Part 10: Agony And Ecstasy

Sure enough, half a dozen lawn chairs had been set up for them, facing the condemned as they struggled in vain. Kamal had picked up a girl from the general population, her chocolate skin and decorative scarring marking her as part of Scars' people. Her hands had been tied to her ankles, meaning the big ex-marine had probably carried her here himself. She moaned through a ring gag as he sat down and pulled her to his crotch.

Calpurnia's slave had also gone to work pleasuring her mistress, and Vorden figured they probably had the right idea. Beckoning his own copper-skinned cunt to serve her master he leaned back to enjoy the show while she opened up his pants and started sucking him.
"You know…", Cal said after a minute, "I really wonder…ooooh…which one's going to go…mhmm…first."
Kamal stopped fucking his toy's throat for a moment, giving the black bitch a chance to catch her breath. "How about a bet?", he asked. "Let's make it like a Coryn race."
"I'm in," Sudo said. He was the only one of their group who hadn't brought a toy, being apparently quite content with the cold beer in his hand. "Bet you a hundred cred that Scars is the first to croak."
"Nah, we've got to do this right. I'll set up a proper betting pool, no way the boys aren't going to want in on that", Kamal said before ramming his cock back down his slave's throat.

Vorden ordered the bedslave to slow down for a bit while he gave the matter some thought. Scars was thrashing around a lot, looking like she was trying to break free from the nails, and probably would exhaust her reserves quickly. Red had Cal's little gift to contend with in addition to everything else, which would definitely be a strain on her stamina, but she was also light enough to put less strain on her nails than the others would suffer. Particularly Beachball, he thought. By the looks of it, the tanned cunt was cursing her big tits already. She'd also had a double dose of Yakuv's stims, and he wondered how that would influence the outcome. Flappy had got started first, but only by a few minutes. And then his gaze fell on Ice…

He'd been trying to avoid looking at her, he realized and silently cursed himself for his weakness.
She wasn't moving around like the others. There was none of their blind panic in the way she fought the cross. Her movements were deliberate, economical. He watched in fascination as she raised herself up, took several deep breaths and sank back down again slowly rather than falling heavily into the nails holding up her arms like her fellow condemned did. Taut muscles stood out on her athletic frame as she fought to stave off the inevitable.
The sight sent electric tendrils of pleasure through his brain, down the spine and into his cock and with a groan he came into his slave's mouth.

He'd caught her by surprise, he realized from the way she gagged as she tried to swallow the sudden flood, and her efforts amused him quite a bit until, in a coughing fit, her teeth nicked the sensitive skin on his cock.

With an angry grunt he lashed out with a foot, kicking her in the tits and sending her sprawling. She just had time to look panicked as she realized her mistake before he triggered her implants.
Daggers of electric fire stabbed into her clit, her g-spot, every single sensitive area of her nethers. Similar devices fired in her nipples while another tiny bit of plastics and circuitry attached to her brainstem simultaneously heightened her sensitivity to superhuman levels and dampened the cardiovascular reaction, denying her the mercy of unconsciousness. It cost quite a bit to fully rig a slave like that, more than the bitch herself had cost when he'd first acquired her, but he'd found it to be both an invaluable tool and a source of near-endless entertainment. On low intensity levels, the implants could keep a slave stimulated and ready for use for hours at a time. A higher setting would reduce her to an incoherent state of near-constant orgasm, and the setting he'd just used…

The copper-skinned girl was rolling around in the grass, moving on pure animal instinct as her body tried to somehow get away from the source of the pain while her hands clutched at her spasming cunt. Consciously, if there was any true conscious thought still going on behind her grimace of agony, she must have known that these were futile gestures but her body's desperate need overrode any input from her brain.

Still furious, Vorden leapt up from his chair and fell upon her, rage and frustration driving him as much as lust did. He grabbed hold of her wrists, pushed himself between her legs and, some small part of him wondering at how hard he still was just after coming, drove his cock deep into her twitching cunt.
He'd fucked her hundreds of times, in dozens of positions but never as roughly as he did now. He knew her juices would start to flow soon enough from the excruciating overstimulation, but for now she was still dry inside. It didn't matter. She'd given his cock a nice coating of saliva, and his rage did the rest.

With every thrust, her whole body shuddered under him. He was hurting her even through the agonizing effect of the implants, but he also felt her cunt moisten as her body responded to the neural overload. Her gasps of pain became mixed with moans as he continued to increase the pace. He felt the heat and pressure rising in his blood but even when his fucktoy bucked under him in pain-crazed orgasm his own release was just out of reach.

Until he looked up and saw Ice on her cross, panting heavily as she watched him tear into the slave. Her cunt was overflowing, clear liquid running down the insides of her thighs as she squirmed and twisted against the wood in a desperate and futile attempt to ease the burning between her legs.

That did the job. With a groan he spent himself deep inside his slave. He turned off the implants with a subvocalized command, feeling her go completely limp under him, then rolled off her and lay in the grass, panting. Gradually, he became aware of his surroundings again. Kamal was still busy with his dark-skinned plaything, savagely kneading and twisting her tits in his powerful hands while he violated her ass. Calpurnia, chatting amicably with Sudo, paused briefly to give him a cheerful grin and a thumbs-up.

The field was emptying as the captive bitches were driven pack into their holding areas. They wouldn't miss out on the rest of the show in any case: Cal had made sure the crosses would be visible from the pens, and in any case they'd be marched out there again, in groups of five, for their scheduled exercise time.

Vorden raised himself up on his elbows, groaning as his body issued a number of pointed complaints about the overexertion he'd forced upon it. He needed a shower, a drink, and a few hours of rest, but first…

"Cal, can I borrow your pet for a while?"
His second-in-command looked surprised for a moment. "Uh, sure", she said. "She's all yours. Speaks the southern coastal dialect, it's setting seven on the translator. Do you need the remote?"
"No need, thanks."
He got up, doing his best to ignore the twinges in his legs and walked over to the little slave. She was staring at the writhing forms on the crosses, transfixed by fear and terrified fascination. He grabbed at the leash attached to her nipple-hooks to get her attention and she turned to face him with a yelp.

"Bitch, I've got some new orders for you" he said, waiting for the translator to do its work before continuing, "You will go to the big cunt on the middle cross. You will pleasure her like you would your mistress. You will do this until you get new orders. And while you are there," he added with a cruel grin, "take a close look at what they are suffering. Displease me in any way and you will suffer the same fate. Do you understand, cunt?"
The translator finished and she nodded fearfully.
"Then go", he ordered and she set off, a little clumsily with her arms still bound and the leash trailing behind her and tugging at her nipples with every step. He made it back to his chair and slumped down on it, closing his eyes for a while. He heard Kamal, done with his toy, talk to somebody on the comm about the betting pool. He heard the chocolate-skinned cunt's whimpers of pain and his own fuckslave's weak groans. He heard the runaways, lost in their private little worlds of agony on their crosses moaning, crying and grunting. And then he heard one voice cry out in ecstasy, briefly drowning out the sounds of pain, and smiled.