A Spy from Kiran · Part 3 (3/3)
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Her high leather boots were made for running, with strong flexible soles designed to grip on almost any surface. Their heels were not a weapon. The smooth shiny leather concealed strong steel bands around her ankles, with rings that protruded conveniently on either side.
She struggled uselessly as strong hands gripped her ankles. They held her legs down and apart as they released them from the trolley, attaching her ankles to strong elastic cords that stretched taut to the base of the hanging frame. The remaining straps and clamps were released, leaving her wrists cuffed beside her neck. They lifted her upright. Her legs were tugged apart by the strong elastics, and she could not quite bring them together. She stood awkwardly at the top of the slope, between the vertical arms that descended almost to the ground on either side. Even if her arms had been free, the uprights were well out of reach, joined by a crossbar above her head.
Above her the magnetic motor was silent, its electronic controls waiting for the signal to start its journey. She shuffled her parted feet as the guards completed their adjustments. A further cord ran up to the frame from behind her neck. With a loud click the frame began to glide smoothly forwards. A moment later she felt a tug at her neck and ankles, and simultaneously the fiery slash of a whip across her bare bottom. She leapt forward, yelling in protest and struggling desperately to keep her footing, but forced to adjust her pace to the steady movement of the frame. Her unrestrained breasts jigged in an unruly motion, obstinately refusing to behave, while the soft loops in her nipples added to those distracting sensations.
Suddenly she was on her own, away from the guards who had sent her on her way. There was no sign of the hidden cameras that were her only link with the world below. She understood now the loneliness of the Mountain Run. There would be no help, and no turning back now.
Her prettily dimpled, keyhole-shaped slit peeped cheekily from its sparse blonde camouflage as she ran, while her third pliant loop hung decoratively from its scant protection. She was terrified of losing her footing. She imagined herself dangling from the yoke, helpless to regain her feet as the frame continued its journey down the mountain. If the elastic stretched enough she would be dragged screaming over the rough mountain terrain on her bare bottom, while the rocks tore and scraped her unprotected flesh. That was not a pleasant prospect, but fortunately the frame was moving slowly enough to allow her to pick her way carefully down the uneven path. Unknown to Amanda, the electronic controls would halt the frame if she lost her balance.
It was curious that her loops were not a part of her bondage, she reflected. It was not like them to leave them such tempting points of attachment accessible and yet untouched. She wondered what horrors she was to endure that would satisfy all those jaded appetites.
It gave her an odd feeling to know that she was exposed to that intimate attention. Her parted legs revealed the intimate folds of her aroused sex lips, while those soft rings jutted invitingly from her nipples, and the blonde curls of her mound. She still felt the fiery burn of the red stripes that criss-crossed her naked bottom.
Gradually she drew closer to the menacing edge of the forest. The wilderness areas of Jolan II were usually avoided. They were full of dangers for the unsuspecting explorer: weird inquisitive animals and strange plants. It was rumoured that some of them were carnivorous. But she knew nothing of the perils that awaited her on this pathway of horror. Her knees developed an obstinate weakness as she tried to keep up with the steadily advancing frame above her head, trembling with fear. As she reached the edge of the jungle the frame rose a little higher, forcing her to part her legs still wider.
She saw the tall canes gradually rising in the middle of the path ahead, but she could only shiver as they reached higher and higher, first tickling her inner thighs, then rising further until she felt the first touch prickling the flesh hidden beneath her bush. The insistent stroking continued as her inner lips rippled with pleasure and parted like the unfolding leaves of an opening blossom, to expose her glistening pink inner flesh. The canes were growing taller and firmer, and some would whiplash, striking her lips painfully, or catching her exposed clitoris to produce an exquisite agony that exceeded the worst she had experienced during her months of slave training.
The sting of their impacts grew and merged until her juicy lips were red with the fiery pain, and she twitched jerkily each time the canes flicked again at her unprotected flesh. There was no evading the torment, but gradually she felt a throbbing heat grow and expand until she was quivering with the intensity of it.
Liquid pleasure flowed like an icy fire, pervasive, filling her with its sweetness until she was intoxicated with its excess, but as unexpectedly as the row of tormenting canes had begun, they ended and cool air enveloped her burning flesh. The sting dulled with exquisite slowness as she stumbled on down the mountain, twitching as the fiery pain faded into a deep sweet and sensual tingling that distracted her from the torments that surely awaited her further down the mountain.
Some distance passed before she began again to take notice of her surroundings. Lush vegetation had begun to spread across the trail. Creepers and weird tendrils weaved a dance around her. The frame kept her moving slowly forward, its legs rising a little to avoid snagging the stout elastic cords. Amanda lifted her feet awkwardly over the creepers and roots, struggling to keep her balance.
She had been warned of the dangers when she had agreed to accept this assignment back on Kiran, less than two years ago. Now it seemed like a lifetime since those days of blissful ignorance and patriotic dreams. She had known that the assignment would be dangerous, simply because none of her predecessors had ever returned to tell the tale. All the efforts to create a new and credible identity on Lacter were wasted now that she had been discovered, and she had not even had the chance to learn anything of real value. On the contrary, she had gone through months of slave training, only to discover her weakness for sex, any kind of sex, and especially anything involving submission to restraint and punishment. She felt like a traitor. She knew that she deserved whatever lay in store, and however terrible the torment, she had an awful feeling that she was going to enjoy it.
She had spent weeks in a secret Federal Fleet training camp on Kiran, learning the skills she would need as a spy on the notorious pleasure planet, including the use of DISC (Device for Inter-Stellar Communications) systems. After early exploration ships from Earth had been lost, the public had almost forced a permanent abandonment of space exploration. The first tenuous success of DISC had brought reluctant approval for the exploration, and later the settlement of the first habitable planetary systems, including the Jolan System.
Amanda had also learned some unarmed combat. This had strengthened her confidence, although she had never been faced with a real combat on equal terms with a determined opponent. As she had discovered once she had arrived on Jolan II, confidence was far from being enough.
On Jolan II nothing was equal, especially since all the girls wore body rings that made them exceedingly vulnerable. The men were strong, practised and well equipped to deal with a rebellious girl, or simply one who had discovered the pleasures of submission and pain. Little was left to chance, she discovered and that included the psychology involved in slave training. She had not understood her compulsive addiction to the special pleasures of pain and submission, until that moment when she had yielded to capture on her only attempt at completing her mission. No amount of preparation or training could change physiology, she had learned.
Her strength had dissolved at the first sight of those guards with their Slave Catchers. She had felt a vulnerable sensuality at the thought of being their prey, knowing the sensual excitement she would enjoy at the moment of capture. The lure of submission, as always, had overcome all her will to resist.
So now, she admitted ruefully to herself, she was in a pickle. It was one of her own making, she thought, although on Jolan II anything was possible, including the manipulation of members of the Federal Fleet, who were also human and susceptible to sexual entrapment. Now Amanda realised just how sophisticated sexual entrapment had become, how willingly she herself had accepted the submissive role. And now she was treading the most fearsome path she had ever experienced.
More tall slender plants reached up to her thighs and she came closer and closer until they touched her flesh. Something clung to her and then caught. She gasped. The slender tips curled into hooks, and many of them were catching her pussy loop, pulling it down until more of them caught her with every step. The soft hooks threaded her loop and then clung. She was forced onward. The pain grew with every step as those clinging loops tugged free, one by one. The succession of soft tugs was like a juddering pull at her tender clitoris and she felt weakness overtaking her, a sweet erotic fire expanding from her core until it threatened to overwhelm her senses.
She staggered forward, gasping for breath as the pulses of pleasure grew stronger. She tore helplessly at her wrist-cuffs in a desperate struggle for freedom. It was no use. There was no mercy, and there would be no relief from that intimate torment, at least until she reached the next stage of her ordeal, and she knew that it was going to get worse, much worse. Her juices were running copiously from her sex, dripping from her inner softness and pouring down her legs in a flood, while she shuddered and gasped in a continuous orgasm that went on and on until her consciousness was a kaleidoscope of tiny fragments in continuous motion. She was sure that those terrible hooks would never let her go and the frame continued its inexorable progress, forcing her to take step after reluctant step.
At last she was free from the tormenting hooked plants, while the remorseless journey down through the jungle continued. She had heard noises, chattering and high pitched cries from the creatures of the forest. Now she was deep in the heart of the jungle and the noises were coming closer. A squealing ball of fur flashed through the air and landed on her shoulder. Tiny clawed hands found the rings that jutted from her nipples and pulled them, then clung to her breast. She felt its mouth take her nipple and bite gently. Its teeth were sharp and dug into her tender flesh. She yelled and wriggled while it continued its attentions to her other nipple, struggling uselessly to free her wrists while its dangerous attentions continued.
She was so distracted that she hardly felt the second ball of fur run up her leg and cling to her thigh. But she felt its experimental tugs at her pubic hair, its slender sharp fingers probing her crevice and then it found her ring, chattering with excitement. She cried out with terror as it grabbed the brightly coloured ring and released its grip on her thigh. An instant later it was swinging joyfully beneath her, careless of her pain. She felt her clitoris stirring, terrified at her vulnerability to that mischievous bundle of energy with its sharp claws and teeth.
As the other animal continued to nibble at her swollen nipples she was conscious of the glistening pink morsel that was peeping temptingly forth. She wriggled and cried with fear and pain as more of the inquisitive animals appeared and noisily joined in the fun, swinging from her rings and testing her tenderest flesh with their sharp little teeth, noses and little flicking tongues. She gasped for breath as they teased her mercilessly.
In spite of her fears the playful animals eventually fell free and ran chattering away into the jungle. They could not have been very hungry that day, she reflected. Perhaps they had not liked the taste of her. In any case, she was lucky. She was shaken at the suddenness of the assault, but relieved that she had escaped any serious injury. Next time a creature discovered her presence on its territory she might not be so lucky. There was something less than predictable about all of this, or so it seemed. But the entertainment would be incomplete if she failed to finish the run. That could not be the intention, she thought hopefully, realising at once that the finish was likely to be rather nasty. She would not be needed after that.
A tug at her ankles reminded Amanda to keep pace with the frame as it began to move a little more quickly down the mountain trail. Ahead a mysterious patch of bright colour drew steadily closer while the trees became gradually taller and more widely spaced, their spreading branches reaching further over the track. Beneath, a sea of prettily coloured flowers was a carpet covering the trail and a large area of the forest around. The tall tubular stems were mostly blue, with a hint of black. The flowers were large and bulbous, fleshed in pink with short yellow-coated tendrils curling upwards. As she came closer Amanda realised that it was going to be a bit of a struggle to pass through the thick sea of thigh-high plants. The frame lifted, tugging her feet a little wider. And then she was stepping over them.
The tendrils felt pleasant, tickling her lightly as they brushed between her legs, caressing her tormented, swollen lips. She felt a stirring of her flesh. A sweet itching sensation grew into a soaring, intoxicating feeling that became stronger as her underflesh gathered more of the bright yellow substance. Her legs began to feel heavy as the lethargy crept upon her. The frame gently tugged her feet always a little deeper into the sea of colourful waving heads. There was an occasional tubular red stem among the blue, moist with a transparent secretion. One brushed between her thighs. Its slippery top touched her lips lightly. She passed another and then another but every time the compulsion grew to press down onto one of those juicy stems.
Tendrils curled up around her legs and contracted, holding her motionless. She hardly noticed when the frame stopped. The slithery stem sprang firm against her soft entrance as she wriggled her hips, feeling a cool tongue emerge from the centre of its tubular stem and slip easily up into her open vagina. It rose quickly until it filled her, expanding her elastic inner flesh and forcing her to rise onto her toes. Creepers continued to advance up her legs and around her body, weaving a mesh that held her firmly in place, infiltrating her rings and stretching them out from her body. There was a gentle suction within, an extrusion into her womb while the sticky head of the plant collected yellowy powder from her outer flesh. She cried out as exquisite pleasure overwhelmed her, rubbing her lips against its sticky head as the slippery tongue continued to move inside her.
She felt abandoned when it withdrew at last. The soft tongue that had felt so vibrantly alive within her slithered back into its tube, and its tip contracted. The creepers relaxed until she was free to move again. The frame moved quickly, allowing her no rest as it took her on and out of the intoxicating beauty of the field of pleasures. A girl might wander easily alone, passing from flower to flower with pleasure her sole reward for carrying the seed of life from one to another. Amanda knew that without the insistent motion of the frame, she might never have escaped from that pleasure trap. She imagined herself alone and at the mercy of that wicked field of plants.
Amanda wondered what those bulbous stems might do to a man. Would they possess him in lips as sweet as the tongue she had known, and take his seed? She imagined how a man's thick creamy juice might be preserved, and then inoculated into a girl while she succumbed to the intoxicating pleasures so temptingly designed for a woman's fertile body. How had the plants adapted to this bizarre form of pollination without the deliberate involvement of human genetic engineers? This environment seemed too natural, too thriving to be just the result of an experiment. Perhaps there were other plants, and animals too that depended for their survival on the symbiotic exchange of genes, and this made it possible for the plants to adapt quickly to any new animal species that appeared on the planet. But Amanda had learned just how inventive the natives of Jolan II could be.
It would be impossible for man or woman to resist such seductive pleasures, so perfectly adapted to their bodies. Could there be some kind of reverse symbiosis, whereby the plants themselves alter animal genes, adapting animal species to conceive only while pollinating the plant? Amanda wondered if she had already been impregnated with the altered seed of a man. The plants seemed too well adapted to have any lesser purpose. Her botany training on Lacter had left her with more questions than answers. She wondered how her reclusive botanical researcher friend would respond if he could see this extraordinary development for himself.
Just looking at a field of prettily coloured plants would not be enough. He would want her to venture again into the field of pleasures, while he would happily record every intimate detail of her adventure. His concern for her safety would be as nothing compared to his fascination as a scientist.
A tug at her ankles reminded Amanda of her present predicament. The frame continued on down the mountain slope. She ran faster and faster, panting with the effort to keep up. It would be so easy to lose her balance. She almost panicked. Ahead the ground dropped away, but she could not see over the edge. There was a kind of indentation. The frame slowed, rising as it neared the edge, stretching Amanda's legs wider and wider until she was leaping from foot to foot in a desperate struggle to keep upright, but just as she reached the edge, her ankles continued on while her neck cord stretched and her bare bottom came down with a bump in the slippery chute.
She slid down the wet slimy chute on her back, pulled along by her parted ankles. She could see little beyond her furry nest so openly framed between her two thigh length black leather boots with her ring prettily projecting. The sides of the chute were curved, and water ran down over the slippery surface. She hurtled down the slope at a frightening speed. Ahead a structure loomed over the chute, then she was in a dark tunnel before emerging in a crowded arena full of noisy spectators. The frame rose until she was suspended upside down from her ankles, wriggling helplessly while hands gripped her limbs. Soon she was detached from the frame, and her wrists were crossed tightly behind her and roped together. Then her elbows were pulled closer and bound. She stood shakily alone. She felt incredibly vulnerable in front of the excited crowd.
Aaaah! She yelled in surprise as the whip snapped accurately at her bare bottom cheeks, squirming as she felt the heat grow into a fire that propelled her into motion across the smooth rocky floor of the arena. Everywhere there were guards, some armed with whips, while others carried those awesome Slave Catchers. It was impossible for her to pass a guard without an encouraging flick of his whip, and soon her pretty bottom was decorated with a lacing of pink stripes.
The sweetness was growing in her unprotected slit. She felt juicy and vulnerable. The guards were converging ahead, armed with the long hooked Slave Catchers. A prod at her bottom forced her closer to the line of guards ahead. She gasped with excitement as the Slave Catcher reached out and deftly snared her ring, shuddering with excitement as she felt the sweet tension at her tender clitoral ridge. She squirmed as the lucky guard led her towards a raised platform in the centre of the arena, then up the steps and onto the open stage where a gleaming blunt-tipped spike projected wickedly, in full view of the crowd.
Amanda wriggled in fright, but her desperation was to no avail. In a moment she was positioned over the spike. Fingers probed her juicy entrance, and the warm steel slid steadily up into her soft body. She continued to wriggle as the spike lifted her onto her toes, and she scrabbled helplessly for a grip on the gleaming shaft. Her struggles distracted her from the severe figures of the approaching officials.
The first to come close was Aldon. Gently he hung small weights on her body rings, first on her nipple loops and then on her lower loop. She felt the weight stretching her flesh, and almost surrendered her control, but then he whispered quietly to calm her. A severe official advanced, dressed in black and holding a long wicked looking whip. He flicked it expertly around her waist, and then delivered two accurate cuts across the already reddened flesh beneath her bottom cheeks. She wriggled in pain. There were others pinching her, then a cane slashed wickedly at the delicate undersides of her breasts. It was like being punished on a dildo pole but worse, much worse. But unexpectedly the punishment stopped. One of the officials stepped forward to speak.
"Amanda," he began, "You have been condemned as a spy. This is one of the most serious crimes in space. However you have performed well during your training. You have done well during your punishment today on the Mountain Run. In consequence, we are giving you a free choice. You are going to decide what will happen to you, but first you must reflect on what you have learned about yourself, here on Jolan II."
Amanda fidgeted as he spoke, feeling the thick shaft distending her soft flesh, pressing high up into her belly. She imagined that she could feel the prick of its tip as she settled a little further.
"If you wish, we will return you to your masters. Ships leave here every day. A free passage can be arranged to wherever you wish to go. Once you decide to leave, you can never return to the Jolan System, or your sentence will be reinstated. If you decide to return to your native planet, I should warn you that a slave such as yourself can never be happy without an understanding master. Such are rare indeed beyond the Jolan System."
Amanda's mouth opened in astonishment at this pronouncement. Could this be a trick? There was a ring of truth in what he said.
"You should also think of those who sent you here. Could they ever trust you again, now that you have learned to depend on the pleasures we have taught you? They will know how easily you could be tempted, just for a taste of the pleasures you have learned to need."
"We offer you another choice. You have completed your training as a pleasure slave. If you wish, you can make Jolan II your home. There are conditions, if you make this choice. You may never again seek to leave the Jolan System. You will be given a new name. If you are ever caught again attempting to spy or use a communicator, you will die."
"If you refuse these generous alternatives our whipmaster will see that your death is a speedy one, and your body will be returned to your native planet for the honours you deserve."
Amanda trembled at the thought of this last alternative. She knew how easily she would lose control once the whipmaster went seriously to work on her soft and precariously perched body. Her death would be neither quick nor painless, in spite of his promise.
The officials stood in silence as they waited for her to speak. It was the longest moment of her life as her experiences flashed through her mind. Her gaze shifted desperately around the arena, then rested on Aldon. He had been her tormentor, but also her loving teacher.
She knew in her heart that there was only one choice. He was right about returning to Kiran, or even Lacter. She could not undo what had happened to her here on Jolan II. She would always be a restless soul but here at least there were always new and ingenious ways to satisfy the most educated appetites. She looked at Aldon and saw the pain in his eyes. He understood her inner conflict, and her love of her home planet. Whatever decision she took, he would respect, and in the end it was his trust that made her happy that her choice was right.
A Spy from Kiran · Part 3 (3/3)
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