Agent in Distress

Dear readers,

Thank you again for your wonderful support and comments as you go along on this journey with me. A couple of your suggestions have made it into this chapter - I really do take your comments to heart. I'm sorry that real life keeps intruding and keeps me from writing, so please bear with me at the slow pace of updates. But I'm glad to know that reader feedback has helped me make this story far better than it would have been if I'd written it completely before posting. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, as I try my hand at an unfamiliar theme (which I won't spoil for you). Please, please keep the comments coming, I love them all!

Tanuki

Chapter 11

After the show was over, helpers came to take away the slave girls, and the magistrate's helpers got Lana to her feet, giving her a moment to stretch out her stiff legs. Lana shook her legs one at a time, which brought feeling back to them. But she could do nothing about the aching need that made standing slightly uncomfortable. Watching other captive women being pleasured, some to orgasm, had left her feeling overheated and aching. She knew she had to keep her wits about her, and not to give in, but their training methods seemed just so effective, she didn't know how to resist them. The magistrate noticed she'd stopped stretching, so he guided her out of the tent.

"You must be tired and hungry," he said. "And you've been such a good girl, I'll arrange a short break for you." Lana looked at him suspiciously, and the man smiled. "I know what you're thinking, but as I've said before, we do not treat our pleasure slaves like beasts of burden. Your primary purpose is to be pleasing to your Masters, and you can't very well be pleasing if you are exhausted and starving, can you?"

Lana nodded. There was a certain twisted logic to his words. She didn't want to argue, for a break sounded very appealing. She let him guide her out of the courtyard and through a new door, on the opposite side they'd entered from. The first open room they reached was their destination it seemed, for the magistrate guided her inside. It was another training room, with racks, a wooden horse, and chests along the walls, no doubt containing more torture implements. She still wasn't used to the sight of such things, and it gave her a slight chill. In fact, she hoped she never got used to the sight of the slaver's toys. Lana noticed in this room that everything seemed to have a soft edge to it. The rack was padded, as was the horse, as if designed to be comfortable rather than painful. There was a bed that looked quite soft and lush in fact. She hoped that her reward wouldn't involve the bed.

There were a couple different helpers standing at attention, and when the magistrate guided her to a low wooden platform, they came over and began to untie her bindings. "Let her breathe a little, just . . . tie off her collar, she'll behave." One of the helpers went to a wall cabinet and returned with a metal chain, which he connected to her collar, then stood nearby, holding the leather handle on the other end. Lana hated the feel of the collar, like she was some animal, but it was worse when someone had a leash attached to it. The first helper finished undoing her bindings, and Lana, grateful to have her hands free again, rubbed her arms where they'd been bound, frowning at the red marks on her forearms. "Fetch her some water," said the magistrate. "And some fresh bread."

Ten minutes later, Lana was feeling better after eating the surprisingly tasty bread and drinking her fill of water. Her debilitating arousal had subsided somewhat, and she thought maybe she could make it through the day. The magistrate returned, framed by his two helpers, and immediately smiled. "Ah, my dear, you look refreshed! We can't have you losing weight and your lush curves along with it, now can we? Good! Are you ready to resume your training?"

Lana grimaced, but said nothing. "Oh, come now," said the magistrate, placing his arm around her shoulders. "You're learned so much, and come so far. You should be proud of the way you've bravely overcome your childish inhibitions!"

Lana shook her head. She did not want him to praise her! But the magistrate did not seem to notice her conflicted emotions. "You are shy, I understand. Let's go, Miss Torina," he said, unhooking her collar and guiding her from the room. "You show great promise, so I think you are ready for more training. Come, now that you're refreshed let's get you going." Lana walked with trepidation back in the direction of the outdoor courtyard, and she dreaded going back there. But instead, the magistrate led her to an interior door, and stopped her just outside of it, turning to speak to her.

"Now, my dear, let's go over a few things," he started. "You saw in the courtyard the wide variety of methods we have to discipline our slaves; I believe I don't have to tell you that your time here will go easier if you are respectful and obedient?"

Lana nodded quickly. The courtyard had indeed made quite an impression on her. Swallowing her pride seemed like a relatively palatable choice given her options.

"And I trust you don't want me to send you to those two young men, Henri and Varga, for some disciplinary training?"

Lana paled. "Please, Master," she pleaded, remembering how to address him properly. "Anything but that!"

"Good," said the magistrate. "Now I'm going to leave you in capable hands for a while, but I want you to remember your training. Speak only if spoken to by your masters. Always address them as 'master' and follow their commands without hesitation. And remember your posture at all times. Can you do that?"

Lana nodded with a gulp. Things that had seemed to repugnant a few days ago, now seemed relatively minor in comparison to what they could and would do to her if she misbehaved.

"Excellent!" said the magistrate. He then turned to open the door, guiding her inside. It was another training room, not unlike the one she'd seen before. It was divided into four sections it seemed, and the magistrate guided her to one corner where a row of six girls knelt before several men in the slaver uniforms. One of them was lecturing the kneeling slaves, in the now familiar but still shocking mantra she'd heard from various sources here on Dellune. The magistrate quietly guided her to the end of the line, and gently pushed her down to a kneeling position.

"You'll spend the rest of the day here, my dear," he whispered in her ear. "When your day is done, I'll come fetch you and take you to your sleeping quarters." Then he patted her on the shoulder and she watched him stand and exit out the door they'd come in. To her relief, the instructors didn't seem to single her out, and she seamlessly joined the class, her experiences of the day motivating her to keep quiet and acquiesce to their commands.

Over the next few hours, Lana and the other new slaves learned to refine their postures, how to bow and kneel, and even how to serve tables, which she noted was not much different than what she'd done at Lord Khan's castle. Fortunately there were no male customers to practice on, but they were informed that they must quietly endure whatever such customers deigned to do, while executing their duties. "Don't worry, later on you'll get to practice on some real men of Wight, and they'll be sure to test your ability to perform your tasks while distracted," said the instructor with a suggestive look at his kneeling subjects.

Later on, they were given instructions on the daily life of a slave, how they must keep themselves clean and fresh, bathing between uses if possible, since the men did not want the scent of another man on their slaves' bodies. The instructors brought out several sets of slave garments, and instructed the girls on how to wear them. Lana found this training particularly challenging, for the slave garb invariably was designed to titillate and tease, rather than to cover their bodies. Lana found some of the outfits less preferable to nakedness. Having to dress and undress in the lewd outfits would have been unbearable, except that the trainers themselves seemed little interested in ogling their trainees, and seemed preoccupied with shouting and disciplining the slow students. Nor did the trainers seem particularly interested in touching the girls, in sharp contrast to her training up to that point. Lana didn't question the reason for that, she was simply grateful for the lack of attention.

In fact, the hardest part of this particular training was for Lana to keep her sense of self. The constant barrage of forced servitude, and the way they criticized expressions of independence, and praised abject subservience, began to weigh on her psyche. Lana very much wanted to obey, to avoid the implied punishments. More than once, an instructor had described what they would do to her if she failed to perform to their liking, and that was strong motivation. At the same time, Lana gradually found herself struggling to maintain her inner rebellion, while outwardly being a good obedient slave. It was a balancing act that required constant concentration and effort. Over time, she found herself getting a little too comfortable, obeying too quickly and eagerly for her own liking. The constant fight to balance her inner and outer self became exhausting and confusing. It was for that reason, when she finally saw the magistrate enter the room, she felt an enormous relief, and she smiled at him, despite herself. He returned her smile before going to speak quietly with the head instructor. Other handlers entered the room to take the slave girls away one by one, and then the magistrate, himself grinning proudly, came to her side excitedly. Without thinking, she'd waited patiently in her resting posture, kneeling with her thighs spread wide. It was a position she'd have loathed to take just days before, but now, she was simply too tired to break the rules.

"Little slave," he said, getting her to her feet. "They tell me you were an outstanding pupil. They think you will be a graceful and obedient slave!"

Lana gave a half smile as she felt a jolt of pride, before she quickly realized the absurdity of that emotion and tried to suppress the unwanted feelings. She cursed herself for letting their twisted training get through to her. The magistrate must have sensed her conflict.

"Pardon, my dear, I did not mean to embarrass you," he said softly. "Do not fret, it is simply natural for a female to take pride in her own grace and beauty, especially a Calambrian. You should not fight what you are, my dear."

"I'm not a slave!" protested Lana softly. She'd almost said she wasn't Calambrian, and she reminded herself to stay in character at all times.

The magistrate was looking at her with a grin. "Of course you are, dear." Then he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. "Did you not find the obedience training to be arousing? Your nakedness allows me to see your state easily, you know."

Lana gasped, suddenly using her arms to cover herself. He was not wrong, her body still burned, more than ever. But it was the fruit, and the salve, or lack of it, not some inner need for obedience.

"Would you like me to ease your suffering, little slave?" he whispered, looking at her intently.

"No!" Lana whispered quickly. But it was too late, her body flamed high at the thought of the enigmatic magistrate touching her.

The man chuckled, raising a hand to gently stroke the outside of her breast, in a way that made her shiver. "Poor girl, the mind wants one thing, the body another. My job is to make bring those two divergent roads together." His single finger continued to tease the sensitive swell of her breast below her armpit, and Lana quickly slipped away, unable to bear the sensations. She knew he'd probably summon the helpers to put her in bondage again, but he simply smiled and shook his head. "My dear girl, I am simply offering to make your night's sleep more comfortable." When Lana looked at him in confusion, he sighed. "In your agitated state, you might find restful sleep to be . . . challenging."

Lana looked at him carefully. "What are you proposing?" she offered, tentatively. It didn't hurt to ask, she thought, to make sure she understood his meaning. Then she jumped when he swiftly moved in close, encircling an arm around her waist. His closeness made her acutely aware of her dormant arousal, threatening to spill over and flood her mind at the slightest provocation. She held still, trembling slightly as the fingers of his free hand stroked her firm belly, moving upwards toward her navel.

"I could simply use a finger, or two, to give you what you so clearly need, my dear," he explained. Then his hand drifted downward, gently stroking the string that passed between her legs. Lana's mouth fell open and she drew in a sharp breath at the riveting sensations. It felt so good, it would be so easy to give in, to let him pleasure her, perhaps even to orgasm. That enticing thought delayed her response a few seconds, during which his gently stroking finger made her spasm in his arms. Though his finger wasn't contacting her flesh directly, it sent tiny sensual vibrations through the string, which she found captivating.

"No, don't!" she murmured softly, not really moving to escape, though her hips were trembling to his touch. When he continued stroking the now slickened string, she moved her hand to his, grasping it and pulling it away.

"Please your hands behind your back," said the magistrate, softly but with a commanding tone. When Lana hesitated, he added, "it will take but a moment to attach bindings for you, it's your choice. Many slave girls take comfort in being bound; as freedom is too intimidating."

Lana paused, looking at him, but seeing no sign he was teasing her. "That's . . . absurd!" she said, softly. "You . . . actually believe that nonsense, we want to be bound?" There were still others in the large training area, and by keeping her voice low, it gave her some sense of privacy. "Master?" she added, remembering her training. The magistrate was lenient with her, for which she was grateful, but she had best not press her luck.

"I do love hearing you call me Master," the magistrate said with a grin. Then he simply shrugged. "It is no great mystery, my dear. With freedom comes a sometimes bewildering array of choices, with consequences, and risk of failure or embarrassment. A bound slave is relieved of all those uncomfortable outcomes, and is free to focus entirely on her own pleasure. And that of her master of course." He looked at Lana and saw her sputtering indignantly. With a sigh, he pulled out a set of leather manacles from his rear pocket. "I see I must show you, as always. Here, give me your hand," he commanded, taking her right wrist. Lana reluctantly surrendered her wrist. She realized it was possible, perhaps, that some girls felt that way. But she certainly wasn't one of them, as the magistrate would realize.

She watched as he placed her wrist in the leather loop, then he then took her other wrist and fastened it to the first. Then he lifted both her hands over her head, and then down to fasten to the back of her slave collar. Her hands were now facing each other behind her neck, with her elbows sticking out before her. It was a new way of restraining her hands, but she didn't find any revelation in the position. "Assume your slave position," he commanded suddenly. After training on it all day, Lana immediately spread her thighs where she knelt, and straightened her back without so much as a thought. The only difference was now her hands were bound behind her neck rather than resting on her thighs, or bound behind her back. "Very good, you've really learned well today!" purred the magistrate, looking down at her out-thrust breasts and wide tanned thighs and smiling. Lana blushed in embarrassment at his compliment, and she scolded herself for jumping at his every command like an eager slave. She didn't want to be a good slave; she didn't want the training, but the constant threat of much more terrible humiliations kept her pride in check. At any moment, she knew she could 'unlearn' all the shameful postures and saying "master" to the men, but being given to a dozen men to use, that would scar her for life.

"Now then, where were we . . ." said the magistrate said softly, his hand moving between her legs. Then Lana felt his finger stroking the string again, and she jumped at the jolting sensation. As his finger made long strokes up and down the string, Lana shuddered, her arms pulling against the collar as she instinctively tried to grab his hand. Unable to use her hands, her next thought was to close her thighs.

"Now, now," warned the magistrate. "Do not lose your posture or I'll have to bind your legs as well."

"I'm sorry . . . Master!" whispered Lana, keeping her legs widespread, which unfortunately gave him such easy access to her throbbing center. His long middle finger slowly traced the string from her front above her sensitive clit all the way back to press it gently into her anus. She jerked at the sensation, her arms pulling helplessly on her collar, but she was powerless to stop him. "Master . . . please don't," she pleaded, as his finger continued tracing between her quivering thighs.

"Little slave, you seem distressed - the pleasure is greater now that you are bound, is it not?"

Lana's eyes had closed for some reason, but they flew open wide at his question. "No!" she protested. His free hand came to her breast to trace a small circle about her nipple, and Lana gasped softly. "Untie my hands, please!"

"Why?" murmured the magistrate, continuing his dual teasing of her heaving breasts and wet crevice. "If it makes no difference, why do you wish your hands to be freed?"

Lana found it hard to concentrate on his confusing words when she was touched like that. "I . . . if my hands were free . . . I'd stop you!" she responded.

"Would you?" mused the man, grinning at her suggestively. "I think deep down you want this, you need this. All that pent up frustration." He gestured around the room. "You see, we're alone now, there is no shame, I could give you just what you need, you have only to swallow that considerable pride and ask."

Lana looked about the room. He was correct, they were alone now in the large training area. She had a fleeting thought of escape. Even with her hands bound to her collar, she could likely overpower the magistrate, who didn't seem like a warrior, though he was fit and muscular enough. And yet, what then, if she escaped? How would she find Warrick, and how would they get the mission back on track? No, she had to stay with the plan. They would send her to Nikolai, she was certain of it, but she hoped it was soon. The less time she spent here the better.

"I see you are conflicted," observed the magistrate, misinterpreting her thoughtful pause. "Of course, you are still holding onto your pedigreed sense of modesty. You hesitate to let a lowly administrator like me touch you, a beautiful, high-born creature."

"Oh no--Master!" Lana interjected. "I do not think of you that way! Or myself. I am not high-born . . . I was raised by simple people, there is nothing privileged about me . . ." she paused, surprised by her outburst, and her revealing too much. It was probably better for the mission to let them think she was some kind of princess.

The magistrate chuckled. "Do not take me for a fool, girl. I know noble stock when I see it. But no matter, I will not embarrass you with such accusations of privilege." Then he winked at her. "So, you will allow me to bring you to the heights of ecstasy? To ease your discomfort so you may sleep well tonight?"

A wave of heat at the thought of him bringing her to orgasm made Lana woozy. It was an offer nearly impossible to resist. And yet, she thought of Warrick. What would he think of her letting this magistrate pleasure her? She shook her head desperately. "No, Master, I cannot!" she answered finally.