In Northern Hands

We lost one of our best men to this rather skilled matriarchy patrol. I was really pissed imagining Carl collared and controlled. That was no life for a male warrior. We decided to extract a little revenge. To an outsider it looked like we had gotten sloppy. It didn't hurt that most matriarchy military commanders held dim views at to our intellectual capacity.

It was always a shock for the women of the Southern Matriarchy to discover that the men of the Northern Republic were just as smart as they were. I've seen too much of their abilities to claim, like some Northern Republic commanders do, that the women are not as sharp as we are. That is just not true. All the same they CAN be duped.

We camouflaged our forward observation post to make it look like we had abandoned the base in a hurry. To an enemy it looked like it was full of intelligence. It was too tempting to ignore. We had also discovered a flaw in their drone cameras. At the right angle we could replace its camera's views with our own. We sent a signal indicating that FO Post was strewn with cast off codes and trash that did not burn. ANY soldier would have been interested in investigating. Had they thought a bit deeper they would have realized that it was too perfect and too tempting. But because we had spent the last couple of days looking like we were preoccupied and careless, we sold the illusion perfectly.

The Lieutenant who had caused us so many problems and had sprung the trap that captured Carl was third over the hill, just behind her sergeant and her corporal. We were on them before they knew what hit them just three of the ten woman squad escaped. Victory was ours.

I, as ranking officer took possession of the Lieutenant. She fought mightily and I had a devil of a time slipping the collar around her neck. Once I got in in place however, it sapped her strength and she collapsed at my feet. She fell face first. I rolled her over bared her smooth, muscular tummy, and placed the controller in position. I never get tired of watching those things burrow into the skin. Ten minutes later her life in the matriarchy was over and her life as a Northern slave had begun.

I tied her hands behind her back and helped her to her feet. "Quite a fight you put up there lieutenant. You have no idea how happy we are to have finally captured you. Think of it as revenge for your capture of Sergeant Carl Johnson a month ago. Look around we have almost your entire squad."

The Lieutenant' eyes were hot with defiance but there was nothing else she could do. She looked mournfully as he comrades, all collared and controlled like herself.

Initially I had hoped that we could trade her for Carl but upper echelon thought, if we DID captured her, she would prove too valuable to the South to be allowed to be repatriated. We would probably have to trade three or four of the seven NCOs and enlisted who we captured to get Carl back. That hardly seemed fair but if we could negotiate to get Carl back at all we would be lucky. That was not my problem, however, only generals and high ranking members of the diplomatic corps on both sides were responsible for repatriation talks. We put in our request on Carl's behalf; what happened to it once it went up the ladder was anybody's guess. I've been to the peace village on the border. Its the only place where North and South meet as equals. The place gave me the creeps.

I took a look at the Lieutenant's dog tags. "First Lieutenant Raven Riley" it said. At last we had a name for the recent thorn in our side. She was quite beautiful. Long brown hair, angelic face and huge blue eyes. As far as I could tell she had a fine body under that uniform. I would find out shortly.

Because we operated deep in enemy territory, often at the very outskirts of The Matriarchy Fort Hera we put in a request for several speedy air transports. Technically they were not supposed to operate this deep in the matriarchy, at least not according to treaty. But since we were evacuating and not attacking we thought that we could get away with it. The best thing about springing this trap is that it bought us three months of home duty. We had been deep in Matriarch territory for a long time. We had learned a great deal about our enemy and the trick we had learned about their drones promised a massive influx of fresh slaves. At least until they caught on.

My men and I lined up our captives and marched them toward the LZ. All of them were crying. There was always something enjoyable about seeing them tear up. If the shoe were on the other foot and I were in their place I would be just as upset, but I would not cry. At least I hoped not. Slavery was the hazard of EVERY soldier North or South. It was the great unifier and dreaded fear of both sides. There was probably not a soldier on either side who had not lost a good friend, a bunk mate or a comrade or all three. War was a nasty business, even a limited but endless one like the battle between the Southern Matriarchy and the Northern Republic.

The pilots must have thrown their every kilogram on their throttles because the air transports arrived in record time. They flew low over the landscape to avoid radar and forward drones. An incursion of Northern air transports could get our commanders in serious hot water so we got the women into the transports as fast as we could climbed in after them and flew like bats out of hell for home.

Home base was abuzz when we landed. Word of our success had preceded us. I spent the next two hours being debriefed by my Colonel and the commanding general. My unit was up for a commendation. The drone duping trick was already being pulled off all along the front. As a consequence we were lousy with new slaves.

Lieutenant Raven Riley was marched into HQ we spent the next three hours debriefing her and pumping her for intelligence. You can't lie very effectively in the collar and controller. Together they pick up hidden stresses and, attached to the right equipment, function as a remarkably accurate lie detector. The Lieutenant was a bad liar.

As we finished with her the General announced, "We've gotten all we can out of her. She certainly is a fine specimen, you may have her Captain. I understand you are currently slaveless."

I saluted the General and said, "Thank you sir. Yes, because I was deployed beyond the standard limit I was required to sell my slave. This one, however, will make a fine replacement."

At that remark the Lieutenant's head sagged with despair.

I took her controller remote and marched her to the processing barn. I led her to an empty stall.

"I am going to strip you now!" I said.

Her hands had been freed earlier. I set the controller and reached for her uniform shirt. a few minuets later her blouse was on the floor in front of her. Next came her boots, her cap and her uniform pants. At last she was clad in her panties and brassier. Her body was spectacular. Long legs, tight tummy, and huge tits. The wound on her stomach where the controller had been placed was already beginning to heal. She had no scars and no tattoos. Her skin was clear and even and had a healthy glow. At last she was naked. I let out a low whistle and ordered her to loose her hair. The effect when it cascaded down her back was mesmerizing.

I gathered up her uniform and took a box from the in bin. Carefully I boxed up her uniform and everything else and placed one of her spare dog tags on top of the clothing. I slapped a standard label on it and set it in the out bin. Some private would collect the box and eventually it would make its way to the peace village and into matriarchy hands. We kept nothing but a single dog tag from our captives. The matriarchy cut our uniforms off and just sent a form with our captured guys names and ranks on it back to us. We tried to prove that we were more civilized in this area at least.

The chill of the stall caused her to break out in goose bumps. It was time for her bath and her shearing. I marched her over to the wet wing of the barn. All slaves are bathed in a tub. Aside from the water are some disinfectants and some muscle relaxants. There was a Specialist in charge of the tubs. He eyed the Lieutenant up and down and assigned me to tub nineteen. I bathed her head to toe with soap and disinfectant. Out of the tub it was time for her shearing. These Specialists had the coolest job in the entire army. She was led to a chair and her legs were spread and fastened to either side of the chair. The specialist took a special razor and rendered her intimate parts hairless. Her still moist dark brown thatch was slowly, yet steadily removed. Her lovely looking snatch was bared to the world. Her pubes were collected and presented to me in a little silk bag with her remaining dog tag as a souvenir. The razor was then passed over the rest of her body. The controller would prevent her pubic hair and body hair from growing back. All slaves north and south were kept smooth.

The last bit of processing involved a physical exam and assessment from a doctor. The Lieutenant was prodded poked and measured. At last her retinas were scanned, her fingerprints and all her biometric data were sent to slave central in the Northern capital electronically. My own retinas were scanned as was my thumbprint. A short while later I received on my portable a certificate confirming me as the owner of the woman who USED to be lieutenant Raven Riley of the Southern Matriarchy.

As the process finished I said to her, "There now you belong to me. You will be used often. When I host parties you will be expected to serve my friends and fellow officers. I like the name Raven because of your raven dark hair, so you will be permitted to keep that. Everything else you have lost. There is no point in weeping. Every soldier on either side knows that they can end up in your position. I plan on impregnating you by no later than next year. You look like you will bear a fine son."

There were simple clogs for the slaves to wear while walking them over the sometimes uneven grounds of the fort. They were kept near the door of the processing barn. I had Raven put a pair on and we walked the short distance to my quarters. I was in officer's housing. My last slave had left some clothing behind that looked like it might fit my new slave. I had been attached to my old slave, whom I had named Mustard, after her golden yellow hair but, as per military regulations, slaves could only be boarded for three months. I had been in the field for five months so I had to sell her. I sold her to a major who admired her. She now had a new name and anew living situation. The major had written to me while I was in the field complimenting me on how well I had trained Mustard and how happy he was with his purchase. Apparently he had renamed her Sunshine.

I took my key out of my pocket and waved it under the sensor lock. My door swung open. My place smelled musty because it had been shut up so long but it was clean and neat inside. In my thirteen years in the army I had not acquired too much property. I had seen too many officers have to sell their things at rock bottom prices when they received sudden orders to report to a new base on the other side of the country. Everything I had could be easily moved. The most expensive thing I owned was slaves. The most I had ever had a one time was two. I know that sounds like paradise but you have to feed them, insure them and you end up dividing your attention and one feels neglected and begins to resent you, making them a very poor slave. Some guys can juggle as many as four, but I am not that guy.

My favorite had been Coffee. Her complexion was dark to begin with and she tanned easily; was always a golden brown. The sons I had with her were now nine and seven years old. They are at a crèche for military sons in the capital. I don't get to see them often but then most fathers do not. The Republic does a much better job of raising them and turning them into fine citizens than most men would on their own. When they became teenagers they would spend their holidays with me. Until then I had to be content with video letters and school reports. Coffee had caught the eye of my commanding General. Eventually he grew unhappy with just having her on weekends. He set up roadblocks to my ownership and even threatened my career. Essentially i was forced to sell her to him. He even demanded a price below market value. It is a very good thing that there are almost no other generals like that in this man's army. If there were, all we officers would be in revolt. Fortunately now he was at a base at the other end of the country. Coffee is still with him from what I understand.

I led Raven into my small house and gave her the tour. There was not much to it. There was a bedroom, a guest room, living room, kitchen, and bathroom. On the patio was the jacuzzi and the grill Through the fence was the officers swimming pool, everything I needed. I placed the silk bag with Raven's intimate thatch on the hutch nest to the other bags. A tasteful nude portrait of Raven would join her trophy bag in a few days. I had a photographer I liked just off base. I contemplated the row of pictures and trophy bags. There was something undeniably special about breaking in a new slave.

I threw a pillow on the floor and told Raven, "Let me demonstrate the power of the collar and the controller."

I set the orgasm setting for the highest level. With in moments Raven was lost in the throes of an orgasm more intense than she had ever felt before in her life. The northern republic had tinkered with the controller to achieve this effect. Raven was gasping and panting. I kept her in this elevated state for quite a while. Then I eased her down.

Raven had a thunderstruck look upon her face. Clearly her training had never informed her of the depth and power of we northern men. I spoke again.

"Obedient slaves will be granted orgasms like that often. They are better and more addictive than any narcotic. That one was a gift. You will have to earn future orgasms. The more obedient you are the more orgasms you will be granted. Lets see how obedient you can be. Slave give me a blow job."

Raven, despite herself, knelt on the pillow and reached for the fastener in my pants. Her technique needed improvement but I would have plenty of time to train her. I encouraged her to swallow every drop but at least half of my seed hit the pillow.

I had her stand and led her to the bedroom. "Turn down the sheets." I ordered. Despite herself Raven did as commanded. Your mind is intact but you are compelled to do what the collar and controller tell you to do. It is maddening. The technology was the same north and south but how it was used varied incredibly. Because the orgasms we give our slaves really are more addictive than cocaine or any other drug, it is not long before every one is hooked and dependent. If they were not repatriated in their first six months their addiction would be permanent. After that time period very few slaves even accepted freedom if it were to be offered. The Lieutenant had no doubt been a good and proud officer. She may even have owned a slave herself; yet in a few months her only desire would be for cock, and with it, another chance to get high.

I ordered her to climb into bed. She complied. I stripped and got in after her. Gently I kissed her body all over. Some guys are hard asses towards their slaves but it is common knowledge that they respond much better to gentleness and consistency. I kissed her all over and ate her out for quite a while. Her eyes were full of tears. We called the first two weeks of training the waterworks days. It takes about that long for them to acclimate to their new lives. It is always a shock going from top dog to lowest of the low.

Raven was attractive enough for the escort service. In the back of my mind I considered the possibility of enrolling her. If she was accepted I would earn a windfall and nice ribbon to add to the fruit salad on my dress uniform. She truly was one of the most attractive women I had ever seen. As an escort she would have the best life a slave could have in the north. She would be hosting parties and would have a large wardrobe and some autonomy. It was hard work however. Not every woman rose to the challenge.

Right now I was focused on capturing her soul for our side. Gently I massaged and pampered her before entering her like a lover. She would be meeting my needs soon enough but for her first few days I would be killing her with kindness. I set the controller to give her a natural orgasm. It would give her some fulfilment but would mostly leave her wanting more.

"Would you like to experience the euphoria you felt before? Please me and I will give you that joy often."

I placed the controller in neutral and allowed her to speak. For the first time since we had pumped her for intelligence, she spoke more than a few words.

"Despite my current circumstances I will ALWAYS consider myself an officer in the Southern Matriarchy. You will never own me in any real way no matter what this collar and controller may make me do."

I laughed and said, "You have spunk I'll give you that but in the end you will become just as hooked on the euphoria of the orgasms your collar and controller give you as any other slave. I have no interest in your former life. I'm sure that you were a fine officer and I know from personal experience that you were a first class warrior, emphasis on the past tense. Now you are my property to do with as I wish. You will address me as Master. I am your Master in all things, I am responsible for housing you, feeding you and clothing you. I can decide to, as some officers do, to keep you naked at all times but I see potential in you becoming an escort, which is NOT a bad life. Your value to me is squarely located in your sex. Your tits, your mouth, your vagina, and your asshole are your ONLY assets. They are mine to use as I see fit and also mine to loan to my friends and fellow officers."

I set the controller for maximum and she was moaning just moments later, I brought her down and watched her try to collect herself. "You can't deny that you enjoyed that. I can tell by your body language that you are hungry for more. In the end you will beg to suck my cock or let me fuck you up the ass for just a few minuets of what you just experienced. I know this because I have enslaved a lot of your comrades over the years, EVERY ONE of them has reacted to the controller in the same way. EVERY ONE of them was as defiant as you are now. That defiance does not last long against the torrent of pleasure you can and will receive."

Raven had a defiant look upon her face but I saw something in her eyes that led me to believe that her resolve was not as strong as her mien indicated.

I walked over to my closet and said "I have some clothes that belonged to my last slave. You WILL try them on."

The first outfit was a pink bustier with a gossamer skirt. The second was a tiny black skirt and a short blouse that exposed almost all of the ribs and the entire stomach. I could tell that Raven did bot like the style of the clothing but the controller compelled her to put them on. They fit rather well. In fact they fit Raven better then they had fit Mustard because Raven has bigger tits. The shoes did not fit. I let her stay clad in the second outfit and led her to the kitchen.

"I've never yet met a slave whose cooking I could tolerate so I will prepare your meals. You will be responsible for cleaning my home and keeping it organized. I will be bathing you and taking care of your hair. I am quite adept at both skills. If you are good I will let you brush your teeth by yourself and allow you to use the bidet unsupervised."

I stepped back a bit and gathered my thoughts. "It has been a long day for both of us. It is time to get you ready for bed. You will share my bed. The controller will be set to limit your movement during the night. Needless to say you will be sleeping naked."