Author's Note: This is a sequel series to Amy, Captured. To get the full experience, please read through that one first.
Hi everyone, I'm back with another... thing. I'll be trying to push these out a little faster now that I've got a run up on them, and also get Rising back into a schedule, so look out for that. Otherwise, please vote or comment, because I pay attention to every one of those, and enjoy!
Kurokami
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Amy didn't want to go down the stairs. There was something inexorably ominous about them; mostly, she thought it was the door at the bottom of them. It was a thick, heavy thing, definitely metal, though Amy couldn't peg the kind; the point was, this door was designed to be
closed
, to stay sealed shut.
To trap.
But her feet were moving of their own accord, bound to the orders of the pair of strangers that had kidnapped her and the other girls. Sally and Lorna trailed in her wake, expressions wary, as the doorway swallowed them up, one by one, until they were back into the belly of the beast. As the reptilian alien that had initially captured them pulled the door shut behind them, Amy felt like screaming; they had been
so close!
It wasn't right, they had escaped! Gotten away! Free from Sander's clutches, only to be shunted right back into captivity by the same Collar that had made them his slaves to begin with. Troublingly, the Command Collars they wore seemed to have been reprogrammed, hinting at the possibility that they weren't just going to be handed back to their original kidnappers. The unknown aspect of that was somehow worse than the prospect of being handed back to an angry Sander.
What had they gotten themselves into
now?
The floor had a gentle downward slope to it, and glowed bright enough to light the long hallway they found themselves in more than adequately; it also had the additional effect of throwing up strange shadows over the faces of everyone therein. When Amy looked back, the sheer hopelessness on Sally and Lorna's faces had been accentuated to almost absurd degrees by the dark lines now there. She knew she shared the expression.
They were heading underground.
Nothing
good happened underground.
They passed a number of branching pathways large enough to fit cars through, two abreast, before finally reaching their apparent destination; Amy couldn't tell how far they had descended, but she
could
tell it was too far. There was another door here, just as imposing as the first, and their alien guard shouldered it aside with minimal effort, ushering them through another set of hallways and then, finally, into a large circular room with a balcony ringing its second floor. And it was populated.
Some of the beings above were just passing through, moving through one passageway to another. But others stayed at the railing, looking down onto the room and its occupants, a multitude of gazes following Amy and the girls. The crowd varied, potentially more so even than the Olivan; aliens and humans of various shades, shapes and sizes lined the railing, some spaced apart, others in groups. The second floor seemed to be the main thoroughfare for the room, a meeting space for... whoever these people are.
The ground floor, by contrast, was almost deserted; guards stood by the exits to the room, but other than that the only occupant was a single man, clad in a black uniform with a complex insignia on the lapel, standing tall with his hands deep in his pockets. It was to this man that the captives were led, and commanded to stand before him, side by side. Amy kept her eyes focused on the other girls, drawing what strength she could from their presence; for once, she was not alone.
'Eyes front, Red,' The man in front said, voice strong enough to snap her attention to him immediately. With that done, he began to pace parallel to the girls, addressing not only them, but the shifting watchers above them, 'This is a balancing act, initially. There is always an element of subjectivity, especially with slaves like these, which I am assuming are escapees... We strive for maximum psychological impact, and this is going to change from person to person. You're all aware of the first step as outlined in the Guild training guidelines, but there are multiple methods for this, each with their own uses.'
He stopped, ran a hand through his mop of brown hair, 'Slaves, disrobe.'
'What the hell is going on here?' Amy spoke up finally, trying to inject as much force and volume into her voice as the man before her had. In an ideal world, this would also have had the dual purpose of erasing her fear, but she was more than aware that it failed to do this.
'Were you not informed?' The man tilted his head. 'In that case, let me be the first to give you the good news: congratulations ladies, you are now exclusive property of the Chrysanthemum Guild. And I'm not going to ask again: strip, or you will face punishment. I am
sure
you understand what that means.'
Amy did; she still had nightmares about the kinds of punishments this future could produce. The nerve-ravaging pain of Sander's old Arclight System featured prominently, but she was in no doubt that there was plenty of others. And more importantly, Sander had been compelled to hold back from outright injuring her by his fear of the Doctor...
Resigned, with fear pumping through her veins like liquid helium, Amy's hands went to the straps of her dress.
Sally looked over, took her cues from Amy and followed suit, blushing furiously. The thought was strange to Amy, but she supposed in situations like this, she took the lead; Sally and Lorna had, lucky for them, very little experience with slavery like this. Being the group's leading expert on sexual slavery struck the Scottish girl as more than a little disappointing. Soon, all three girls were stripping for their audience.
Though Amy had acquiesced to the idea of obeying here, she couldn't help the tidal wave of frustration and shame that swept over her. It was something she had to fight through, to physically force herself to continue; this was exactly as hard as her first time stripping in front of Sander. She could only move slowly, taking deep breaths and swallowing down panic, her cheeks burning as she revealed inch after inch of skin, slipping her dress down her shoulders.
'I have been told that two of these slaves had been suffering under an unrestricted psychic intrusion when they were discovered, no doubt at the hands of their previous owner,' The stranger addressed the crowd yet again, as they stood transfixed at the girls' increasing nudity. 'Now of course, the telepathic damping field around our property has cut them off from that, and this is useful: they are cut off from their Master or Mistress, locked out and alone. Having them disrobe themselves, as opposed to being forcibly stripped, helps to solidify this, in addition to deepening their humiliation through having to use their own hands.'
He glared at the girls, apparently displeased with their speed, 'Of course, that doesn't discount the use of force if their reluctance renders them inconvenient...'
The captives sped up.
Amy, and moments later Sally and Lorna too, opted to and this in an instant, like tearing off a band-aid; she simply let go, allowing her dress to drop to the floor. As she stood up straight, the shock of suddenly being naked in front of so many people hit her as hard as if it were a fresh feeling; she almost moved to cover herself, catching the impulse at the last moment and standing tall. Amy had long legs and, if she tried, an almost dignified bearing, and standing tall, even while naked, made her bear up slightly better than average.
Despite the fact that her heart still thudded in her chest, her blush creeping down her pale skin...
