On the world of Ranexx all women are slaves, kept to please and sexually serve their dominant male Masters. Erotic beasts who are easily aroused, the women of Ranexx possess biological factors which make them natural sex slaves. Our heroine, Virgelina, is a pampered pleasure slave, sent by her Master to the Imperial Palace to compete to become an imperial pleasure slave serving the Emperor. However, when Virgelina fails miserably, it is she, not her Master, who must face horrible treatment and tortures at the hands of Varius, the head imperial slave trainer. After eleven days of torment changes Virgelina both physically and mentally, she is forced to confront her Master, who abandons her to a cruel fate. Will Virgelina survive and find a Master to serve, and perhaps to love?
In the fading sunslight, Virgelina was surprised when they eventually left the palace building and began walking along a path through a pasture. The air was warm, and the setting suns felt good on Virgelina’s naked body. Arabans running and playing in the next pasture would have made her happy, if not for the weight of the punishment hanging over her head. Thankful to Justus for releasing her nipples, she felt a strange need to touch him, or speak to him about what had happened to her. Knowing direct communication with a Master was frowned upon on Ranexx, she contented herself with thinking about being his slave, under suns not yet risen. I wish I had the courage to speak to him, to tell him I have imprinted on him. I could be dead soon, so he should know. As they walked, the twin suns sank below the horizon, and on the opposite horizon they could barely see three of the nine silvery moons rising.
Justus led her to a large barn, opening the door to let light rush into the main hallway of the enormous building. Walking inside, she saw rows of stalls on each side of the center aisle. Immediately, she noticed that the stalls on the right were clean, well maintained, and housed large arabans. The mighty steeds looked well contented with fresh straw and large wall-mounted troughs containing food and water.
When Virgelina turned her head to the left, she was met with a quite different picture. These stalls were smaller, about one third the size, and they were filthy, unkempt places that seemed to have no troughs or buckets for the feeding of their occupants. Slavegirls, naked as was customary, were all chained into a bizarre kneeling position on the floor of each stall. Their faces and breasts pressed close to the filthy straw as their necks were chained close to the floor, leaving their nude bottoms thrust up to be viewed or used. All the girls’ wrists had been cuffed tightly behind their backs, and every ass displayed fresh, red whip marks or cane strips. As the slaves turned there heads slightly to try to see who was behind them, she noticed the tethered slaves all had their heads shaven, but the cutting had been done haphazardly, leaving cuts, scrapes and tufts of hair on the shorn heads. These slavegirls were now crude caricatures of their former beautiful selves.
Looking closer at her sister slaves, she noticed their knees were forced apart by metal bars cuffed between them so that their bulging cunt lips were exposed. Set off against the angry redness of their bottoms, their engorged pleasure bulbs hung down obscenely.
Yet why are their clits so engorged, swollen as if they were experiencing sexual pleasure? They have been tormented, punished with what must have been terrible pain, and it seems unlikely they have felt much pleasure in this place. It was obvious to Virgelina that while this barn was a sheltered home away from their pastures to the arabans, it was a living hell of pain and humiliation for slavegirls.
“A pretty bitch you are, but then we have so many flowers here at the palace we don’t need the disobedient ones.” Varius’ hands lashed across her face, slapping her harder than Gaius had. The jolting effect was sobering, making her realize how powerful he was, and how completely helpless and at his mercy she was.
“Did you simply forget the lessons of two years of pleasure slave training, or are you a witless slut? Females are not allowed to reject a man at any time. Your holes are open, to be used, at any time.” As if to accentuate his words, he thrust two fingers deep in her anus, provoking a pained scream as she was fear-dry.
“I am surprised you actually made it to me. Gaius has slain disobedient slaves for similar offences; he must be getting gentle in his maturity. Do you have a particular problem with large organs rutting in your asshole, slave?” He added a third finger to the two he had rutting in her rectum.
“No, Master, but this—ah… slave was not used anally very often by her Master. Master Gaius is so large that this slave was reacting to the pain of penetration.”
“So you cannot stand pain then, bitch. You will break so easily and not provide much challenge. Let us start with a change to make you look like the scum you are.”
There was a flood of relief to her rear opening as he withdrew his fingers, but her good fortune was short-lived. Watching him kneel down beside her, she gasped as he jerked her head upward to the maximum degree allowable by the short chain attached from her collar to the floor. This is it; I will lose my beautiful hair.
Grimacing as he straddled her head with his powerful legs, she gasped as his thighs tightened, gripping her head like a vise. She simply could not move, not even to jerk away from the flash of steel blade that frightened her, and she felt painful tugs on her scalp as her precious locks were cut away. He shears me like a wooly beast, taking my beauty from me.
Afraid to struggle for fear of cutting herself, she confined her protest to a muffled groan as she saw her lovely tresses begin to pile up in the filthy straw. When his thighs finally loosened, freeing her head, she dropped into the mess below her, wallowing in straw and her own hair, but not caring. His very first assault has taken the prize of my beauty, and in a sense my value, so will Master Justus still want me as his slave?
Hearing his boots leave the stall, she hoped to be left alone in her misery, but, he came back quickly jerking her head up to allow her to look into a jagged piece of broken mirror he held in front of her eyes. How many other slavegirls have looked upon their ugliness for the first time through this crude mirror? The actual damage was far worse than she had imagined, as while some areas were shorn nearly bare, others had mangled tufts of hair still pushing out. There were two cuts, where his knife had cut too close, and they oozed blood onto her head.
Forced to look at her lost beauty for several moments, she simply stared at the girl in the broken portal, not believing it was herself. Finally, he turned her head loose, tossed the mirror on the stall floor, and strode behind her. No longer able to see him, she feared what came next.
“Some anal retraining is called for, to teach you your bottom hole is property, to be used as Masters see fit.”
Hands grasped her hips, and Varius’ shaft thrust deep into her bowels, spreading and stretching her back tunnel to the maximum extent. Howling out her pain at the vicious impalement, she had no choice but to take the anal pounding. His deep stroking burned her rectum horribly, bringing a pain almost unbearable to her.
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