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Hey there, I decided to write a new story. Not sure how much I'll continue my other one.
This one is also femdom, because of course it is. But this time it's in space.
I originally planned for this section to just be the beginning of chapter 1, but part-way through I decided to switch from 3rd to 1st person, and I didn't feel like going back to edit it all. So instead here it is as a bit of a prologue.
In this introduction it's a little dark, but things get better and nothing sexual happens, just sets up the plot and protagonist. I'll be releasing the next part soon.
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Man, this was so fucked up. SO fucked up....
Seth had taken a job to get off his miserable rock of a planet. He had wanted to get out of there for years, and the poor, industrial planet covered in sulfur clouds and domed cities had recently begun introducing authoritarian measures to stop citizens from leaving. They had announced they'd go into effect soon, so naturally everyone tried to rush to leave before then, himself included.
Most ways off the planet weren't "lawful," according to the aristocracy. Being raised on such a poorly managed, authoritarian planet, Seth had naturally developed strongly libertarian views, and so he had virtually no scruples when he heard about a smuggling ship. It was for some common, unskilled guard work, far below his regular status as a recent graduate. However his pride was nowhere near as great as his desire to get off-world, so he happily accepted the job working on a freighter hauling contraband.
He didn't ask what they were hauling, he didn't really care. He assumed it was likely guns, drugs, or maybe even just untaxed cigarettes. Canijar, his home, was an industrial planet, so precious metals were also an option. He really didn't care. People had a right to defend themselves, to do what they want with their bodies, and those taxes probably funded police brutality anyway. He was sure he could sleep soundly at night despite the relatively dishonorable work.
Unfortunately, it turned out to be much, much worse than any guns, drugs, cigars, or gold.
The ship was once a small prison ship, and it was not filled with slaves, almost all of them female. When he had first realized what was actually on the ship, he had really hoped it was just a bad dream, but it wasn't. He didn't have an option to back out either: he was already on the ship, in space, and accepted the job with hardened criminals, and if he tried to quit or something they'd probably shoot and space him.
These were no classy mobsters he was working with, but scrappers, junkies, and punks of the lowest variety. Their "uniforms" were totally irregular, often consisting of personalized "warpaint," or primitive, cobbled together armor. The armor wasn't really for protecting them from the girls, they were all naked and collared in cells, but from each other. These ruffians frequently drank and stabbed each other over pointless bullshit, no matter how much the captain punished them for it.
Seth didn't fit in so well. He has more refined mannerisms and larger vocabulary than almost any of the miscreants around him, most of them having probably never finished a book in their life, but his empathy for the girls is what really set him apart. Lots of the guards didn't care and often groped or molested them in some other way, though not too bad as per the captain's orders, as that would be "damaging the goods." The idea that any of his fellow crew were content with, or even enjoyed, being traffickers really disturbed him, and how someone like the captain could plan this out reminded him about how dark people could be just for some money and sex. It had been the first experience in his life that ever made him feel embarrassed or ashamed just for being male.
He ended up less as a guard and more of a stealth-caretaker. He was deployed in C-block, and had a few regular shifts. Of course when he was on shift he never hurt the girls, who were often cold and naked, huddling in their cells. There must have been at least a few hundred on the ship, but he was only able to help in his own small section. He stuck out like a sore-thumb as he enforced the technically-existant rule to not rape the prisoners on off-duty guards. He even would sometimes sneak them extra portions of food, get a few of them rags for clothes, and even managed to help a few with, uh, feminine hygiene....
The prisoners always seemed to be always silent, but he learned that was because they were punished if they were heard speaking to each other. They did speak to each other when no guards were around, and as it became obvious to an increasing number of them that he wouldn't report them, they even started talking with him. There was one cell in particular, Cell C-452, where he had managed to become rather acquainted with the girls. It was very awkward at first, for many obvious reasons, but eventually they warmed up to each other, and he had even told him of his own accidental stumbling into the ship.
He was running there now, actually, about as fast as he could paper in hand. He was panting when he got to the end of the dark, cold hallway, and began mashing the button to call the elevator. He looked at the number. Fuck, it was several stories up, it would be faster to take the stairs. He took the door to the side and began dashing down the stairwell as he safely could, before bursting out of a door near the bottom.
There he was: C-block. He was very close now, and luckily there was no screaming. He just needed to run a little farther, then turn a corner and he saw his target.
"Rolly, Quartermaster Jim wants to see you!" Seth announced with some of the last air in his lungs.
"What?"
Rolly was a real piece of shit. Probably one of the worst people Seth ever met, and ever would meet. Unfortunately, their guard schedules caused them to frequently cross paths, and they were quite opposite from one another. Right now, Rolly had just started his guard shift, and he had just been menacingly appraising the women of Cell C-452
"Quartermaster Jim...," he panted, holding out a green paper, "wants to see you about the busted pipes." Rolly stepped towards him, and for a moment he really feared Rolly was about to break his nose. He was a lot bigger than Seth, and unlike the pudgy student, Rolly was tall, mean, and made of muscle.
"You're the one who busted the pipes!" Rolly accused, finger pointing.
"I'm the one who found the pipes busted, right after your shift! It's not me calling you, it's the quartermaster. Why don't you take it up with him?" he finally managed to catch his breath, and steel himself just long enough to point a stand-offish look at the thug.
He simply grumbled something and snatched the paper from my hand before looking over it.
"Need any help with that?" Seth mocked his slow reading.
"You watch yourself, Seth. We've still got almost 2 months left on this ship, and you're already on everyone's shitlist, aside from Jim apparently, and you can't protect these girls forever."
"Why are you still here? The quartermaster is waiting, and I'm your replacement shift."
Rolly just glared at him, then shot a look at the naked girls in the cell. "I'll be back," he said with a cruel smirk, then walked off, shouldering past Seth. Once he was out of sight, Seth took a deep breath of relief. Still catching his breath, he slowly strolled over to the cell bars.
