Part 12 ==========
The daily meal routine is always the same, clean the row of cauldrons and fill them with water from the ships recycler. Set them to boil while the Gamorian fetches a crate of expired imperial Military surplus food ration bars from the stores.
Then the galley slaves set to work peeling off the wrappers and dumping the protein blocks into the pot.
Other slaves stirred the mix with huge paddles. The Gamorian grumbles instructions and the droid translates "he says Stir harder! You have to boil and mash to kill all the grubs and beetles!"
Once it's boiling again the slaves drag out a sack of algae flakes. They add a scoop full to each cauldron and stir as it thickens up to make gruel.
Then a cargo droid collects a cauldron and a squad of armoured guards lead it to a hold, where each slave gets a bowl of gruel and a cup of water a day.
She works there for three meals, three days of boiling, cleaning and sleeping in a pile of sacks under one of the tables. The other slaves in the galley won't talk to her, or get too close. They seem scared of her.
Three nervous days waiting for the next blow to fall…. Then one of the guards comes stamping into the galley after the meal rounds are done.
"Where is the pleasure slave?"
The Gamorrian grunts and points to her sat in a pile of food wrappers. She feels a moment of breathless panic but fights it down. No way to run. No place to hide. The only way to survive is to go through.
She answers "Here, sir" and kneels, waiting his command.
"The Captain wants you, come with me" the guard says, then turns and walks off. She hurries to follow and he leads her up stairs and ramps, tubes and corridors into part of the ship that seems to have been actually made for people, not retrofitted into the cargo holds. There are actual floors, walls with doors in. The off duty guards are lazing about, still armed and armoured but most have their helmets off. As she's led through the corridors they stop what they're doing and watch, several following them as the guard leads her into a room with actual furniture and carpet on the floor.
Captain Snake beard is sat on one of the chairs, casually scrolling through a data pad. Sat around him are several others she assume are the ships officers, all well dressed and armed with an air of casual violence about them. Further back an old 2-1B medical droid is unpacking a medical station onto a table.
She drops instinctively to her knees.
He looks up and the tentacles on his chin writhe. "Ah, So here's the little pleasure slave" he gestures with the data pad. "So, are you really worth what these say?
"I don't know, master."
"well, where are you from, girl?"
"Corellia, Master."
"Not a planet famed for its slaves. You're pretty, I'll give you that, but why this much?"
"I don't know master. My duty is to serve, not know things"
Snake beard raises an eyebrow
"Is that a smart mouth I hear?"
She looks down at the ground, heart and mind racing "No master. But if I may speak?"
"You may, girl. But watch your tongue"
"Perhaps you are looking at the transaction the wrong way round. Perhaps I am merely the excuse for someone to pay a lot of money to someone else."
"So they over value you, someone buys you but gets something else as well, neat way to pass a chunk of cash about legally"
"and as the ship was taken by pirates, one no one can disprove. In fact, if the lot was insured no one would be out of pocket"
"Are you saying you were deliberately overvalued as a tax cheat?"
"it's certainly possible, Master"
He throws back his head and laughs, then holds up the pad again
"So, was this rating faked as well?"
She blushes and looks away.
His laugh becomes a knowing smirk. "Seems there is some truth to it"
See, i don't trust droids to rate merchandise like this, there's a certain glow about a slave girl at her Masters feet that droids just don't see."
She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor.
"Now, let's get that brand looked at. Up girl, and bend over that table"
She stands and hurries to the table in front of the medical droid. It's low enough that she can bend over and lay on it while her feet still just touch the floor. She stretches her arms out above her head, her feet apart, knowing she's giving the whole room a perfect view of her most intimate parts. From the murmur of appreciation she's definitely got an audience, she glances back to see more of the crew have stopped by to watch and more in the doorway. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, giving them a little show as the medical droid runs its scan.
Snake beard looks the results over and turns to the medical droid, confused. "The medical scanner is giving me some weird readings. Are you sure these are correct?"
The Droid runs the scanner over her again then confirms "The readings are correct. While surface tissue is well healed the underlying tissue still shows trauma."
"It's like it's still fresh. Can you peel it?"
"Not without risk of rejection or scarring. I could skin over it, but just adding a cancel brand would be easier."
Snake beard nods "Do that then". He runs a possessive hand over Qi'ra's upturned ass, up onto her waist then onto her metal belt. He pushes it down and the table clicks, locking the belt in place. He keeps his hand moving up, pressing her to the table, tracing her brand with a fingertip then locking her collar down onto the table as well. Finally he locks her wrist cuffs in place, leaving her stretched out immobile.
He casually strokes the stubble on her scalp as the droid shuffles its tools. She presses back onto his hand, moving her head to savour the possessive weight of his hand on her.
The Droid produces a stylus with a red hot tip and artfully etches a string of numbers under her brand. The touch is agony, a feather light touch that leaves a line of fire across her skin.
"Done" It cocks it's head, checking the writings alignment. "Should pass as valid"
"Good. Pack up and get back to medical"
She slumps down on the table, shaking. Snake beard circles the table, then bends to fix chains from the table corners to her ankle cuffs.
"Now, I've a crown for the little pleasure princess" He opens a case and holds up a metal circlet for her to see. "this little beauty is illegal in seventeen civilised systems but it is just about the best teacher a slave can have."
He puts the metal ring over her head, so it ran across her brow.
"You see, the prongs at the back read neural activity in the brain." She can feel the two blunt prongs press into the back of her head. He touches a control on the front and she feels cold metal dig into her skin over her temples.
"These at the front directly stimulate the pleasure centres of your brain, by exactly the same amount as the device reads. Pleasure is added on top of pleasure"
The spikes at her temples are still pushing, turning; she feels them break the skin, she screams as she can feel it screw in until the points grind into the bone of her skull.
"But there's more. Every emotion, every sensation it reads is made pleasurable. It's surprising how fast the brain adapts to constant jolts of stimulation. You'll learn to love fear and pain for the jolt of pleasure they'll bring. Soon just the thought of it will give you a thrill; I'll whip you and you'll whimper and beg for the lash."
He laughs and activates the crown. She shudders as a wave of warmth runs down her spine, as she pulls at the unrelenting metal of her bonds they dig in and the pain flares with pleasure. It really works as he said. She panics, struggling harder but then feels the panic matched by a gathering heat in her loins, the desire making her wet and eager, grinding against the table, feeling her nipples hard on the cold metal and loving it.
Snakebeard takes up a long leather strap. "I see it's working" he lashes the strap across the back of her thighs, the sudden sting of pain making her cry out then moan as the flood of pleasure overwhelms her.
He keeps going, slowly methodically working the lashes up her thighs to her ass, taking his time and letting the pain and pleasure intoxicate her.
It's all she can do to moan "No.. please… stop… no more… " but as he lands the strap across the sweet spot on the curve of her buttocks again and again she can't help moaning "more.. please.. more" then cry out as the blow pushes her over the edge. Screaming, she comes harder than she has ever felt, the device magnifying everything. Snake beard rubs his fingers between her legs, feeling how wet she is, lips puffy and swollen, slips a finger into her and feels her grip onto it.
"Very good. You are a natural at this, you'll break in very nicely" He unbuckles his pants, pulling out a thick purple grey cock with stubby tentacles around the head. "Let's see how you feel"
With a thrust he slides into her, so wet and eager she takes him in without a pause. She gasps, breathless, feeling him push deep into her, stretch her out, fill her in a way she's never experienced. Real and fake pleasure war in her brain, sensations piling on top of each other as he grips her belt and starts to thrust into her. The physical sensation is overwhelming, it feels like he's swelling in her, growing to massive proportions as the sensations are magnified again and again. In a small part of her brain she understands it's a feedback loop, signals feeding on themselves, no wonder its banned as it could do real damage to peoples brains as well as scar their sanity, make them loose who they are.
The real risk is fighting it, the machine is unrelenting and emotionless, and it doesn't care what it reads and what it does. But it's not telling her anything she doesn't already know. She just has to accept she's a slave and that being owned arouses her. It's who and what she is.
She cries out, submitting to the helplessness and horror of her situation. Her orgasm takes Snakebeard by surprise, feeling her pulsate and grip around him pushes him over the edge, he grunts then pushes in deep, cumming himself. Damn she's good. He pulls free, resting his hand on the table as he catches his breath.
She squirms against her bonds, the crown echoing the orgasm in her head.
Straightening, he tucks his softening cock away and turns to the crew. He holds his hands up, both fingers and thumbs describing a circle. "Ok, line up! if you're smaller than this, use the top orifice only. Between these two, either is fair game. Larger than this, sorry you can't play today. Go get a tongue and tug job off the twi-leks, they've not been fed in a day or two. Those of you with knots, spines or barbs need to put a sheath on it. Remember, any Permanent damage comes out your wages. Anyone who kills her gets fed to the flesh raider, understood?"
The crew mutter understanding as they push and shove to form a semi orderly line.
Snake beard jams a wadded up Oily rag into her mouth and holds it in place with a hide strap he buckles around her head.
"Enjoy yourself, girl. You're entertaining the whole crew"
She loses track of time and how many people use her, she's fucked so much she loses the capacity for conscious thought, reduced to a body which is simply used and responds.
Finally she's aware that it's stopped. She slowly starts to pull herself back together. She has survived.
From the doorway behind her she hears a synthetic voice protest indignantly
"I say! Stop this! Please! This is not my intended function."
The crew relaxing round the room look up and a few start laughing
One asks "You spot welded a dildo to the cooks talkie droid?"
"Yeah, watch. We rigged his actuator motors to reciprocate." He presses a button fixed to the droids back and it's pelvis jackhammers back and forth. "He can go all night"
"Well, she's taken all comers so far, just keep him lubed up, don't want friction burns."
"Oh, we thought of that. he has a squirt function" the droids dildo buzzes and shoots a rope of thick pearlescent lube. The crew all laugh.
Later still, the room is dark and finally empty. She's quiet and still, breathing slowly. Her body is one huge ache, every muscle sore, her cunt and ass violated until they're just feel swollen and torn, flooded with a rainbow of body fluids.
A female twi'lek enters the room, naked except for a metal collar. She's carrying a bucket and cloth, which she sets down by the table. Wordlessly she unbuckles the gag and lets Qira breathe freely.
"thank you" she whispers.
The Twilek wets the cloth in the bucket and gently wipes her face over. "You've been through a lot"
Qi'ra just rests her head and sobs.
The Twilek wets the cloth again and washes her back, the kindness of her touch stirring the crowns feedback again, bringing a soft pleasure.
"You did well to last, he's ruined more than a few girls with that device"
"can you.. can you turn it off?"
"No, only the captain can" the Twileks eyes go wide "is it still on?"
Qi'ra nods sullenly. "Everything feels good. Even the bad. I can hardly tell what is real"
The Twilek wets the cloth again and starts to wipe down her thighs.
"It's all real, you have to accept that. Some is just forced upon you"
Qi'ra shudders, the cold wet rag on her thighs making her shiver with delight.
"You have to learn to live with it. Accept it and it'll make your life easier than fighting it"
The cold rag rubs across the aching lips of her cunt, slow deliberate strokes.
"you've been used hard for their pleasure. Let me give you something of your own"
Crouching behind her, the Twi'lek starts to lick at her, her tongue darting back and forth across aching soreness. Qi'ra breathes slowly and deeply, trying to relax and enjoy it, not let herself dwell on her situation.
The twi'lek buries her face in Qi'ra, hot little tongue lapping round the nub of her clit.
The tension gathers in her, but her mind revolts "No, no. I don't want to come. I don't want any of this!"
The Twi'lek lifts her head "you have to live with it. I was a weaver til someone saw me dance. "
She strokes her lekku, the twi'lek head tendrils
"They all wanted you. There is power in that"
Taking one tendril in each hand, she slips one into Qi'ra's gaping ass, the other into her cunt. Stroking her helpless girls clit with her fingers, the twi'lek shudders at the sensation
"This is your life now. Accept it"