her mouth open to crawl out of it and then out of the hole made in her burlap head-bag by the mouth-raping tentacle from earlier. It then crawls all over her upper body while waiting to sense the escape of its two fellows.
The modified Chestburster in each of these girls' pussies then crawl around inside them, instinctively targeting these girls' G-spots to make them shiver in multiple orgasms all the while they are cringing. Imagine a spider-snake fusion milking your most intimate and sensitive erogenous zones from the inside out. After a few minutes of this truly confusing and mind-altering stimulation, it is only Then that they crawl their way out of these girls' pussies, at which point they start crawling around, spiraling all the way down and back up again, repeatedly, around these girls' right legs.
The final of these three modified Chestbursters, and by far the most sensationally offensive (offensive to these girls' senses), is the one in their assholes. It is This modified Chestburster which first crawls all the way up their large intestines, not Out of them, until it nears the sphincter for their stomach, ensuring they feel the thing, like a living, mobile turd, moving every which way inside their gut, terrifying them perhaps more than all the rest. After it reaches the Top of their lower intestine, it then crawls allllll the way back out, until it forces its way out of their asshole, often covered in their shit, at which point it crawls all the way down around and back up again, many times, their Left leg, smearing their shit all around it the whole time.
When these modified Chestbursters, three per girl, complete their slimy, crawling circuits around the girls' upper body, left leg, and right leg, respectively, they then meet up and crawl into her pussy toGether, work together to stimulate her G-spot until she orgasms again, crawl Out of her pussy together, crawl into her Asshole together, crawl up her lower intestine, crawl back Down and Out of her lower intestine, crawl back out of her asshole, crawl up her spine, crawl around her neck (under where the burlap bag is tied), crawl around her tits, then crawl up into the hole in her burlap head-bag, ALL of them now covered in her shit, force their way into her mouth, crawl all the way down her throat, aided by her reflexive swallowing, secreting a chemical which prevents her from vomiting, and then float together in her stomach, unaffected by its acid (and submerged in all the tentacle-cum still filling it), for another hour until they crawl back up her throat and back out of her mouth again, this time crawling around her neck inside the head-bag, and sliming their way around her ears, poking their slimy tips into her earholes several times.
It is uncertain which is more horrifying; to be, by chance, alone in this level of punishment, or to be in the company of fellow girls, all of whom are screaming, choking, gagging, vomiting, and noisily yet futily fighting desperately to free themselves. Both the silence and the cacophony of these alternate situations is quite maddening -and designed to be so.
As these girls enter the 10th hour in which they have been subjected to this special chamber in the Underway, with their nights up on the Rape Fields high above and far away... being eight hours long, ...and with their time in that special subway car being about Three hours long, that leaves three hours for the remainder of their daily sentencing down in this special chamber of the Underway.
The remaining three hours are spent thusly: The tentacles keeping these girls hanging upside down over the fluid-filled pit of this lower chamber in the special annex of the Underway... now move these girls down into the fluid again (with only their heads left above its surface), which feels much like being dipped down into thick honey or even molasses. More tentacles triple-penetrate them, as before, but suck Out all the cum in their three holes this time... then reFill them all... and then another three Facehuggers rapidly tighten their tough, hand-like, spidery appendages around these girls' pelvises, legs, and heads, plugging and impregnating them with their ovapositors again, and then pull out their ovapositors and swim back away, leaving them to feel the much more rapid gestation of these New, Inisfreean-modified Chestbursters.
Because this cavern beneath Inisfree is a quarter of a mile in diameter about its short axis, that means that these girls were glued to a ceiling more than 130 stories up; more than 1,300 feet above the surface of its floor and the fluid pool. This gives them the purest sensation of dangling in mid air, surrounded by hopeless, endless nothingness while the tentacles ensnare them while they wait on the ceiling-crawling Xenomorph Drones to close in and secrete the ooze that will harden to lock their feet to the ceiling until it is time for them to be passed, from one tentacle set to the other, back down the curving cavern walls to where they are then tugged down and held in place with most of their still nude bodies beneath the surface of that same fluid-pool.
Again, as before, no physical harm of any kind happens to these girls; they are merely left extremely disgusted and feeling dirtier and more soiled and degraded than ever before; a fitting punishment for the beings who felt it in their black hearts to attempt to use their Words (annoying spells, as Inisfreeans call them) to degrade and harm the irreproachable Inisfreeans, as well as so many other innocent and hapless beings who find themselves in the wakes of such reckless, 'trash-talking' creatures. Inisfreeans karmically reflect their misdeed back onto them tenfold to drive the point home. Of course, ...when Outlanders actually go around hunting down others to Physically harm them, they end up like those three girls who got crucified and consumed by Inisfree's ever-interested dragons.
So those new Chestbursters, again three per girl, take far less time to grow, hatch, and begin their disgusting work. The one in each girl's stomach drinks up large portions of the new load of cum filling her stomach, then presses its head up into the pipe connecting her stomach to her throat, and blows it all back out of its Own stomach so as to force her to throw it all Up. It takes half a dozen repetitions of this for her stomach to be emptied, and only Then does this Chestburster (also like a large slug) crawl its way up and out. The Chestburster in each of these girl's pussies does the same with the cum filling their Pussies, and the Chestburster in each of these girl's Assholes does the same with all of the cum filling their Assholes.
Since they have alReady experienced these groups of Chestbursters crawling together back into Each of their main holes, it wouldn't be as horrifyingly disgusting to them, and so these Chestbursters are not engineered (genetically programmed and technopathically mind-control guided) to do that again. Instead... they all crawl into the now-emptied Pussies of these girls, rapidly gestate even More --and in these girls' Wombs this time-- causing their bellies to swell as if they were pregnant with natural Human babies. Once they appear 8-months pregnant (unharmed due to special classified techniques keeping their bodies from rupturing or failing during this process which takes an hour or two to fully 'bloat' them), one by one, these three self-implanting, fetus-like creatures, now in the form of full-sized Facehuggers, crawl down out of these girls' birthing canals, moving into position for the final round of punishment.
The final round of punishment here in the Underway for the most intentionally offensive Outlander girls to ever cross the Inisfreeans... is that the Facehuggers they just gave Birth to as Triplets... are now ramming their ovapositors into these girls' three main holes for the third round (per day) of Facehugger-based, triple-penetration, impregnation. A final three, Inisfreean-modified, Xenomorph Chestbursters rapidly gestate and crawl up out of these girls' throats, pussies, and assholes, and then each of these girls is pulled all the way down to the bottom of this chamber's fluid pit by the dozens of tentacle groups, some of which have been tightly coiled around their limbs these whole 13 hours, leaving plenty of bruises. The girls are held down there until they run out of air and start squirming frantically, and only Then are they brought back up to the surface to catch their breaths through the holes in their head-bags --all of which had by then begun to let in the thick, molasses-like fluid this time, for they were no longer fluid-tight due to the rape holes torn into them.
The tentacles invert each girl again, then dunk only their Heads under the surface of this thick fluid, and aGain leave them suspended there, limbs pulled tight and wide open, spread-eagle, until aGain these girls begin to frantically squirm and fight to free themselves for air. Again, it is only Then that they are brought back up so that their heads are no longer completely submerged under the surface of this fluid, and, still blindfolded by these burlap head-bags, they are put in the arms of the Inisfreean-modified Xenomorph Drones, who carry these girls up through winding, confusing, hive-like tunnels, sometimes crawling inverted on their ceilings, to deposit all of these girls back in that special, restricted-access, G.A.H. subway car they had been brought here in.
The subway car takes them back to its pick-up and drop-off point; that subway station beneath the Rape Fields they had been brought from that fateful morning before, and their Inisfreean-born, female wardens and inspectors drag them back out by their hair, back up the A.I.O.W. to the surface hatch, and out across the Rape Fields to be returned to their bondage racks for another night of having their heads taken out of these tiny burlap bags... and tied right back down into the larger ones half-filled with dung.
Eventually, these girls stop resisting this mindbogglingly unheard-of Hell, and go numb and limp, and they are Let to, for that is part of what the Inisfreean-borne people want to See from them; that wholly defeated, soul-crushing (and soul-Crushed) reaction on their faces and in the depths of their eyes --and in the shrinking of their auras and life-forces-- which lets the Inisfreeans know their punishments were severe enough.
These girls are occasionally asked if they want to plead for these nightly and daily punishments to end; asked if they want to attempt to be pleasing in their pleading enough to earn the privilege of being upgraded to the boxes (a whole other form of punishment, though much, much less severe; more like solitary confinement) that their slightly Less offensive fellow Outlander girls are punished in, and on and on like this, practicing their pleading more and more until they make it to the volcano slope (where offensive girls are bolted onto its rocky slope to swelter until they pass out), and then the cold floor of that otherwise-unused Pearly Gate chamber (the one where offensive girls are bolted down to the vast expanse of its floor until they start to pass out from the cold), and then back into the gladiator games held within the arena of the Subterranean Vatican. When they fail to respond in a manner deemed timely and polite enough to their Inisfreean-born wardens, they are left for another 24-hour period in the rotation between dung-bags and 'Xenomorph Hive pregnancy toleration and acclimation practice'.
Near the end of these punishments, as they are hung from the cave's ceiling, overflowing from their three main holes with the cum from the tentacles, the Xenomorph Drones unlock and yank off the bags from around their heads, allowing them to see, to their increased horror and helplessness, that they cannot see the floor or walls in any direction of the chamber they are trapped within. They realize, then, that they actually Might have fallen into an abyss, and were somehow taken by those tentacles from the fluid pool... across the ceiling to these points form which they now hang. Then, shortly after their screaming at this revelation; that they cannot see anything but endless darkness in all directions, the Xenomorph Drones begin to play tricks on their minds, moving for just a second or two on the stalactites they are hugging nearest these girls, catching their attention only long enough to make these girls frantically squint out toward the stalactites, wondering what it was that caught their eyes. ...Then the Xenomorph Drones move enough for them to see, readjusting their positions around the stalactites before settling back into hugging them motionlessly, showing off their human-sized ant-like bodies, gleaming black and roach-like in the dim, indirect lighting of this part of the cave's ceiling, ...and finally they begin to crawl along the ceiling toward these girls, stopping to open their outer and inner jaws, dripping with acid, right in front of the girls' fear-whitened faces. For those who are not yet scared enough, which these Xenomorph Drones can sense as easily as bees and wolves smell fear, those second jaws of theirs extend on rigged, peg-like, black tongues, pressing their little fangs, dripping with irritating ooze, all the way into the girls' mouths, remaining in them until the girls shriek and violently try to yank back and, ultimately, pass out.
Few girls ever make it through more than one 24-period here without pleading VERY well and earning their way up into the higher and less disgusting levels of the Inisfreean correctional system. The idea is that it be kept so horrifically disgusting that the very mention or mere thought of its existence will stop would-be offenders from even daring to be offensive in the first place, let alone in the presence of an Inisfreean. By that method, it will eventually never again be needed, and will be kept dormant all thereafter; on the off chance that it might someday, in the distant future, prove useful again. In other words, the Inisfreeans only created this Hell cavern for the purpose of guaranteeing itself eventually and indefinitely shut down.
The King had explained all these things to Sarah while she was watching them start to happen right in front of her. It was clear that some of the convicts had been tentacle-bound and ooze-glued to the cavern's ceiling for the nine hour gestation period, for they began to cough, scream, beg, shake, and heave as the eggs hatched in their various cavities, the modified Chestbursters starting their snake-like movements outward. Those suspended on the ceiling all around them, all of them blindfolded by the bags locked around their heads, could only guess as to the cause of those primally troubling noises. It was a cacophonous symphony of psychological and digestive tract torture.
It was time, the King thought, in his usual Marine fashion, for some rather dark and twisted humor. Sarah might be too horrified and disgusted with the whole spectacle of this Hell cavern to ever remember her feelings for him, but in order to be First Girl in Inisfree, one had to be able to steel herself against anything they might be presented with, and be able to joke and laugh even in the toughest of times. "Would you like to walk down this path here at your side and take a stroll up into that Xenomorph hive?" he pointed in the direction of that gigantic black pyramid covered in smoothly creeping, human-sized, ant-like drones; the ones with the second, inner jaws on the end of their punching-tongues, and the four dorsal spines that secreted the ooze used to harden into miniature stalactites around the feet and ankles of their victims (also useful, it turned out, for construction purposes; it was used to form and build upon the structures which eventually became their giant hive mounds). "Its full of Facehugger eggs the size of beach balls," he said in a tone that someone might use to entice a child to eat their vegetables in order to receive a tastier dessert; another standard form of his front-lines combatant humor. If Sarah now hated him for his treatment of the most evil humans to ever walk the Earth, he wouldn't be surprised, but he'd still be cracking his intentionally crass jokes from time to time.
Out in front of them, in that quarter-mile-across, half-mile from front to back, cavern, the muffled cacophony of tortured convicts hanging from its ceiling --and being dunked down into its fluid pool-- continued, and the group of convicts which had been there for the full duration of all of those described punishments were beginning to be eased back down by the alien process which would soon have them riding back toward the surface access point in that rickety trap of a subway car again. Inside their head-bags, they were staring blankly off into space, their bodies now numbed and barely thinking to move or even twitch.
Returning to Her Sisters:
The groans of the damned first touched upon her ears, sending shivers skittering down her spine and making her insides feel like they had just been ice bathed in acid. The darkness swallowed them, the stone doors closing with a finality that spelled doom for those who had traversed ahead. It was hard to remind herself that she was not being brought here for the same reason as those before her. She pressed onward, silencing her outward mantra, for she had felt the words she uttered to be a disturbance to her King. She bowed her head in apology…. It seemed she still had a long way to go to be his utter perfection.
Into the abyss it seemed they entered, for the cave itself was monstrously gigantic to the point she could hardly fathom its true dimensions or compare its breadth and height with anything she had thus far encountered in her short life. The first stirrings of terror visibly wracked through her slender frame as her eyes found the red glowing oculars of the Master Females on the far side. How many nights had she lain awake, terrified in the darkness, her mind's eye conjuring floating ruby eyes in the deepest of shadows….staring..only blinking once to let her know that something indeed was operating them...like a face she couldn’t see. Her airways constricted, her stomach tensed, and everything inside her was screaming to turn and run now, but she stayed as she was.
The voice of her Master speaking, though it was quiet and hushed, was like a thunder clap making her almost leap out of her flesh. Hazel eyes tore away from the visions of her self-created nightmares and landed upon the face of the man who had brought her here to witness the only festering wound of his great city. All she could manage was a nod, and while she’d rather keep her eyes upon the face of her King, she knew she had to bare witness to the rest of this hell.
The girls were dragged farther; towards a place that Sarah recalled as familiar; from the black pyramid... to the creeping shadows of bodies clearly not human. “ aliens..” she whispered, as her mind registered this odd notion of déjà vu.
The creatures themselves did not horrify Sarah, though she could well understand the fear and plight of her outlander sisters. From a very young age, Sarah had been able to transport herself emotionally into the shoes of others; their pain became her pain, their fears became hers, etc. She watched while their tortures began, her stomach turning with the need to vomit as girls were repeatedly raped, forced to bare insidious creatures that crawled in and out of them, exchanging holes and crawling across their bodies like hell's spiders.
The small kajira standing beside her King did not move, save for the shivering trembles that wracked her muscles. Tears fell for the girls being put through such torture, and at one point she did lose her composure, needing to turn and empty her stomach contents as the pressure of emotional stress finally popped and demanded some form of release.
The hopelessness of the cave continued to press against her like a living entity; the living night seeming to curl around her in a bid to suffocate her. Yet even as these horrors were revealed, she noted that these prisoners were allowed to live…. No blood was spilled, no form of twisted mutilation given, and that was the only thing that allowed Sarah to remain at her King's side; in her mind, the Rape Fields were more aligned with her vision of hell, but having things done to you by creatures you didn't understand or know about... That was perhaps a worse kind of hell, indeed.
Their noises made her heart race. Such sounds she would never be able to purge from her mind…. She didn’t doubt that any time she heard an offending sound she would be transported back here. Now she understood, perhaps partially, why the Master Females reacted so hostile towards imperfection.
“ well, I wasn’t sure I’d want to," the young girl somehow, amidst it all, dutifully answered her King; "but that last bit about eggs being the size of beach balls just sealed the deal for me. I’m totally in.” Her lips grimaced, the words feeling foul in her mouth as they joked while others suffered. Instantly she put her head down, a violent shudder racing over her body as her soul ached, chilled by everything she had seen.
The girl could not hate the man beside her, for this was all done as a last resort, but even so... she wished he would destroy this place and vowed to help him achieve that goal. There was no room in Inisfree for such a place. Of that much, she was certain.
When finally she was allowed to return to her sisters, Sarah would silently walk into the middle of the slave quarters and stand within its centermost point. She said not a word, her eyes not truly seeing the present, but replaying the horrors of what she had seen, and she tried to come to terms with what she knew was happening. Every soul was precious. Every soul needed to be saved. That was what her heart was telling her.
She didn’t move, nor speak a word, but flooded the space with energies and began to pull the girls within towards her as if she had become a magnet for them. Those that picked up on this silent wave of emotional distress began to move towards her, caressing her body in soothing patterns in anxious bid to relieve their sister of the pains radiating from the depths of her heart. Sarah was aware of fingers fanning through her hair, of kisses upon her skin, of limbs enfolding her into their embrace. As the tears welled over, Sarah would look to the heavens as the bodies of her sisters cocooned her within their safety net via a giant cuddle puddle; their web of interlocking bodies, all the girls feeling her need to be covered and hidden within a living shield while she patched the hurt that was swirling inside her heart and soul.
It was hours she would stay this way, drifting upon a sea of soft breaths, loving words, stroking hands, and whispering bodies as they pressed against and around her. Eventually she would find rest amongst the living shield, still uncertain of what her future was or if she had passed all of her Lord's tests.
Rest and Recuperation:
It was over. Sarah had seen what she needed to see, and now understood the Inisfreean reasoning and how far they were willing to go to drive the point home that they and those who loved them were never to be fucked with. The King took Sarah by her hand and walked her back up and out of that deep punishment cavern.
Sarah seemed in a daze, almost a trance, as they rode back along a much nicer, smoother route from that hidden cave mouth to the soothing silo she and her sisters now called home. It occurred to the King that she might have a visceral reaction upon the first step of their walk back down into her training quarters; that she might involuntarily panic because they were walking into the depths of another subterranean chamber, but she returned to her living space without incident, and he left her there to heal how he could sense she needed to, for he was an empath much like her.
There was no training that next morning. No Master Females were anywhere to be found. Being extensions of their King's mind, they knew full and well what had happened that previous evening; how Sarah had reacted to it all, and that she needed time and space. She and her sisters were left to further bond and stabilize her; they would wake up whenever their bodies felt it was time, and not a moment sooner. They would be free to get ready for the day, or not, and to eat, or not, as they saw fit. More than anything, they would be free to eventually find the right time and way to ask Sarah what on Earth had made her send out those vibes of emotional trauma and immediate need. There would be no distractions in their luxurious kajirae training house of a silo until that had come to pass.
Meanwhile, the King busied himself with a thousand other things which his city, growing stronger and more seamless than ever before, now needed. He only tuned in, through the eyes of his Inisfreean daughters, for a few minutes on his way back up the AIOW from her training silo to the next bullet-train; he needed to see how the girl he loved was reacting to being back among her classmates and creature comforts. When he saw how she emotionally called out like a beacon to all of them, and how they all lovingly swarmed in to help her, and how they had all just lied down together like that, he closed his eyes and hung his head, his subway car banking 90 degrees into its first high-speed turn. He, too, was now worn out, but he was relieved like never before... to see that Sarah sought out her comfort and recharges... the very same way he did with his Inisfreean girls.
It would be about a week before he'd return to her; to check on her in person; to let her know, like that, that he cared about her in particular. That would be just a day or two before her next training evolution and the final prerequisite for graduation, and how fitting and perfect that her own equivalent of the Hell Week and Reaper hike He had had to go through to graduate... came at the same time in Her training program; at this '11th hour', so to speak, making it as stressful and emotional as His had been. That was the way that great healers and leaders and teams --nay; families-- were made, forged like diamonds under the pressure usually only reserved for the gods, and Sarah, though she didn't yet know it, would soon be able to count herself amongst them.
Restoring the Empath:
The day was spent in a continuous cuddle puddle, with Sarah within the center of the hive of feminine bodies intricately laced to be a living shield against all things physical and unseen that would seek to disturb their already, momentarily, weakened sister. The girls seamlessly shuffled themselves as needed to allow for one girl to rise for whatever need, be it eating, washing, or whatever, and allowing for them to return to the ball of bodies so that another could leave, etc.
As the girls rotated themselves, Sarah would reach out to those who had faced what she had seen; those girls she would cuddle, lick, kiss and touch with heartbreaking tenderness. When this was done, and Sarah’s stress began to ease, the quiet whispers began. The girls began to unfurl from the bodily hive that had collected around their sister, each girl moving to kneel in a circle around the sister, as if each was a living petal unfurling to reveal the precious center of a flower.
Sarah was the last to unfurl, rising as elegantly as any geisha, to stand among her sisters and deliver the message she had been chosen to give. She would explain the horrors awaiting them if any of them continued down the untrue path, thinking themselves clever enough to deceive their Inisfreean Master and Master Females. She’d speak of the horror of the train, the underground city of darkness, a hell of endless tortures. She conveyed with earnest that if any of them felt in their heart, even the smallest bit that Inisfree was not for them, it was wiser to leave than to stay and be found a pretender.
For days she would answer the girls on their endless questions, and all could see that she was clearly a changed girl, a bridge between an Inisfreean and their outlander selves. While she remained as loving and caring as always, she was quick to correct those who touched her without that perfect caress... because anything less brought back those horrifying nightmares of the dark beneath the city. Any girl who burnt anything, to the smallest degree, was also pounced upon and corrected. Despite these instances being few and far between, it always took Sarah time to recover after these incidents, though the recovery times were becoming shorter.
When the King came to check on his prized girl, she would be awaiting him upon entry, as if she had known he would be coming without being told. She was not yet linked as Inisfreeans were but she was picking up on the subtle vibrations and gaining an understanding of her own intuition.
Her dark hair was perfectly combed into a silky veil down her back, the ends of which tickled the pads of her toes. Pale thighs were spread widely and lavishly, exposing the sweet pink, glistening center from between the pout of her nether lips. Her breasts were arched towards him, inviting him to mouth and teeth the beaded raspberry tips of her nipples, each breast a hefty weight for his palm to massage and manipulate to his lingering pleasure or gaze upon their high pendant drape upon her chest. Hazel nebula’s were kept submissively low, as a visible wave of energy passed over her in reaction to his aura. Palms, a sign of her softness and vulnerabilities, were openly displayed to invite him to her… though he really needed no invitation. Her body she had perfumed in a way to make him think of winter nights, campfires and naked bodies cuddled beneath luxurious love furs for endless hours of pleasure. “ Master..” she would greet him, the word escaping from her lips like an adoring prayer and a sexual tease all rolled into one. In this way, she offered herself to him as a gift, and hoped this pleased him.
Bending on the Ban:
After Sarah had prayed, the atmosphere in Inisfree changed. The king, though he was Auz, the man who fell in love with her, now had the occasional, instinctive fantasies about killing her. The only thing stopping those fantasies from becoming reality... was the fact that he had once been afraid and desperate to the point of reciting many of those same chants to the latest of the thousands of gods the humans had believed in over the millennia. More than 2,700 gods had been invented by the humans, and every group of people throughout history thought that all 2,700, except for the god They first heard about, were ridiculous. Such was just one of the quirks of this world; everyone doubted all gods but the one they were accustomed to hearing stories about.
It had also occurred to him that Sarah could easily -effortlessly- be cloned, those clones modified however he pleased, and the original; her, slaughtered --or casually tossed into the city's recycling facility. All Inisfreeans knew this, and all Inisfreeans shared their king's fantasies and feelings. When he wanted someone dead, they did, too. When he barely held back, they did, too. They had the strength and surgical precision of vampires and Kryptonians. Sarah stood no chance. They would blink her out in an instant if for just one brief moment, should their king slip, he willed it. They had swept aside her entire species and everything it had ever built, including all of the ancient ruins that no one else had ever been able to even figure out, much less move. Few things were beyond the Inisfreeans, and the termination of one more member of such a weak, mortal race would be like breathing to them.
She, being an empath like all of them, and like him, would feel these changes in the air, and it wouldn't help her to relax and heal here in their main city... now that many of them, her kajirae training instructors, cast her stern looks with turned up noses and curt tosses of their hair as they walked away from her. It seemed all the goddesses of Inisfree now hated her, almost recoiling from her very presence. They knew she had seen a terrible sight; that of their capital offenders punishment areas, and that she needed to be comforted and encouraged to grow in their community, that her survival and success there prove once and for all that at least a few humans were worth saving. They wanted Sarah to somehow help get them to the point where the remaining outlanders would back off so the Inisfreeans could close down those punishment devices. Yet they were conflicted, for she had prayed. Sometimes, that was all it took, innocent though her intentions behind such utterances had been.
And the king of them all, deep down, wanted to know love was possible between his kind and hers; that something more than just a standoff distance and a shaky peace could exist between them. He had a void that needed filling, just like All beings destined to interact with the Universe, and Sarah filled it so well. For all his strengths, she was becoming one of his favorite ones, and hate the sound and sight of prayers, though he did, his heart now beat, very much so, for her.
But now he, like his children, was conflicted. He knew he had gotten over his praying after many years, and that she probably would, too, but he couldn't stand hearing such things now, not after all the religious people had subjected him and so many others to... Plus, religion was illegal in his realm, and no exceptions were ever made. Inisfree was a place where only love and science existed; where people were taught critical thinking and inventing, that they be able to solve all their own problems, not even Thinking about praying. Sarah's prayer hadn't really hurt anything; only caused semi-painful, upsetting flashbacks and momentary worries, but it remained a thorn in the king's side, and, thereby, in every one of the billions upon untold billions of Inisfreeans. Would he make an exception for his best kajira, temporarily violating sacrosanct Inisfreean law? Would he risk tainting their otherwise perfected kingdom?
The girl at the absolute top of her class, out of all the millions of surviving (spared; chosen) outlanders, was the bridge between their two races, and had become the postergirl for their whole program. More than all the rest of those rare girls in her class, she could not be known to pray, especially not in the one city on earth which had forbidden it. Humanity couldn't be allowed to start down that self-righteous, self-justifying, genocidal path again. The bridge between the humans and the Inisfreeans, Sarah, couldn't inadvertently reassure people that such things were still permissible.
'You were once a pray-er like her,' he thought to himself, trying to calm down... once he was far away from her, she having returned to her sisters in training in their silo. 'Give her time.' The king, a gifted killer, and an instructor of other instructors of elite, world-class killers and infiltrators, friend to the vampires, and a social blood drinker himSelf, gritted his teeth... and passed the time. He wondered if Sarah, the outlander girl he had fallen in love with, would fall to the religious horde which had nearly rendered her entire planet forever lifeless with their condescension and shameless pollution. Would Sarah turn to such oppressive, omni-damning systems for additional structure, dominance, and the spice of the tension of degradation? Would her new slavery in Inisfree, and out amongst the stars, when he took her there, ...be enough to sate, not just whet, her submissive's bondage appetite?
He loved her. He was IN love with her, but every time she showed her religious side, he hated her, at least in part, and was reminded through many flashbacks of the endless crimes religious people had committed throughout history, and against him personally, even when he was just a boy trying to make it through school and spend time with his first love. Beyond the fact that such creatures had nearly ended the whole world, after trying to demonize every single peaceful, loving, intelligent person, scientist, and alien species, they had been just as devoted to traumatizing him and everyone he loved most... as they were devoted to their bizarre belief system. But it wasn't so bizarre that he didn't see the alarming potential for it to be found appealing to those who lusted to serve; it had proven a fanTastic control mechanism... for many billions of her kind. They had flocked to it like moths to the flame. JUST like that.
Sarah had improved and advanced by leaps and bounds, transcending even the Inisfreeans' kajirae training program masterminded by the world's finest supercomputer. The king could tell her heart was all in this new realm and home of theirs, and nearly 100% of everything she did made his mouth fall open, his soul given pause by her calming, soothing, tender, heartfelt genius. Would he remember his love for the star-crossed outlander girl and pardon her use of the banned form of religion? Would the Inisfreeans' eyes once again be as bright as Sarah's had become after their king had told Sarah he loved her, too?
She had been waiting for him. She had learned the ways of his people, and all his preferences in how girls were desired and expected to behave, and had not only learned, but mastered them, and gone even beyond that to display them for him with unbelievable precision... even perfection. She had doubted herself at first, but, as she had once put it, she was now 'his utter perfection'. She was what he thought he'd always have to create Inisfreeans to enjoy. He had never been so happy to be proven slightly wrong.
Auz looked down on his little teenage slave girl kneeling so submissively, beautifully, and quietly before him. Her posture was astounding, her physique and manners divine. She, though an empath, had healed from what had troubled him, too; exposure to the lingering punishment areas which he had hoped his kind could avoid. Sights and sounds, smells and feelings so profoundly disturbing, they belonged in a horror film, were now amongst both his and her experiences, yet, as graceful as she was in all other things, she had managed to absorb, process, translate, and put them behind her.
He regally leaned down over her and put his middle finger back in her pussy, indicating with the slightest of pressure as he gently hooked her that way and returned to his upright stance, that it was time for her to heel him again. He marched her back up and out from her luxurious kajirae training silo, through its equally luxurious AIOW, and this time up past its adjoining mag-lev subway station... all the way to the tan and ocher surface hiding it all.
Auz had been wondering how Sarah would take using one of the same flying, fire-breathing serpents, which had just roasted and eaten a few of the members of her species, as a sight-seeing ride. She was straddling the neck which had swallowed, among other things, one of those girls' heads. Some of the energy being used to make that dragon fly was generated in the digestion of those convicts...
Right on queue, one of the towering dragons he'd shown her nights before swooped down and dipped its head in what looked like another royalty-acknowledging bow to the king, but before she could return the respectful body language, the king swept Sarah off her feet and sat her down straddling the base of the dragon's neck, himself throwing a leg over and settling down straddling it right behind her, all while that massive, lengthy, scaly beast kept its head low in that half-menacing, half-crouching, signature bow variant.
Taking the thick, leathery reins with his muscular forearms at the sides of Sarah's bare waist, and keeping his legs, outside her own, pressing them tight against the sides of the dragon's neck, he gave the signal for the great beast to take flight again, and with a furious beating of its long, membranous wings, they were rising high up into the air over the barren, sand-blasted plateau which hid deep within it her and her sisters' training facility. Over the ridge line called Dragon's Back, they flew on their legendary serpent, and out past the start of Inisfree's steep canyon. Their dragon mount found and eased into the local wind current, and the steady, patient beat of its vast wings stopped, leaving them in breezy, relative silence.
Without turning its head around in flight to look at its two riders, the dragon revealed that its kind can speak in the ways familiar to Sarah's people, and told her how Inisfree had become the home of its people, too, sheltering them; the dragonkind, taking them in when they were demonized by the Christian religion, and when China became too polluted --yes, even for dragons. Like the Native Americans and so many other peoples, dragons had once roamed freely, unmolested, unhated, sometimes, as had been the case with China, even loved. It had surprised and saddened them deeply... when so many billions of people started, just because they'd been told, regarding them as monsters... and evil, something to be hunted... and mass-murdered, then, almost, destroyed.
So they, the dragons, now defend Inisfree as fiercely as their own lives, and any insult to Inisfree they counted as an attempted assassination of the last endangered survivors of their nearly extinct race. When Inisfreeans point out their enemies, the dragons take flight with laser-like focus of their burning rage and sense of self preservation. As the great, winged serpent spoke to Sarah about these things, she felt its rumbling words, so much like their king's, resonating out from its flesh and into her own, their king, all the while, sitting close and warmly right behind her, his hands now resting on her thighs to show her his confidence and trust that this dragon friend of theirs would never let them slip or fall off.
When the dragon had quieted, finishing its introductory monologue, the king added "And women and girls the world over tend almost invariably to betray their men because we Inisfreeans give them better freedom And better bondage, Both of which they have been starving and secretly Begging for for Dozens of generations, ...and as you know... Earth men are slaves and fools to even the most pathetic of females. And so it is that we here in Inisfree... harbor and provide sanctuary and political asylum for the dragons, and the compatible human females, and a great many other races. We are as much a nexus and haven as the resort we originally intended to be. We are even the main base of the latest era's Underground Railroad for these peoples." Yes, in Inisfree, dragons, vampires, elves, mermaids, aliens; all of them... were referred to as people.
Over the crest of the mountains' spine they flew, the fresh Inisfreean breeze of ocean mist and wildflower aromas filling their nostrils as their thick heads of hair billowed and whipped in the cool atmosphere behind their heads. The three miles wide, main lake of Inisfree immediately came into view, and their dragon shot right out over the domed crowns of the Inisfreean DropShips and much wider ColonyPods landed on the military strip of the beach below them. Out over the mile-wide lake they flew, just a few stories over the water's surface, and right over the top decks of the handful of large and extremely luxurious super-yachts floating on the crystal-clear plane and its Caribbean-colored depths below. The dragon began to ease into a turn that eventually led it to bank almost into a barrel roll as it darted just off to the side and out of the way of the half-mile-tall, palm tree shaped hotel rising like a giant spire straight up from the white sands of the beach on the far side of the lake from the DropShips and ColonyPods. Next, they passed by the sleek white neck of the hotel that looked more like an upside-down golf tee the size of a mile-tall cone elongating into a needle. This was the Bed & Breakfast Spire, and as Sarah looked up at its narrow tip poking at the starry Inisfreean sky amidst the aurora wisps high above their dragon's flight path, she would see the narrow, white 'arms' of the hotel's structure stretching out laterally and holding the disc-shaped platforms atop which their fancy canopy beds were anchored for the most amazing, open-air skyscraper views in all of the realm. One day, the thought was let slip into her mind, she might earn her right to enjoy a night alone with her Master of Masters up there. One day...
As the dragon flapped its wings a few more times, finding the next wind current to ride, relax, and coast upon, its shoulder blades and back muscles moved and repositioned themselves beneath its scaled flesh just behind Sarah and her King, lifting them up a bit as that movement spread into its van-sized lower neck, and then easing them back down to straddle it, and then they were flying back into the mouth of the mile-deep canyon, past the blur of its luxury cliffdwelling residences, and out the other end from which they'd entered, where the Slant-top Spire rock formation came into view up ahead on their right and rose more than a mile up from the forest floor at the base of the desert plateau cliff face, the 1.75-miles-diameter base of the Temple of Auz dome rising and curving up nearly a mile into the air off to their left. Soaring between these two towering constructs, Sarah was then misted by the cool spray coming off one of the three waterfalls pouring down over and off the ledge of the slanted plateau that topped the 1.25-miles-tall rock formation rising nearly half a mile over the top of the higher of the two desert plateaus to her right. A few seconds later, they were descending down amidst the gusts of more quickly flapping wings, and leaning forward as the dragon uprighted itself and raised its head on a flexing neck nearly rolling them backward and down off its shoulders (though, always careful with them, it would never risk such a thing). The mighty beast of the skies settled down onto a sandy clearing at the base of the 3/4-mile-tall cliffs, bowed its head all the way down until its chin was touching the ground again, and waited for them to dismount. While all the other Outlanders had tours guided by Inisfreean hostesses on foot, in vehicles, and in airships, This was Sarah's tour of their special home city; Sarah rode its dragons with the King.
The King threw his leg back over the dragon's neck --in the opposite direction this time-- and dismounted, snapping his fingers at Sarah, signaling her to quickly dismount and resume heeling him. He offered her no hand to help, for she was a slave. If she fell, it was her problem, and he would likely whip her for such clumsiness, though he would always have a rich mix of feelings about that, loving how she submitted to such things and all.
Standing with his hand at his side, middle finger up and hooked again, he waited for her to get her pussy back down and around it, from which point he would march her through the secret passageway into the cliff face and back into the underground tunnel network which would lead her back home to her slave quarters in the Receiving Facility a third of a mile below the surface of the desert plateau they had just flown alongside; that subterranean network of silos reserved for the education and acclimation of her and all her worthy kind, that they might one day get along perfectly with the Inisfreeans anywhere they go.
"When you see any of the slave girls who have been punished to the full extent of Inisfreean law you witnessed back there on the other side of our lake," he rumbled to Sarah, "take them under your wing and offer to help them make sure they never slip up that badly again. Inisfree enjoys punishing offenders with the same passion that it fucks the compatible, but we prefer to only punish through fun bondage and sadomasochism those we fuck. It is Your job to make sure we kill fewer slaves and fuck many more. You have already been noticed doing an irreproachable job imparting your growing wisdom to your sisters in training. See to it that you do the same for those amongst them who you learn have been allowed to live through our worst punishments. I know you will blow us all away with how brilliantly you execute this command."
As far as the king was concerned, Sarah had done so well since the Inisfreeans had brought her to their home that he considered her to already be a graduate of their kajirae program. All that was needed now was to wrap up her last few training events and make it official with her graduation ceremony.
With that, he took his middle finger out of her pussy, the double doors of the Receiving Facility's luxurious lobby silently slid laterally apart in front of them, and he cupped his hand and popped her on her ass so hard that it lifted her a foot off the ground, leaving a stinging, pink handprint all the way across her right asscheek. He was very talented in doing such things, for it would sting and shock her evenly, not harming her or even leaving a bruise; he'd struck her so precisely that her entire asscheek would briefly swell and throb with the echo of his lusting, hungry hand, reminding her both of her place... and how much he loved and desired her, already almost unable to stop himself from grabbing that ass of hers and pumping her full of yet another dozen thick, hot, slippery ropes of his seed.
The King turned and left Sarah there, and one of the Master Females inside, nude, curvy, and with a full head of cascading hair slowly changing colors like the irises of her eyes, walked up to receive and usher her back inside. Sarah was left with her wrists handcuffed behind her back, and those cuffs chainlinked to the back of her collar, for the rest of the night and next day, forcing her to sleep like that, then request the help of her fellow slave-girls-in-training to wash her so she was ready for inspection by 5 A.M. the next day. She had done nothing wrong; the Inisfreeans had just come to enjoy enslaving her, their new favorite servant, and it was through her mastery of willingly submitting to these things... that her salvation lay, as well as the rekindling of all Inisfreean hearts in her favor. In time, their king's rage would simmer back down, the volcano that it was... never going off, and Sarah would be the brightness in his eyes, this time... once and for all.
The Following Morning:
After Sarah had collapsed into the pile of her sisters in training, clearing her mind for a day and a night, just as the King had told her, a Master Female inspected her entire body, including all of her orifices and oral cavity, and then he appeared in the silently opening double doors of the inspection room, stepping inside to inspect her for himself.
"How did she do?" he rumbled to his Master Female, though this was just an old-fashioned form of communication he enjoyed using to see and hear more of his Inisfreean children, for their thoughts were shared with him automatically; he already knew exactly how Sarah had done, for the link he shared with each of his Inisfreean children was so profound that it was as if he had been inspecting her himself.
The Master Female, a foot shorter than him, smiled beautifully to him and shrugged, "She is only a slave." The remark was designed to boil Sarah's blood a little bit, making her burn to defy such words and strive even harder to prove herself even more. The Master Female stepped aside.
The King of all Inisfree stepped right up in front of Sarah, squaring off with her and looking down into her eyes and at her lips as he began his review and diagnosis...
Survival training came next, and it was as much designed to teach the girls how to live and rebuild from scratch with nothing, as it was to make them so used to cuddling and snuggling as tightly together with each other as possible that they would forever after long for each potential moment where they might be called upon to be that close again. It was a great way to show them just how wonderful, miraculous, and lifesaving being nude and close together could be when in the right setting and team. It was a great way to make group showers and group sex feel as normal as breathing.
Left out in the rainstorms that were programmed to frequent the part of Inisfree called F.A.U. Crater (short for Ferngully-Avatar-Un'goro; a fusion of the rainforest areas of each of those films and game zones), Sarah's class of nude teenage girls struggling to become kajirae together had to figure things out on their own very, very quickly. This quick thinking cultivation would make them Very valued slaves, as they would thereafter be much better suited for pleasing the pickiest and most temperamental and mercurial of Masters.
The rain poured down in thick, soaking sheets, leaving Sarah and her classmates no choice but to find the best natural shelters in the mile-deep crater of a triple canopy and plants which, like all Inisfreean creations, could not be broken or harmed in any way. There was no way to tear or twist apart and stack them to make a lean-to. All that could be done was to learn how water and wind moved over their surfaces, and pick the best spots where they could use their hands to push up the dirt and mud to form wind-breaks and sleeping ditches which would reflect their bodyheat back onto them from most sides while the rainwater followed leaf creases and poured out away from them, allowing them to sleep with less moisture as their bodyheat slowly dried their earthen bed-pits.
Once they got the hang of sleeping outdoors in rainstorms and gusts of wind, as well as making shelters without harming either animals or plants, they were advanced to their next training evolution; they would have to learn how to do so high up on the circular plateau of Inisfree's highest and central mountain. Their instructors, all Master Females as always, marched them up the steep slope of the two miles tall, conical rock formation, told them which areas were off limits for this exercise, and then walked back away. The girls, still nude, would again have to sleep wrapped up in each other's arms to prevent from freezing and losing the ability to wake back up from the deep sleeps their bodies would enter if hypothermia during exhausted napping settled in. They would also have to use their bare hands to quickly fashion snow-caves before they lost control of their extremities, taking turns hurriedly digging and shaping the snow while their teammates held their hands in their armpits or crotches to warm them back up for successive rounds of use. One of them had been given a burlap sack full of straw, and that became their bedding once the snow-cave was formed. The burlap sack became the curtain and door to block out the chilly drafts and light (bright enough to cause snow-blindness in some cases) from the snow-cave's only opening.
The girls wouldn't be able to sleep closely enough to each other no matter How they lied, but this fact was crucial to rewiring their entire essences since they hadn't grown up used to this before. They had to become that comfortable and wanting of each other; to feel it in their very bones and tremblings, not just understand the logic of it in their thoughts, in order to be the most natural and pleasing of kajirae. Even on Gor, such levels of pleasure-slave grace, instinct, and training were not common. Inisfree was taking it to a whole new level, and Sarah and her teammates would be one of the first classes to benefit from this breakthrough and evolutionary leap forward.
Over the days and weeks that passed, Sarah and her classmates would begin to notice, a little more each day and with each experience and trial, that they weren't anywhere near as sleepy, exhausted, sore, or fragile as they'd ever been in the Outlands. They were full of more energy, stamina, resilience, and clever ideas than any of them had probably ever thought possible, and as they made these discoveries throughout their training program, the Governor sat in one of his lofty, exclusive, palatial constructs and enjoyed a fatherly smile spreading across his whole face as he watched them and their eyes lighting up through the special display visible inside his mind's eye. He wondered if Sarah could feel him taking a special and even greater interest in Her, and hoped she would become that which he sensed she was destined to be; the girl he would call Kajira 1; highest ranking, sexiest, and most prized of all his slave girls.
Sarah and the other girls were taken on tours of many of the parts of the city, and, often, this showed them wondrous, heavenly, luxurious landscaping in every single place, including as overflowing vines and flowers from coated ceramic pots and bowls the size of cars, and tiered, terraced, cascading lawns full of beautifully arranged color patches and plants of well paired height and form differences. Some of the trees were faintly bioluminescent, glowing softly as living street-lights at night, and giant mushrooms grew from the trunks of the larger trees, spiraling up them, as sturdy as staircase steps, which the girls were encouraged to learn to trust as climbing and sitting aids. The vines, they also learned, were as strong as the girls born of this realm; apparently unbreakable, and so it was that the girls were able to swing to and fro on these vines which only stretched enough to aid them in their grips.
One day, Sarah would notice that one of the bushes was responding to her presence; the nearer she got, the more its cattails leaned and bent, curving toward her. If she got close enough for them to touch, they swayed up and down, and back and forth, more than just with the gentle breeze, caressing her as if beckoning her to mingle amongst them. Any of the other girls who got close enough to explore this curious, responsive plant were likewise petted and playfully seduced, and the moment they were within the cattails, their phallic tips began to tease the girls' clits, labia, assholes, and lips... finally, in some cases, parting and penetrating them -ever so gently. Some of the plants naturally occurring in Inisfree, it turned out, just as some were bioluminescent, were phallic --and sometimes both. A girl had to be careful around such arousing flora, for beyond their aphrodisiac fragrances, they could be used as automatic dildos; battery-free sex toys that operated in total silence, quite relaxing and relieving in a city where there seemed to be no men, save the Governor. If the girls weren't mindful and very well self controlled, they could lose track of the time and spend all Day wrapped up in the penetrating, penis-like apendages of the plants they found to be thus oriented.
Some of these specially engineered plants were even giant versions of Venus Flytraps; these ones, of course, being designed not to digest what was lured into them, but to feel like a warm bubble bath in a slowly churning jacuzzi, surrounding the girl inside with tongue- and dildo-tipped tentacles licking them all around and over every part and surface all at the same time. While the tongue-like tentacles of vines used their tips to lick circles around the clit while simultaneously, with other vine tips, lick little paths into the ear holes, all of them wet from the aromatic juices of the 'tub' of this kind of plant, the girl held inside would be nearly helpless to resist such intense pleasure and sweet-spot combinations. The sensation was overwhelming, erotic, exotic, intoxicating, and easily more than enough to make their legs shake and their pussies clench down around the unlikely probes and flawless techniques. Whenever a girl in Inisfree was horny and wanted to be by herself, didn't want to Do things to herself, or just wanted to put on a lovely, sexy, enticing show for all who might be in the wilderness there watching, all she had to do was approach one of these plants, wait a second or two for it to open up to her, and ease right in. Its parts would do the rest, synchronizing with her body signals and moans and panting, and bringing her, very, very swiftly and expertly, to full-bodied, long-lasting, spine-shivering orgasms -until she managed to get herself back out, though that typically took over an hour of self-convincing, or, at least, a helpful girlfriend waiting on the outside to pull her free, though often just to have her Own turn at the fantastic fun.
A girl from Sarah's small class screamed with delight a week into the aftermath of those discoveries, having found that when she pretended to resist, these Sybian-like plants grew Very aggressive, sensing her sexual playfulness and giving the unquestionable appearance that they were raping her. Once the girl reached a powerful orgasm and hung limp, savoring the moment, the plants slowly slid back out of her, and released her tightly restrained limbs, reluctantly letting her go, as if they (the plants, too) had been just as aroused and orgasmically relieved in the process. The girl stumbled away with a drunken smile on her face, collapsing into the soft Inisfreean grass and just staring up dreamily into the heavens, feeling all the cum which had filled her starting to slide and trickle back out. Several of the other girls tested her clever approach, and all of them were swiftly and roughly fucked, much to their delight, most of them staying bound for successive rounds, and all of them, eventually, going back for more.
"The city is alive," an Inisfreean girl's voice had whispered into Sarah's mind at some point after all of this, once it was clear that Sarah was calm enough to pay attention to it. "So many things here are designed to please you in so many different ways... but be mindful," that sweet girl's voice gently warned, "for plants such as these, and the 'smart'-surfaces you walked and slid on, and so many other Inisfreean constructs... can all just as easily be used to surprise, scare, defend, restrain." The point was that even the plants and walkways, and possibly Everything in Inisfree --maybe even the air of the sky itself-- could and would be used, whenever necessary, to help slow, catch, and even punish any outsiders who might prove offensive during their visits or stays in the city.
But even that friendly word of caution was very well met by the girls in Sarah's groups, for they had been allowed to ease into such things, rather than being startled and dominated by them. They had been gently introduced to them at the right time, and Over time, and given the gift of self-discovery during every step of the way. The only time those 'smart'-plants had been used against them was when one of the girls failed to respond quickly enough when being called to stop and turn around; a few vines had launched out at her like whips, quickly caught her limbs, wrapping around them until they pulled taut, and swept her off her feet and raised her high overhead to hang upside down until the Inisfreean bid them release her.
That evening, as happened on a few of every week's days, the Inisfreean girl in charge of Sarah's training class sat down with them, all nude and seated 'Indian style', and asked the girls if any of them wished to share her thoughts and feelings about the recent experiments and findings regarding Inisfree's signature plantlife. Inisfreeans didn't seem to have any pens or paper, let alone journals or notebooks, and certainly not any diaries, so these discussions helped them vent and reassess and share, all the while elasticizing their minds, expanding their memories (to become their New form of a diary, and photographic, no less), and further bonding them with one another and all their Inisfreean Masters.
*A few vampires and other races represented in Inisfree are watching, sitting at my side, or in the booths adjacent mine, occasionally smiling over my way, and I tell Sarah who and what they are.
It was time to witness one of the literally underground games held in Inisfree's subterranean Vatican architectural clone; that vast, massive cavern in which there stood the Greco-Roman wonders of one of the mightiest -and now fallen and erased- realms of the Outland world.
Sarah had done nothing wrong that day, and so had only been whipped once and rewarded with a very rough hate-fucking; rough usage deemed a great honor to any girl, Outland and Inisfreean alike. She had requested that her Inisfreean captors rape her one more time, and at last they had. In Inisfree, nothing was just Given to a slave; everything was earned, and delayed gratification was the modus operandi of each day.
On their way into the Subterranean Vatican, one of them spoke vocally (as opposed to telepathically) to Sarah, giving her another bit of Inisfreean information which she would be expected to learn more about and come to terms with in her own slave way; "In the Outlands, those who commit terrible acts, such as war criminals, get put on trial and executed for their capital offenses. In Inisfree, the same is true, except that the crimes we deem to be capital are different, as are our forms of trial and sentencing. The vast majority of capital offenders here are tried through this Subterranean Vatican facility we use as a gladiatorial arena. In the Outlands, the vast majority are disintegrated in various ways, sometimes like what you witnessed when you were first liberated from your mundane slavery there during the invasions of our Rapture Campaign. What you are about to see in this facility, Sarah," the Inisfreean girls were purposefully not giving her the honor of being addressed as kajira or even slave slut just yet, "are the fair, proportional, and long-awaited punishments designed to please the good people while teaching through pain the bad ones, just as in the Outlands before the rise of Inisfree these bad ones designed their words and actions to please other bad people while wronging through pain, ugliness, and theft all the good people. Doing such things, especially when they rob an innocent being of what naturally makes them happy, is a war crime in the eyes of Inisfree, just as staying ugly in any way is. And so it is that we have hunted these grave offenders down and brought them here to be tried in the victorious end of the evil war they waged for countless generations out there. Their time has finally come, and the ways in which they choose to be ugly will forever end right here. Their punishments will be severe... and made to take a Very long time; as much time, in fact, and more, as they took from lives of the good people now reclaiming their cleansed Outlands. These bad ones were not fair to any of Us, and so We will never be fully fair to any of Them. Ironically, though, That is what's fair."
Sarah was a slave, yes, and was not to expect any explanations for the schooling and training she was scheduled to receive, but there was something more --something special-- in the works for this pretty little barbarian slave girl from the outer surface of the Earth. She would learn some of the Inisfreean law, philosophy, and other secret knowledge which would help her to grow into the role they had destined for her; the role of first kajira, which is for unarmed Outlander girls the Inisfreean equivalent of the Gorean cities' First Sword; top position reserved for the most learned and skilled. *Although, of course, the Goreans Do also have the position 'First Girl'.
Sarah was made to sit on her heels and hug the calf and shin of the Governor, Lord Himmler, as he sat on a throne made of a dozen Inisfreean girls having woven their bodies together to form his living resting place for the duration of the gladiatorial combat viewing.
Inisfreeans, masters of acoustics and harmonics, suddenly shocked and wowed everyone in the stands encircling the brown and gray sand and dirt filled sparring pit; seemingly from out of thin air, and coming from every direction at once, blasted the amazing notes of a thousand trumpets all in perfect synchronization with one another, and at a volume that vibrated their very bones, resonating straight through everyone's full skeleton.
Next, the timpani drums were struck, along with stretched hides that were beaten at a rapid tempo producing an eerie, otherworldly buzzing sound the likes of which the world had not known since the ancient times when armies of a million Celtic warriors conquered all of Europe and terrified the Romans into building entire fort-cities and miles of trenches and walls along their northern border where the Swiss Alps barely slowed their imminent approach. The buzzing filled the whole cavern and echoed off all the towering, polished marble structures that comprised this subterranean Vatican.
After the Opening Theme of this Convicts version of the Olympic Games had finished playing, the cavernous chamber fell into silence as the reverberations of the music slowly settled and left the spectators' bodies.
"Bring out the offenders!" a loud, musical, perfectly honed and rehearsed female voice called, again through what seemed like megaphones hidden in all directions, invisible and high up in thin air.
A thousand teenage girls, clearly from the Outlands due to their inappropriate barbarian demeanors, were marched out in 10 chain-gang rows, single file. All of them had random strips of their scalp shaved to humiliate them. All of them were nude only except for the metal collars around their necks.
100 Inisfreean girls casually strode out, also single file, though completely unbound, forming a circle around the square formation of the 10 rows of 100 offenders each. Each Inisfreean girl carried with her a coiled whip. Upon closer inspection, it was possible to see that the ends of each whip split into many tips; "cat o' nine tails"; the gruesome implement of the Romans used so that each crack of the whip caused nine simultaneous lashings, each one penetrating and tearing away a sliver of flesh via the metal barb securely fixed to each of the nine tips.
The 100 Inisfreean girls uncoiled these special whips and faintly smiled menacingly at the offensive Outlander girls they had trapped within their invincible cordon. Just one of these Inisfreean girls carried with her the strength, speed, and sensory perception of Superman, and could generate escape velocity and fly into Space and even the stars using nothing more than the willpower of her own mind. To best one in combat or a game of wits was unthinkable, for they were living supercomputers, as well. And there were 100 of them surrounding nothing more than half a battalion's worth of puny, untrained, mind-cluttered, mortal wenches who would be blinked out of existence in an instant the moment it was the Governor's will that they be ended so.
Unfortunately for them, it was not; the Governor would extend their punishment and suffering to the maximum extent of their bodies' and minds' capacities to endure.
Millions more of these invincible Inisfreean girls filled the risers rising up the walls on all sides; an outer cordon of LEGIONS of Supergirls, each with her hair and eyes slowly shifting through all the colors any human could see, and each with the most serene, sexy, and horny aura.
"Let the games begin!" that same voice, impossibly sexy and stirring, yelled out, filling the Vatican arena with its resounding notes and command.
There was no waiting. All 100 whip-bearing girls unleashed their 'cat o' nine tails', stinging them across the bare flesh of the weak and mortal Outlander teens, leaving all of those 1,000 girls recoiling, screaming, and frantically fighting to free themselves from their heavy collars and chains.
"Whoever fights all the girls around her... will have her sentence reduced," the voice called out across the heated, tense air of the fighting pit.
The girls turned on each other and began to punch, kick, bite, scratch, and strangle each other. Some fell to the sand and dirt of the ground as those adjacent them descended upon them like crazed pack animals. Some tripped backward over them as other pursuers engaged them. The screaming and wailing, coughing and choking, gagging and vomiting, wheezing and yelling began.
For a minute straight they beat each other senseless, some of their chains becoming draped over those of the other rows. The browns and grays of the pit's floor began to darken with the spreading strains of dripping sweat, streaking blood, and splashing urine. Some of the fiercer girls even zeroed in on this, targeting the bladders of the girls who looked like they were struggling to keep in their pee, and hitting them repeatedly there, pummeling them like that until the desired effect was achieved and humiliating piss came streaming out, golden and sparkling down their bruised, cut, and dirtied legs.
Girls who did not fight fiercely enough were whipped, leaving cuts all along whatever parts of their bodies were struck by the 'cat o' nine tails' ends. Girls who cowered were whipped even More. Girls who were defeated and collapsed down to the pit's ground were whipped the most, encouraging them to get back up, lest they be skinned alive by the incessant barbs striking and maiming them again and again and again.
The smarter girls quickly realized that once they had knocked a girl down, it was best to stay away from her and turn to fight another Standing girl, lest they be too close to the toppled ones and, thereby, be inadvertently struck by the same flying barbs.
All of the trumpets blasted a single note now, signaling the end of the first round of fighting.
The 100 whip-bearing Inisfreean girls snapped their fingers and pointed down at the feet of the 1,000 girls who were all struggling to their feet again, limping and wincing, none of them having ever been put through Anything like this before. They were quick to obey, and though they had just barely managed to get back on their feet and into the formation of 10 rows again, they dropped even More quickly back down to the ground, assuming not the Gorean pleasure-slave position, but one on all fours where their asses were up high and their faces were smashed down into all the sand, dirt, sweat, blood, and piss, now joining it with their streams of tears and spit trickling out from busted lips.
The 100 Inisfreean girls spent a few seconds kicking waves of sand and dirt into the faces of all those 1,000 girls who did their best to squint, blink, and otherwise not make a move. They knew from telepathically transmitted visions what lied in store for them if they disobey and proved offensive further.
The trumpets blasted for the third time, signaling the next stage of the games.
Each chain-gang of 100 nude girls was locked to the trailer hitch of an elephant-drawn chariot. The chariots signaled their elephants to jog, and the girls were yanked forward and forced to run behind them to keep up. This lasted for several minutes as the 10 elephants and their chariots began to make laps and course changes around within the area of the wide fighting pit. Eventually, some of the girls stumbled, collapsed, and were dragged, tripping up many of the others, and resulting in some of them being trampled to death by passing elephants, then further crushed by the wheels of the chariots, and finally tangled up in the passing lines of other girls still collared into their chain-links.
By the time the trumpets sounded for the fourth time, a third of them were dead.
The dead girls were freed from their collars, but now all of their remaining 'sisters' were left to pick up their slack; their lengths of the chain, and their collars, were now hanging as extra weight between those they had died next to. While these surviving girls, sweating profusely and wincing as the salty liquid beaded and trickled into their many cuts, were hurried off to the inside perimeter of the fighting pit and fitted in straightjackets, the corpses of their freshly trampled 'sisters' were ripped apart and devoured by a pack of Southern Kaiilas given as gifts to the Inisfreeans by the Priest-Kings years before. All of the girls being tightly bound inside straightjackets dared not avert their eyes from the bodies of their 'sisters' being eaten whole just a few meters out in front of them. If they had looked away even for one second, they would have been freed of their chain and sent tumbling into the range and reach of the vicious kaiilas, damned to a far worse fate even than Them; They would be eaten aLive.
Again, the trumpets sounded from all sides and high above. It was like something out of the Bible's Revelations.
Again, the remaining girls, now numbering 720, were herded and hurried back into the middle of the fighting pit. Now, still collared and chained in lines of 100 collars (some of which still hung empty), they stood in their straightjackets as the Inisfreean girls approached them from all sides and began to beat their bare legs and asses with Shinai; the bamboo swords used in Kendo to harden the body to stinging blows. Naturally, the Inisfreean girls caused as many welts on the poor girls' legs and asscheeks as they were aiming for, leaving another number of the remaining 720 falling to their knees and yanking down the girls nearest them on their chains.
Nearly all of them were shivering and sobbing uncontrollably now, knowing that all they could do was endure their punishments and hope that they'd be allowed to heal.
After the Shinai beatings slowed to an end, the girls were ordered to stand back up by another wave of fingers and thumbs snapping just one time per Inisfreean. No longer having the use of their arms, they were forced to put even more pressure on the growing number of wounds all over their legs and asses as they struggled even harder to get back to their feet for the next round. This produced many involuntary cries out of overwhelming stinging pains, and once all 720 girls were standing in formation again, all of them were trembling, their faces soaked in tears. Their hair was tangled and matted now, their faces caked in the various filth of the pit, and some of them didn't even notice they were urinating on themselves.
The 100 Inisfreean girls, still standing right up in front of them, singled out 100 of the 720 prisoners at random and began to slap them back and forth across their faces, again and again and again, unrelenting and at unpredictable intervals, though still rapidly enough to make anyone watching drop their jaws. Inisfreeans could derail a train with a slap if they really wanted to, and so this degree of slapping was positively mortifying even though they were keeping the power of their blows to less than a fraction of a percent. If at any moment they got carried away, the Outlander girls they were striking would have their heads slapped clean off. The 720 collared and straightjacketed girls did their best to accept every slap, daring not a single attempt to duck out of the way, lest they provoke the Inisfreeans to merciless mortal blows that would surely decapitate them, leading to their consumption by the returning kaiilas.
Again, the trumpets sounded, and the drums played for a second time as older females, all much later in their Outlander womanhood, were marched out, likewise chained into lines of 100. These were their mothers who had been kept unconscious in stasis tubes like futuristic coffins until this very moment when they were allowed to gain consciousness during their surprise entrance straight out into the underground arena. Their last memories were of their entire neighborhoods being disintegrated right out from under them, and all their fellow citizens eating and raping each other to death in the mass-mind-control exterminations used as initial punishments of their metastasizing species that had raped, enslaved, mass-murdered, and polluted the entire Earth into madness and the very edge of extinction. Now they stood on trial, in the Inisfreean manner, for what they had allowed their species to do to itself and everyone else around it.
The 100 Inisfreean girls walked back away from the center of the fighting pit where the 720 remaining girls still stood in their block formation. They handed off their 'cat o' nine tails' whips to the 1,000 mothers. It was obvious what they were expected to do, but having just regained consciousness in a completely alien setting, it took a few firm telepathic orders to spur them into action; grizzly visions of them being fed alive to the kaiilas if they did not whip and further cut their daughters massed before them.
Of course, some of the mothers couldn't bear to do it, and so the Inisfreean girls walked up and twisted their heads clean off, tossing them to the feet of the other mothers, who thereafter more purposefully stepped into range of the daughters and began to whip them.
"Why did you raise such mouthy bitches?" the female announcer's voice calmly pestered the mothers with rhetoric from high above.
They were made to endure the emotional agony of whipping their daughters with the 'cat o' nine tails' for another minute straight until the blasting trumpets relieved them of this... only to then assign it in reciprocity; the daughters were freed of their straightjackets, handed the bloodied 'cat o' nine tails', and ordered (telepathically, as always) to whip and cut their Mothers this time. A few more heads were twisted clean off by Inisfreean bare hands, and sufficient motivation was achieved; the whipping and cutting began, and many of the 992 mothers were left to collapse down into the sand and dirt -along with the strings of gooey guts left behind from the bitten and dragged pieces of the daughters now totally unidentifiable.
The 717 remaining daughters were herded to the inside perimeter of the fighting pit, the 992 mothers were herded to the center to replace their formation, the kaiilas were herded back in, and the daughters watched as their mothers were eaten alive right in front of them. Helpless, soul-wrenching shrieks filled the cavernous arena, and the Inisfreean spectators sat, some with their legs casually crossed, some in piles of their fellows, making out with each other just as casually, filling the stands and watching the whole spectacle without a concern in the world; justice was being done to the monsters who had ruined countless lives (of humans and billions of people from other species) in the Outlands for untold millennia. Finally, the Trail of Tears 2 was happening to those who deServed it; the breeders who recklessly spawn ugliness, stupidity, apathy, disrespect, and chaos.
The trumpets sounded, the kaiilas left the fighting pit to return out of sight to wherever they had been kenneled, and the blood-soaked and guts-strewn sand and dirt of the fighting pit floor was now open for the 717 daughters to file back toward and onto. They were standing barefoot on the remains of their mothers. The chains and collars which had once held them were no longer in use; emptied of the women they'd once bound, they remained in weaving lines atop the filthy, soaked, and stinking ground. They were left there as the latest obstacle and distraction for the remaining girls to cry about and trip on during the next round.
The 100 Inisfreean girls tossed their 'cat o' nine tails' into the center for the 717 to struggle to catch and fight over. Their straightjackets were on the ground, too, also in the way, and many of them who managed to avoid all these foot-falls still got yanked every which way by the sections of chain snapping taut as girls ran in opposite directions or played tug-o-war back and forth to pull their 'sisters' away from the incoming whips -or off their feet when they, having Caught those whips, tried to make use of them.
Some of the girls were beginning to feel light-headed from the all-encompassing stinging and blood loss. After a full minute of this brutal, chaotic battling, the Inisfreean girls approached the mob of 717, tore off some of their limbs, used those limbs to beat to death some of the other girls, and then walked back away with their reclaimed 'cat o' nine tails', 688 Outlander girls left standing.
The trumpets sounded. The Inisfreean girls flung keychains into the center for the girls to free themselves with; they were the keys to their collars. None of the keys looked any different from the others, and many of them were for the empty collars of the late mothers and daughters, so it took several minutes for anyone to find any matches between the keys and filled collars, but when they did, they quickly scurried away from the other girls, knowing only more horrible fighting could ever come in such a 'courtroom' as this.
The kaiilas could be heard making their predatory calls from somewhere out of sight, their appetites having been whetted by the fresh kills they'd feasted and gorged themselves upon only minutes prior. A few more of the 688 still surviving gained their temporary freedom from the collars and chain-gangs, and got as much dispersion as they possibly could from those still bound -AND those now freed. All of them looked like shit; like hell; beaten to a pulp. Some of their eyes were swollen shut. Some of their teeth were missing. Their partially-shaved heads of long hair were more of a mess than ever, and with all of their wounds and stains, they looked like they'd been camouflaged for a haunted house.
The trumpets sounded and the 100 Inisfreean girls herded the 688 into 2 long lines terminating at two chopping blocks a couple meters apart from one another. The first two girls were ordered to kneel and place their heads onto the blocks such that their necks were resting in thick, shallow, metal grooves. Those would ensure that their decapitation was not complete, even if the blow had been delivered flawlessly; their heads would remain stuck on their bodies only by their throats as they were pulled aside, their heads then flopping forward and down so that their faces pressed into their chests upside down.
Facing each other, the pairs of girls on the chopping blocks had their heads chopped off (down to their throats; not clean-through) by their fellows; it was not the Inisfreeans, but the other girls waiting to be executed in the same 2 lines, who were made to do the hacking and chopping. Given a pair of battle-axes that were traded off, each pair of girls decapitated the pair of girls just in front of her in the line, took their places on the chopping blocks, and were then executed by the girls behind them, who then took Their place. This cycle was repeated until the spectators grew bored of this and were ready for the next round. When the trumpets blew, there were 406 girls remaining, and a pile of their 'sisters' mostly-decapitated bodies in the center of the fighting pit --bodies which they had dragged over there, two by two, after every execution, knowing they would be next.
The girls had now cried so much that they physically could not cry any more, and their eyes were red, lips dry, and nude bodies battered like the worst of assault victims.
"For the countless heroes you insulted, for the lives you wrecked, for the unfathomable verbal and physical pollution you shamelessly generated, for the laws you abused, for the nightmares and bankruptcies and suicides you caused, and for everything else in between, enjoy your long overdue rewards. It is time to reap what you sewed," the female announcer unwaiveringly declared. "Let all the good people rejoice, for those born of evil, who dared to disguise themselves in the same skins to buy themselves more time to commit more acts of unspeakable evils, are now held accountable, and karma shalt be tenfold to make up for the time."
Random bladed weapons and clubs were tossed at the 406, but as they were picking them up and looking warily at them and one another, knowing what they were expected to do next, and wondering if Any of them would be allowed to live through this day, the announcer spoke once again; "Those who cast dirty looks at the Inisfreean people during these games are hereby sentenced to the Rape Fields where you will be subjected to rapes you will Not enjoy." She didn't mention the fact that the Rape Fields almost always include being dragged down into the Rape Chambers of the Underway where further alien horrors await.
"Of those left, those who are the least attractive at this moment... are hereby sentenced to the Iso-Cubes." She did not mention that, as with the Previous punishment area, one always had the chance to prove herself worthy of being upgraded to the next slightly lesser punishment area.
"Of those left, those who did poorly in these games... are sentenced to the desert volcano." She did not mention that most of them would not be cast into its caldera; only chained to sleep on its terribly coarse slopes.
"Of those left, those who did well... but still failed... are sentenced to an airlock of one of the Pearly Gates." She did not mention that the particular airlock typically reserved for these sentenced offenders was at a constant 40°F, and that it was a completely empty and featureless rectangular prism large enough for an aircraft carrier to sail through, and upon whose hard, flat, cold floor they would be sleeping and living.
"Of those left, those who are did best in these games... are sentenced to the kennels." She did not mention that this, the least of the post-games punishments, meant that they would wear muzzles, choke-collars, and be led around by a leash behind steeds and vehicles, fed table scraps, and be kept in this state of existence until the next gladiatorial games were held again in this Subterranean Vatican arena.
The trumpets sounded one last time, and the 100 Inisfreean girls retrieved their 'cat o' nine tails'. Coiling them back around their palms and elbows, they needed no further demonstrations to hurry the 406 survivors of these games into their four groups. Each Inisfreean girl already knew which had been sentenced in which ways, thanks to the I.N.N., and so it was only the girls who were uncertain even after being divided into the four groups, for many of them had similar wounds, and all of them wondered if, in their crazed and desperate states, they had cast offensive glances at any of the Inisfreeans. It would not be until each of the four groups had been marched through restricted-access tunnels of the subterranean silos network and reached their respective punishment destinations that any of them would know which levels of Hell they were to endure next.
For the girls who did best in the games, if they were very, very lucky, their rapes would be allowed to be enjoyable to them, though they would be kept in muzzles and straightjackets almost the entire time. If they were wise or lucky, they would show just enough anger, rage, resistance, sadness, and crying during these rapes to arouse their Inisfreean wardens more than disgust them, which would result in more rapes, rather than demotions to the next and worse punishment area. After all, girls who aren't enjoying their sex are so much sexier; 'paga hot', for one of the greatest aphrodisiacs is the word 'no'; non-consent on a very core level.
Sarah was told by the Inisfreean girl sitting nearest her that she would get to see the four punishment areas and their processes later on, though she would likely not be ready for what she would witness there. Hopefully, though, the Inisfreean added, she would instead be a rare Outlander and really get horny at the sights and sounds of such things, maybe even wanting to subject herself to them for a whole new level of slavery and sexy degradation.
The collars were reapplied, along with shortened sections of the chains (although there were still long lengths of the heavy links which they were made to carry as extra weight), and the four groups --each of a different number of girls-- were marched out of the fighting pit and then out of view. The 406 quickly became 405, though, because one of the girls winced a little too loudly for the Master Females to permit, and so the business end of a Meteor Hammer (a spiked metal ball on the end of a long chain) was sent flying from the shadows by one of the hidden guards to almost effortlessly dispatch the offending Outlander teen in a sickening, bone-splitting smack that burst her entire skull and sent her brains and eyeball pieces flying out in all directions. Just as expertly as it had been deployed, the weapon was yanked back, recoiling into the shadows from which it had been precisely, straightly launched, and the other girls fastened by their necks into that same chain-gang hastened to silently pick up the sagging section of their chain, along with her now emptied collar (her exploded head having allowed the rest of her body to easily drop down to the sandy, dirty floor as its neck slipped through the collar, soaking it completely in fountaining blood).
The rest of their route through some of the most restricted of Inisfree's underground tunnels was full of them being shoved, tripped, casually threatened with death by stabbing, spat on, and even subjected to some of the accepted kajirae (those who had never erred enough to be put into the Subterranean Vatican's games) blowing 'snot rockets' on them and flinging handfuls of dung from waste sacks at the chain-linked girls' faces. When one of the girls balled her fists and frowned for a second, 405 became 404; a Master Female walked up, unplugged both of her hands, and then shoved one of them all the way up into the girl's asshole, using the other severed hand to poke out her eyes. The girl screamed while all the others close enough to notice shivered and made not a whisper. The Master Female then let her fall to the floor in pain and frantic screaming, then stomped her throat flat, causing her to suffocate the rest of the way to death. Blood poured out of her eye sockets and asshole, and the rest of the girls on her chain had to drag her corpse like that all the way to their group's punishment destination. The girl began to twitch in her death throes, and the girls dragging her fought desperately to muffle their sobs lest a similar end be assigned to them.
404 became 401 once at their destinations; 3 of the girls succumbed to their wounds from the 'cat o' nine tails'. The rest did their best to heal after they'd been shackled and ballgagged at the prescribed sites. Several more went insane and lost the will to live, and they were kept there for all their 'sisters' to watch as their bodies shriveled in starvation and atrophy. Refusing or forgetting to eat did not earn euthanasia; there was no 'easy way out' of an Inisfreean sentencing. Their evils would be punished to the fullest extent of the Inisfreean law, and all comparable criminals would be present for their week-long executions by the negligence they had hurt the Outlands with in their previous chapters of life.
When all was said and done, after many more weeks of the assigned punishments for the various levels of offensiveness, barely 200 girls from their group of 1,000 were left, and all 200 of them were in bad shape, wobbly, disoriented, heartbroken, devastated, and on the verge of complete collapse and permanent physical and mental damage. Every now and then a Master Female acting as one of their wardens would walk up and punch through one of their hearts, or pinch the nose and lips shut on one of the girls until she gave up struggling, passed out, and never woke up again. "This is what all the other species of the Earth felt like while yours dominated them," a Master Female would sternly say to the other girls shackled to the ground all around the one that had just been terminated. "Now you know what it feels like." She stood up, leaving the latest corpse shackled there to twitch and rot where the rest of them slept, ate, and went to the bathroom on themselves. "Maybe next time, remembering these fair and long overdue punishments for your civilization's history of war crimes against all creatures, your pathetic species will not choose to be so evil."
The 200 girls held on to life by a thread as the Inisfreean girls took to having other imprisoned Outlander girls pissing and shitting directly onto the 200 to wake them up for more abuses each day. Toward the end of their sentences, the 200 dwindled down into the low 100s, several were promoted or demoted to to the other punishment sites, and the rest remained shackled to the ground --or in the tiny concrete boxes-- at each one.
119 girls survived and made it back to successive rounds of gladiatorial tournaments in the Subterranean Vatican, not one of them ever seeing the sky or light of day again. The least offensive ones at that point were allowed to run for their lives through a labyrinthine complex of the restricted-access tunnels as kaiilas were loosed to close in on their scent trails and chase them down, tackling and eating them to death, one at a time. Their skeletal remains were left where they lay; for all future chain-gangs of offensive Outlander girls to walk past and contemplate on.
In the Governor's Mansion; that most private and exclusive of estates and fortresses in all of the Inisfreean realm and empire, Sarah was allowed to walk on her own, unbound except for a choke collar on a leash as a sort of 'training bra' in preparation for her permanent collar. Heeling her Master, the Godking of Inisfree, she was led to a turbo-lift which sent them more than a mile straight down below the first basement of the Mansion... all the way to the second basement which was colloquially called The Batcave. Named for Bruce Wayne's command & control center basement, this Inisfreean one was more like that beneath Dr. Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.
Walking out past the end of the metal arm which served to hold viewers and operators up inside the center of the spherical Map Room, Lord Himmler continued strolling as if out across thin air. There was an invisible extension of the arm which reached all the way across, straight to the other side. He did not motion or call for Sarah to follow. She was expected to keep up, and, if she'd hesitated once she saw the drop-off dozens of feet down to the bottom of the Map Room's hollow sphere, she only had seconds to speed up to return to matching his pace right behind him. Heeling him properly was critical to avoid whippings, beatings, and worse.
The Governor continued walking, this time straight through what appeared to be a solid wall. Sarah might have guessed it was a very well made hologram or other optical illusion, but in actuality it was a quantum membrane which acted as a 'smart'-filter; a semi-permeable gate which only allowed the people the Governor himself wished to be able to pass through it. To all others, should they insanely attempt passage against his words and will, it would feel like solid steel, unmovable and unshakable.
On the other side of this false wall was an airlock, which looked like a cross between a maximum security disease research laboratory vault and a Spaceship docking and decompression chamber, and through which they continued their stroll. Only they had been able to enter it, so fine was the quantum gate and false wall behind them that not even air particles were able to pass through With them; not even a breeze would be felt if one was to stand right next to those passing through. In front of them, a more obvious and old-fashioned vault door unlocked and opened itself, sliding out of their way in silence as the Governor stepped through, setting first foot into his Mansion's private armory.
[she sees the three-story central courtyard, its smooth gray floor, feels the 'smart'-surface of the floor and walls around her, then notices the manikins in each compartment lining the walls of all three floors, and how they wrap around both sides from the airlock hatch through which they entered]
The Governor selected a few of his favorite weapons, each of which had been flash-cloned; sung into existence; the Inisfreean next-gen' form of 3D printing. Some were from computer and video games. Some were from sketches. Some were from his imagination, having never even been drawn. The Grid Mind had figured out how to engineer and produce them all.
Those he selected were retrieved from their wall slots by the manikins which turned out to be animatronics; girl-sized versions of the three half-mile-tall statues at the inside edge of the Welcoming Lot high above and miles away from them in this armory here. The flawlessly sexy girl manikins handed off the chosen weapons to Sarah who was then to sling them about her back and shoulders, heeling her Master back down to the courtyard's floor...
A circle of one dozen Master Females appeared two thirds of the way across the concrete-floored courtyard, encircling a group of Outlander women they'd teleported here from Inisfree's Subterranean Prison. The Master Females led them, bound with their wrists shackled to the back center of their collars, and with their ankles cuffed together by the same unbreakable metal, to stand at the far-end's wall, just beyond a series of colored warning stripes painted or laid as decals on the gray floor.
The metal loop on the back of each of their collars, already holding the locking loop of their handcuffs, was locked onto another loop bolted onto the far-end's sheer metal wall. All of the 7 Outlander women were immobilized in this way. All they would be able to do was raise their knees up their breasts, but then the Master Females fed a length of chain through all of their ankle-cuffs, locking them all into one chain-gang, making even that one possible movement a near impossibility.
The Master Females cast lovely glances of acknowledgement and sexual confidence at their Godking, then disappeared as quickly and silently as they had teleported in. Either they were cloaked and moving out of the way, or had teleported out. Sarah was not informed as to which had been the case this time.
Her Master, King of Inisfree, snapped his fingers at the table rising up from where it had lain flush down with the surface of the gray floor. It slowed into place, halting at waist height, and she was to place on this automated table the handful of weapons her Master had selected from the manikin-manned compartments on the three floors of perimeter balconies overlooking through their glass-wall panels this central courtyard and indoor firing range. Each weapon had to have its business end pointing down range; toward the far-end's wall of targets, lest she be beaten with the weapon and then, likely, also shot by it to drive the point home; weapons safety is not an option, though in Inisfree a negligent discharge or 'flagging' (pointing the muzzle of a weapon at someone) could only result in a startling and annoying experience; no one in Inisfree can be harmed unless it is the Governor's desire.
He snapped again, this time ending the snap with his pointer finger aimed at the floor at his side; she was to assume the position of the Gorean pleasure slave and watch what he did, becoming accustomed to everything her Master wished her to be present for. Picking up one of the weapons now on the table, he looked it over, ensured it was ready to fire, brought its buttstock into his shoulder, steadied and aimed it, slowly began to squeeze the trigger, and let loose a bolt of lightning that POPPED as it appeared in a white flash connecting the tip of his rifle to the center of one of the women's chests. The noise was deafening --especially in the enclosed firing range-- and the flash was blinding as it lit up and reflected repeatedly back and forth off all of the glass panels.
The woman fell limp in her shackles, slumping over and dropping a few inches, giving her whole body a shake as the collar's loop caught and clacked audibly against the unyielding strength of the metal loop holding it to the plate bolted into the targeting wall behind her. There was a black scorch mark that looked like a charred, smoking crater where her sternum and cleavage used to be. She had died instantly, swallowing her own tongue as her organs were liquefied.
The other women there, still just as tightly shackled at her sides, their arms up behind their heads as if they were surrendering for arrest, cried out and trembled, futily struggling against their shackles, some of them yanking their legs rather haphazardly as if they might somehow shake free of their restraints.
"Outlanders, unfortunately, are literal zombies, thus we use them for target practice." It wasn't a topic of discussion. It wasn't philosophy or rhetoric. The King was making a statement which his slave slut, Sarah Conrad, was to hear and accept. He was telling her what to think as much as he told her how to move and dress -or Not dress.
Still without looking to his side where she was kneeling in the position of the Gorean pleasure slave, he said a bit more in that rumbling voice of his; "Fortunately, we found a Few Outlander females who were worth bringing into Inisfree as potential slaves; girls with a hint of promise at evolving from the zombie horde from which, miraculously, they had been spawned."
It was a compliment -if Sarah had been able to detect that through what he implied by saying it in her presence.
"If there was any hope at all of salvaging these females," he continued to speak to Sarah while setting the lightning rifle down and picking up the next weapon from the table, "we would do so." He checked it and prepared to fire. "Even if all they were good for was the occasional rape, we would keep them alive and well here in Inisfree."
He squeezed the trigger and there was no sound; the weapon was silenced and fitted with a device called a Battle Comp which negated muzzle climb caused by an cartridge's explosive activation pushing back on the bolt face, compressing the buffer spring into its horizontal compartment, and, thereby, pushing back on the buttstock and then, via the buttstock assembly plate, the marksman's shoulder. It looked as though nothing had happened, but down-range the second of the wall-mounted women was convulsing as foam poured out of her mouth. Her body became so tense and rigid that every muscle group in it bulged visibly for a few seconds until some of her joints started popping... and then some of her bones started cracking, breaking, and popping out through her skin. She was involuntarily flexing all her muscles so tightly and quickly that she even broke her own back, her spine splitting in the middle and squeaking out through the flesh of her back.
The Governor set the second weapon back down on the table, in a word telling Sarah how it had done that; "Cyanide-tipped bullet."
He picked up a third weapon and prepared to fire on the third woman.
"Thankfully, when we encounter monsters posing as regular humans, we don't have to attempt rehabilitation, deprogramming, memory wiping, or age reversal anymore; we can isolate, extract, modify, and flash-clone whichever parts of their bodies and minds we find compatible, then terminate them within seconds by any number of means. There was a Dark Time before Inisfree learned how to do all those things... in which we simply had to endure their endless, shameless, merciless evils. That was quite draining. Quite taxing... Quite Hell," his expression soured a bit, taking a trip down memory lane to his years of being tortured at the hands of those very monsters.
The Governor squeezed the trigger of the third weapon, and again it seemed as if nothing had worked, ...but a couple seconds later, the third woman, accurately targeted, suddenly warped and stretched in toward her center from all sides, as if a microscopic black hole had been created in her very core, and that's exactly what happened. He set down the black-hole rifle and folded his arms as she was sucked into herself, disappearing out of her shackles as the remaining four women screamed, cried, trembled, and fought their restraints some more.
"I will never forget how many times I suffered unprovoked attacks while merely attempting to live a happy, peaceful, normal life out in their realm we now call the Outlands. The horrors and wounds and betrayals I endured; used as a whipping boy, then as sniper bait, and then a lab rat; a human guinea pig. Never again." Though stern, he was still calm, and both sounding and feeling somehow like rolling thunder.
He paused before picking up another of the weapons on the table. "Prisoners," he boomed to the women, his voice clearly now that of a hardened Marine Corps Drill Instructor and highly seasoned combat veteran.
They fell silent and motionless in their shackles.
"Select the next weapon which will be used against you," he grinned wolfishly.
One of them shivered in a wave of electric rage and defiance, screaming out some incoherent cuss word at him.
He strolled up to her and smiled. "Your kind spent three decades robbing me blind, even when I devoted my life to their protection, then kicked me while I was down, even when I was crippled by them." He flicked the tip of her nose with his finger. "Enjoy the same, monster. Your gender, age, and Outland status will afford you Nothing here, just as my heroic life afforded Me nothing out There."
Stepping back, he then brought his knee up and put his entire body into a sudden brutal kick straight into her belly, sending his entire boot all the way in, crushing all of her organs until his sole had reached the inner side of her spine.
The remaining three women screamed and cried out again as he proceeded to yank his guts-encrusted boot back out and pummel the dying woman in the face until no one could recognize her even as a human being.
He walked back to the table and resumed his stance from before, paused for a few seconds, and then raised his eyebrows. "Well? I'm WAITING." It was melodrama, not a yell, and his tone was clear; 'hurry up and pick the way you will die; choose how I will kill you.'
The remaining three women were too in shock now and didn't seem to get it; didn't make the connection in time.
"Oh; you want to keep me waiting. Very well. I shall do the Same, then."
He picked up an odd-looking, rifle-like weapon, aimed it, and squeezed the trigger. It had two tips at its front end, one of them bent up in a peculiar way. There was a hiss and a spark like that of a flint striker, and what started to look like the release of a pressure hose used for hydraulic drilling ignited in a bright flame that jetted straight out toward one of the women, severely burning her chest and groin.
Auz' released the trigger a second later, though, leaving her to scream in agony and look down at the sight of her front side burned all the way through to some of her organs. It was a military flame thrower, and because she had taken her time in deciding how she was going to be killed, he decided to take some of Her time, too; he decided to prolong her agony to a high degree (in both senses of the term) much like how the witches once had been; nearly identically to how Her kind used to burn His.
"That woman is a Christian," he spoke as calmly as ever, now to Sarah. "Her kind hunted, trapped, blackmailed, tortured, murdered, and nearly exterminated my kind, as well as countless other races, communities, and civilizations for milLENNIA. We will likely never know the full extent to which they committed genocide on a regular basis. They covered up and erased untold amounts of history. Humanity could be millions of years old, but thanks to her religious sect of monsters, all we know of is a few thousand years, and Inisfree has had to rediscover and reinvent EVERYTHING." As he said this, her screaming peaked and she lost consciousness, along with a huge amount of her blood which hadn't been charred solid.
He looked at the darker-skinned woman; one of the only two left in tact on the targeting wall.
"My purpose in showing you this, Sarah, is so you will see that I am capable of absoluley anything it may take to send one very clear message to the monsters of the Outlands; Inisfree is in charge now, and you'd better never piss us off again. I will do far, far worse than the Christians ever did --if that's what it takes to stop them from harassing and hurting my loved ones."
The darker-skinned woman cried out a plea to be killed quickly.
The King answered with another wolfish grin, "Your kind always ignored my pleas, even when I spent YEARS filing paperwork to make them official and bend over backward to follow all your rules. It turned out your kind was always just tricking me, stringing me along to suffer more and more and more. Request denied, demon whore."
He picked up a weapon that was Anything but quick, aimed, squeezed the trigger, and the darker-skinned woman threw her head back so quickly that she almost knocked herself unconscious --and Would have, had it not been for the collar and handcuffs and her own wrists softening the impact against the wall behind her. She was overcome with searing pain as nanobots (microscopic robots on the nanometric scale) penetrated her body in a modified shotgun blast, leaving a hundred pinprick-sized holes all over her breasts and belly. Starting to swim through her blood vessels, they began to target her nerve endings and scurry along them, causing her the maximum amount of pain that it was possible for her brain to process before she blacked out.
"I spent YEARS paralyzed in fear, feeling like my brain was fracturing and would soon liquefy inside my own skull. The poison they pushed on me, claiming it was medicine, caused heart problems and countless other terrifying side effects, permanently damaging many of my best friends, all of whom were heroes. Thousands of them committed suicide, the 'medicine' and other betrayals fucked them up that badly. Now it is Her turn."
He set down the nanobots rifle and for the first time turned his gaze down toward Sarah. "The bravest, most selfless souls who ever walked this Earth were systematically tortured by monsters such as those you see shackled to this firing range's targeting wall before you. We developed mind-reading technology to determine which of them were the real culprits --and why. Now that we have confirmed our findings, they are being hunted down as the vicious war criminals they are. It doesn't matter if they are men, women, or anything else; war crimes are war crimes, and slain heroes must be avenged."
He squatted down, his face a foot from Sarah's. "If we hadn't evacuated you, Sarah, and those with good hearts and minds Like you, you, too, would all have been targeted and suffered the same fate as my brothers-in-arms, and I could not let that pass. We secretly built up Inisfree here near the South Pole, mustered our forces, and then blitzkrieged these monsters to ensure we got ALL of you good girls out before it was too late."
He put a warm, steady hand over her shoulder, looking her purposefully in her eyes. "I do not question why I am attracted to true beauties. It is foolhardy to analyze why we love what we love. All I do is protect what I love, and my gut has never been wrong. When I sense someone is an evildoer out to do nothing but harm and ruin beauty, I rush in on it and kill. I will Never let what happened to my brothers-in-arms and lost Outland lovers happen to You, Sarah. You will Always be safe now that Inisfree has the upper hand."
With that, he took his hand from her shoulder, rose to his full height again, faced the final woman who was now ghost-white and still trembling with her back up against the targeting wall, and gave her an icy cold death stare that would have made the cruelest spoiled rich girl and even the most battle-hardened warrior gulp and doubt all their tricks.
"I could release you to tell others of your kind what transpired here; to warn them, ..." he paused, starting to grin wolfishly again, his dark brown eyes never moving away from the woman's own, giving her a moment of false hope to latch on to, making her torment and execution that much more horrible on purpose, "...but you would either forget, like the retards your kind always are, or go into denial or tell bold-faced, completely illogical and transparent lies, further confusing and misdirecting everyone, as your kind is as incapable of honesty as they are of all goodness."
He reached down to pick up a weapon, letting her eyes dart to it to see if it was one of the ones already used on her fellow prisoners who had all been destroyed at both of her sides. She would try to identify it, her mind wanting for whatever reason to know what fate was right about to befall her, ...but he faked her out, first reaching for one of the weapons she would know, ...then quickly moving his hand over to pick up the unknown one which had yet to be fired in her view.
He raised it, rested its back against his shoulder, aimed, started to squeeze the trigger, then relaxed and lowered it.
The woman almost fainted, she was so relieved. She looked at the floor in shock, almost blankly, then back up at him, wondering if she might now, for some reason, be freed after a mere mindfucking to the most extreme extent. No.
The Governor walked around the table, across the gray floor of the indoor firing range, and right up until he stopped a couple feet in front of her.
"This weapon would have been quick, compared to my latest epiphany."
He let her brow furrow in wonder as her mind raced to determine his meaning and anticipate his next move, as if doing those things might somehow better her odds or lessen the inevitable.
Emotionlessly, he began to beat her shackled arms and legs with the buttstock of the weapon, bruising and cutting them repeatedly until they began to give way, crack, and finally break.
"This if for all my friends who you used the corrupt pharmaceutical companies and courts to emotionally, physically, legally, and socially torture to death for YEARS until there was nothing left of them. The rest of your kind will be tortured ten times as long in the bowels of my impregnable prison here, and your kind, like all those You eradicated and covered up, will be just as forgotten. In time, our world will be reclaimed, and will heal and return to good, becoming populated only by those whose hearts are as light as a feather, ...but for Now, ..." he grinned wolfishly one last time, sending shivers up and down her spine as she hung in searing pain by broken arms, barely supported by broken legs, "for Now... we will just have to make due to with enduring your ugly faces as we crush them once and for all."
He made as if to buttstroke her in the center of her face, causing her to yank her head back in anticipation, smashing her wrists against the metal loop of her collar plate on the gray wall behind her, and this hurt her broken arms even further, and she finally blacked out from the surging pain of it all.
"You're not taking the easy way out, monster. MY people were never allowed to." He placed the muzzle of the weapon to her belly where her liver was, fired a single normal round into and through it, and walked away from her as the black blood began to pour out of the hole and run down her right, broken leg. The report of the gunshot had woken her up, along with the stinging smack of the bullet's impact and tearing path through her helpless body. The damage was fatal, and it was a wound designed to keep her conscious until she bled out ten minutes later. Other than drowning and what happened in Auschwitz, it was one of the worst possible ways to go... although there was also death by glass marble-filled Claymore anti-personnel mines, Vietnamese torture methods, impregnation with Chestbursters, and a few other ones he would likely subject the other war criminals to later on.
Auz walked back to the table and snapped his fingers at Sarah; it was time for her to pick up the weapons (none of which could be fired anymore), and heel her Master as he led her back to their respective compartments so she could hand them off, one by one, back to the animatronic manikins which had retrieved them from their assigned wall slots for her to carry.
Meanwhile, behind them, the 'smart'-surfaces of the targeting wall and firing range's floor which touched it... had started to slowly break down all of the seven executed women's corpses on the subatomic level, converting them into slush-matter to be channeled deeper into the city for use as fuel later on. Their souls had been immediately captured using Ghostbusters technology, like catching flies on spools of stickypaper, and would be channeled into special containment units which would keep them, too, in the city's Subterranean Prison. Even their souls would be incarcerated. Inisfree wouldn't even allow them to be reincarnated. Their days of unchecked evil acts were over.
Sarah wore her clothing sexily, thus she earned the right to Have and Keep some of the articles she had demonstrated an innate sexiness in donning and sporting. Slave girls; kajirae, are sometimes permitted a rep-cloth tunic for work, though they are generally required to remain nude when in Inisfree, and are sometimes permitted a single strip of diaphanous silk, like a scarf or sash, used to cover one breast and a narrow band of flesh around the hips, but not concealing the nipples, ass, or pussy in the slightest. Depending on her master's mood, Sarah would keep, reposition, or discard such articles of kajira livery. At the moment, she had been directed to wear a strip of diaphanous silk, granted enough slack to decide which one or two of her bodyparts she would wrap the translucent, soft fabric around.
Her master, the King of Inisfree, strode regally a few paces ahead of her, trusting her by now to keep up no matter what trials and punishments, or beasts and monsters, she might see during this, her indoctrination into and all across his kingdom, its capital Inisfree. He never gave her much notice, but that was partially because he knew he could count on her to bring her A-game no matter what she was faced and challenged with, and, of course, because she was still being tested, pushed, and molded into the best girl she could be. Stopping abruptly, though he always did that gracefully, he spun about and faced his little gem from the Outlands, his dark brown eyes looking down, in a piercing yet somehow also gentle way, into Sarah's own. He loved it when she stopped short, quickly catching her balance before she bumped into him, and how wide her eyes went, hoping she hadn't made a mistake and offended him. He loved this not only because it was sexy when a girl such as her did these things, and not only because it showed how alert, responsive, and sometimes afraid of him she was, but also because he knew, as per the confession she had blurted out before, that she did these things, more than anything, because she was in love with him, unable to bear the thought of distancing, much less losing, him.
His strong hand took Sarah by her upper arm and yanked her to him, pressing her breasts to his chest, causing her strip of diaphanous silk to shift a bit across her nipple it covered; a brief caress amidst the crashing of his unstoppable grip and repositioning of her much smaller bodymass. The King wondered if this would trigger her memories of their first flight up into the stormclouds of Inisfree, for it was in this way that he had brought her up close to him, followed by an immediate and rapid take-off up into the sky, which he now repeated. Sarah's bare little feet left the ground, hanging between her master, the king's, own.
Auz, the King, was a very sharp man; he knew what a girl like Sarah would be thinking and hoping for, and that she was equally perceptive; that they didn't often need words, understanding and forecasting one another so accurately. Sarah would be shaken to her core by the harsh and brutal, sometimes fatal sentencing and gladiatorial punishments the enemies of Inisfree, the elves, and all other life on Earth were now forced to experience as part of their karmic payback. She would feel compelled for all her days, for as long as it took, to soothe her master; her king, until he no longer felt the need to inflict such countermeasures against the reckless polluters collectively known as Man. Somehow, some way, and at great risk to her own wellbeing, she would push for these changes, and he knew that she knew that they would eventually work; that Sarah had been chosen from all the billions of Outlanders for just such a reason; one day, against all the odds, Sarah would prove to this man who now led armies and armadas of trillions, that there were, here and there, some humans who had hearts of gold and could be entrusted with surviving their cocky, self-righteous, racist, delusional, violently insecure, mass-murdering ancestors.
The Inisfreean skies were lit up with flickers and flashes of spidery lightning bolts arcing laterally amongst the underbellies of the local cloud cover. They were reflecting Auz's mood as he looked over his prized, top student from the Outlands, his emotions fluctuating back and forth between intense resentment for the species she belonged to... and intense attraction for all she had always been deep down inside. Could he trust her? Was all this effort; her months of extensive, exhaustive training and the expenditure of invaluable Inisfreean resources... really worth it at all? He thought so. He kept the little, helpless, teenage girl held closely, right up against his chest. Their hair flapped this way and that in the shifting breezes and gusts as they flew. If he let her slip, dropping her this high up, she would fall to what looked surely like her doom; Auz now held Sarah flying nude a mile or two above his capital city's ground.
She might look up into his dark eyes, her bright and deliciously girly ones wet with cloud vapor and forming tears, pleading with him not to let her go; pleading with him to give her a chance and listen to her logic and humble requests. If he dropped her, he would be dropping her heart and destroying it long before her impact with the terrain destroyed the Rest of her.
Up into the clouds he took their flight, changing his trajectory with smooth banking and exhilarating accelerations. Sarah would have the ride of her life, and the most heavenly shower of all time, before their trajectory was through. With Mjolnir, his high-tech hammer, in his free hand, the King continued to use it to better direct their soaring, dipping, and diving until Sarah's nerves were calmed and her completely exposed skin soaking wet with rain droplets, leaving her mind focusing only on how cold she was, and how close she had to cling to her master in order to stay warm enough to remain conscious. She would not be permitted enough energy to be appalled or angry with him, as Outlanders tend to be whenever they see extreme retaliation, even if it is long overdue. Outlanders, after all, are bred and raised, brainwashed, to be slaves; submissive to the end, rising up against nothing. Violence always seems risky and wrong to them, and so those who teach them otherwise must go to great lengths to drive alternative wisdom home.
The same three dragons, giant, lengthy, girthy, and membranously winged, silently soared back into view on both sides of Sarah and the king who flew her. Again, they eyed her like a piece of meat, eventually dipping their car-sized heads, covered in scales, spikes, and fangs, in a bow of recognition to the man who'd built this epic sanctuary for them here. The king then said his only words during this flight with his living property, Sarah; "Slave girl candidate," (Sarah had not quite yet graduated) "reach out and pet one of the dragons." It was not a request. Any slave girl in the presence of this king had to be brave and have an instant, willing obedience to orders; loyalty and courage.
Her Graduation Ceremony:
Thousands of the girls, 'sisters in training', who had studied, trained, rehearsed, and tested with Sarah in Inisfree's kajirae candidate training program were now in block formations spread out evenly across the city's Welcoming Square; the place where it held some of its largest fanfares. A crowd of millions of Inisfreean citizens had gathered in the stands around this square's perimeter, many thousands of them watching from the seats of their convertibles, or atop their luxury motorcoaches. They stood, clapped, cheered, and whistled for the many girls now formed up before them, ready to receive their official graduation ceremony.
Like special warfare operators, it will take these girls at least three years of additional constant training and top performance in dangerous and complicated environments before they will earn their first true op; the right to fuck their king, master of masters. This is the special ops of sex now; the Olympics of lovemaking. Anyone shy of a bronze medal against the greatest competitors in the entire human population won't even get an honorable mention. Some might not survive this process, but that makes it all the more thrilling for those who Do, giving them that rarest of senses of accomplishment; these girls will cry tears of joy when the king finally places, like an E.G.A. in a Marine Corps Recruit Depot graduate's hand, the diaphanous strip of slave-girl silk, that will be the only thing they ever wear after that point --along with, of course, the metal collar bearing his name written in the secret Inisfreean language; the sigil of his city, ...in their hands.
Sarah, however, is an exception to this rule; she won't have to wait quite that long. And today, while all her sisters in training are given the collars they at last earned, everyone bearing witness will find out why.
One by one, each girl, now able to call herself a true kajira, is presented, by the Inisfreean girls, each a Master Female, who served as her Drill Instructors here in Inisfree, the iron slave collar she will wear for the rest of her days as a female pleasure slave. She will never be able to take it off. It will become a part of her identity --and of her very soul. The better students who graduated in the top percentile of their class stood separately from these block formations; out in front of and centered on them (one girl centered in front of several dozen; one girl in front of each block formation), receiving their collars last; for special recognition of distinguished academic success. After each girl had her instructors lock her collar around her neck and hug her warmly, happy tears in their eyes, the ceremony continued. Every iron collar bore the sign of the city, and in one day's time, that same mark would be branded into the flesh of each of these girls' upper, inner, right thighs. Later on, each girl in her own time and way, would have a chance at earning the right to have her own piece of slave silk; the one article of clothing she could keep and call her own.
Sarah Conrad, all by herself, stood out in front of them all, centered on the middle of the entire gathering of block formations, left there until the very end of the ceremony to wonder what form of recognition she had earned for her exceptional distinction.
Her Permanent Collar:
*When Sarah is collared, she has already earned her place as the King's First Girl, and so it is that her collar is not a metal one like all the other girls, though those metal collars of theirs are still unbreakable ones of Inisfreean engineering brilliance.
The King stood before her, flanked by his two top-ranking, Inisfreean-born daughters; the mindblowingly beautiful Nyria Serra and Amber Heard (perfected variants of two Outlander base-models whom he had seen in his many travels). Nyria at his right... took Sarah's left hand between her own two, warmly, lovingly, approvingly holding it there and hugging it tightly and excitedly in that way. On his left, Amber took Sarah's Right hand and did the same. Their creator, governor of their immortal city, founder of their entire realm, father of their entire race, and master of a hundred trades, techniques, and disciplines, was holding what looked like a simple, wooden, darkly varnished, well-smoothed and polished box. It was just large enough to hold, perhaps, half a set of fine silverware. He let Sarah wonder what was in it, making her graduation and promotion ceremony (from liberated Outlander fool... to kajira candidate of Inisfree... to First Girl; Kajira 1) take Extra long; just to fuck with her, his prized little woman in the making, somewhat more than all his other new slaves.
Sarah had to remain at the military position of attention, with the exception of having her hands being warmly, tightly hugged between those of her God-king's top two daughters, each of whom commanded legions upon legions of interstellar and interdimensional Space war fleets Full of other Inisfreean Master Females. It was a very noteworthy event, and they were impressing this upon Sarah and all those thousands of other graduating kajirae standing in block formations all around her.
"Sarah Conrad of the Outlands," the King rumbled in a voice which was both gentle and loud enough for all of the nearly 3,000 graduating girls and Inisfreean Master Females to hear on that parade deck of a Welcoming Lot of theirs. He paused for effect, letting Sarah finally see his eyes start to smile in deep respect and appreciation to her for all she had adapted to and done. "I hereby pronounce you a graduate of Inisfree's ultra-exclusive, pleasure slave girls training program." He slowly opened the lid of the simple, dark, wooden box he held at her breasts' level with one of his strong forearms directly beneath it.
The lid yawned up and open, arcing back out of the way, revealing the contents to her eyes, practically Tugging on them to look down and directly into it, testing her military bearing and general self control.
Sarah, for the first time in her life, was now formally addressed, her Inisfreean masters telling her more about the meanings and origins of her first and surnames. "Sarah Conrad; Sarah, meaning "rabih's girl", "princess", "essence", "pure", "happy", "lady", and "princess of the multitude". "Rabih", an Arabic given name meaning "Spring". Conrad, derived from the Germanic elements kuoni; "brave", and rad; "counsel", meaning "honest advisor, brave and wise", in Teutonic meaning "bold speech", and in American meaning "bold counsel". Sarah Conrad, whose name means pure, happy, girl of Spring, princess of the multitude, and honest advisor, brave, bold and wise, we hereby formally recognize you as a literal princess of our multitude; as the most distinguished kajira of our time."
A third member of the Master Females --this one, one of the instructors who had been in close supervision of Sarah and her whole class in the Receiving Facility every step of the way these past two Inisfreean months-- stepped up to Sarah's left side; right in the two feet of space between Sarah and the three Inisfreean commanders (the King and his two top-ranking daughters) standing in a row right in front of her. It was Ana, the Inisfreean (perfected) clone of a tanned, mocha-skinned supermodel with stunning blue-gray eyes who was a ruthless taskmaster to Sarah and her class in training... but was now radiating such an incredible amount of love and trust for her that she was practically glowing.
Remaining in front of and facing her, her king had a knowing look in his eyes, almost a twinkle, and a grin playing at the corners of his lips, giving rise to the sides of his long mustache and the start of his beard. His voice momentarily quieted to a rumble only she and the three Inisfreean girls standing around her could hear. "Sarah, ..through the eyes of my children, I saw everything you did; ...every beautiful decoration you arranged in every single room you were assigned to. You are an absolutely gifted artist and lover, Sarah, and it is my great honor and privilege to bestow upon you this rarest and brightest of kajira symbols."
Ana took what was clearly a custom slave collar out of the wooden box lined with a deep, dark, indigo velvet of some sort which almost looked like a textured fabric made of ultraviolet light condensed to the point of being a solid (Inisfreeans loved showing off their various technological marvels in the form of luxury items and gifts). All around them there was a silence in the crowd, and hushed gasping as everyone's eyes went wide.
Sarah would only be able to make out through her peripheral vision that the collar, just a foot too low from her eye level to be fully recognizable and in focus, was not the same dark metal that all the other slave-girl collars were. This one was like glass. The King's eyes remained looking serenely and deeply into Sarah's own, wondering if she would lose herself and dare a curious, hungry glance down at the collar that was practically rising up right in front of her face.
It finally came into view, several seconds after the King's latest words. The collar sparkled like the Sun, and was almost painful to behold; nearly blinding in how brightly it twinkled and cast rainbows all about its surface and just as brightly onto the faces of all around. Sarah Conrad's slave collar was made of pure diamond. It was a Single diamond; the Inisfreeans had carved it from a crystal clear rock bigger than the size of a basketball, cutting it to have more than 10,000 faces on the outside, and an inside curve so smooth that it would never irritate her neck's soft skin at all. The collar was cut by supercomputers; the Inisfreean girls, and its cuts and faces were precise down to single planes of molecules. Its hinges were made of electrum; an ancient alloy of gold and silver which shined and looked like both, yet which the Inisfreeans had made even stronger than the diamond semi-circles it was seamlessly fused and bolted to. On its back, where its two pieces met to lock, was inscribed in the script of the Inisfreean language, appearing like italicized cursive lettering of a blending of Elvish and Sanskrit, a series of words which translated, Nyria whispered into Sarah's mind, "I, Sarah Conrad, am King Auzdein von Himmler's First Girl." For the period of this sentence, also inscribed was the sign of their city; the sigil of Inisfree.
Ana, Sarah's equivalent of a Drill Instructor, opened the diamond-and-electrum collar right in front of Sarah's eyes, casting tens of thousands of little, very bright rainbows darting sideways across her face and all the faces of the four Inisfreeans who still stood before her.
"Additionally," the King rumbled, still with a voice as smooth as honey and molasses, yet now, once again, with the volume of a casually roaring lion for the whole parade deck to hear, "I pronounce you First Girl; Kajira 1; the best performing girl from all slave girl candidates the World Over; the one kajira here deemed so perfect that she will remain at my side as my Personal pleasure slave... for eternity."
Ana moved the diamond-and-electrum collar down under Sarah's chin and closed it around her neck, pausing for another few seconds before letting Sarah feel the thrill of it being locked shut at the back of her neck. It clicked into place with a sound unlike any metal Sarah had ever heard; with a lock so strong that the impact of a meteorite wouldn't break it. No slave girl could free herself from an iron collar, and this diamond collar of Sarah's was more than twice as hard and unbreakable as that. Somehow... its weight was almost nothing. Inisfreean engineering was quite clever these days.
"Your slave collar's diamond is one of those which rain down upon Saturn," he interjected to help her better understand the magnitude of the elite slave collar he was awarding her hard work and perfect heart with, "and the silver in its electrum hinges comes from the Moon," he paused for another second as Ana finished adjusting it into centered position around Sarah's neck, "while the gold in that electrum is taken from inside the Sun."
Larger, heavier, stronger, rarer, more expensive, and more intricately carved than all the diamond rings in the history of mankind, Sarah Conrad's slave collar also meant so much more. It was something that had to be earned, could never be given or forged, and could never be taken away. While Inisfreeans scoffed at Outlanders who wore wedding rings, little symbols symbolizing very little, they gazed in awe and indescribable feelings at Sarah's special, custom, unheard-of slave collar, knowing that no other slave girl would Ever earn such a prize, reward, award, and honor. Sarah had outclassed them all, and now she had a collar to reflect that.
"Wear this ring; this collar, with the utmost pride, ...for you have more than earned it, ...and there will be much more to follow. Of that, I am sure."
He then paused for a few seconds, letting it all sink in, hopefully hitting the young Outlander girl like a tidal wave of pride and joy.
"Others will come After you, Sarah Conrad," the King rumbled to her, now in a slightly softer and quieter voice that would mostly just be heard by Sarah and the three Inisfreean daughters standing in front of her. "Many billions upon billions, eventually, will try out to be sexy slave girls here..." He slowly closed the dark-indigo velvet-lined, wooden box's lid shut at her breasts' level. "But you, Sarah, came first, and when it was toughest, and all this completely new and alien to everyone on your world. You rose up when it was dangerous and wholly pioneering work. You, Sarah, ..." he handed off the box to Ana, who was now gulping and tearing up as she watched the two of them eyelocking right in front of her, "are my First Girl."
With that, he took Sarah's cheeks and jawline in his powerful hands, planting a kiss on her that would make any girl melt, swoon, cream herself and faint, and as he kissed her, taking two full minutes before pausing so that either of them could fully breathe, Nyria and Amber continued to hug Sarah's hands within their sandwiched own.
When he had finished giving her that single kiss, in front of all those millions formed up and gathered around her, the whole host of Inisfree bearing witness to their public display of affection and love, he resumed his regal posture and taller stance in front of her, resting his hands now on her hips as Nyria, Amber, and Ana took their turns cupping Sarah's cheeks and kissing her just as powerfully and recklessly as their father, the King, had. All of the irises of those girls' eyes, and their heads of hair, had begun involuntarily, slowly changing through every color visible to the human eye, and their various tans all seemed faintly aglow from deep within; they were all riding the same emotional high and rollercoaster that their King was, as they were all the same mind and spirit spread out across their many Inisfreean bodies. What the King felt, their hair, eyes, and skin colors reflected.
"Real halos are not above the head, but around the neck," Auz, their King, smiled with his eyes and lips as he rumbled those words down as warm breath flowing out across his officially appointed First Girl's kiss-wet lips; "it is the true kajirae collars which indicate angelhood. Always Has been." His eyes remained looking deeply down into Sarah's own.
"Congratulations, First Girl. You are now a permanent member of the family of Inisfree. Welcome to your new home," he rumbled, again smooth yet loud enough for all to hear.
The three trumpets, each held by one of the half-mile-tall, animatronic, nude female statues standing high into the sky from the inside edge of the Welcoming Square, all raised these musical instruments of theirs and blasted a loud and happy victory tune that sounded like the opening theme to the Olympic Games; John William's 'Summon the Heroes'.
Every one of the thousands of newly graduated kajirae and their Inisfreean Master Females, who had served as their Drill Instructors, were trembling, gulping, and helpless to stop the tears of pride streaming down their cheeks.
"Graduating charter class," the King smoothly yelled in his commanding voice and volume to them all --he looked left, ...then right, ...then back down into little Sarah's eyes, "...DISMISSED!"
All three thousand of them bellowed in perfect synchronicity, "Aye, Sir! Oo-RAH!", each of them then executing the proudest about-face of their now-immortal lives, and 'falling out' into a disintegrating formation of screaming, crying, whooping, cheering, high-fiving, hugging teenage girls Shivering with heavenly emotional overload and running around to throw their arms and legs around each of their Inisfreean instructors. The crowd erupted in cheer.
The Olympic Games music continued to play from the gigantic golden trumpets half a mile above them, and they were free for the rest of the day to do whatever they pleased, roaming about Inisfree and indulging in any or all of its otherworldly attractions and pleasures until their hearts' content.
"I am So very proud of you, my precious, wonderful little girl," the King took Sarah, freshly collared, into his large, muscular arms, hugging her tightly to him and kissing the top of her head as his blood-red cape billowed and quietly flapped in the warm Inisfreean breeze caressing its way past them.
A few of Sarah's classmates frolicked up and gave her firm smacks on her asscheeks as the King hugged her; loving, supportive, playful, Inisfreean versions of high-fives. "You deServe this, Sarah!" they called to her as they held hands and skipped away, blowing kisses over their shoulders to her before joining up with some of the other girls to catch a ride on the Glowing Art Highway over the hill to Inisfree's 3-miles-wide, crystal-clear lake and white-sands beach. "We Love youuu!"
The King continued to squeeze her tightly in his arms, never wanting to let her go. "I never thought the Outlands would produce for us a Single worthy girl," he chuckled, letting her feel it giving his washboard abs a few tenses away from her bare belly, "but then, somehow, we found your entire class here... and You; ...the most ideal slave girl we could have ever hoped for."
He gave her a tighter squeeze for another second, adding "I couldn't have asked for a better slave girl to keep at my side."
The King let his arms loosen from around her, leaving one of his hands on her right shoulder as his left hand slid all the way down her arm to take her tiny hand inside his own. "Now Tell me, slave girl," he said that term with beaming affection for her now; "this is Your special day. Where do you want to go to celebrate... and what do you want to Do?"
Showing Her to Her New Room:
As the evening of Sarah's graduation arrived, her master, the king of the whole Inisfreean realm himself, grinned, his eyes twinkling, as he revealed to her that he had a second graduation gift to present to her. One of his stretch limousines pulled up nearby them, a pair of nude Master Females gracefully stepped out and opened Sarah's door for her, and the king motioned for her to step inside first. Inside the passenger compartment at the rear of the limo was a single chair-and-a-half like a throne built into the vehicle as its back seat, a bit narrower than a set of three seats like the couch most vehicles would have in its place. It was the only place to sit, and the king sat down on it, scooping up his First Girl and sitting her down with her legs perpendicular across his lap. His arms would be her seatbelt. The two Master Females smiled excitedly in to her, waving as they quietly closed the door. Sarah was now sharing the seat of the royal limo reserved just for the king. She would sit on the floor at his feet in this limo's compartment on future rides, but today was her day, and she was, in these moments, royalty in his eyes.
Their Master Female chauffeur drove them up Kings Drive to the front doors of their king's private mansion high up on their city's central and largest, tallest mountain. Another pair of Master Females opened the door for Sarah, gently taking her hand to politely help her out of the royal limousine, its napkin-sized Inisfreean flags casually swaying above its hood's front corners, and the towering front double-doors of the mansion were opened for their approach; Sarah led by her master, the king, arm in arm. The Inisfreean Secret Service girls played hostess, warmly greeting the First Girl and their king as he paraded her at a comfortable strolling pace up the steps and into the foyer, giving little Sarah a chance to look up at the giant chandelier of basketball-sized gemstones hanging from its fixture some 20 stories above the polished tile floor they strode in upon.
Up they walked, side by side, arm in arm, over the proud and wide, white and gold, red carpet complemented steps of the nearest of the two curving staircases which took the two of them up to the foyer balcony ten stories above the ground floor's shining tiles, now, from their new vantage, reflecting the entire chandelier and all its countless, basketball-sized jewels. "Right this way, First Girl, more Inisfreean Secret Service ladies, all nude Master Females, gracefully bowed low and stepped back out of Sarah's way, their hands and arms flowing out and forward in the direction their king was parading her through his private mansion for all to see and marvel at.
Into and straight through one of the mansion's 10-stories-tall hallways they walked, seeing the little babbling brook down one foot below its floor's transparent middle strip, the king's arm never leaving Sarah's own, and they came to one of the massive AIOWs, walking out onto its white and gold lift panel, which expedited their ascent another 10 stories up into the mansion's third level. Guiding Sarah forward off the smoothly halting lift surface and back out into another 10-stories-tall hallway, he walked with her around a corner and forward through the remainder of that towering hallway until they had come up to a double-door whose doors' top, central points formed the middle of an arch 25 feet above where they stood. Another pair of his Inisfreean Secret Service ladies, who maintained their guard posts on either side of this double-door, smiled warmly to Sarah as they opened the 25-foot-tall doors for her, parting them open before her, and revealing a chamber that was more like a small stadium than a girl's room.
"This used to be a guest suite, but I have decided that it is your room for so long as you wish it to be; All yours. Congratulations, Sarah. You've earned it. ...And yes, I know you love me as I love you, and you will want to sleep with me in my room in this home of ours, and you will; I wouldn't have it any other way, but you also need and deserve your own room to call your own and be able to retreat to whenever the mood and spirit calls."
After helping her get settled in, he had his Inisfreean girls summon Sarah's favorite kajirae training program classmates to join her for a room-warming (like a house-warming) first-night sleepover, then, bright and early the next day, he had breakfast with her on her vast patio balcony, which was big enough to have two full-sized houses on it with yards and room to spare, and then scooped her up, her favorite classmates laughing and cheering behind them, and flew with her in his arms all the way down over that balcony's ledge, over his swimming pools, over the start of the waterfall pouring out over the cliffs, down more than a mile to the beach, and let her ease her bare feet down into the warm, moist, white sands of Inisfree's largest beach.
Walking with her hand hugged in his, he led his best girl out onto one of the beach's many luxurious piers, taking her out hundreds of feet onto the shallow, crystal clear waters where a big bathtub full to the brim, its surface sprinkled with a hundred flower petals, awaited them. With a thatch roof and diaphanous curtains tied back against its four posts, it was a 360° view and total breezeway, complete with a little spillway moat full of smooth pebbles, and rolled bath towels on a collapsible bamboo stool by its side.
Giving her a hand to steady herself by, he bid her step in first, then followed her, and was making smooth, deep love to her within seconds.
Just before the sunset ended, he came in her, full force, hugged her tightly within his powerful arms, got every last drop out of him and into her, and then kept her snug within that strong hug of his so he could feel all of her as they watched the sunset finish, leaving the vibrant underbellies of the sunkissed clouds dimming into the onset of the evening and the stars and aurora curls it had started to reveal.
"I love you very much, Sarah," the King rumbled to her, still holding her snug in position on his lap, his cock still pulsing all the way up inside her sex to half the beat of his heart. He shifted his grips on and around her to better feel and hold her as close to him as possible, finally feeling able to relax and rest again. The Inisfreean breeze played with the brunette strands of their rich manes of hair; their natural capes and prides.
One of the other kajira, who had also graduated and now formally served the King as a fully trained girl, politely and gracefully approached the side of their tub on the end of that luxurious pier out over their city's main lake, her eyes bright with pride and love, and softly asked Sarah if she could be of service to her; "First Girl, may I bring you anything to drink?"
The King moved one of his hands away from Sarah's wet flesh long enough to receive the other slave girl's hand and bring it to his lips for an appreciative few kisses across its back and knuckles, then across the girl's fingertips; one of the ways the Inisfreeans say 'thank you' to those they love. The girl froze in place, blushing, shivering with arousal at his touch, and made herself resist the urge to look away, having learned in her kajira training that her King preferred his kajirae to look him in the eyes, albeit submissively.
[*Then Sarah has her second night in her new room; her first night alone there. All to herself, her emotions finally catch up with her, along with her memories from the time leading up to the terraforming and disintegrations, and she snaps when Auz returns the next morning to check on her.]
Kajira 1, but still a Kajira:
As top slave across the whole Inisfreean realm, which extended deep into the city's core into its own star system in a specially-made 'pocket-dimension', and all the way out into many regions of the Deep Space and multiple dimensions of the 'stack' of Universes known as the Megaverse or Multiverse, colloquially as just 'the Verse'; wherever the Inisfreean Space Fleets might be, Sarah Conrad had now earned a lifestyle on par with most goddesses. Still a slave, though one reserved predominantly for pleasure, she had her daily and nightly chores to tend to; some she could delegate to lesser slave girls, some she was required to complete, herself. Her King, Lord Himmler, God of the Inisfreeans, kept her busy, active, and fit. There were times she had to carry camping supplies for him, or primitive weapons and shields for the girls engaged in gladiatorial battling in the Subterranean Vatican, or even piles of firewood which she had also had to find and chop, but whenever she pushed through her soreness and fatigue, she got to kneel in the pleasure slave position at his feet and enjoy, from his hands, much of the finest feasting and buffets the Verse had ever seen.
About once a month, she was made to suffer the sting of the whip, and sometimes she was strung up in ropes and cuffs, slapped and smacked profusely, and left with the dome tip of a dildo just barely within reach of her pussy, but never enough for her to be able to get it in. She would be abandoned to sleep alone like this, unable to adjust her position in the slightest, leaving her sexually frustrated to the point of madness and frenzy by the Antarctic morning's light; just the way he wanted her when she was brought, gagged and chained, to his bedroom for his morning entertainment. "Dance for me, slave," he'd smoothly rumbled to her, letting her see how hot she was in his eyes; how quickly she made his cock stir and stiffen now. Her frustration made her dances all the wilder, and he took her with a growing ferocity every time he had her fetched for him, throwing her aside once he'd filled her, finally allowing her to cum, more often than not, when she pleased. She had been taught how to control it; herself; her orgasms, so now she wasn't required to as frequently.
"I know you like being raped, Sarah," he one evening said to her, looking over his shoulder to where she was heeling him. "You have proven a good, worthy slave. Tell me..." he turned to face her, looking over all her beauties, "What is your deepest, darkest, wildest rape fantasy? It is this day that I will have you raped that way until you are satisfied and ready for your next level of slavery and work." He knew, ever since that first day when she so readily presented herself and her inner workings to him, that he could count on her innate boldness to make him smile and enhance Inisfree with her fiery sexuality. The Godking waited for her reply.
It was time to show Sarah the next well-kept secret of the Inisfreeans. As First Girl, she had earned the right to enjoy more of the luxuries and leniencies of Inisfreean high society, but it was because she was even more than First Girl; she was the heart slave of the leader of all the Inisfreeans, that they had begun to feel it prudent to share with her as much about their inner workings as she had shown them about hers. Her pure love, when paired with her incredible kajira work ethic, had destined her for this. Auz, as he now allowed Sarah to call him when they were alone together, took Sarah's hand and led her outside her palatial guest suite, now her permanent room she could have all to herself when she liked, and stood with her out near the stone railing of her vast, private, outdoor balcony patio overlooking the perfectly manicured side and front lawns of his personal mansion.
He gently turned her to stand before him, raising her chin that she look up into his eyes, and sealed his lips with hers, kissing her long and deeply, his hands first resting around her hips, then moving up to around her cheeks and jawline, holding her steady so that he could massage her tongue more with his own. A dozen kisses of just her lips later, and, for now, he was satisfied with enjoying her in this way. "I love you, Sarah," he exhaled his low whisper into those luscious, pouting lips of hers. Sliding the only strip of diaphanous silk off her shoulder, he let her entire garment; the simple, one-piece, translucent, ever revealing article of clothing that the best pleasure slave girls earn the right to sometimes wear, ...fall down around her stunningly sculpted hourglass of a figure, leaving her nude before him. He, her king and master, and the man who possessed her heart --in more ways than one, looked over his favorite girl, prize and treasure of his kingdom; she, his First Girl.
"I have seen you furious, frustrated, and dejected in the Outlands," he began, his voice now a quiet rumble, his hands sliding down and in around her asscheeks to cup and feel them next. His eyes never left hers; she was to continue looking up into them for him. "I have seen you stressed, hurried, and exhausted in kajirae training." His member began to stir and elongate, growing girthier right in front of her pussy.
Her only clothing; that little strip of diaphanous silk she wore like a sash or scarf trying to be a dress, remained in a pile of curving folds around her feet and ankles.
"I have seen you empty your stomach at my side, trembling as an overloaded empath, horror stricken by the measures our people have been forced to resort to in order to stop the uncountable evils of the humans." He looked down to her lips for a moment, wanting to taste and feel them again, which he did.
"I have seen you in tears and fits of rage, daringly striking at me at the risk of your own life." He let a tingle of resurfacing fear perhaps occur in her core and across her countenance, finding even That sexy about her.
"I have seen you writhing in uncontrollable orgasms, clenching against me in your need, yielding to me time and time again, and glowing as you stretched in success thereafter." He finally smiled, remembering many of those wonderful, literally heavenly times.
"You have seen Me in all my modes of emotion, too." He let her think about this, remembering the times she had witnessed him proud and demanding, nostalgic and sad, angry and merciless, surprised and silent, calm and statuesque.
"We have seen so very much of each other, and all I ever want is to see more and more." Now he let her, the empath that she was, feel the still budding love between them, and how they mutually understood and made allowances for one another; she, a human, seeming strange to him at times, and he, an Inisfreean, no doubt also seeming alarming at times to Her.
"It is time I show you yet another elusive side of me; of this city which IS me." He sampled her lips a few more times; slow, tender, pulling, focused kisses lingering across their whole surfaces, his relaxed smile clearly very, very pleased with them and her.
"Look..." he finally moved his eyes away from her fantastically beautiful face, directing her eyes now away from his... and up into the Inisfreean sky above where they stood out on her great balcony...
It seemed the stars were slowly starting to move out from directly above in all directions, very, very slowly at first... and then with a slowly increasing speed. Then the blue of the sky gave way to amoebic violet and then black splotches which expanded into one another as the blue dropped down on all sides of the city, becoming its every horizon, just over the top edge of the city's massive perimeter wall, and then finally dropping all the way out of sight to give way to the expanding black of the sky that was a dome covering their whole realm.
Then, in the most disorienting spectacle imaginable, it seemed as if the whole of the heavens rotated 180°, and all the stars quickly arced up over the city and down toward one of its walls, moving out of view just as the blue of the sky once had. It was then revealed, as the whole planet Earth arced up into view in their place, that the entire city, Inisfree, had flown up into Outer Space, and was in high orbit over the little blue planet Sarah had been born upon. What's more, it had done this without a single engine or turbulence vibration at all; smooth as silk, quiet as a dream.
It was an unusual vantage point, though, and Earth would not have looked familiar at all, had it not been for the geography portion of her education, for the view was of the Earth's underside, showing only its southern hemisphere while Inisfree hovered in Space directly over its South Pole. Antarctica, the great white continent with its whip-like tail of an S-shaped peninsula, was centered in the middle of a wide blue border that was the Southern Ocean, and only the very bottom tips of South America, Africa, and New Zealand were visible on its edges where the curve of the globe was most pronounced, the atmospheric distortion making all three of those landmass hints appearing a hazy purple instead of green and brown. And as Inisfree, now flying silently in orbit over the Earth, observed their world rotating in equal silence a couple hundred miles beneath them, the extensive changes to the landmasses and outlines of the seas and oceans were now apparent from this steadily changing vantage point, for almost all of the changes had been made to the Northern hemisphere, completely beyond their line of sight from this orbit during their take-off, but now, bit by bit, rotating into view.
Earth's coastlines had dramatically changed, the level of the oceans clearly having risen. The tiny dots of volcanoes now peppered most fault lines. Yellowstone, once a national park covered in trees, was the smoking, belching, state-sized caldera of the supervolcano it had always been destined to be. The sulfuric, sterile ash and lava boulders rising up and arcing out from its towering plume cast an eerie shadow over half of the adjacent state, and a slowly creeping shroud of dark gray soot out over several more. Deserts, such as the Sahara and Gobi, and even the Middle East, were now swamps and marshes. All the mountain ranges Sarah had learned about in middle and high school, once stretching across entire or even multiple continents, had been reduced to crumbling plateaus. Canada looked like a sandy desert in many provinces. Half of South America, half of Europe, half of Russia, and half of Australia was underwater. Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Philippines were almost gone. The Seychelles, Maldives, and Hawaiian islands Were gone, as were the nation-sized ice sheets that once floated on top of the Ronne and Ross gulfs on either side of Antarctica. So much of Antarctica had been freed of its ice that a thick ring of its perimeter, from its new coastline dozens of miles inland, looked like a brown, earthy, rich soil; its once barren, frigid lands now exposed and supersaturated with the thawing, melting, rushing waters of shrinking ice domes and revealed, once-subglacial rivers as long and snaking as the Amazon. It was clear that in one or two generations, Antarctica would be covered in a dark green canopy of healthy trees. Then there was Africa, which had its Congo rainforest stripped away, leaving mostly dessert. Greenland, curiously, at least in terms of its shape, looked almost the same. It, too, had had its thick ice reduced to vanishing, though, its volcanoes erupting like Hawaii's once had. Even the Himalayas, once called the Roof of the World, was like the other mountain ranges; low plateaus, vastly more numerous and more massive lakes all across it, and many islands instead of mostly ridges and peaks. There were craters, too; almost everywhere Sarah looked out across the lands slowing rotating with the curve of the Earth far beneath them, craters the size of cities peppered and overlapped all the nations and states she'd learned about growing up. Either from nuclear weapons the Inisfreeans had overridden and turned back against the humans, or meteorites and comets intentionally crashed down upon the Earth, or, in some places, both. If anything had survived this sudden, unexpected war and terraforming, it could only have been due to the surgical precision and specific intent of the Inisfreeans who had triggered and managed it.
Another major change to the face of the Earth, it was now apparent, was the addition of a curiouly stationary weather pattern covering much of South America's reshaped tail, spreading out, almost the size of a large continent itself, to within a few hundred miles of of the southwest coast of Africa. Extending north from under it, following the southern Atlantic's underwater ridgeline to the equator, was a mountain range the size of Mexico... hovering over the surface of the ocean! It was a floating mountain range, its many sections, and some stand-alone (or float-alone) mountains, connected by what appeared to be whale-sized, vine-like tentacles; some new form of plant-life. The landforms and cloudforms in this south Atlantic region were striking additions to Earth, in deed; whole new realms, regions, and elements to discover and explore... for whomever might have been allowed to survive and return to them.
In the north Pacific, as Inisfree continued its orbit, the Earth still slowly turning far beneath it, it looked like there might be another, smaller, floating mountain range out there, too. A quarter of the northwestern Pacific, off the southern coast of what was left of Japan, looked like it was significantly changing, as well; much darker now, this Australia-sized ocean region was starting to look almost purple and gelatinous, though in a pure, clean way, all the trash of the Earth's oceans having now been removed and recycled. What on Earth Was it? It looked like an amoebic sea; ...a sea within an ocean...
The King, still standing tall at Sarah's side, his nearest hand once again warmly holding hers, let Sarah look out on all of this, perhaps remembering the fiery, destructive, chaotic views she had beheld while looking through the transparent, polarizing, window-like wall of the Inisfreean airship which had plucked her from her disintegrating Outlands town and rushed her across two hemispheres and over the Southern Ocean to dock in the giant hangars a mile beneath Inisfree. It had been clear, then, to what extent the Inisfreeans had decided to change things; globally. It was clearer now, the big picture, literally, coming into view for her. From where Sarah and her master, the king of Inisfree, stood, it was as if they were upside down, gravity having reversed itself to allow them to stick their feet to some ceiling of the gods so far out in Space and high above all they had ever known of their world. It was enough to make most newcomers lose their balance and fall over, trying in vain to set things right, their eyes unable to look away from all the ground and water surfaces now high over their heads. Inisfree, relatively speaking, seemed dislodged and upside down.
The terraforming was complete, Auz quietly rumbled to Sarah, letting her attention remain on their world now hundreds of miles away from them, its curve clearly visible in all directions, just above their city's perimeter wall. In a year or two, everything in the Outlands would be settled and calm again, tranquil and serene, magnificent and pristine. Billions of monsters posing as humans and other creatures had been rooted out, rounded up, and slain. Millions had been screened and processed. Hundreds of thousands had been approved for further processing, and just over 140,000 had made the final cut; approved as guests and kajirae candidates of Inisfree, while 6,000,000 had sailed for the only standing city in the Outlands; Nuuk of Greenland. All the human pollution had been swept away, converted into what was needed. The heroes of the Earth were now, for the most part, beginning their long hibernations; their black-ops teams having completed their final missions after generations of clandestine work. The quarantine of the Earth was now lifted (for the time being), and the many species and races erroneously thought to be mythological had begun to peek their heads back out of their centuries of hiding, now actively protected by Inisfree, which now stood as a new haven and world Congress for them all.
"Gaia is avenged, her fever broken by us, her immune system. The mindless, collective creature known as humanity has been vanquished, the innocence and potential of its individuals restored. And, just as thoroughly, the only remaining members of the caste of Warriors have been avenged. The heroes, mistreated, abandoned, and betrayed by their own nations; their citizens and leaders, have been avenged. Those who turned to the light; who did as I commanded, have now ascended to the new and permanent thrones of this world; Earth once again has true Kings."
The King stepped before little Sarah, a head shorter than him, squarely facing her again, and rested his warm, firm, loving hands around her upper arms where they began to curve up and over into the flesh of her shoulders. "Kajira Sarah," he didn't have to follow that with 'my love', for he knew she would sense it between the lines and ever so clearly indicated in his tone and eyes and all the rest of his body language, regal though it always was, "I want you to start making my private bed each night; the big one in the master bedroom. You are now First Girl; Kajira 1, and I want to see you waiting for me in my master suite when I get home from work. You have earned your place there; your clearance to come and go in that room as you need to. My Secret Service ladies already know --and will be looking forward to seeing you there more often." He brought her in, then, for a hug, and held her as if he couldn't get himself close enough to her, squeezing her in his arms like they had been apart, somehow, for decades. It was a long time before he eventually relaxed his hug and spoke to her again, having squeezed out all their troubles.
"You are more to me now than even a girl as treasured as an exquisitely trained kajira, Sarah... I have some things I must tend to for the next several hours. Go on," he smiled, looking down into her eyes; "make yourself useful throughout this private mansion of ours." He had just called his most exclusive mansion 'hers and his' instead of just 'his'! "There is always much to do up here, and the other girls will want to get to know you better."
And then he gave her the kiss of the Ages, reluctantly parted their lips, stepped back away from her, smiled as he let her see how much he needed to look her beauty over one more time, and moved on about his way, returning to the interior of her guest suite (now her permanent suite), to make his way back into the towering hallways of Their, not just His, massive fortress and palace of a mansion.
Sarah was free to remain standing there and gazing up at the view of the Earth dominating almost the entirety of the Inisfreean sky, its circular edge still hovering and slowly turning just barely over the top of Inisfree's perimeter wall.
Minutes later, an Inisfreean girl, a bit shorter than Sarah in height, with that signature, flawlessly formed hourglass of a body every Inisfreean-born had, her hairstyle a thick, full, cascading mop of natural, bouncy curls and slowly changing colors, the irises of her eyes also slowly changing colors, came and traced her fingertips down Sarah's arm; Inisfreeans always half-tickled, half-aroused each other and their guests and permanent residents in such ways when they wanted to request their attention. This Inisfreean girl then told Sarah that their king would be coming back home here in a little while, and that Sarah was to decorate the room a bit; to set its theme; its 'look and feel',
and to prepare a supper for him and herself. "No pressure, loved one," the Inisfreean girl softly told her; "this is not so much to see what you have learned during your kajira training, but to get to spend some more one-on-one time with the man who desires you and all you create."
Auz had changed his mind after walking away from Sarah, leaving her standing there on that balcony patio of hers; she wasn't just to make his bed and wait for him there each evening; she was now entrusted with not only decorating her Own suite in his mansion, but the master bedroom where He slept, as well. It was an unHeard-of honor. Sarah's gifts had Really turned heads. Her abilities had Really been noticed. The more he thought about them and her, the more he wanted to offer her chances to show off what she could do.
The Inisfreean girl lowered her head and eyelids in a slight bow to Sarah, sexily swaying back away from her, again leaving Sarah in privacy on her private balcony, that she might be free of distractions, finding it much easier now to form in her mind the visions and emotions of just what she wanted to design and do next.
The King of Inisfree had called his two favorite women to join him at their city's hotel designed specifically for amazing sleeping experiences. Ambi had recently returned from another long stay in her Outlands realm where she ruled over a nation of vampires. Sarah had recently graduated from months of demanding kajirae training. Ambi was the top vampire and woman in her realm. Sarah had graduated at the top of her class and was now the First Girl of Inisfree; its finest kajira and favorite play-thing of the king. They were two ladies set apart from all others, and both had had a long bout of grueling, taxing work. It was time they enjoyed a carefree, therapeutic, slumber party of a getaway to help sooth their nerves. The king, too, had been working hard as ever on his new, massive, and ever growing property, and so it was that they now came together here by the miles-long lake of Inisfree, greeting each other with spin-hugs in the ground-level lobby of another of the city's impressively tall and luxurious buildings.
Sarah, the king's best slave girl, and Ambrosia, his highest-ranking wife, followed him into the AIOW of the building, the lift of which sped them up to the floor which included their chosen suite, walking at his sides as he shows them a brief detour into another suite with a few white-skinned, young women all sleeping in coffins turned into comfy, sleeping-bag-like beds, ...except for one of the passed out women who was curled up in the fetal position against a wall in one corner of that room. She looked scared, though definitely unconscious, and her face was a bit scrunched up, appearing both sad and angry, her sleeping mind still racing through unpleasant memories of times past; times before she was shown the existence of Inisfree. They, Ambi and Sarah, then see him pick up that vampire woman and carry her in his arms to bed; one of the vacant, modified coffins, tuck her in, and kiss her hands and forehead goodnight. The woman's expression softened, her brow no longer furled and creased into a frown. Some of her fingers moved a little, opening and closing part way, as if to grasp whatever it was that had scooped her up and comforted her, treating her like a good, lovable person.
He then rumbled to his First Girl and top wife, "Her people have had a really difficult time in the Outlands. The demons called humans demonized their kind, and so abused and outcast them, confusing and shaming some, and so they came up with The Masquerade ...just to survive. This is why they; vampires, are almost always so shy and nervous, and needing of love and understanding now more than ever. We Inisfreeans, neo-nymphs, are the beings most naturally suited to offer them that love, safety, and reminders of the innocence of the vampire form. Just as it is illogical to assume all Africans are supposed to be slaves, it is wrong to assume vampires are cursed or damned."
His dark brown eyes regarded Ambi first, knowing she had had her own self doubt regarding this issue; the right or wrongness of being a vampire, even to the point of thinking herself not alive. Then he regarded Sarah, standing next to her, wondering how the little mortal girl might take the knowledge that she was in the presence of humans she had probably been brainwashed by the media of her youth to believe were mindless, demonic, blood-drinking murderers that few could best in strength, speed, or stealth; apex predators just a few feet away from her beating heart and aromatic carotid and jugular. Sarah hadn't had the exposure to civil vampires that her master, Auz, had, and she didn't know she was immortal now, like them; just that she had grown much healthier, stronger, more agile, and her senses more keenly aware of everything around her. She might still harbor dread about vampires and other intimidating beings.
"Inisfree is a nexus and haven for All our kinds," he softly rumbled, the three of them now standing by and watching the vampire woman eventually relax and and drift off into her kind's form of sleep.
He looked to Ambi and Sarah again, then back to the vampire now resting and heart-healing in bed. "...They need to hear the truth spoken; that they were Never the bad ones, and Certainly not demons. They are angels just like so many others... and Inisfree will always offer them a loving home."
Auz then scooped up Ambi in his right arm and Sarah in his left, and carried both of them out of that bedroom full of vampire women, through the hallway of their sky-high floor, and over the threshold into their own suite so high up in the needle-like structure of the skyscraper bed-&-breakfast (B&B or BB) known as The BB Spire. "You carried Me once," he rumbled, smiling to each of them. "Perhaps you knew..."
In some of his most emotionally painful, starving, uncertain days and nights, they had blessed him with profound comforts and reassurances, rekindling and restoring his hope and heart, and giving him the breaths of love he had needed to go on.
Walking out on the white arm holding up the open-air walkway and canopy bed of their suite, the other rooms of this suite just inside the steep, white, smoothly curving wall of the BB Spire, he set both his best girls down on the side of their canopy bed, side by side, both right in front of him, the diaphanous, white silk draperies of its canopy quietly swaying and flapping in the warm Inisfreean night breeze. The balcony of their suite was like many others of this skyscraper; three quarters of a mile above the white sandy beaches of Inisfree, extending out for dozens of feet before widening into a cul-de-sac like disc with that canopy bed centered upon it. It had no walls, nor anything to obstruct the view of half of Inisfree and the full dome of their nighttime sky. Billions of stars surrounded them in every direction, even reflected or refracted in the subtle ripples of the great lake nearly 400 stories below. It was specifically designed to give them the views and feeling of sleeping up in or atop the clouds, as if they were floating through the sky under a blanket of naught but stars.
Ambi had told her husband, Auz, that she was sometimes jealous. She had also violently snapped at one of the slave girls one time after she and Auz had enjoyed her. Thus, Auz had been having Ambi spend more time sleeping not with him, but the girls of Inisfree, that she learn how to relax, trust them not to steal her man from her, and not be quite so jealous. Ambi had done well, enjoying a number of his girls by herself, then arranging a couple orgies with them for his birthdays, and he explained to her that he adored her, and that he found her desire to have alone time with just her husband sexy, but that in Inisfree people loved and slept in groups more often than not. He needed Ambi to come out of her shell a bit more; to fully realize and come to terms with the fact that her defense mechanisms required for survival in the Outlands were not at all necessary, nor acceptable, here in Inisfree. Auz also knew from his studies and new alliance with the planet Gor that free women tend to be extra jealous about, sometimes excessively cruel against, slave girls, and since Ambi was one of the freest women of all, having her own queendom in the Outlands, and the wife of the highest king of all the world, she might be extra prone to those latent tendencies. Plus, Sarah, his beloved slave girl, was very frequently in his private chambers, such as his master bedroom, and his study, if she wasn't also right by his side. Whenever Ambi was busy running her queendom in the Outlands, Sarah was snuggled up with her husband, Auz, Sarah's stomach, pussy, and asshole always pumped full of Auz's cum. In order to protect Sarah from the wrath of a much stronger, faster, bloodthirsty vampire; his wife, Ambi, Auz had to expose them to one another in a safe setting; around Him. Ambi, in her own time and way, just as she had with several Others of Inisfree, would realize and grow confident in the fact that her husband, their king, would not lose interest in her just because other sexy girls were around; quite the opposite; such things, especially when accepted and enjoyed by Ambi, would only increase his love and lust for her exponentially. Until that advent, though, Ambi, like any new guest of Inisfree, was best helped and reassured with the supervision of an even Stronger being, such as an Inisfreean host or hostess. So long as she, a lethally gifted vampire, bore jealousy and other lingering effects from a lifetime spent growing up in the brutal Outlands, she could not be around shorter, mortal Sarah alone. Ambi had surely started to reveal the little, giggly, playful, horny young girl she'd had to keep bottled up, hidden and repressed deep inside, but she would have hiccups and regressions here and there, just as Any being with her challenging past and demanding Outlands life would. Her husband, Auz, understood this better than anyone else, being around her true self more than anyone else, and having had to overcome almost identical evolutions of self largely on his own.
Ambi was his wife and a free woman, so she came first this time; Auz cupped her cheeks in his hands and took his time planting a mesmerizing kiss on those lips of hers. "I love you," he smiled, their lips still slightly touching as his moved during his words, his eyes gazing down welcomingly and longingly into Ambi's own. He then kissed her forehead, turning to his First Girl.
"Sarah," he rumbled, cupping her cheeks now, "I love you, too."
She was his slave, and so she came after any free women in any event, though, as his top slave, before all other slaves, and certainly before all other Outlanders --who were considered even less than the bare minimum of what it would take to be nominated as candidates for initial slave Training.
Their lips met and sealed, his and Sarah's, working together and against one another's, their tongues exploring together, it seeming to last forever in those magical moments so full of true love.
Sarah and Auz were empaths; they could soon and easily feel Ambi's jealousy bubbling back up to her surface, her aura expanding like a miniature supernova at their side. She was on the verge of lashing out --both verbally and physically. She couldn't help it, but her husband understood and loved her.
Auz reached over to his wife, resting his warm hand around her cold shoulder, stabilizing and grounding her surging energies while also distracting and refocusing her mind, reminding her not to fly into a vicious rage. He then took Sarah's hand nearest Ambi, and placed it in Ambi's own nearest Sarah.
"I love how cool she always feels," he told Sarah, who would immediately notice that Ambi was, like so many vampires, cold to the touch, almost like ice, but in a smooth, silky, inviting way that didn't really chill or burn the one touching her.
Ambi's neck was tense, her eyes full of hesitancy and residual anger. She couldn't meet Sarah's eyes without showing her anger at the shorter, mortal girl. She wasn't just jealous of Sarah enjoying love with her husband, their king; she was also jealous of the fact that Sarah was still mortal; Ambi had been led to believe that she was no longer alive, and so could not fully enjoy life ever again. So many people had said so many cruel, heartless, baseless things to her... that she'd started to doubt herself and beLieve them.
Auz again kissed his wife's lips, rumbling to her those incredible spells and truths of his; "You are so beautiful, my love; my perfect wife. I want you So much." He Did. It was true, and Ambi would immediately sense and appreciate this.
"Sarah," he rumbled, his eyes remaining on Ambi's lips, sharing with her the energy of his need and want to experience more of them and all of her again; a delicious distraction and medicine, on top of his naturally calming aura helping to reassure them all. "Sarah, I want you to hold Ambi's palm to your cheek. See how it feels."
He waited for his slave to obey his command, knowing she might be as afraid of Ambi, a vampire, as ever.
"Now kiss her knuckles and fingertips... as you would kiss any romantic lover's."
Once Sarah had done this, he continued; "My daughters have said they love how Ambi feels like the winter..." He looked to Ambi's eyes now.
His wife couldn't help but tilt her head down and smile, flattered, softened, remembering that lovely memory.
"Now I want all three of us to kiss; all at the same time," he said, his hands now guiding Ambi and Sarah together in front of him.
Their lips, tentatively on the two girls' parts, met with his, and, all three of them together now, began to open and kiss, sometimes sliding side to side, sometimes gently closing around just an upper lip or a lower one.
"You both taste so very wonderful," he rumbled, all honest words, as always. "Sarah? ...Do you like how Ambi feels?"
He let Sarah continue sampling Ambi's lips, then respond in her own way.
"Ambi?" He kissed his way around Ambi's cheek while Sarah practiced on her lips. "Do you like how Sarah feels?"
Once the girls had relaxed a bit, Sarah warming up to Ambi, and Ambi, though remaining physically cool, emotionally warming up to Sarah, Auz cupped one of his hands around one of Ambi's breasts, and his other hand around one of Sarah's, and gently leaned them back down onto the bed, leaving them still kissing each other and holding hands. He slid one of his middle fingers into Ambi's pussy, the other middle finger into Sarah's pussy, and began to slowly finger them while French kissing Ambi's pussy. Moving back and forth between each, always leaving at least one finger inside both of their pussies, he made sure both girls were dripping wet, their thighs starting to shiver with pleasure and need of so much more. He looked up from their beautiful pussies from time to time, too; making sure they were still gently kissing and petting each other.
After half an hour of soothing and stimulating them, edging them toward climaxes and then skillfully denying them this early release, the king of Inisfree made love to them both at the same time, keeping the three of them tightly locked together in smoothly changing embraces until every possible permutation of their ménage à trois union had been achieved and mutually savored. At times, Ambi rode Auz's lap while Sarah straddled his face, both girls facing each other above him and making out while he performed cunnilingus on one and filled the other. Then he had the girls switch positions. Then he had one face the other way, leaning back against the one behind her, one girl cupping the other's breasts from behind. Again, he had them switch positions, then guiding this love triangle down on its side, repeating all possible intersections. For half an hour, he took each girl doggy style while he made out with the other, or while she splayed her legs wide open for the girl being fucked to eat her out. For half an hour he fucked the mouth of each girl while the other girl ate out her pussy even more. Then he took half an hour to fuck their asses while one girl sat on the other's face. On and on this marrying, edging, repositioning, and simultaneous orgasming went, well into the wee hours of first light when the pre-dawn brightens the black sky with hints of indigo. And by the time they had made each other cum two dozen times or more, he had his wife and best slave girl French kissing and swapping a mouthful of his cum. Soon enough... both these favorite girls in his life would be telling each other "I love you" too.
For the rest of the dark and dim, early morning hours, they rotated on their sides, taking turns spooning one another in every possible way, sometimes sandwiched around Auz, sometimes around Ambi, and sometimes around Sarah. One of his Inisfreean girls quietly swayed her way out onto their suite's arm, strutting along its open-air walkway to their canopy bed, at which she began to draw its layers of canopy draperies closed, leaving them in the dark space between, cuddled up tightly together upon its yanked and wrinkled, soaked and heated sheets, its pillows smashed and spread out all around them. They would now have much less light about them even as the Sun rose over the distant perimeter wall, and even though they were completely, save the canopy and its closed, overlapping draperies, outside.
The hours passed in peace, Ambi having learned through how Sarah's submissive aura and hopeful eyes spoke to her soul, that Sarah was not a threat. Sarah had learned that Ambi, though a jealous vampire, was not going to bite or hurt her. Auz kept Ambi between them; Sarah and him, most of that time, knowing Ambi loved being warmed up by them, and that she needed to be surrounded by more loving touch than Sarah at this time in her life. He also kept her facing Sarah, that they share Sarah's breath (Ambi, being a vampire, didn't need to breathe), synchronizing their biorhythms and brainwaves until they all decided to stir and wake up.
Breakfast was eventually served late in the day, sometime around lunch at noon, in traditional Inisfreean style; nyotaimori; their breakfast in bed was brought out to them by two Inisfreean girls, both nude, who set a third Inisfreean girl down across the foot of their sheet-covered mattress, leaving her as the living platter and presentation atop which was all their ordered food. Ambi tried eating a few bites of human food again; she enjoyed having her husband handfeed her (and Sarah handfed her this time, of course), and once they were full, they together made love to the Inisfreean girl who had laid there so patiently and silently while they picked up their morsels off her breasts and belly in the minutes before. She, being born of Inisfree, didn't have blood like humans did, so Auz let Ambi have a little bite and drink from his neck, keeping Sarah close by to watch and marvel at the intimate display. Ambi, after all, needed Her kind's form of breakfast, or this breakfast-in-bed get-together of theirs would be one-sided. Auz didn't command Sarah to let Ambi drink from her, but told them that if they both wished to share that sensation one day, to be openminded about it, and to have him present if they felt it would help either of them better enjoy the experience.
It was now early afternoon, and Auz sat up in bed, stretched, yawned, looked around groggily, had one of his nude girls put a parachute backpack on him, and then he casually stepped from the side of the bed down through an opening portal, instantly leaving him freefalling; skydiving straight down through the portal's exit miles above its start.
"Ahhhh. ...thAt's better," he smiled from ear to ear, his long brown hairs rapidly shimmying in the air above the back of his head.
Why didn't he just dive over the side of the bed's disc-arm, one might ask? The nearest Inisfreean girl would matter-of-factly answer "It's sort of random. He likes portals, too."
That following evening, his girls noticed the full moon when all of them went outside, the Inisfreean girls lighting up and beaming to him, "Happy full Moon, daddy!", and squeezed and showered him with kisses, eagerly interlacing their fingers with his own. Together, with his right arm around the back of Ambi's waist, and his left around the back of Sarah's, they stood there and watched as the bright, white and gray circle of the Moon inched its way up along its arc across their darkening sky, the first several dozen stars becoming visible all around it, blinking on as the blue sky dimmed and faded. It was an hour before they went back inside.
He realized, as he lied down to go to sleep with them, that when he and his top kajira said 'Master' and 'First Girl' to each other, they were really saying 'I love you.' The same was true of him and his wife, Ambi; when she called him 'my darkest king', and when he called her 'my darkest queen', they were also saying 'I love you'. He wondered next, with his last waking thoughts, his girls snuggled up on either side, what pet names and code terms the two of Them would develop for saying, Ambi and Sarah to each other, 'I love you.'
The lights and little flickering torches along the fluted columns and sheer walls of their master suite slowly dimmed down to nothing, leaving only the stars and aurora visible through the tall room's moonroof as their nightlight, and The Governor; the King of all Inisfree, fell asleep smiling, his First Girl cuddling up behind his legs and arms, and his top wife, the queen, cuddled up within them. In the morning they would wake just as blissfully, realizing they were still in each other's embraces, and would have their second nyotaimori breakfast in bed, and would feast their eyes further upon all the marvelous ways little Sarah had, upon him commissioning her, chosen to better decorate this cavernous, stately, main bedroom of theirs.
Game at Flower Towers Field:
In Inisfree, nudity is the general law and status quo, so in sporting events, there are no jerseys or other uniforms to distinguish the different teams. Because of the invincible Inisfreean anatomy, they don't even need to wear sneakers or sports bras, so if you were impressed by the sexiness and revealing outfits of lingerie football in the Outlands, be prepared to watch entire games with your jaw dropping down to the floor in Inisfree.
Instead, teams are differentiated by which colors the Inisfreean girls set their hair and the irises of their eyes to be, and this can be any imaginable combination of colors, highlights, ribbons, and more. And since Inisfreeans can't get gashes, dislocations, torn tendons, concussions, or broken bones, they even play full-contact sports nude, tackling in football and rugby, bare-knuckle boxing, and sparring in Mixed Martial Arts without shin guards or any Other protective gear.
For visiting teams from the various Outland realms which are compatible with the Inisfreean Way, the players, always females, are allowed to distinguish their teams with colorful war paints, hair ribbons, fingerless gloves, armbands, garters, and/or sports bras. Cosmetics, such as makeup and hair dyes, are among the contraband in Inisfree; banned from even being near the Perimeter Wall,
as are any concealing articles of clothing, for in Inisfree only the sexy are allowed, and only if they are nudists; happy to share their natural body and beauty with all around them here.
The writing of the philosophy of Gor had reaffirmed the Inisfreean King's belief that it is good for a girl to be thrilled by being taken to watch an occasional sporting event. Tasking many of his daughters; the Inisfreean-born girls, with handling this on a regular basis for the many human girls his city had taken in as pleasure slaves, he took care of ensuring it remained part of his best slave girl's monthly life; about once every month, he took his First Girl, Sarah Conrad, out to see a ballgame --or any of the Other major sports competitions held atop their city's Flower Towers; those skyscrapers shaped like the hourglass of the fabled wonder of the ancient world, the Temple of Venus. These buildings also looked a lot like the nuclear powerplant silos of the late 20th century, except with a much wider top, waterfalls, and throngs of nude girls flocking to and from them throughout the course of every Inisfreean day. Everyone from middle schoolers to professional national teams and Olympic athletes used the courts, fields, and rinks of the wide 'petals' of these Flower Towers. There were even stadium enclosures atop a number of them, with spotlight clusters, Paleolithic snack vendors, real grass as the turf of every playing field, cafes serving orders nyotaimori style; the works. The Inisfreeans pulled out all the stops.
Sarah, a 17 year old girl shielded within the remote confines of mighty Inisfree during the pollution-removal and terraforming of the rest of her homeworld, Earth, now sat by the left shin and foot of her master, Inisfree's King, while he relaxed on a spectator chair which looked much like a throne. Free to hug his calf or have a little space to herself, he sometimes petted her head, held his fingers by her mouth for her to suck on and lick between, and tossed her a bite of a vendor's snack, though he also rewarded her by letting her eat it right out of his hand, her own hands being kept at her sides or behind her back, of course; proper kajira etiquette.
When the players, arranged in their teams and starting line-ups, stood on opposite sides of the field for the playing of the Inisfreean anthem, everyone in the stands, the king and his little slave girl included, also stood, everyone present placing one hand around the left breast of the girl nearest them (over her heart, as it were), and their other hand up against her pussy's slit. This formed a human chain and energy circuit all the way around the stadium, helping to better balance and align the chakras and energy meridians of everyone present, that they be more able to relax and enjoy the game. When the Inisfreean anthem finished playing, all the girls in the stadium French kissed everyone around them, then everyone returned to their luxurious seats; every seat a thickly-padded chair-and-a-half, not a plastic bucket-seat like in the Outlands.
In keeping with Inisfreean customs and courtesies, Sarah, a slave girl, was permitted no clothing at these events. She was the silky pet heeling her master, both spectators setting the highest standard and examples for their whole realm. She was, however, and of course, permitted to very briefly look up at her master when she wished to suck his cock or mount him, grinding her pussy around his cock as she rode his lap, careful to stay out of his line of sight with the playing field, that he never miss a single play or other event during the game. Sometimes he would cast her a warning look, though he remained calm when he did this, telling her in this way not to bother him with her horny, pleading eyes. Sometimes he would finish in her mouth, then tell her to hold it in her mouth until he was ready for her to suck his cock again; that he enjoy the feeling of his sperm added to her saliva lubricant, which always helped him cum in her mouth even sooner and more. Then she would be allowed to play with it, letting all that cum he had let her suck up into her mouth slowly fall from her lips, elongating in a clear string, down into her cupped palms, at which point she could lick or suck it back up, rub it over her breasts, or try to finger it up into her pussy; whatever turned her on the most while they watched the rest of the game together. Whenever the team they favored at any of these events was playing well, such as when one hit a home run or scored a touchdown, Sarah was further rewarded by being encouraged to celebrate by excitedly cheering and hopping up to straddle and fuck her master some more. Sometimes, too, such as whenever he left their box seats to greet friends he saw elsewhere across the stadium, he would lash Sarah's wrists and ankles around the nearest structural support pole, leaving her in bondage for any interested passersby to make thorough use of her on their way to and from the vendors, restrooms, or other facilities atop or inside their current Flower Tower.
[to be posted: play-by-play description of the game they are watching, with interjections about the sport itself, and, perhaps, hints about the way other sports are played in Inisfree, also, at the end, mentioning which of the players they watched in this text block... are expected to go on to the Inisfreean Olympic Games]
When the game was over, fireworks were launched off the top corners of the stadium on their 'petal' of the Flower Tower, exploding into colorful shapes high in the sky over the playing field, and no one worried about hurrying out ahead of the masses to beat the possible traffic jams; in Inisfree, a combination of luxurious mass transit systems, computer assisted traffic flows, offset shifts and lunch breaks, flying personal vehicles, mag-lev subway trains, jogging trails, and even teleporting made traffic a thing of the distant human past. So, when the winning team lined up and high-fived the losing team, it was instead down into the locker-room of the winning team that the king took his First Girl, tossing Sarah into the cluster of dozens of celebrating athletes who encircled her, triple penetrating her until she was overflowing with pints of their union. Standing or sitting off to the side during these locker-room afterparties, he enjoyed the attentions of some of the female athletes while keeping an eye out to make sure Sarah was using her absolute best sex tricks to please and congratulate all the winning players, no matter how they raped her.
Sarah witnesses blind Space repair practice/training once she goes to Star-system Auz; Inisfreeans practice blindfolded / blacked-out helmet-visor repair work in zero-gravity; in high orbit!
I explain to Sarah, we flying nude through Inisfree's Inner Space (vs Outer Space), that if she does well in this solar system we created, handling the various combinations of invisible effects each of these custom-made, unique planets, with their moons, have upon her, she will then be ready to join me on the Firefly-class Spaceship 'Persephone'; our disguise to make us seem human and familiar as we roam around OUTER Space, interacting with even more wonderful beings and civilizations than even Inisfree has as its many guests.
I take her to some worlds with multiple moons, for example, and she gets to experience the increased effects that such overlapping lunar forces have upon a girl, just as is the case on Earth with one moon, and on Gor, much more so, with its three moons. (such as how it sends Panther Girls into fits of frenzied dancing and moaning; Sarah now experiences this, and I stand back and enjoy watching her blossom in this way, then let her pounce on me and, for the first time, let Her be the one to 'rape' Me; quite the rush and thrill for the little Outlander girl)
Once Sarah learns herself (and I make an OOC note to have her think up a few things her character realizes about herself and these unseen cosmic forces acting upon her on the various worlds with their various combos of such forces), and knows herself much better than ever before, I tell her, not inviting her, for I like to control, and she likes to BE controlled, to board my Spaceship; Persephone is hidden in an underground hangar in the Military Aerospaceport, as it is a clandestine wartime vessel, heavily armed and armored; something to be kept in that facility.
I tell her we will meet a few people in the Outlands; in Outer Space many lightyears away from this world our city is currently anchored upon. I will introduce her to those who will become part of the crew of my Persephone.
We will travel to the 34 Tauri star-system, and I show this to her on a map on the console in the cockpit.
"We will depart centuries from now; when humanity is allowed to colonize some of the worlds out there. Think of it like an island chain; colonists are going to explore and settle it the same way they did the Americas the same number of centuries ago. You have the choice of remaining awake in Inisfree up until then, or sleeping in our Stasis Facility (Archives) until it is time for us to depart. There is no 'freezer burn' or anything like that, for we do not use primitive Outlander cryogenic techniques."
her reply and her choice; stay awake or sleep until then:
The City Gates:
[This is the first time Sarah is shown the Pearly Gates and what lies beyond the great wall. The King leads her through the sequence of armored chambers, each one large enough for an aircraft carrier to sail through with room to spare, explaining a bit about how they were built and function, though mostly just letting barefoot Sarah experience them, remembering how she prefers to feel and simply be told things, rather than hear more detailed talk of science and engineering; those who are slaves at heart do not want explanations, only love and commands.]
The king's signature voice rumbled like distant thunder to his favorite Outlander girl, now an elite member of his special home, "You were flown in with the rest of the evacuees through the river tunnels a mile beneath this continent's ice cap, so you didn't get to see any of this grand wonder and majesty; the white and silvery landmass that is the bedrock of our home."
His arm was around her as though it was the wing of a guardian angel shielding and warming a young little bird standing for the first time on the edge of her nest, making ready to view her world for the first time, and, perhaps, to attempt her first flight down to the ground.
"After all you've seen and learned here, you now know why these massive gates and walls are so necessary to the preservation of this sacred realm. You know how the humans behave and treat all who are different; their racism against their own kind, and their genocidal rampages against all other life, even to the point that they destroyed and covered up archaeological finds merely because they were squeamish about science and sex, senselessly insecure to their own bitter end. You grew up amongst them, experiencing first hand how they demonize and condescend toward all life, even their own children and lovers. You know some of their long history of brutal, heartless enslavement of others of their own kind, too; the Inquisition and witch hunts, the Trail of Tears, the Holocaust and mustard gas attacks of the trenches, and so on. Now, after all that, you can fully appreciate why we keep these great gates closed, letting in only the finest and loveliest beings for the rest of time."
Picnic on the Clearing:
((polish up this section))
the aurora strands and wisps hung and curled slowly high above them
a meteor shower had a shooting star darting this way and that every half minute or so
the light breeze could be heard rustling through the countless healthy leaves of the treeline encircling their clearing half a mile out, and carried with it the fragrances of countless mountain wildflowers of every shape and size
To their left they could see the top edge of Statue Park, to their right, the luxury apartment complexes of the neighborhoods slope flanked by Hawaiian ti-houses and tipi clusters, just a bit farther down the slope in that direction was Waterfall City, down the slope of their clearing right in front of them was the Dulles Shuttles Motorpool, and right behind them, back about a quarter mile and a few stories up, was one of Inisfree's finest open-air gyms, right on the edge of that rearward treeline, which boasted a rooftop patio café, a Nuru massage and acupuncture clinic annex, a Paleolithic Diet-centric, Genghis Grill fashioned, Mongolian restaurant, and a main room with every CrossFit and Olympic gymnastics exercise tool and machine one could ever want, all perfectly organized and spotless on display.
The slope of this clearing, Inisfree's largest this high up on the main mountain, was steep enough that they could lie down and feel as though they were relaxing at the angle of a recliner, and have fun rolling down to the lower edge of the clearing if they lied laterally across it.
Prayer Before Picnic, Inisfree Style:
The king took a handful of freshly picked, strongly wonderfully smelling wild sage, crushed it up, and sprinkled its tiny particles of crumbles onto a few bites of the lemon sprinkled salmon, then took two more handfuls, crumbled them up, too, and let them pour into a bowl between their two plates, thereafter using a magnifying glass lens to alight it, creating an incense better than any candle.
"The fragrance of sage purifies the spirit and the body, and so it is that we always have some ready to offer to anyone for arranging around their bed while they sleep. When we toss its leaves onto hot coals, the plume that rises creates a pathway up to the stars for our prayers. And so it is that we burn this plant whenever we wish upon a star."
"The stars are ancient angels who moved into the abyss, and the abyss is a Good thing; a conscious being much like Gaia, in that we can communicate with it. It is said that when one looks into the abyss, the abyss looks back, but this, too, is a good thing; a Very good thing; it is like two lovers gazing deeply into each other's eyes. Do not be afraid of the abyss; of Outer Space, any more than you would be afraid of your true love."
sitting down with her close at his left side, he turned his head to face his little slave girl, put his left arm around her back, took her chin in his right hand, kissed her lips once and for a very long moment, rumbled through a smile how good she tastes to him, and then said "Let's eat, love slave." In saying that, he acknowledge that Sarah was more than just a work slave, and even more than a pleasure slave.
Then, more than satisfied with her as his appetizer, turning to their heavenly meal, he added "You may eat on your own.. from your plate.. with the silverware.. as you please." He grinned, remembering her heart's nature, "And I always love you eating out of my hand, so though I know you prefer I make the choices for you, this time I choose that that choice is yours."
after they'd eaten and stargazed together, they made love as one of the Inisfreean cloud formations came slowly floating around the far side of the main mountain they sat upon. it was perfect timing, just like everything in this realm; all their meal now pleasantly consumed, it was time to enjoy a light, warm mist of a shower of purest rain
make LOVE to Sarah in thunderstorm rolling through - she sleeps best that way -same as the king does- and write that he slept like a baby --because of Her being there
the rain stopped right after they finished cumming together, and they fell asleep looking up at the reappearing aurora and stars again, still throbbing for each other, still together as one.
"Goodnight, Sarah," the King whispered to her, resting his chin along the side of her head. It was one of the only times he had used her name instead of her title. It meant, perhaps, more than she knew.
*After this picnic, the King takes Sarah's hand in his, and flies her a quarter of the way back around their city's massive central mountain, up over the colorful leaves of the Kings Drive canopy, over even the castle-like perimeter wall of his private mansion, to set their feet down on one of the two balcony patios. "Sarah," the King smiled with a knowing twinkle in his eyes; something special was about to happen, "I want to show you what will be helping you from now on." And with that, he walked her across the smooth tiles of the patio open to the Inisfreean sky, just one level down from its rooftop (though that rooftop was still 100 feet above the patio they now walked upon), and into the double doors which were already silently sliding apart before them, her smaller hand still in his bigger one. "These kajirae are all yours, Sarah. Congratulations. You've earned them." He let her hand go from his, and stood by to enjoy her reaction as she began to take in all that was now her own. This was her latest graduation gift, and one of countless more to follow. Kneeling with their knees wide open, their nude bodies posed in perfect, sexy posture, their eyes straight forward, palms up while the backs of their hands rest on top of their perfectly formed thighs, were a dozen of the most excruciatingly beautiful Outlander girls now graduated as pleasure slaves, all in a row facing Sarah as she entered her suite's main room from its outdoor balcony, and all 12 of them belonged to her, the best pleasure slave of them all. They were now her assistants; her version of secretaries, maids, and errand runners, and would be helping her whenever she was tasked with using her artistic gifts to decorate the gigantic rooms of the mansion that was now her home; such hangar-like spaces were far too tall and deep for any one girl to decorate and spice up on her own. Inisfreean girls could and would help Sarah from time to time, too, but this squad of kajirae were assigned to follow her orders at all times, without so much as a moment's notice; Inisfreeans were sometimes busy and called elsewhere, sometimes places where human girls could not go.
"And Sarah," the king had that serious, rumbly tone he used to quiet a room and get everyone's attention for a stern moment, and he paused for her to stop gawking at her guest suite and look at him "..if you get lazy ..or fat.. I'll throw you over the balcony."
The king looked down at his slave girl with steely eyes, his body unmoving. he fought the cheeky grin well, but only for a few seconds, and it finally showed; he was joking in the usual, casually murderous Marine Corps fashion.
"I'm Serious, Sarah; if this place spoils you, I'll throw you over the goddamned balcony," he chuckled the last word out, knowing he couldn't pull off another serious scare; she knew how he joked by now. He also knew he could trust her; she was a submissive and a pleasure slave in her heart, and had a Herculean work ethic just like him.
Putting his hands warmly around her shoulders, he smiled almost fatherly to her; there would be no joking in what he said next. "Enjoy your slave girls. I love you."
And with that, he left her to get her squad of slave girls settled in on her own. He knew she knew he would call for her when she was desired again, so she had to get to work getting to know her knew property and seeing what they could do, as well as which ones needed to work on which skills, before she had to put them to formal task for the Inisfreean royalty and their routinely-visiting foreign dignitaries.
The next day, he returned to find her; the first Outlander girl he'd truly loved.
"As you continue to rise into your role, First Girl, I will occasionally call upon you to hand-pick your finest sisters in bondage, that I get to sample your absolute best competition for the coveted position of First Girl; you will go to the girl pens across Inisfree and fetch for me your fellow kajirae, always only the ones you know have studied the most, trained the hardest, demonstrated the greatest talents, and put all their hearts and souls, just as much as You have, into this job of being a female pleasure slave. You will escort them to wherever I have summoned them, then wait outside while I put them through their paces. If they fail to impress me, both they and you will have your privileges reduced for a time. If they stun me with how well they have learned the ways of the kajirae, and how well you have helped train and hand-pick them, both they and you will have your privileges expanded. Go now... and fetch for me the unquestionably sexiest and most gifted kajirae we have here in Inisfree; the finest blonde, the finest redhead, and the finest brunette you know of, and I will see if your tastes and knowledge are as profound as your ability to decorate and make love."
That did, of course, mean possibly selecting some of her new squad of personal assistants to send off to please their king.
The king took Sarah by her upper arms and raped a Gorean kiss from her lips, teeth, gums, and tongue, and then returned to his royal work on the latest advancement of his city.
Sarah was expected to be swift and prompt, wise and eternally giving, always on the lookout for more ways and girls to be pleasing to him, their king. She knew that if she picked poorly, presenting to him raw, ignorant, unprepared girls, she would be sent to Inisfree's prison... and left there for so long as it should please him to have her caged and beaten there. The King was very easy to please; he only wanted one thing; perfection. Thus far, Sarah had well demonstrated that.
((polish this section)) --written in first person by the King
The King smiled to his beloved kajira who had made him so infinitely proud by graduating at the very top of her whole class, "First Girl, this is the small Spaceship I use to rendezvous discretely with those of other worlds. In time, ...we will be fielding a Spacecraft-carrier I designed, and it is this ship, which I named Persephone; in honor of my favorite goddess, which will carry us to and from that Spacecraft-carrier... and to many of the worlds its patrol flights take it into the orbits of."
We use cloaked portals to fly out to any point in Space, even Deep Space, and make it appear as though we are coming around the horizon of a planet or moon, masking our signature much better that way, as well as our method of arrival and departure from those distant regions of Space. That way, no one learns the location of Inisfree, nor our level of transportation sophistication; we seem like just another strange, outdated, rickety little personal ship, barely bigger than a lifeboat.
It was 2014 when I told Sarah these things; a year into her arrival and education in Inisfree. It was 2517 when I let her know it was time to fly out to the 34 Tauri system.
Nyria Serra walks on board, joining us, and Sarah, by now, has learned her Inisfreean chain of command; she knows that Nyria is the 3rd in command of the entire Inisfreean empire; Nyria Serra is highest-born royalty in Inisfree, and the highest-ranking of all Master Females. While Sarah is falling to her knees to greet her as the beautiful, fully trained, Inisfreean kajira that she is, not to mention our heart-slave (for all Inisfreeans are extentions of me, thus Sarah, my heart-slave is a heart-slave to them all; to all of Inisfree, which is the same being as me; we are one creature/person), Nyria Serra greets me as all Inisfreean-born girls do and desire to; Nyria stands with her legs apart, welcoming my hand down into her skimpy couture garb, helping me to finger her as she starts, with her other hand, to get into my pants to start jacking me off, all the while French kissing me and leaning her tits into my free hand as I enjoy them completely. Inisfreeans are tactile and sexual, and always greet one another at least this sexually.
I tell Sarah, "Rise, First Girl," seldom calling her 'slave' these days, as she has proven to be Best slave, not merely A slave. Nyria continues casually jacking me off, and I, fingering her just as casually, she remaining standing wide legged and as close to me as I desire, as I continue bringing our best kajira up to speed. "Nyria's cover story is that of a Registered Companion from one of the worlds in the 34 Tauri system. She is actually deep recon in that star system, cleverly linking back up with me when I passed through her final objective's area; a town on one of that system's worlds. I used her as part of a larger social experiment out there; to see if humanity, having matured for half a millennium, is capable of proper interaction with the Inisfreean people and our Way."
I also tell Sarah, as we fly Persephone up from the Military Aerospaceport into an airspace-portal linking us to a restricted area of Space in 34 Tauri, that over the past several years, the Inisfreeans built a Spacecraft carrier, like an aircraft carrier, to house thousands of human Outlanders and Inisfreeans as a cooperative crew; part of that social experiment I was talking about, and that we dock with that parent vessel from time to time, launching this Firefly of ours from it once we get closer to the worlds of that star system, though sometimes also flying ourselves between them just with the Firefly, when it suits us. --and that she will, in the next few days, meet the rest of the crew I have formed over the latter three of those several Spacecraft-carrier-crew-formative years; she is about to meet Brahan, Mr. Bilderberg, and our medical officer, whom we call 'Doc', Sasha Bulgakov.
"Yes, Nyria is servicing them all; that is part of the social experiment; making sure they are comfortable, as humans, with that form of love. And, yes, you will be expected, as a fully trained pleasure slave girl, to service any of them who desire you, too. They are all good men of good standing. You will enjoy being pleasing to them. They are not Goreans, and certainly not an Inisfreean warlord like me, but they are still worth your time in bed, and are deserving of your talents. They have worked well as my teammates out there, and, like you, they are giving me hope that humanity should be permitted a chance to expand out there in that region of our galaxy. I know you will make them happy, and, in doing so, me proud."
Right as we exit the portal, flying out into the Space behind an uncolonized moon in 34 Tauri, where it is very difficult to notice our curious arrival out of slip-space, I tell Sarah (remember to give her loving commands as slave from a calm master in control, NOT to ask her things; she doesn't like chivalry, nor do you, for she is a slave at heart, and you are a master at heart). "In a moment we will turn off the gravity drive of Persephone, and you will experience weightlessness as you did when I took you into Inisfree's hidden, Inner Space star-system. Like humans harnessing fire, lightning (electricity), radio waves, X-rays, microwaves, ions, gamma rays, and the atom (nuclear power), we Inisfreeans have also harnessed gravity, and can now, like humans with a light switch turning on and off the electricity they have harnessed, turn on and off, with similar switches, the gravity we have harnessed. Like lightbulbs of many shapes, sizes, colors, and intensities, we have learned how to custom make gravity into countless forms. In this ship, it is a simple example of this technology; we can turn it on to mimic the gravity of Earth; an acceleration, toward the generated plane of attraction, of -9.8m/s^2. ..."
I then nod to Nyria, who manually turns off the gravity drive, and we all float up in our seats. "Remove your seat harness," I tell my slave girl, Sarah. "Float around our ship for a bit. Get used to propelling yourself, and climbing on all surfaces." I pause, enjoying her extreme beauty as she beings to move, adding "and enjoy yourself, Sarah. You are very beautiful when you are happy -perhaps as much as when you cry and worry about pleasing me." I wonder if she is such a good slave girl, and such a slave at heart, that she will also, to my delight, enjoy having her emotions set, from time to time, by her master, too.
After a while, enjoying watching my favorite slave girl show her exquisite body to me from all angles as she floats and rotates through Persephone's cargo bay, I expertly launch myself through the zero gravity environment toward her, smoothly closing my arms around her as I pass up in front of her chest, and this slows me down, while beginning to move her a bit, transferring some of my momentum into her, and we float toward one of the walls of this chamber, I putting up one arm to spring-slow our movement once we near that wall, my hand, then, closing around a bar there to stop and hold us in place. I kiss my favorite slave girl the way they kiss on Gor, and make very, very thorough use of her there, filling her pussy with my cum and then sliding her panties and then her pants back up, making sure they help keep all that cum where it belongs; up inside her pussy where I put it. Again, I give her many minutes of unbroken, passionate, pulling, dominating kisses on her lips and tongue, letting her know in our favored language of touch how much I desire and love her, moaning, almost growling, my deep pleasure into each kiss and tasting of those perfect lips and tongue of hers, finally moving back away from her and having her tuck my cock back into my underwear for me, knowing she loves to hold and help it.
"Two more things you need to know, First Girl," I tell her; "one: Nyria bunks with me in one of the small rooms in the neck of this Spaceship. You will sleep with us each night, though you will be chained by your slave collar to the foot of our bed, and will tend to all of the chores of that room, as well as whatever else Nyria tells you to do. She knows what needs to be done, and passes down my will as orders from her to you. You will obey her at all times, and you can trust her. She loves you as much as I do, after all. She will not let anything bad happen to you.
"And two: you, like Nyria, must have a cover story while we are out here, for our social experiment in this star system is not yet complete, and has not yet fully proven that humanity, even this many centuries advanced, is ready to and worthy of knowing about Inisfree. Some of them; those stationed on active duty aboard the Spacecraftcarrier 'The New Horizon', which we are sailing now through Space to dock with, know that a percentage of their crew are Inisfreeans, but they are also living with the fact that they are not cleared to know where the homeworld of the Inisfreeans is, or that it is actually a city-starship-solarsystem all in one. You will not tell them this, and they may not ask, even though you are a slave. Your only response, should any human ask about this, is that you are only a slave, and know nothing of those things, and then you should promptly report it to me. I will be able to see through your eyes, and watch your memories as though they are recordings in a video camera, so all you need do is call out to me in your mind, like a wish or a prayer, and this will summon me or my attention, and I will review the memories you direct me to."
we dock with TNH, and go from there!
Sarah's First Mortician Event:
Sarah gets to help Auz as part of a Persephone mission - and Auz has her use her massage skills on him before bed ea night; her childhood ambition comes to fruition; her dream to be a masseuse or mortician comes true
Sarah Goes to Prison:
The King sat down with the teenage girl from the Outlands who had become his great love. "Sarah," that signature voice of his rumbled its soothing notes, "in this city of ours, it is tradition that all slave girls spend some time away from their masters. You have both said and indicated through your body language; your reactions to things over these past months you have been with us here, that you desire to live the life of a slave girl. It is because of that indication that I think you will enjoy the next place in Inisfree you are sent to explore and learn from. Sarah," he took her hands in his own, letting her know, through the language of touch that was so important to her and the King alike, that he meant well and loved her dearly and deeply, and was not at all displeased with her in any way, "I am, in keeping with the traditions of Inisfree, sending you to our prison for a few weeks." He knew that might hit her like a ton of bricks, what with how it sounded; what with the negative connotations all Outlanders naturally had for that word, and so he continued holding her hands, unless, of course, she yanked them back away in shock. "First, however, I want you to read about our prison via our city's private Internet. And right now, I give you permission to ask any questions you may have. You will have plenty of time to prepare yourself for this experience, because you are my most treasured kajira, and I want it to be an experience a slave girl would enjoy, much as I enjoyed my comparable experiences in the Marine Corps of our Earth of the previous Age."
describe her view of the intentionally disorienting prison top floor view; walking out over all the prison blocks in that hangar-like enclosure measuring two thirds of a mile along all four of its sides, with no support pillars in it; only its four distant walls, and how it looked like an optical illusion; enough to make one become dizzy and stumbling over, even nearly going cross-eyed.
Every hatch was left unlabeled. It was just a room with six blank surfaces, with the only exception being that the floor had a grid of circular hatches upon it. Who could tell which circular hatch, like a man-hole cover, corresponded to which part of which prison block? Only the Inisfreeans, for they were one with their constructs, and could tell where they were in this facility, and in all places, as easily as a human can tell which of their own fingers they are about to move.
The lighting was a dull, dim, indirect, blue-gray; like on overcast sky out at sea in the early morning or late afternoon; like the sky color and general 'feel' of a rainy England, Scotland, or Washington day. The light seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once, as it was generated by microscopic cells within the translucent walls themselves, always on, never flickering, never more or less in any spot, and only dimming or going completely dark when the Inisfreeans wished to excite or scare the prisoners they routinely allowed to think were about to succeed in a daring escape; they would make this vast room, measuring 12,383,361 square feet; more than 284 acres, go pitch black --so that you couldn't even see your hands in front of your own face, forcing the 'escaping' girls into forming a human chain and feeling their way along the walls that, at that point, would surely seem horrifyingly never-ending. They might be allowed to pass through the Gate House and even the local G.A.H. subway station, reaching the surface without encountering any Inisfreeans at all, but even then... only find themselves in yet another vast and alien, unknown environment; a barren wasteland with the distant hints of light from other regions of Inisfree far beyond its mountain ridges of sandy crags and ruins silhouettes. Possibly noticing the few, practice, military outposts arranged around the hatch connecting that local G.A.H. subway station to this surface desert, they might continue moving stealthily, pushing through their fear, fatigue, and total sense of being lost and without even stars to navigate by (as all stars above the South Pole are completely different than what people in all formerly colonized parts of the Earth got used to seeing). They might also seek shelter in what appear to be abandoned factories nearby; Inisfree's MOUT Town, looking like something out of a post-apocalyptic zombie film, or the aftermath of WWIII; the Rapture Campaign.
Then, at some point before any of these girls are able to reach the borders of this military desert region; before they can see that it is surrounded by sheer cliffs on all sides, some going up for thousands of stories, and some going down just as far, they would be confronted by a Master Female; one of Inisfree's most elite girls, and fooled into thinking they were being found out, hunted, and threatened with grizzly slaughter and consumption right there and then.
Waking up hours later, right back in their cells, they might wonder if it had only been a dream, then confer with one another in hushed tones if they ever got the chance during study hall or pre-bedtime time periods, discovering that they had shared the experience after all, and then wondering further... if it had been, somehow, a shared dream... or the actual attempt of what they had planned and so bravely executed, ...only to fail and have their forced return to this prison skillfully erased from their memories.
Making Love to Her on the Pier:
The king returns with Sarah to that special pier reaching out over the surface of their home-city's light blue lake where he treated Sarah, freshly graduated as his best kajira back in 2013, to a surf-side night of lovemaking just with him. Again, they sit in that quiet jacuzzi, its surface sprinkled with rose petals, its water pleasantly hot while he massages her whole body, suckling on her breasts, then squeezing her close as they cum together while watching another meteor shower high above, its silvery streaks reflected in the calm surface of the lake spreading out all around them. Sarah's slave collar, made of a single diamond, sparkles under the dim, indirect candlelight...
live RP chat to write this portion with her