tagSci-Fi & FantasyHeroes of Herodor Ch. 02

Heroes of Herodor Ch. 02

bySuperjoe99999©

"...him up."

The drone of the machines. Tommy's eyes creakedopen again.For a moment he wondered if the encounter had been a dream. Then he wondered if the Princess had come back for seconds. Despite her attitude, it was something he would have welcomed.

No such luck, as it turned out, as he saw the Emperor lean down and look him in the eyes. "Well," Saar said with a wide smile, "you're awake."

"Rrnnn." Tommy couldn't make the words form.

"Ah yes, a side effect, I'm afraid. No matter, since I shall be talking and you shall be listening."

Tommy wondered what the bastard's reaction would be if he found out his daughter had just fucked him. Somehow he figured it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Normally I don't concern myself with the wellbeing of the condemned, but in you case I felt certain answers were in order. Of course, since you're due to be atomized in twelve standard hours, you won't have much time to reflect on them. Still as they say, it's the thought that counts"

The table slowly rode upright, revealing Darhon and the lady general in the room, as well as a technician. Saar stood in the front, hands clasped behind his back. "When I targeted your planet for destruction, it was merely an attempt to relieve the boredom that is one of the many prices I must pay for ultimate power. When that attempt failed, and the Positronic Amplifier Gun was destroyed, I was initially surprised, than somewhat irritated, since it will be at least two years before it will be rebuilt. But when you described the technology your world used to deflect it, well then things changed some more."

"Every hundred years, the Eyes of Saar scan the heavens, seeking any world that might pose a threat to my power. How we missed your world is strange, but it seems fortune has again shown me her love. It is clear that this technology, this power source, is till new to your world, and it will be a long time before it can be put to any practical use. Nonetheless, such power is a threat to us, and must destroy it."

"Rnngh!"

"Why, you may ask. The answers are simple. To protect my power, and to display the awful penalty suffered by those who resist us! And of course, the amusement it shall provide is always an added bonus. It will take two years to rebuild the Great Gun. This time it will be even greater than before, an amusing project to while away my idle moments. And when it is completed, it shall be fired again, and this time your world shall be destroyed utterly and completely!"

"RRHHH!!" Tommy strained against the restraints, the meal clamps creking ominously, his vision turning red with rage. Saar merely smiled.

"Of course, you will be long dead before then. But I though you would appreciate knowing." Turning to Darhon, he said, "Throw him in the pit." And with that he walked out.

Tommy had the sensation of floating, and then began to move. With a shock he realized the table was floating over the ground, some sort of anti-grav technology. Amazed, he wondered how it worked, and then wondered with despair what was going to happen to him.

The left the room and went down a long wide hallway lined with guards. At the end was a teleportation pad. He was unstrapped from the table, two burly techs flinging his limp body onto the pad He looked up just in time to see the red buzzing light engulf him, the sensation of being torn apart and put back together in microseconds.

And then he was hanging in mid air, surrounded by total gloom. He was surprised, and then suddenly fell six feet, landing on a hard stone slope. Rolling down, he tumbled to a halt on a rough stone floor, pebbles digging into his naked skin. Tommy tried to sit back up, but no strength was left in hi. Above, he could see the faint outlines of a metal door, with stone wall around it. And then yet that point he just gave up, and decided now was a good a time as any to pass out.

"Your Majesty," Darhon told the Emperor as they watched the Earthman being carried away to his fate, "I believe your daughter paid him a visit earlier."

"Really?" Saar said. "The girl has been developing some odd tastes recently. Still, I suppose she is entitled to her amusements."

"Indeed Sire. Also, I have word from Farkelia."

"Yes?"

"One of our garrisons was attacked. Half the soldiers were slain, and all the weapons and supplied stolen."

"And?"

Darhon paused a moment. "Toran led the attack."

"That boy will be the death of me!" Saar's face flushed with rage. Along the walls the guards stiffened with terror. When the Emperor was angry, people tended to die.

Only Darhon stood unmoved. "Their trail was followed into the Jungles of Kreah, and then lost."

"The gofmiki must be giving him shelter." Saar composed himself. He could vent his anger later. Several of his concubines had ceased to please recently, making them perfect for some of his more...exotic tastes. If they were lucky they might even survive. "Find him, Darhon, And bring him to me alive. Whatever the cost."

"As you command, Majesty."

The guards escorted Amy towards a giant set of double doors, closed with an elaborate lock.

She still felt a bit woozy from the ordeal with the chair. Her head was in the grip of a massive migraine, and she felt drymouthed. When she awoke, she was no longer in it, and had been taken in stead to a recovery room, where she was allowed to wash, and then given new clothes to wear, although they hardly merited the name. In fact, the dress was nothing more than a sing long strop of sheer silk, a hole cut in the top for her head, that covered his front and back, and left her sides exposed. A silken cord acted as a belt of sorts. It was the sort of outfit that left very little to the imagination, the ends trailing between her legs, her arms across her chest to keep her breasts from flying free. Her hair was left unbound and hung free past her shoulders.

The funny thing was, the sensation of the cloth rubbing against her skin was far from unpleasant. In fact, now that she thought about it, it was...arousing. The tech had mentioned heightened sexual sensitivity. Was this what she meant. It made his skin shiver, and her nipples tingle.

The door opened, and an older woman, dressed severely in a high necked, long sleeved dress appeared. "I will take her," she said. The guards bowed and stepped away. The woman walked forward, looking at her critically, like the schoolteacher from hell examining a new student, one who immediately failed to measure up. "Your name?"

"What?" Amy asked, and then her face snapped back as the woman's palm cracked against it. "You bitch!" shrieked, coming forward, finger like claws. A moment later she was on the ground,, her arm gripped behind her in a vise-like grip.

"You will address me as Madame Chara," she hissed, hauling Amy to her feet. "And the next time you show such disrespect, I will give you thirty lashes with the neurowhip. You are lucky the Emperor demands you be treated gently. Or else...." She left the threat unspoken.

Eyes still flashing with rage, Amy bit back the insult on her tongue. She would settle with this old cow later. "I understand," she said, her teeth grit.

Madame Chara smiled thinly. "You have spirit. Good. You will need it in here." And with that she strode through the doors, Amy hurrying after her.

They entered a large antechamber, framed with pictures of beautiful woman in various poses. "The Great Seraglio of the Emperor," Madame Chara said. " Is divided into two areas." At the end of the room another door opened, and they steppe din a vast hall, open windows letting in daylight. Dozens of pools and fountains filled the place with the sound of splashing water. Women, hundreds of them, lounged on couches and cushions, slave girls attending to their needs. All were young, and lovely, and dressed in much the same way as Amy. Many were bedecked with jewelry. "The Hall of Waters," Madame Chara said. "This is part of the Lesser Seraglio. Here member of the court who possess the Emperors favor may come to enjoy the company of the Lesser Concubines." She pointed at a richly dressed man, one she recognized from the audience, feeding a small orange tidbit to a blond girl by a statue of a nymph. "But you will be not here."

They went down a side passage, one that was barred at the end with a barred gate. Madame Chara placed her hand before a silver plate, and it swung open." The Hall of Pillars," she said as they entered. Amy took two steps in and then halted, eyes wide and mouth open at what she saw.

The place was as big as a football field. Twelve rows of stone pillars, carved in the shape of men and women engaged in various acts of sexual congress, stretched across it. By each one was a naked women, attached to the pillar by a long chain, the cuff on her ankle or wrist. Each was more beautiful than the last, and as Madame Chara entered they raised their hands and called out to her. "Forgive me...free me....let me have release...."

"This is where concubines who displease us ion some way are sent," Madame Chara said with a sneering smile. Striding past the chained woman, she ignored their cries with contempt. Amy couldn't help but stare though. On the face of every one of them was deep despair, and something else. Their eyes were feverish, their skin flushed. Many caressed their breasts and maidenheads with one hand while the other reached out for mercy. For a moment she thought they were ill. Then she realized that each and every one of them was consumed with deep lust, gripped by sexual desire so strong and powerful that it was unquenchable, and permanent.

"Are they always like this?" she whispered.

"They are," Madame Chara replied. "They have been exiled here for various offenses. Any member of the court who doesn't possess the Emperors favor, or any of his elite guards and soldiers—except for the Thraxor, of course—may come in and have use of them." She pointed at one of the girls, who lay slumped on the floor, breathing heavily. Around her neck was a slim silver collar, with seven glowing spots blinking on the side. "The collar immediately places them in a high state of sexual arousal, and keeps them there permanently. It also prevents them from achieving orgasm. Every time sometime make use of their bodies, that level is increased, and maintained. The more they are taken, the greater it's strength." She looked down at the girl, who was weeping softly, sorrow mixing with lust in a face turned savage by desire. "And no release is possible."

"None," Amy asked, feeling ill.

"Almost none. There is one way to relief, and freedom from the collar. After all, what is punishment with the hope of forgiveness? There is a element of randomness built into each collar. There is a certain combination of symbols that will allow the woman to achieve orgasm, and unlock the collar. Every time they are used for pleasure, the symbols begin cycling randomly. If the right sequence is reached when they stop, they will be released, allowed to cum, their punishment considered over. Of course, with one thousand symbols for each section, the chance is fairly small."

Like a slot machine, Amy realized, only the payout wasn't in quarters. "How long does that take?"

Madame Chara smiled evilly. "One girl was in a collar for fifteen years, before she gained her freedom. Of course, by then she had become so crazed with sexual want that she was effectively insane, and when she orgasmed, she died from the shock."

They continued onwards, through another side passage, this one curving a bit, before finally arriving in another complex of rooms. If anything these were even more sumptuously decorated, with many portraits of the Emperor interposed between images of sexual scenes. The woman lounging here were even more beautiful than the last. And each and everyone looked at Amy with raw hate. She was a rival for their master's attention. Whoever bedded the Emperor gained status beyond measure, even if it was only for one night.

"The Inner Seraglio," Madame Chara said. "Here the great Concubines, all nine hundred of them, are kept. They belong to the Emperor alone, and you are one of them." Taking Amy by the arm, she led her into another chamber, a thick door sliding closed behind them.

Madame Chara turned to Amy. "The Emperor will be here shortly. You have been given the knowledge and abilities to pleasure him in the ways he demands. You will submit to his desires."

"I will not!" Amy shot back, and was pleased to see Madame Chara turn beet red. Defiance wasn't something the old hag witnessed very often.

"You will! You exist only for his pleasure...."

"I'll kill myself first," Amy shrieked back. "After I kill you, you fucking bitch! I'm no whore!"

"No, you are not," Madame Chara replied, unhooking a metal baton from her belt. It extended, and began to crackled with energy. "Whore's get paid." She jabbed Amy with the baton.

Amy shrieked as pain coursed through her body. Every nerve was on fire, she was being skinned alive, her eyeballs were boiling in their sockets. And then, just as suddenly it was gone, only a faint tingled remaining. She looked up, gasping, and saw the tip of the neurowhip only inches from her face.

"You are nothing!" Madame Chara said with white-hot fury. "You are only a piece of meat, sent to fill our Master's hunger. If you do not submit eagerly and with legs spread wide and wet the hall of Pillars will the least of your worries...."

"That won't be necessary." Another voice intruded. A male voice. The Emperors voice. Both turned, and saw Saar emerge from a wall, the stone rippling about him. He wore a simple robe, open at the chest to display his lean, muscled body.

Madame Chara knelt, head bowed. "Forgive me, Dread Majesty. But she....."

"I know. A certain amount of fire in my pets in desirable, but outright defiance will not be allowed." He fixed her with his eyes, those terrible eyes, and she felt rooted to the spot, like a deer caught in headlights. "I think this one will require greater effort in breaking." He paused a moment, then smiled. "The Rack of Desire."

Madame Chara stood slowly, a look of terrible glee on her face.

It took four guards to hold Amy down while the device was wheeled into the room. Two metal pillars, with black ropes tipped with cuffs, two on each one, set at arm and ankle height. Not very impressive looking, she thought as they carried her up.

Amy screamed, kicking and struggling., One of the guards flew back as her foot connected with his head. The Emperor, watching the scene, laughed with amusement. "She has fire," he said to no one in particular. He watched as the guards, with much confusion and yelps of pain, strapped her in. Wristcuffs clicked around her arms, leg bracelets were snapped, the ropes tightened until her feet were pulled against the poles. He robe, by nor mussed and skewed, was stripped away, and she stood in naked glory, skin flushed with exertion, panting heavily. She struggled against the bind, but saw it was useless. Her arms had some movement to them, and should found she could bring them to her lips, but no where else on her body.

Saar then stepped into her vision. "Comfortable?" he asked mockingly.

"Fuck you!"

He laughed at that. "I find your defiance very amusing. I look forward to watching it break."

"I'll never submit to you!"

"Oh you will." H stepped forward, eyes glittering. "And you will do it willingly. In fact, you will beg me to use you for my pleasure. On you knees you will beg."

"In your dreams, asshole!"

Saar paused a moment. It had been some time since anyone had the gall to insult him. "When cannot take anymore, you will submit. All you have to do to be released is say to me, 'I am the possession of Great Saar. I exist only for his pleasure.' And then you will be released."

"I'll die of old age before I say that!"

"I don't think so. And I have a gift for you. Two in fact."

Amy gasped as she saw Madame Chara approach with a silver collar in her hand. "Noo!" she screamed, struggling, as the cold metal slid around her neck. She heard the soft click of it snapping closed. And then her knees buckled, as a wave of sexual desire flooded through her like wildfire. She slumped against the restraints, gasping before getting back to her shaky feet.

"It always affects them so the first time," the Emperor said. He held up his hand, revealing a small, round sphere, made of some black material. Soundlessly it rose up into the air, and drifted across the room. Amy's eyes watched it as it halted before her belly, then descended down to between her knees. Slowly it rose, until it was gently touching her lower lips and clit, as soft as a feather.

And then, with a buzzing sound, it began to vibrate rapidly. She gasped again, hips churning as the sensation filling her lower parts, and s[read. It was unbearable, torture, driving her crazy. Instinctively she drove her herself downwards, but the sphere moved with her, always remaining in the same position on her body.

She was burning like flame. Her body screamed for release. She could feel the collar grow warm, feel it block the orgasm from happening. She screamed with rage and frustration. And then the sphere moved away, leaving her hanging on the restraints. Her levels of lust had been increased tenfold, it seemed. And it remained that way. She was incredibly, insanely aroused. If she had been in a locker room with a high school football team, she realized numbly, she could have done every member two times over, and still have space left for thirds. And that arousal, that massive lust, was not receding. It remained constant, holding her in its vicelike grip with no sign of retreat.

Looking up, she saw the Emperor smile. And then, without a word, he left, the others following.

Ten minutes later the sphere returned, and it all began again.

It was the smell Tommy noticed first. Musty, dank, with a hint of urine and worse, it crept up his nostrils and into his lungs, despite attempts to breath shallow. He waited for the ringing in his ears to fade before daring to open his eyes.

The stone chamber was better lit this time, some faint illumination coming from a narrow light strip on the ceiling. Years worth of debris was piled in the corners. Sprawled against one wall was—he blinked to make sure he wasn't hallucinating—was a skeleton, dust and rags hanging of the bones. Tommy felt like vomiting, except he hadn't had anything to east in two days.

He tried to stand, his legs shook and he plumped back down on the hard stone floor. Holding his heads in his hands, he wondered what was going to happen next.

A blanket landed before him, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Opened his eyes, he saw a man leaning against the wall, dressed in rags, face and head hidden by overgrown hair. He watched as Tom wrapped the blanket around his wait, then slid a bowl fill with a gray gruel across the floor. "Eat," he said, his voice quiet.

Tom picked the bowl up. The gruel smell faintly acrid and looked as appealing as whale vomit, but at the moment he was so ravenously hungry he didn't care. Scooping it up with his fingers, he did his best to ignore the taste. As he ate, the man said, ""I was hungry the first time I woke up in here. Takes terrible, but when you've eaten it as long as I, the taste becomes part of your tongue."

Tom looked up. "How long have you been here?"

"Seven years." He then grinned, teeth yellowed. "But don't worry. Most others they toss in here tend to be taken out in a few days."

"Well, that's good."

"Not really. They go straight to their execution."

"Oh."

The man shifted a bit. "I'm Temmen."

"Tom."

"Right. So...Tom, what did you do to get thrown in here?"

Tom hesitated. He didn't know this guy. For all he knew, he might be sharing his cell with a mass murderer.

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