Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I glanced over at the five nearly naked girls arrayed in a perfectly spaced row against the wall. Behind them a splendid mural showed scenes of debauchery, as the men’s dining room in a Vionian palace nearly always did. Here a man in armor fucked a girl over a banquet table. There a girl knelt before her naked masters, his cock buried deep between her lips and his hand on the back of her head to keep her to her duty.
The concubines’ eyes remained fixed on the marble floor in front of them, just as an obedient bonded servant’s should. As I studied their faces, though, considering whether to take Hesborin up on one or more of his offers, I found myself hoping one of them would dare to look up at me.
I sighed and turned back to Hes.
“I have to be home tonight. There’s a council meeting I need to beam into,” I told him, without real regret, considering that none of his concubines had raised her eyes, and none had even seemed to blush at their master’s shameless words. Perhaps I should acquire a girl—a Kamnian, I decided—and engage a mistress of concubines, with the money this deal with Hes would net me despite all the care it would bring. If I did, I would be able to ensure that she had a little spirit, as well as that certain innocence and modesty I couldn’t deny fired my dominant blood.
Chalondra
My hands, out in front of me, clenched into little fists. I tried to make them go downward, towards my legs, where I could use them to raise my dress as Agent Delvik had commanded. At the same time, between my legs, my muscles had clenched hard, trying to keep the rest of the pee inside my bladder. I had bent my knees, and I stood like a little girl about to have an accident, shifting my weight from foot to foot and bouncing up and down.
My hands wouldn’t move. I watched the horrible man in the red uniform lower his finger to his handheld again, his eyes not moving from my face.
“No!” I screamed. “N—”
The pain erupted in my body again, and I felt my bladder muscles let go. The warm wetness gushed into my already soaking panties and down the insides of my thighs. I cried out, and my hands descended at last to grab the lap of my dress, gather it, and take the hem of the undyed homespun into my fingers.
The pain stopped. I sobbed in relief, and utterly defeated, I raised my dress above my waist. The sobs kept wringing themselves from my chest as the shame continued and grew with every passing second of the tinkling, splattering sound of my pee on the metal floor of my cage.
“See?” said Agent Delvik. “You’re learning. You clearly need to be broken, girl, but you can see that the company has the means to do it very easily—and I might add, very enjoyably.”
As he finished delivering this latest degrading speech, the flow of my pee into my underwear had slowed to a tiny trickle. I let out a soft whimper with each breath out of my nose. I knew my face must have turned a deep red, judging from the burning heat I felt from my neck to the roots of my hair.
“Also, my dear,” he continued, somehow making my dear sound like the most humiliating obscenity that could emerge from a human mouth, “you may console yourself, I suppose, in the knowledge that bad girls like you fetch a much higher price. The masters and mistresses who bid on you will have access to the video records of your preparation. Concubines who have required the sort of breaking you’ve just begun today often fetch two or three times as much as girls who go willingly to their masters’ and mistresses’ beds and bend obediently to have their faults corrected.”
I could do nothing but stand, trembling, and listen to the man’s partly terrifying, partly mysterious words—the mysterious parts only adding to the terror.
Agent Delvik’s eyes studied me once again, his gaze traveling down to the shameful puddle I was standing in, then upward to my plain panties and lingering there as if savoring the way they clung to my private parts. Kamnian girls’ underwear came from the company, made of soft synthcotton and distributed to families by the village administration. Across the front and across the back, where the words sat just above the cleft of my pussy and right over my sit-spot, it bore the words in capital letters, “Property of the Tri-System Mercantile Company.”
Until this moment, I had never wondered why we got our panties from elsewhere in the galaxy. It had seemed simply natural that a world whose own fabrics would feel much too rough on such sensitive areas should receive help from the Vionians who took our products and sold them on other planets. Nor had I ever thought to extend the idea that my underwear belonged to someone else to the notion that my body belonged to someone else.