As the hours go by you find yourself unable to sleep. Instead, you stand in your compartment like a log, your body kept in place by the straps, your hands rendered useless by the armbinder. You try to get out of the straps every now and then. But your efforts are nothing but laughable. Even if you could get out, the hood and the armbinder would make sure you couldn't get further. That much you acknowledge.
At a sudden, you can hear footsteps. You tense your body in its bondage, and you wait. Unluckily (or perhaps luckily?) the man stops in front of you. He starts caressing your body with one hand, reaching to your breasts under the strap with the other, you moaning from the pleasure as a consequence.
"I can see why the captain is excited about you, slut," the man says. He removes his hands from your body, then the two dildos are removed from your openings, a wanting feeling left in their wake. One after the other the straps are unlocked. Your body at least partially free from its bondage.
At first you are relieved... Then you realize it is already tomorrow. The day when the captain is going to take your virginity. You can do nothing about it. But somehow this makes you want it even more.
A tug on your leash, and you realize that you are being led. The hood still firmly in place. You follow the man for a couple of minutes, stumbling in the high stilettos, then you can hear a hissing sound, and something tells you that you are in the captain's cabin.
"Captain Jennifer Valentine, welcome," you shudder as you hear his voice.
You can feel the hood unlocked at the back of your neck. Which surprises you. Then another shock comes, as the armbinder is removed. Your limbs now free and your eyes uncovered.
You turn your gaze to the captain, a well built man, but unarmed. Then you look at the guard behind you, who is tall, yet slim, but he has a plasma rifle. Two men against one woman. The odds one might call uneven. But it could be called a fight nevertheless... But you don't have what it takes to attack them.
"Please, take a seat," the captain says, pointing to a bondage bench that was placed next to his bed while you were away, one part at the center and two lower parts on the sides.
You gulp, and you glance at the two men again. But you don't have what it takes. You always thought that when the time comes you would. But you just don't. Instead, you do the painful thing, and after taking a deep breath, you climb up the bondage bench, placing your body chest down on its surface. You place your arms in front of you. You place your legs on the lower parts.
"Excellent," the captain says. He starts strapping you in. Your wrists are first, strapped together in front of you in the upper portion, then your ankles and thighs are next, followed by your back, hips and waist. And before you know it your little freedom has ended.
"Fascinating place this your Sol of yours is, Ms. Valentine," the captain says. From the corner of your eyes you can see him raise a candle from one of the desks. "But tell me, do you seriously think you could win a war against the Coalition?" he asks.
"We will kick them to a new dimension if needed," you answer after the guard unlocked your ballgag.
"Is that really so?" he asks. The first droplets of wax land on your naked back. Your body tense, you grit your teeth from the pain, the man continuing to speak as you endure. "Isn't it all about the shipyards?" he asks.
Additional droplets land on your back, and you keep gritting your teeth, your body moved in just about any way the straps make possible. What you find that the worst is the anticipation, and not the actual pain. But pain is pain. And somehow the entire thing excites you.
"Don't get me wrong. A mothball fleet is a good thing to have. But old ships are old ships, and they are not getting any newer," the captain says.
Another droplets land on your back. You grit your teeth from the pain. But you have to admit, the captain has a point. If a war breaks out between the two factions, Earth has just a couple star systems. The Coalition has hundreds. It is a needle in a haystack in both cases, where a shipyard could be hidden anywhere, even at the clouds of a gas giant or the inside of an asteroid. But one of the haystacks is just bigger, and no shipyard could be hidden forever if one expects it to operate.
What's untrue is that a mothball ship can't be useful. In fact the vast majority of the mothball fleet is constantly refitted and kept ready for action. The Coalition entirely unaware. But an older ship is an older ship, and the design was discarded for a reason. You also know from classified data that the Coalition Fleet is still bigger. The arithmetic rendered clear as a consequence.
Of course, Sol has plenty of resources. You know that. In fact, in terms of puny humans conquests, one could even call them infinite. And even if all you have in terms of manpower is a couple hundred grandmas in a wheelchair, with proper automation you can still make any fleet formidable. But if you don't have ships, then you don't have ships. And that's all there is to it.
"Or is there anything you can say against it?" the captain asks.
"No, Master," you answer, remembering your place.
