Chapter 6

Veen’s latent but newly discovered urge to escape, was bolstered by the arrival and announcement by two shapely guards some hours later, announcing that the pod with the second battery had been recovered, and the guards had obligingly restored it to its position within the Wasp. Though he craved the dominant attentions of Varnella, and her crushing power held him to that pleasure like an addiction to an opiate, his rational mind, or what was left of it, still fought back during those equivalents to withdrawal symptoms. The fact that the hapless Arna was as submissive as he, had him venture the possibilities of her going easily with him, should that opportunity arise; her obvious affection for the woman she’d been wrested from aboard the Atalanta, would make the task so easy, as far as her willingness was concerned. But how to make that opportunity, when Varnella’s intent was similarly direct to that outcome?

He knew that the Wasp could make good progress toward the Atlanta, with the two batteries in place, progress enough to effect an escape of pursuing craft before their absence was detected, but there could be no room for errors, as a cruel death at the hands of these women was guaranteed if they detected the merest hint of such an idea. As he and the soft Arna were led on their leashes into Candia’s plush quarters, Veen watched the broad buttocks and thick thighs of Hoona before him, the raw edge of her sadism sated for now, having recently dispatched so many males, and had the perversely erotic thought on how being caught out and duly executed by the magnificent woman, would be a pleasure in itself. Even though he’d shot his mess so recently, the feeling of being taken into the very heart of the hub of feminine dominance, he already owned and leashed by Varnella, on a planet hostile to masculinity, and now within the very pinnacle of that dominance, had him longing to spurt again lustily. He would be treated to that blissful pleasure very shortly.

There’d be no chance of escape that evening, but Veen’s intimacy with Arna, would be taken to another level, on the women deciding that their discussion was not for the ears of slaves or pets. Veen took in the elegant surroundings and logged them in his mind as quickly as he could, noting how open the silk laden quarters were to entry and exit; no-one would dare enter this inner sanctum without permission, such was the absolute and despotic rule of Candia, and having long disposed of any internal plotters - the ruling male dynasty and any element of their support having long been shown the pleasure of execution by womanhood - there was no need for security within the walls of the citadel, so absolute was that power. His eyes took in the vistas through the many portals of entry, and his heart leapt on seeing the tail end of the Wasp, set down on a square amongst other vessels, some five hundred yards off.

He heard the sniggers of the women, and felt himself tugged toward a circular bed, recessed in a pit to have it level with the floor, Veen guessing it was used for display purposes. Candia tugged Arna in the same direction, and two haughty maids took charge of the two, a third smiling as she walked over to the two leashed pets, with what looked like shiny latex sheeting, draped luxuriously from her arms. Candia smiled down at Arna, who panted, obviously excited by the sight.

“Yes my sweet, one of your favourite ways to spend a night in bondage...” She grinned wickedly over at Been, then looked back down to Arna, stroking her pert buttocks, as the girl gazed at the latex, rippling provocatively as the maid lay it on the bed.

“ ... as you can see, it’s larger than your usual ... you’ll not need to wriggle as much in order to bring yourself off tonight, my sweet ... you’re to have company who’ll do that for you.” Veen’s erection boned rigid as he was laid on his side on the spread latex, by the deft assistance of the amiable maids, and the soft flesh of Arna was laid with her back to him, he in disbelief at being awarded such comfort, as the girl willingly nestled her soft body tight against his. The bitchy Hoona sneered as she watched the delighted face on the girl.

“You do spoil her Candia, I do hope you’ll whip her in the morning ... and him too.” Her sadism was appeased a little, as she watched the two being gagged, and their limbs and torsos being bound together with tight but flexible bands of latex; they’d not be allowed to communicate verbally during their bonding, but the grunts and sighs would be welcomed by one and all. Hoona grinned at Candia as she watched Veen tense his buttocks involuntarily; the stimulation of his cock between the soft girl’s thighs bringing him close to shooting his mess, even before the two were enveloped in the tight outer skin of latex.

“He’ll fuck her anus red raw, Candia ... and I’m betting he’ll manage to seed her too ... she’ll be nice and bloated in four or five months time.” Candia laughed, and enjoyed humiliating Varnella’s pet, before the maids smiled with satisfaction in zipping up the tight latex cocoon.

“He’s not that well endowed ... his little cock will find a nice home in her arsehole alright, but he’ll be frustrated most wonderfully in trying to access her cunt ... he’ll seed the latex in perfect bliss though.” Veen was already trying, instinctively, to have his cock home on in the soft cleft of her warm slot, and Arna’s equally instinctive and more than obliging movements in trying to aid it, just resulted in her pert backside keeping the nub of his bell just short of its desired haven, the latex bindings of their limbs together, having been expertly fashioned to enforce just such a frustration. Veen could just hear the dull sound of laughter from the women, as the two wriggled in the sack for their spiteful entertainment, and the thin band of elastic gauze which wrapped the faces of the two heads in their singular confinement, made respiration a task in itself; the snorting efforts of the two increasing that vindictive mirth, which decreased in volume as they moved away to indulge in their discussion.

Veen’s erection pulsed wildly as he sniffed at the scent of her blonde hair, and felt the girl’s eagerness to come, as she squeezed her soft back and cheeks against his belly and groin, the vacuum it created as they began to perspire, the flesh sliding and sticking together, sending Arna’s submissive desires into a lusty arousal at being held to obedience by a male; though his obedience was as equally demanded by those external feminine forces, locked in their cocoon, her submission to him invalidated that of the world outside. And as Veen’s probing frustrating in wriggling found his cock slip back up to the warmth of her anus, the arching of her back and the softly mumbled sigh through her gag, told him she lusted for penetration there.

Veen made a mumbled brown of his own, as he tensed and eased the boning tip of his bell into the tightness of her willing pucker, the sensation exquisite. The tightness of the latex at his balls pained him, but served to aid the adhesion of the lushly flexible skin against the prominent silhouette of her cunt, the tight grip stimulating her needy clitoris as the movement of Veen’s buttocks as he eased his cock back and forth, stretching and pulling to excite her. Arna’s supreme pleasure at being fucked anally in bondage, the wondrous stimulation of having a stiff cock thrusting deep into her in its urgent need for ejaculation, had her sink to the euphoric depths of submission as she moaned in the ecstasy of orgasm. Veen’s arms, already held tight around her torso, and entwined with hers, squeezed her tightly as her plaintive whimpers of surrender took him over the edge, his ecstacy matching hers as his cock spurted it’s creamy offering deep inside her rectum, the pure bliss taking his breath away as his mind was indulged by his own erotic cross blend of pleasures; being bound and helpless, yet imposing his will upon an even softer captive.

The two shuddered and tensed together, their groaning pirouette on the circular bed distracting the women from their conversation briefly, Candia in particular, amused by the obvious anal intrusion that her soft pet was so willingly suffering. She grinned at Varnella, whose face showed that she was not quite so at ease with her male’s further confirmation that he still retained what most male slaves at Blackhall didn’t; the despotic matriarch content to see him waste his seed without the rigours applied by the redhead.

“There! ... his first delivery ... she’ll receive at least two more before they sleep, I’ll wager ... you really should have him forfeit his balls for such a wanton display, I’ll gladly be of service in seeing to it myself, should it cross your mind.” Varnella was very careful with her response, she couldn’t let her and Hoona know she had any real affection for her pet, though the attentions he was showing Arna did have his castration cross her mind.

“If he were to lose his balls, he’d be of little use to me as a novelty ... you can see from his enthusiasm, just how they rule his existence ... If I were to cut them off, I might as well cut his head off too, but I need him to pilot my ship.” Candia simply shrugged, and Varnella was glad to return to their prior conversation.

Veen did indeed grace Arna, and the latex, with his semen again, the pleasure of coming between her thighs, as rewarding as his blissful expulsion into the tight warmth of her anus, the two bonding closer with every minute of their enforced intimacy. Arna received the jets of his semen to the lower reaches of her cleft, with a passionate sigh, her cunt teased by the restricted advance of his bell, but deeply gratified at feeling the urgent spurts from it, the slippery emissions lubricating the grip of the latex at her clitoris wonderfully. There was no chance of Veen’s escape that night, and as he squeezed and caressed his petite blonde partner with growing affection, being anywhere else was the last thing on his mind.

Drusa’s cunt had bulged its profile in her tight leather leggings, from the moment she’d unleashed her whip upon the team of eunuchs, her arousal always supreme when on the hunt for a non-neutered male; the thought of being the one to relieve the prey of his balls, always priming the erotic edge of her sadism. The full bouquet and taste of that hot and moist cunt, would be savoured by that prey before castration, if she were the successful captor. Her whimsical and erotic visions were put on hold, however, when she and the others dismounted their slave drawn chariots at the edge of the treeline, to take up the hunt on foot. The tracking device clicked on, for its intermittent broadcast, amazing Drusa with its information.

“I can’t believe it Derma, he’s made it across the gorge ... how?” The similarly leather clad dominant, rubbed her crotch, the idea that their prey showed such vigour in keeping them at bay, just showed how much he wanted to keep those balls, and would provide good sport in hunting him.

“Academic, Drusa dear, he’s managed it ... so we’ll need to to travel further up the treeline till the crest drops, and ford the river there.” The already half exhausted eunuchs, cowered as the women remounted their chariots, and received an extra helping of the whip, served with spiteful enthusiasm by their mistresses.

Even before the women reached a point where they could dismount to make their river crossing, the next tracker notification came in; the women smiling as they saw the short progress that had been made since the last. It indicated the progress of a wearying male on foot perfectly, though the field hog would make so much more haste, and keep itself hidden, as soon as the noise or leathery perfumes of womanhood were detected by it. At a mile and a half to the west of the women, the field hog munched its way through the dancing sage, whilst Trellis was now three and a half miles to the east of the women, and being taken further away all the time, as the solar cart plunged deeper into the depths of the forest.

Trellis was brought ever closer to involuntary ejaculation as the cart bumped and rolled him on his erect cock, the occasional lusty smirks from the turned heads of the pretty younger women, not helping his situation; his eyes then taken to their pert bottoms which they wiggled and poked provocatively at him, the promise of mischief at their hands alone, had him nearly losing his seed, and the wonder of what comforts the broader buttocks of the mature woman would bring, had him feel the enforced stimulation of his hogtied position to the full. It was with some relief, yet some disappointment, when the cart was stopped for a moment, while the girls wrapped and tied his naked form in sackcloth, mindful that the buffeting might score his flesh ... and, as he was to learn, add a little extra excitement to his introduction at their destiny.

The cart dipped down an embankment, and into a large open clearing amid the dense forestation, a horn blowing from atop a huge circular stockade within it, as the cart approached, announcing to all inside that one of their number was returning from a foray, beyond the oaken fortress walls of their habitat. Two huge gates swung open, then closed again as the cart was consumed within the haven.

As soon as the cart swept in, the two younger girls leapt to the back of it, and hoisted Trellis on to his knees, which was a tad painful, given his binding. He was soon distracted from that irritation as the two girls cried out gleefully to the plethora of inhabitants, gathering close to watch the cart trundle through, Trellis noting that the vast majority were female.

“Look what we’ve caught ... a male ... and he’s intact!” Trellis saw the unmistakable hunger and lewd excitement in their eyes, despite most trying to keep a dignified approach as they neared the cart with genuine curiosity, edged with a certain lust. Trellis was glad to see that none of them looked quite as warrior-like as his previous captors, though even the more mature ones were in very good physical shape, as per the woman at the head of the cart; it was obvious that they indulged in the work alongside the eunuchs he’d heard mention of, keeping them fit in their duties and benefitting from the fruits of those labours. He also noted there were very few women as young as the two girls upon the cart. A brash red headed woman eyed him with a lusty scrutiny, then turned her attention to the woman who’d borne him there.

“Let’s see some proof he’s intact, Marshanna ... we all know how your girls like a good prank!” Another blonde haired woman, whose ample breasts were barely covered by her thin cheesecloth shawl, poked her nipples excitedly as she licked her lips.

“Yes ... strip him ... let’s see what he’s got!” Marshanna applied the brake as the cart trundled under the shade of a large deciduous tree, left standing in the middle of what was obviously a communal green, to remind the inhabitants to be grateful of the seclusion that its fellow trees provided them, beyond the stockade. She nodded to the two excited girls, who wasted no time in loosening the tie between his wrists and ankles, allowing him a little more comfort, then as one began to untie the sackcloths, the other lifted her dress, and bent with her pert arsehole and moist cunt to his face, ensuring the scent had Trellis give a good show. Marshanna was quite aware of what the girl intended, but chided her amidst the bawdy laughter from the increasingly large female audience.

“Meena! a little decorum, please!” The nubile girl grinned cheekily at her, knowing it would probably earn her a spanking later, but with a fertile male likely to witness it ... and likely to service her vigorously on witnessing it, the cheekiness in her grin warmed to that possibility as she edged away and assisted with the strip. Trellis’s cock obliged her intention with his inhalations of the delicious scents, and as the sackcloths were whisked away, his manhood stood erect for feminine scrutiny. As he quivered and poked his cock high, delighted gasps and murmurings rippled through the crowd, the buxom redhead and the blonde woman leaned over the the cart, eager to get a closer look at the sack below his standing pole, the redhead sighing as she cupped his balls.

“I take it you’ll make sure he’s fairly distributed Marshanna ... we’re sorely in need of replenishing our stock ... and there’s always the benefit of a little sensual comfort for women of our age too.” The latter part of her statement received concurring murmurings and lewd laughter from those women past their prime in delivering offspring; they’d more than welcome demonstrating to their younger charges, just how copulation was to be thoroughly enjoyed.