Space Slavery

Irene's heavy boots rested on a filthy dashboard as the space station jumped into view at lightspeed. She reclined in her chair and took a swig from her large bottle, bright, neon liquid dripping from her chin.

'You have reached your destination. You are currently orbiting Jovis V,' announced a pleasant synthetic voice.

'Welcome to your new home, kid,' Irene turned in her chair and stamped her feet on the grey, metal floor.

She was a lean, hard-looking woman, muscular, her left arm replaced by cold steel, its hand a claw. She wore a battered leather jacket and from her belt dangled around a dozen knives in all shapes and sizes. On half of her head, she wore her tangled green hair long, but the left side had been burned and remained perpetually bald and scarred.

'Wh-where are we?' asked the prisoner.

'Ain't ya been listening? This is Jovis V, the biggest damn house of pleasure this side of Proxima and ya, ya little sweetheart, got me an offer.'

'J-Jovis V?'

'Yeah, that's not something ya'd have heard about in that God-fearing little colony of yours. They like to keep out of the way of polite society. Ha! Lucky that's no longer your thing, pumpkin.'

Ada took a small step back and looked past her captor out through the observation screen. Even from here, a million neon lights were visible all over the massive station. Her clammy palms pressed together, she was a tall, round-faced girl. Her hair and eyes were dark and her figure curvy and feminine, a little plump, some would say. Her wrists and ankles were bound in light metal shackles and she wore nothing but an artificial skintight cotton suit, which the ship had fabricated after Irene had torn her dress.

'The interested party's gonna be needing ya ready in a week's time. Till then ya better behave, got it?'

'Behave? Are you gonna sell me to some pervert? I wanna go home!'

'Do ya now? Ya know what those pirates did to your home? I'd be surprised if ya'd recognise it, ha, even the graves'll be unnamed unless someone took the time to mark a couple hundred ditches. Nah, I told ya, this is your home now. Look, isn't it nice and shiny.'

'You're horrible!'

'That's just the kind of backtalk we gotta get eliminated, pumpkin.'

Irene rose and Ada backed away immediately until she hit the closed bridge door. Whirring and buzzing, the metallic arm grabbed a handful of the girl's hair.

'I hope you're a real fast learner, cause as a teacher, I ain't known for my patience.'

'All right, first order of the day: seductive dance.'

Irene had cleared a little space in her gym and mounted one of her pull-up bars vertically as an impromptu stripper pole. She pointed a mechanical finger at Ada and with a series of beeps, her shackles fell from her limbs.

'I-I've never danced before, what am I supposed to do?'

'What, no boy-girl rodeos? No square dancing at the big harvest festival? You're starting to disappoint me with your country bumfuck credentials, pumpkin.'

'M-my name's Ada. And I mean this kinda dancing,' she glanced at the pole and blushed.

'Ya know what, real first order of the day: respect. Got it? Ya don't talk back to me, ya do what you're told. Also, ya call me mistress and when Mr. Southerner buys ya, then ya call him master and ya worship him and when he tells ya to worship someone else, ya do that too. And when someone calls ya a name, then that's your fucking name. Now dance, pumpkin. Ya got your tits and your arse, wiggle, I don't think your customers are gonna be choosy.'

Ada wasn't weak, not at all. She was heavy but she could lift her weight easily. At first, she had little trouble. Walking around the pole, hanging off it with one hand, switching hands, showing a little cleavage here, a little bottom there, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of Irene's moody melodies all seemed manageable. All too soon, however, Irene became demanding. She had Ada climb up and try to swing round, had her sling her legs round the pole and lean back and even use nothing but her hands to stay in position for several seconds and display her stocky legs. Ada was hot and breathing heavily when Irene told her to strip.

'What?'

Irene slapped her across the face, mercifully using her human hand.

'Yes, mistress, of course, mistress!'

Clumsily, she began to peel out of the suit.

'Not like that, slowly. Start with the cleavage.'

Ada pulled down the zipper until her large, soft breasts were mostly exposed. Right away, she felt her skin prickle, sweaty and cold. Her nipples went rigid still just beneath the fabric.

'Good, this is how ya will draw your customers.'

Irene pulled up a chair and planted herself right in front of the pole.

'Pull me in, pumpkin.'

Ada bit her lip to stop herself from answering. She took a deep breath to stop her fist from shaking and grabbed onto the pole. She shook her bum, tip-toed around a little, then leaned back and gave her one-person audience a glimpse of her womanly wiles.

'That's it. See? Nothin to it. Gimme a flash. There's a good girl, but seriously, work on your smile.'

Ada's teeth were clenched as she straightened up again and covered her nipples.

'Ya got my attention, pumpkin. Now for the real work. At this point, you're gonna get a signal, see I'm tellin ya, I've made my choice for the night and it's ya, ya little scamp.'

She beckoned Ada.

'Ya can imagine I'm holding a wad of cash, if it helps, cause this is the main event, baby girl.'

Ada just stared and the slaver sighed.

'What d'ya think Southerner is after ya for your exceptional skills as a dancer? Come here, ya dolt.'

Ada moved.

'Now ya might be told what to do, but the important thing is that you're ready for anything. Your body'll be Mr. Southerner's then and people are paying him good money to play with ya, so ya better let them play.'

Irene ripped the suit and grabbed a perky little nipple.

'Whatever they feel like doin, ya better play along, got that?'

'Yes, mistr- ah!'

Irene laughed as she twisted hard.

'Good, now let's see if your game's up to scratch, pumpkin.'

The slaver patted her crotch.

'It's called body language. Read it.'

'Y-yes mistress.'

Fumbling fingers found their way up Irene's legs. She was in washed out, old-fashioned jeans.

'Take your time, build anticipation. Try a kiss.'

Ada ducked past the knives and pressed her lips against the zip. Irene didn't like to shower often and stank of grease and the ozone residue of blaster fire. Both of these smells were overpowered immediately when Ada pulled down the jeans and revealed the slaver's cunt.

'That's right, I'm a natural green.'

The mechanical grip was firm around Ada's neck and she could taste sour as the slave was forced down to pleasure her owner.

Ada walked out of the shower, letting a cloud of steam into her tiny quarters. She was glad to be out of the shackles, even though she knew escape wasn't an option. The ships suits were ironically more comfortable and more freeing than anything she'd ever worn in her life, but she was certain her future owner had a very different wardrobe in mind. She sat down on her mattress and listened for Irene's heavy steps. When she heard nothing, she slipped a hand under her bed and retrieved what looked like a small, silver pyramid.

'Come in, Bravo, come in. This is November. We're at location. Jovis V is real, I repeat, Jovis V is real and I have a way in.'

The bridge was illuminated with the hologram's flickering glow.

'I'm going to have to meet her first. Just a precaution, you understand.'

'Jesus, she's just a slave, she's got tits and an arse, I thought that's all ya people wanted?'

'Thinking was never your strong suit, my dear. What we want depends on our clients and some are truly particular, so I have no doubt you shall indulge me. After all, we wouldn't want to find a replacement for you or... another use.'

The glow faded and a steel clashed against steel as Irene brought her fist down on the communicator.

'Pompous ass!'

She wasn't particularly surprised at his behaviour, but it still made her blood boil from time to time. Progress with the girl was good. For a former farmhand, Ada showed quite a talent for movement and dragging around sacks of potato seemed to have granted her extraordinary strength. At the same time, she really had come to grips with obedience. She had quickly gotten used to calling Irene 'mistress', she kept her head down and no longer complained about pain or having to perform demeaning tasks, tasks which, for Irene, were a little more fun than she had expected.

On the day of Southerner's visit, Irene was especially pleased with Ada's appearance. At this point, she didn't need her restraints at all and so had to convey her submissive status through her body language. She knelt calmly in the center of the bridge, hands held behind her back. The ship had created a more appropriate set of garments for the occasion and Ada, hidden beneath what looked like a silken gown, wore a deep red, lacy set of matching bra and panties.

A flash of light followed a surge of energy and Raymond Southerner stepped onto the slave ship.

'Irene, my dear!' and he embraced her, ignoring the icy stare.

He was a short, fat man, his blond hair slicked back and his smile genial. As soon as his eyes fell on Ada, he rubbed his hands and skipped towards her.

'Lovely, lovely! Oh, Irene, excellent, excellent work, truly.'

Ada suppressed an urge to blink as a heavy cloud of sweet perfume enveloped her. Southerner's hands were on her shoulders and he inspected her closely.

'Absolutely charming,' he pulled the gown aside and looked down, then nodded approvingly.

'Ya pleased, then?' asked Irene.

'Indeed I am, my dear, and so will my client. Beautiful, just beautiful and she appears well-trained.'

He pinched Ada's cheek, whose only response was a to flash him a mischievous smile.

'Oh you are marvelous,' he cupped her breasts as though weighing them.

'She is a natural,' Irene said.

'Is that so?' he turned to Ada. 'Your name is Ada, correct?'

'If it pleases master,' she replied.

'Oh yes I think so, it's a charming name. Ada, let me tell you about my client. He will be your master, do you understand? He will own you and your body.'

'Yes, master.'

'Good, very good. His name is Santiago, Esteban Santiago and he is a man of exquisite taste.'

'I am excited to meet him, master,' Ada said when a response appeared wanting.

'You will, soon. First, however, we will need to complete your, let's say, transformation.'

Again, he paused and Ada seemed to feel obliged to reply.

'Transformation, master?'

Her eyes flickered towards Irene, who looked similarly confused.

'Quite so, it means change. You see your eyes, though they are perfectly lovely, beautiful, even, will not be required in your future position.'

Irene's brow wrinkled. What was he saying? But before she could ask, Ada replied in an entirely different tone of voice.

'What?' she said.

'Mind your tone,' Southerner said, still in his friendly manner. 'It's a very simple procedure, painless even.'

He held up a small, clear bottle containing what looked like metallic sand.

'These,' he said holding it up for Ada to see. 'Are nanobots.'

He spoke like a teacher would to very young students, explaining something he found utterly fascinating.

'They'll fly in and eat your lovely little eyeballs right out. They'll also numb your face and clean up after themselves very well. Pish posh, no pain, no mess, doesn't that sound simple.'

'Hold on a second,' Irene stepped closer. 'Y-ya want a blind slave? What, I mean, what in the world for?'

'Oh Irene, my dear, it is not our place to ask these sorts of questions. The client's wishes are all the reason we need, surely. Wouldn't you agree, Ada?'

Suddenly, Ada was on her feet.

'I do not!'

Southerner squealed and staggered back.

'Irene! For heaven's sake, control your slave!'

Ada kicked Southerner's feet out from under him and he slammed hard against the metal floor. His hand reached inside his jacket and he produced a shiny blaster. Before he could so much as point it, Ada had grabbed his hand and twisted. The blaster fell and she reached out to catch it when Irene finally moved. Ada pulled her hand away, narrowly escaping the slaver's boot. She leaped back, gaining distance.

'What is happening here?' Southerner flailed his arms, trying to regain his bearings.

'Sorry to spoil your fun. Special Agent 0X11, codename: November, at your service.'

From underneath her gown, she produced a tiny silver blade.

'You don't wanna know where this has been,' she flung it.

The blade hit the dashboard and electricity crackled throughout the bridge.

Ada turned to run.

'Close bridge door!' shouted Irene, but only static came as a reply.

'After her, you imbecile!' shouted Southerner, hands held above his head.

Irene hesitated.

'You will bring me the girl or you will take her place, woman!'

Irene ran, down the hallway, checking the dining area, the gym. Both were empty. She could no longer hear the clattering of any steps but her own.

'This is my ship, I'll find ya, ya hear!'

She turned another corner and barged into Ada's sleeping quarters. Special agent? What the heck had she been doing at the colony? A spy? After her pirate friends? Or even after the slavers themselves?

The medbay looked empty as well. Irene turned and a silk-covered elbow hit her square in the jaw. She stumbled to the side, her human hand groping for something to hold onto.

'You're only making things wors- oof!'

A knee was buried deep in her toned stomach.

'Ya think?' Ada brought both fists down on Irene's doubled over back and the slaver collapsed hitting the cold floor with part thud and part clatter.

'He wanted to take my eyes! You sold me to be fucking blinded, you bitch!'

'I had no choice!'

There was a crack. Ada's kick knocked teeth flying and a blinding hot pain shot through the front of Irene's head as her nose shattered. Tears of pain and more burned in Irene's eyes and blood ran in streams across her mouth.

'You be his fucking blind slut then,' Ada pulled back her foot for a final kick.

'I'm so sorry.'

There was a beep and the targeting computer came online. Mechanical fingers closed mercilessly around Ada's ankle and Irene pulled. Ada fell, landed on her hands and was ready to strike with her other leg. The arm let go and effortlessly parried a good dozen kicks, all delivered from a handstand.

Ada lost her balance and before she could fall or roll away or even scream, a metallic blur slammed against her solar plexus. Coughing, gasping for air, she reached out vainly, but Irene had gotten up already and was too far away.

Calmly, she wiped the blood from her face and watched her foe squirm on the floor.

'Special Agent,' she shook her head. 'Ya sure had me fooled, pumpkin... November... Ada.'

She held up the bottle. Ada hadn't seen her take it and now her eyes widened with terror as she watched the silvery nanobots whirr excitedly in their glass container. She crawled back shook her own head frantically and still only managed gasps.

'Still want to fight?'

Irene's metal hand grabbed the girl by the neck and lifted her up easily. Her strength gone, Ada pummeled the robotic limb feebly.

'Listen, listen, listen to me! Ya can continue to fight me and I'll break your arms and legs before I take your eyes and ya will be blind and helpless and ya will be sold and ya will be at this Santiago's mercy. Sound good? No? That's what I thought. So how about ya stop fighting. I will take your eyes, because I have to, but ya'll have your arms, ya'll have your legs and ya'll have this.'

Irene placed the bottle on a medical cabinet and drew her smallest knife.

'As I understand it, you're quite adept at concealing these, well, put it to good use, then!'

She placed the knife next to the bottle.

Ada's blows let up and her hands came to a rest on Irene's arm. She stared at the knife, then at the bottle.

'I'm afraid we don't have the time. Will ya take my offer, yes or no?'

Very slightly, Irene's grip loosened.

Ada's lip quivered and her hands trembled uncontrollably, yet her eyes were focused. She looked at Irene and slowly, deliberately nodded her head.

'Thank god,' Irene released her and Ada slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor.

'Here,' the slaver held the knife at the tip and Ada took the handle. It was a throwing knife from back on earth, Japanese, Ada thought.

Her movements deft and practised, she slipped it under her gown, lifted her panties and let it disappear somewhere in the back. She shuffled her weight around until she sat comfortably again and the dark metal was no longer visible.

'And here,' now Irene held up the bottle.

'Ya know how to use medibots?' she asked.

Ada nodded, tears glistening in her doomed eyes.

'Same principle, ya wanna be the one or should I?'

Ada shook her head and held out her hand for the bottle. She took a deep breath. Her fingers wouldn't stop shaking, but she managed to hold up the bottle and remove the surprisingly heavy glass lid. Right away, a soft buzzing noise filled the room. She tilted her head back and looked up into the artificial daylight. She would never see real daylight again or the sun or Bravo.

She was sobbing now, tears and snot streamed across her puffy face. And she emptied the bottle. The bots trickled down slowly and swirled in two silvery glistening spirals in front of her face, slowly her field of vision was taken up by a sea of sparkles and a tickling sensation spread throughout her entire face. For a few seconds, nothing but warmth and light filled Ada's senses. By the time the cold returned, the light had faded and only Ada was left, sitting alone on the metal floor. Her fingers felt for the empty eyelids and when she could press them easily and find there was nothing behind, a shudder took her body. She was in complete and utter darkness, and would be forever.