On the planet of Farpost, there are no prisons. The punishment for severe crimes is Judicial Slavery. This is the story of one such slave. In this final chapter, slave shishi experiences the room of pain with her master.
642 is the story of a young woman on a distant planet in the distant future who is wrongfully convicted of theft and sentenced to two years of judicial slavery. This book, divided into twelve chapters, is her mind diary as her slavery goes through some very interesting– and erotic– twists. This is the final chapter.
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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age of 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2021 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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Chapter Twelve - A Gold-eyed Slave
Cycle 4378, Day 421
I have decided to move my daily mind records out of my diary and just make a record of what has happened in the past weeks. It is not that I want to hide anything from anyone, it is just that things were so overwhelming that my thoughts were too chaotic to make sense... to me or to other people who may some day read my diary.
Master has been off planet for the past week on business. Hopefully he will be home tonight. If he is I will be ready– and anxious– for him. I am currently seated at a desk in my new bedroom. It is a slave’s bedroom, but it is the most luxurious slave’s bedroom on Farpost. And it is connected directly to my Master’s sitting room. That is what he calls the room just outside his bedroom where we take our evening meal when he is home.
My old slave collar sits on a little shelf above my desk. The clock display is still counting down. According to it my judicial slavery is nearly half completed and I have 358 days remaining, but in reality I am now a permanent slavewife of Master Karl Burcroft. He wanted to throw the old collar away, but I begged to be able to keep it. It is a reminder of how I came to be slavewife to Master Karl.
My new collar is, of course, around my neck. It is a beautiful soft, black leather collar. On the front in golden *********** similar to my old collar it says, “shishi.” And beneath that in a regular, but very ornate ***********, it says, “Slavewife of Master Karl Burcroft.” My eyes still fill with tears when I look at that collar in my mirror. But unlike the tears that came when I first looked at my old collar, these are tears of joy.
I still have trouble looking at my face in the mirror... well, not my face, my head. I expect there to be hair on my head, but there isn’t. There is just a tattoo that looks like hair. The laws on Farpost are very strict. It is forbidden for a shorn slave– even a slavewife– to wear a wig or any other hair covering. Besides, the tattoo of a slave rope would still be visible on my back.
That tattoo has changed. There is a gold ribbon that Master had worked in over the original. It is real gold, just like the ribbon a slavewife would wear in her rope. The gold ribbon starts in the front almost like a crown and then winds back into the rope. The tattooing on my head hurt a little, but the ribbon going down my back hurt a LOT. Master asked if I wanted something to dull the pain, but I said no.
He didn’t give me a choice when they applied the gold to my eyelids. He said it was because they had to be sure that I didn’t move. I expected it to be like when they made me a purple-eyed slave, but they didn’t give me the same sort of drugs that they used then. As before, I could not move and was aware of what was happening, but there was no pain at all.
I was afraid of what they would have to do to change my purple eye pearls to gold, but Madame Loretta just used a strange thing that looked like a screwdriver with a hollow blade and unscrewed them. There is a little post on the bottom of the pearl that went down into my skin and screwed into whatever it is that is embedded in my skull. “Pearls break,” she said flatly, “so they have to be easily replaced. Besides, it’s not like you are going to put the wrong color in or go without.” She batted her eyes as she said, “The eyes tell all.”
Then she smiled at me and touched her eye pearl. I gasped slightly. I had never noticed before that her eye pearls were only half purple. The bottom half was clear like glass. I think she means that to proclaim that she is slave in name only.
Slave lucida is still with me always. She even has a bed in the corner of my room. But when Master is away she sleeps with me in my bed. We have grown very close to each other. She jokes about washing my hair when getting me ready for nights with Master, but all she has to do is clean and oil my body.
Just before he left, Master took me over to see the new House of Free Women. The title to the house and land are in Master Karl Burcroft’s name, but there are also legal documents saying that Madame Loretta has full authority as if it were her own. Mandy and Mindy– that’s 33 and 34's names now that they are free– run the house on a day-to-day basis. Madame Loretta has a special room on the top floor for when she wants to be alone or is in the mood to entertain a special guest.
The day Master and I were there an obviously very rich young man came swaggering into the house. He asked for time with Madame Loretta. Mindy told him that wasn’t possible but she or Mandy or any of the other women could fulfill all of his expectations. He said, “But I wanted to be able to tell my friends that I spent a night with Madame Loretta.” He set a small bag on the counter that clinked like it was filled with gold coins and said, “I’m willing to pay whatever it takes.”
Madame Loretta was standing nearby with us. She walked silently over to the young man, leaned over his shoulder and said, “Trust me, son, you would never survive an hour with me, let alone a night.”
The man shrieked and ran out the front door. There was a wet spot on the front of his pants that went all the way down one leg. I wonder if he told his friends that Madame Loretta scared the piss out of him– for free.
When Madame Loretta returned, Master said to me, “There are many interesting rooms in The House of Free Women. Is there anything you would like to experience? We could make love in warm water... or oil. There are vibration devices of every sort. There is even a room with a powerful column of air so you can make love as if you were in outer space.”
I stayed silent for a long time. “What is it. shishi?” he said softly. “I’ll understand.”
“I want to experience the room of pain,” I said very softly.
“Haven’t you experienced enough pain in the mines,” Madame Loretta said. She looked concerned.
“More than enough,” I replied, “but Mindy and Mandy spoke of true erotic pain where you willingly allowed it with someone you loved. They said that once you got turned on enough, the pain was just like pleasure except it was more intense.
Master looked over at Madame Loretta. She paused for a short while and then said, “I know something that will work.” Then she said curtly to Mandy, “Prepare room 417.”
“417 it is,” Master said with a smile. Then he turned to me and said, “I hope this meets your expectations, shishi. Not everyone can enjoy pain like Mindy and Mandy.”
“I know,” I answered softly. Then I looked up at him and said, “But I will never know about me unless I try.”
Room 417 looked like a normal bedroom. There was a large four poster bed with posts as big as tree trunks. There were also chairs, a desk, and an attached bathroom. The one thing missing was a mattress or anything that looked like an actual bed. Instead there was just a thin mat on the floor between the four posts.
Madame Loretta had accompanied us up to the room. She said firmly to me, “Lie face up on the mat and raise your arms and legs slightly into the air.
I did and she pushed some buttons on a remote. Thick cables began to lower from the tops of the posts. There were large leather restraint cuffs on each cable. A much smaller cable descended from the center of the ceiling above the bed. There was a strange small chain with three weird-looking clamps attached to that chain.
“I think you know what to do from here,” she said.
Master laughed and replied, “I think I can figure it out.”
He was still laughing slightly as he wrapped the restraint cuffs around my hands and feet. The ones on my hands came all the way up into my palms so that I could more or less hang on to them.
“Are you ready?” he asked and I said “Yes.”
The cables all began tightening and I was lifted up into the air until I was spread-eagled almost at the top of the posts. Master was standing between my legs. My cunt and ass were at his eye level. He was again laughing slightly.
“I see you still use the red passion flower plug,” he said, stroking me lightly between the legs.
“It’s a new one,” I replied. “A gift from Madame Loretta. Look closer.”
He stepped further between my legs. I could feel his breath on my cunt and let out a small moan.
“Oh,” he said, “there is something carved in the center of the passion flower.”
He touched the plug and I bounced in my restraints. His touch, even though it wasn’t on my flesh, sent waves of warmth throughout my body.
“There is a little mouse in the center of the flower,” he said.
I said softly, “Madame Loretta said that I was the only shishi passion flower she had ever seen.”
Master tapped my plug with his finger and said, “The view is wonderful, but this seems a bit impractical. Then I heard some soft whirring and I began to lower. The pulleys at the top of the four posts were somehow sliding down. Evidently they were on a track of some sort. The tension on my arms and legs didn’t change, but I was now at Master’s waist level.
“Are you sure you want to play with pain?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“This will be relatively mild,” he said as he stepped alongside me and grabbed one of the strange clamps.
The handle of the clamp reminded me of an eye for some reason. Master pushed on the outside of the round handles and the clamp opened. He squeezed harder and the clamp opened even further.
As he fitted the clamp on my left nipple, he said, “The secret of these clamps is that as you pull on them...” He pulled slightly on the chain. “... they get tighter.”
I gasped slightly as the clamp squeezed my nipple. The clamp itself was padded, so it didn’t cut, but it was holding me very tightly. Master was humming to himself as he attached the clamp to my right nipple. He also tugged slightly on it so that the pressure was the same as on the left.
Then he held up the third clamp and asked, “Care to guess where this one is supposed to go?”
I just shook my head.
He reached down and began stroking my clit. I immediately began to respond and rock in my restraints. Then he said, “That looks good,” and put the clamp on my engorged clit.
I let out a stifled groan. It hurt, but it felt so good at the same time.
“I think I need to get out of these clothes before I finish preparing you,” he said softly and patted me on the tummy. “But first let me tighten your chains.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but he pressed a button on the remote and the small cable holding the clamp chain began tightening. I grunted several times as it pulled harder on my clit and nipples and, of course, clamped tighter. I found that I was pulling on my restraints to raise my body so that the pull of the clamps was less.
“That’s good,” Master said. “I will let you simmer like that while I get ready.”
I don’t know what he meant by simmer, but waiting for him to fuck me had the fires raging within me. And the pull of the clamps somehow made those fires even hotter. Again, they hurt. They really hurt, but they also felt good.
I had my eyes closed and was drifting with the sensations when suddenly I felt something warm and wet on my stomach. I opened my eyes and Master was rubbing some sort of oil or ointment on me.
“Madame Loretta said that this would increase your pleasure,” he explained. As he rubbed it over my breasts and down toward my cunt he added, “I don’t know what is in it, but it smells nice.”
I didn’t know what was in it either, but my body was on fire beneath his hands. I began to buck in my restraints, but each time I moved, the clamps grabbed me even tighter. If I lifted my hips, the tension in the chain became less, but I couldn’t keep my hips lifted very long. My body was undulating as if it were calling for Master to fuck me.
“I think you are ready,” he said as he positioned himself between my legs. He adjusted my height slightly and then pushed into me.
He gasped as I drew him into myself. Madame Loretta’s magic training machine had taught my cunt how to do that, but I hadn’t before had a chance to show Master. He started thrusting and I began bouncing myself against him as he thrust himself against me.
It was weird with me hanging in the air like that. It was almost as if I were floating. As he thrust himself hard into me, I rammed myself back against him as hard as I could. Moving my hips pulled on the chain and I could feel the clamps pulling and tightening on my clit and my nipples. It felt almost like my nipples were squashed flat, but it didn’t hurt. It had stopped hurting as I went higher and higher. Now it was just one more sensation. I tried to hold myself back like a good passion slave, but I lost my battle with my body and screamed and thrashed as an intense orgasm washed over me.
When I calmed down, Master was holding me by the hips so that he could remain inside me. Now the clamps were starting to hurt... all three of them. He pulled himself out and reached down to remove the clamp on my clit.
“No,” I said, “there is something else I want to do.”
“But aren’t they starting to hurt?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered, “but there is something else I want to do. I get no pleasure from it and I want it... and my pain... to be a gift to you.”
“What do you mean, my little shishi?” he asked and I tilted back my head and opened my mouth as wide as I could.
“Do you want this?” he asked.
“I want you to have this from me,” I answered.
He positioned himself at my mouth and slowly pushed himself in. I could feel him deep in my throat. I could not breathe, he was so deep. He pushed me away from him and I was able to grab a quick breath. The motion also pulled tightly on the clamps. I wanted to scream from the pain, but I could not.
Master pulled me fully back onto his cock. Again the motion pulled on the chains and again I couldn’t breathe. Master stood slowly there pushing me back and forth. I could see nothing but his balls and the bottom of his ass, but as he kept moving me, I could see his ass cheeks beginning to clench and his balls were being drawn tighter and tighter upward. Then with a sudden, very hard thrust, Master erupted inside me. I felt his prick twitch and spurt deep inside my throat.
The pain from the chains and from his prick being so deep inside my throat was tremendous, but when he groaned and spurted, the pain suddenly became something else. It wasn’t truly pleasure, but it was very intense. And it triggered an orgasm of sorts. It was an orgasm caused purely by knowing that I had given my Master... my husband Master... pleasure.
After he slowly pulled himself out of my throat, he asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I answered, “but next time, I think we will try the room with the strong winds.”
He just laughed and said, “I think it is time to go home.”
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I hear Master in his quarters. I am now all cleaned up and ready– in all ways– to eat with my Master. He knocks lightly on my door and says, “My little shishi, are you ready?”
“For everything,” I reply as I open the door.
The low table is already set for dinner. Master reclines on his thick mat. He offered to have a similar mat set at the table for me, but I told him that I had gotten used to kneeling at his table. I didn’t tell him that it was proper that as a slave– even though I am a slavewife– it is proper that I should kneel before my master. It brings me joy to know that I am a proper slave. Maybe I could have been a proper wife for some man but there is no way that I could have ever become wife of someone like Master Karl. It was only by becoming a slave that I was able to become slavewife to such a man– such a man who truly loves me.
One of the servers is standing next to the table. I wonder why he has not set the first course in front of us, but then Master speaks. “I have brought you back a little gift from the Areala system,” he says with a smile. Then he nods to the serving slave and the slave sets a prawn cup down in front of me.
“Oh Master!” I exclaim. “It is beautiful.”
We do not always have prawns, but Master knows they are my favorite. The cup is not crystal glass. It is golden. I lift it and it is very heavy. Perhaps it is pure gold. And on the rim of the cup with the prawns are two which are made of silver.
He reaches over and spears one of the real prawns with his prawn fork. I tilt back my head and open my mouth so that he may place it on my tongue. Somehow the ones he feeds me are more delicious than the ones I pick up myself.
“Thank you, Master,” I say softly once I have chewed and swallowed the prawn.
I ask Master about his trip. “It was uneventful,” he says with a smile. He laughs slightly and adds, “Uneventful is good.”
“Things were also uneventful here,” I say. “Slave lucida thanks you for her longer hobble chains.”
“That was so you didn’t have to walk so slowly for her to keep up with you,” he says. “If she attempts to run away again her chains will be even shorter.”
“She knows that,” I reply. “And she knows that if she tries to run away I will need to find a new slave companion.”
I pause and Master asks, “Is there something else?”
“Sometimes she intentionally displeases me,” I say. “It is as if she wants me to punish her.”
“Do you?” He asks.
“Yes, Master,” I reply. “I know that as a slave I should not punish another slave unless ordered to do so, but she pushes and pushes until I lose control and redden her ass with my hand.” I look down at the floor, “I have even used one of the punishment paddles on her.”
“And what does she do?” He asks.
“She screams and yells and begs me to stop,” I answer, “but when she gets up off my lap my legs are wet with her juices.” I again look at the floor. “Then she relieves my frustrations.”
Master laughs. “I see,” he says, still laughing. “Some slaves are that way,” he continues, “for some reason she needs the pain once in a while. And for obvious reasons, when I am away, your frustrations build. I think she is the perfect companion for you. Just be sure that you give her pain without injury.”
“I would never hurt her,” I gasp out. “I mean... I mean I would never injure her.”
“You would make a good Mistress,” he says thoughtfully. “It is a pity that the laws will not allow a slavewife to own other slaves.”
“Thank you, Master,” I say softly.
As the meal progresses, we talk of little things like an upcoming fair that he promises to take me to if he is on planet. I smile at him. He does not make such promises lightly. He must already know that he will be here during the fair.
The dessert is boujing, a light whipped sort of pudding that melts away in your mouth. I have to concentrate on eating it slowly so that Master and I will finish at approximately the same time. When Master calls upon the servers to clear the table, he reaches toward his wrist to seal off the room.
“Master,” I say quickly, “would you give me one more gift?”
“Anything... within reason, my shishi,” he answers.
I take several breaths building up the courage to ask. Then I say softly, “Would you leave the room unsealed so that I can record my thoughts directly to my lifepack tonight?”
His face has lost all traces of emotion. Have I angered him? He reaches out and strokes my face lightly. “Only until I fall asleep, shishi. I will set it so that when the skydome closes, the room will automatically seal.”
When we are in bed together, he always opens the skydome above the bed so that I can see the stars. He also always falls asleep before me, but has shown me where the button is to close the dome. It would close automatically before dawn, but he prefers it closed while he sleeps.
“Thank you, Master,” I say.
He rises and gestures for me to follow. Once in the bedroom, I undress him. He gives me a strange smile when his boxers land directly on top of his clothes folded on the chair. I wonder if he has been practicing that little kick he uses to flip them over there.
“I have a surprise for you,” I say as I lap lightly at the tip of his prick. It immediately springs to life.
“What is that, shishi?” he asks and I smile and answer, “You will see.”
I draw his prick into my mouth. I bob up and down on the shaft a few times and then hold still with the tip of his penis at the back of my tongue. Then I concentrate on doing what Madame Loretta said was impossible. No, I cannot actually milk his prick with my mouth, but I have used the muscle trainer to train my tongue to undulate along Master’s shaft. That combined with rhythmic sucking creates nearly the same effect as my cunt milking him.
He groans lightly as my tongue does its magic. For Master that is almost like totally losing control. I know that I have pleased him greatly. After a few minutes, he stiffens slightly and groans once more as he spurts into my mouth. I rise and go over to the small desk to rinse my mouth with wine. When I return he is already on the bed.
“Lie beside me,” he says and I do. The sky dome is open and the stars are visible above us.
He uses his hands to explore my body. It still feels strange when he runs his hands across my bald scalp, but somehow his touch on the bare skin of my head ignites the flames within me. Those flames grow hotter and hotter as his hands move down my body. I am already flowing heavily before his fingers touch the lips of my cunt, and I am rising high off the bed before he touches my clit.
“Please...” I groan out, but he says firmly, “Not yet.”
I am struggling to hold back my body. I am on fire. I am losing control. I raise myself up off the bed in a bow and suddenly he is plunging into me. When did he move to be between my legs?
He drives me back onto the bed and thrusts hard in and out of me. I try to lift myself to meet his thrusts, but each time he drives me back onto the mattress. The fires within me are burning into my mind. I can’t control what my body is doing. All I can feel is my Master so forcefully within me.
It is almost unbearable. Then I hear that slight groan and Master pins me to the bed and presses forcefully to hold me there. My body knows that it is time and I explode. Images of the past months flash before me. It is as if my mind is retelling the entire story of how I got to this exact point. Then everything is blinding white and I am overwhelmed with pleasure.
I don’t know how long my mind was overwhelmed, but now Master is lying on top of me slowly moving in and out. He is almost soft and soon he will fall out of me. He does, but he keeps moving slowly as long as I push up against him. Finally, I too lay still.
“Is my passion flower ready for sleep, my little shishi?” he says softly.
“Yes... no...” I reply. “I want to watch the stars.”
He laughs and says, “Someday, my little shishi, you will drain me dry.”
I climb over his body and rub my cunt lightly against his prick. Despite his protests, it comes immediately to life. I impale myself on him and sit looking up at the stars. My cunt automatically starts its milking action as he lightly rubs the outside of my legs with his hands. After a while I hear the soft groan and feel him spurt within me. I look down and his eyes are closed.
“What are you thinking, my Master?” I ask softly.
“I am thinking that tonight,” he says, opening his eyes and smiling at me, “and for all the nights to come, my Gold-eyed Slave will join me in our bed and watch the stars above our head.”
I fold myself down so that I can lie across his chest. “Thank you, Master,” I say as I reach up for the button that will close the sky dome and seal off the room. As the dome begins to close I think of Madame Loretta and realize that in my mind... and in the mind of my Master... I am no longer a slave. I am a wife... a free woman... who just happens to have some really strange tattoos.
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END OF 642
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The true rulers of this world, the credit card companies, have made it almost impossible to sell books with true BDSM themes. Erotic publishers will soon be a thing of the past. So I have pulled all of my books from the one publisher that I had left, and have decided to share them with my on-line followers.