The restraints released, and her hands and feet sprang away from the table with the coiled tension in her muscles. The commander’s hand was against the small of her back as though he had expected her. The ‘leash’ clinked against her collar, and she felt the prod of his stick.
They were moving on.
* * *
The subsequent roomsunfolded before Lana’s eyes to the silence of the commander, who did not seem to think they needed to linger or that the sights required explanation.
They really did not need explanation, as the purpose of the machines and contraptions and devices she saw, and the trainers who operated them, had already been explained: they were disciplining and training the women in their care to be sexual slaves and breeders.
To enjoy their submission and humiliation, as the commander had said. It was upon those words that Lana’s mind lingered most; however much she tried to focus on her plans of escape and a spirit of liberation, the wordsenjoy, submission, pleasure,anddisciplinemingled together with the images she saw and produced a red-hot pool of pleasurable discomfort in her abdomen.
As she was led by her leash through the rooms, she saw women were bound by not only the magnetic cuffs she herself was wearing, but elaborate systems of ropes and other materials, forced by their bondage into submissive positions, their genitals on display to be used however their trainers saw fit. And they saw fit to do a great many things: long strings of beads were pulled slowly from inside their bottoms, each one larger than the last. Others were stimulated by something pressed against their pussy, while they were spanked mercilessly by a man with a paddle or a leather strap. Their shrieks were indescribable, indicating both pleasure and pain, and their legs shook uncontrollably against their bondage.
In one room, bound girls impaled their bottoms on stationary phalluses attached to a wall, their eyes desperate with desire, motivated to ride the phalluses themselves by something unknown—and surely to be revealed to Lana later. Curiosity clawed inside of her as she watched them, wondering what they wanted so badly that they would impale themselves so aggressively. The memory of the object inside of her own bottom ached and throbbed as she imagined herself in the same position.
The commander paused longest at a girl tied like a hog on a table, bound by layers of rope, a metal ball protruding slightly from her anus. It pressed outward if she moved, pulled by a long metal strip that ran from the ball, along her back, and to the ropes that also suspended her arms. The commander made no comment but gave the impression, as they paused there, that there was something about this particular scene he wanted Lana to take note of.
In another room, there were women hanging from their bound ankles and wrists, their pussies glistening, their moans like a dull roar from behind the gags in their mouths, as trainers walked along the line of them and slapped them gently or harshly with leather paddles, or used a bullet-shaped device to stimulate their clitoris until their backs arched. But the women seemed to never be given any release, abandoned by the trainers at the last moment to swing in their restraints, muscles tense, moaning from the disappointment of having been brought so close to orgasm and forbidden release.
Lana’s insides were not reacting as she wanted them to. She was fascinated by what she saw and could not take it all in sufficiently. Shewantedto be shocked and outraged.
She wanted to clench her fists in rage, and instead found herself clenching them to release energy from other parts of her body, where she almostenviedthem. She found herself wondering what it must be like to be restrained with her legs open and writhe in pained pleasure as a trainer stimulated her almost to relief and then left her to wait for more. Did it ever come? Or was this just endless torture?
Most of the women she saw, while often bound tightly or restrained, like her, with magnetic cuffs, gagged, and being subjected to all manner of perverse ‘training’ seemed to not be protesting in any real way. Many, in fact, seemed to have been so thoroughly converted as to believe that they were enjoying themselves.
Lana burned with deliberate anger as soon as they left the training area and entered a more quiet hall, where she could carve out some space to think and subdue the sensations inside her body.
She would not let it happen to her. No way. She would pretend, if that’s what was required—pretend to submit, to ‘train,’ even to bounce about with a smile on her face like some of these women did. But she would never forget how much she hated the Imperial Guard, and she would fool them into thinking she had accepted her fate so that one day she could escape.
Her thighs were wet with her juices, and her pussy throbbed, and she fought hard against whatever it was inside of her that was making her feel that way.
The commander entered another corridor—wherever they were, the complex appeared to be divided into pods where certain activities were designated. This pod was a long corridor of closed doors. He stopped at one and pressed his hand to the biometric screen next to the door to open it.
Lana’s heart fell; biometric locks were not easy to overcome, nor the sort of system she could easily gain access to.
The door hissed open and a surprisingly spacious area opened up beyond. The commander led her forward by prodding her into the space. Inside the room were a bed with clean bedding, a small unit with a toilet and sink, and a closet of some kind. It was similar to a prison cell but clean and with small comforts, like the blue glow of the ambient lighting along the edge of what appeared to be a small window. The interior was warm.
“This is your sleeping pod. I must explain to you that you will return here only if you apply yourself to your training fully during training hours.”
The magnetic pull of the cuffs around her wrists and ankles released suddenly, and they became more lightweight than seemed possible. They did not, however, release from her body fully.
She brought her arms to her chest, as though modesty was of any use to her now after so much parading around the complex.
She could see through the window only blackness and stars. Her heart sank: they were at an outpost, or worse yet, a ship. That meant her return to home would be even more complicated.
“Do you remember the girl you saw tied on the table?” the commander asked, as though he were asking a casual question to a close acquaintance.
Lana turned to him, unable to keep the spirited defiance from gleaming in her eyes. She said nothing but jutted her chin slightly. Her insides moved, in spite of her desire to be fiercely defiant, with the same disquieting desire she had felt when she had seen the bound girl.
“I have asked you a question,” the commander growled, stepping forward.
Lana’s bottom burned slightly, reminding her of the consequences for defiance. Even so, she had trouble bringing herself to reply, “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl,” the commander said. “I mention her because she, like you, has a bit of difficulty...remembering... how to behave, and so she is not returning to her sleeping pod after her training. Instead, she will spend the night confined as you saw her.”
Lana thought of the girl she had seen, of the ball inside of her, of the way it protruded only enough to push against her bottom hole. The memory of the fullness she had only recently experienced inside of herself ignited the same cursed ache she had been fighting all day, and she could feel the humiliating wetness returning between her thighs.
“I know that I promised you a taste of the discipline you will receive if you are disobedient,” the commander told her. “But I think the point has been made, and I suspect that you will experience discipline for yourself, regardless of the expectations I set for you. Now, you will rest, and begin your training tomorrow. Your trainer’s assistants will arrive in nine system units. Do you have any questions for me?”
