Chapter 2: The Journey

As dawn broke, a couple of the guards came over and pushed Helen roughly on her back. She was much too despondent to offer any resistance, or even to notice the pain very much as they took turns to pump their come into her badly torn 'private place' again.

One of the guards said, "Loading in five minutes," and the second of her morning rapists stopped playing with Helen's bruised nipples.

She was put back in her cage with a good deal of unnecessary handling, especially of her aching breasts and her very sore cunt, and taken back to the loading bay and thence to the transporter. The trip to the space ship took only a matter of minutes and the cages were loaded through an odd-looking double door on to the space ship. As there was not even room to sit down in the cage, Helen assumed that they would be let out of the cages for the journey, but nobody arrived to do that and the policebots which had loaded them all left with the transporter.

The inner door to the space ship hold was made of a grid of metal bars about six inches apart and closed first, rather like a portcullis on a castle gate in the history books. Then the outer door closed and again Helen was left in darkness.

Evidently the welfare of the prisoners was not considered important, as the space ship took off with them still in their cages, which made it rather uncomfortable, not so much from the acceleration which was no worse than a high-speed roller-coaster, but from the buffeting from side to side. However, the odd bumps and bruises from the take off did not hurt as much as the soreness in Helen's breasts and the pain between her thighs from the pounding she had received the night before and again that morning.

Some time later, in the dark she couldn't really tell how long, Helen heard what sounded like air-conditioning switch on and there was a slow movement of the air in the hold. Then an odd smell reached her and she wondered which of the prisoners could smell of cheap artificial perfume, or whether this was added to the air to hide the smell of fear and sweat which was beginning to rise from the closely confined prisoners.

Then she began to feel very drowsy, and her last thought before falling asleep was that she hoped that they would not have to spend months on the journey in the frightening darkness and the tiny cages...

When Helen woke, it was not a calm emergence from sleep such as she usually had, but an abrupt and sudden awakening as from a bad dream. Then she remembered the day before, and her arrest, conviction, and the multiple rapes, and wondered if they had been a bad dream. After all she was not in pain anywhere, although she was very hungry. When she tried to open her eyes, she realised that they were open, and a small movement convinced her that she was indeed in a cage in a darkened room, and that it was all true. What she didn't understand was that her 'private place' and breasts no longer had any pain or soreness, but she really was absolutely starving for food and drink.

Slowly the lights came on to reveal the inside of the space ship hold with many of the people in the cages waking up, though some still appeared to be asleep. There was a hubbub of talking among some of the prisoners, all of whom were absolutely racked with hunger and thirst. With horror, Helen noticed that her finger nails were at least half an inch longer than 'last night' and she realised that they had been kept asleep for months during the journey.

Cleaning sprays came on in the hold and Helen was grateful that all the grime and dried sweat, and other 'stuff', was sluiced from her body and from her smock, which was still the only garment she wore.

A policebot with a large box now entered the hold and started to give food and drink containers to the prisoners, who consumed then rapidly. The prisoners farthest from the door were naturally the last to get theirs and set up a clamour about how unfair this was.

Then Helen noticed, with a sinking heart, that a few of the prisoners were not being given any rations at all as the policebot passed their cages. She wondered if her luck could be that bad and, sure enough, she was not given anything to eat or drink. Although she thought that it would not be possible, it made her hunger and thirst even worse than before to see other people eating and drinking, however meagre their rations.

Then several porterbots of some kind came in to the hold and started to move a few of the cages out into the corridor. These seemed all to be the younger and better looking female prisoners and Helen quickly realised that these were the same ones who had not been fed. When her turn came she was moved along the corridor and into a beautifully furnished cabin where a table was laid with a meal for two people which looked and smelled delicious, making her pangs of hunger even worse. It was real food, she was sure, not the Soya-based imitations that were the staple diet of the majority of Earth's population.

Just then a handsome young man in a very smart uniform came in to the cabin and said, "Good, I'm glad you're here, Helen Carstairs. I read your details from your file during the voyage. I'm Colin, the First Mate on the ship. We land in less than 24 hours and I thought you might like a meal and a shower before then. Sleeping in a comfortable bed might also be inviting, as it's probably the last you'll have for a long time."

"Oh, thank goodness," said Helen, relieved, "at last I've found someone who believes me!"

"Believes you?" asked Colin, puzzled, "about what?"

"Why, that I didn't steal that money, of course," she replied, "Now let me out of here and let me get at that food and drink!"

"The prisoners all say that they didn't do it," came the disappointing reply, "All I'm offering you is food, drink and a comfortable bed; in return you can share the bed with me," he added, leering, "Now make your mind up quickly, or back you go with nothing to eat or drink until after we land tomorrow. Others would be glad enough of the chance."

Helen thought for a few seconds, remembered what happened when she refused to 'be nice' to the Chief, and decided to take the food and drink. Then she would persuade Colin not to make her sleep with him.

"Thanks," she said, "I am very hungry and thirsty."

"Six months under the Deep-Sleep gas does that to people," Colin said, calmly, "I'm glad you survived it, though you may not be; about ten per cent of the prisoners don't last the journey. Now, put your hands through the bars."

Mystified, and a little shocked that she had been asleep for as long as six months, Helen put her hands through the bars without a word. Colin caught each one in turn and quickly clipped the nails short.

"Don't want any accidents, do we?" he asked cheerfully.

Then he let her out of the cage, which the patiently waiting porterbot took away. As the door closed, Helen headed for the table of food.

"Wait a minute, aren't you going to say 'Thank you' first?" asked Colin.

Helen looked at him blankly, not really understanding. "Thank you," she said.

"Don't play with me," snarled Colin, "Get your clothes off and get over to the bed!"

Helen was now at the table and quickly grabbed a drink and started to eat as fast as she could.

"Oh, games is it?" said Colin, evilly.

Grabbing Helen, he quickly pulled off her smock, tearing it as he did so, and threw her on to the bed. She lay there trembling with fear as he quickly undressed and calmly unlooped the belt from his uniform tunic.

"I can see you need lessons in table manners and politeness to officers, not to mention gratitude."

With that he lashed out with the belt, catching her a glancing blow across the upper part of her breasts. Helen instinctively turned over to protect her now stinging breasts and presented Colin with a view of her superb arse, all pink and writhing with the pain and fear.

'Just asking for a firm hand, ' he thought.

He quickly dropped the belt and grabbed Helen, and with one movement, sat on the bed and put her over his knee. She was crying now, but this was nothing to her scream as he brought his open hand down hard on her arse and watched with amusement as one cheek turned red in the exact image of his hand.

It seemed to Helen that her body was burning with shame at being spanked like a child almost as much as her 'bottom' was burning with the pain of the smack. The next agony quickly came as the other cheek received the same treatment, with a similarly artistic red outline of a hand appearing to match the first.

"Please, please, don't spank me any more," she pleaded, "I'll be good and do whatever you want."

As she said this she felt a twinge of excitement at the thought of being taken again... 'No, the word is "fucked", ' she thought; perhaps she had better get used to words like that.

Colin gave her two more really hard spanks, one on each cheek, which blurred the red outlines a little, but did nothing to ease her embarrassment or pain. Then the stroked her arse, very gently, first one cheek then the other, then slid a finger down the crack towards her 'private forest'.

'He wants to touch my cunt, ' Helen thought, very deliberately using the cruder words, 'Why do I want to let him? He just spanked me and is blackmailing me, with the promise of food and drink, into sleeping with him."

To her surprise, the probing finger withdrew and Helen discovered that the spanking was not over.

Slap! — left cheek on fire again, she started to howl.

Slap! — right cheek this time.

Slap! — left.

Slap! — right.

Slap! — right again, surprising her just as she began to calm a little and get used to the rhythm of the spanking.

Helen stopped thinking then, as an increasing urge to open her legs and lift her 'bottom' — no, arse — surprised her. Colin saw the beginnings of an arching of her back, and a lift of her buttocks, and a definite widening of her thighs. His questing finger returned to the groove between her arse cheeks and found, as he had expected, that she had a sopping wet cunt. He slid his thumb straight into her cunt and touched her love bud with two fingers. A few deft tweaks and strokes and she was holding her own thighs wide open and pressing her cunt back against his hand, trying to suck his thumb further into her.

Helen could not understand what was happening to her; she was feeling confused as the pain from the spanking mixed with the pleasure of his caresses, and each seemed to increase the other. She felt her emotions rising to ... she didn't know what! Was THIS what her married friends had meant when they said sex was 'fun' and 'fantastic' and 'great'?

Suddenly Colin stood up, dropping Helen unceremoniously on the floor. "I'm hungry and we have eight hours before I go back on duty," he announced, sitting down to eat.

Helen lay on the floor, devastated that nothing more had happened; feeling her emotions subside leaving a nagging aching frustration in her ... cunt. How she wished he had taken ... fucked ... her there and then, even if it meant more spanks first ... or after ... or during...

Colin noticed her body twitching at these thoughts and was quietly satisfied that his way of getting a prison bitch hot on the last night in space had worked yet again. He was, he prided himself, quite good at spotting the hot ones when he 'inspected the cargo' every month or so on the trip, as was required by the space ship company regulations.