Agent in Distress Ch. 15

Lana shook her head with sadness -- there was nothing she could do for the poor girl. If she freed her, that would likely just result in more punishment for the poor thing. She reached out with her mind, to try to calm her, and then Lana gasped as she was hit with a powerful mental image. Lana's mind clouded over, and for a moment, she became the brunette, trapped in the torture device all night. She could feel the rope, moving between her legs, and she jerked when one of the knots moved against her, the rough friction sending a jolt of intense sensations through her body. Lana's tried to close her thighs as the knot quivered, pressed against the hood at the top of her pussy, but it was impossible to protect herself from the rope.

Then a gust of wind whistled above her head, and the knot slipped past her tender, swollen clit to delve into her moist crevice. Lana moaned at the cruel device's sensual mixing of pain and pleasure, and she tensed nervously in antipication of the next knot. The burning caused by its passage faded slightly, but the rope still moved slowly back and forth, as if swaying with the wind, and Lana whimpered at the wet friction it caused. She'd been teased and tormented like this all night, and she had tried to make her body get used to the sensations, without much luck.

The slow movements were too erratic for her to find relief, so she was left in a constant state of intense, unquenched heat. At least the guards had mostly gone to sleep. When they were awake, they had come to touch her, playing with her breasts and poking their fingers in sensitive places. Lana had begged them to free her, and even to let her cum, but they'd laughed and slapped her bare ass with their rough hands. It was all because she had been rude to one of the male guests of her Masters. She would never do that again, she told herself over and over again. She'd be a good slave!

Suddenly the clouds dissipated from Lana's mind, and she found herself leaning against the wall of the hallway, next to the cell.

"Oh god, what just happened?" whispered Lana out loud. It was like waking up from the most intense dream, only it didn't dissipate immediately when she gained consciousness. By opening up her mind to try to soothe the girl's discomfort, Lana had been nearly overwhelmed by the feelings emanating from the girl. It must have been the fruit, which heightened her telepathic sensitivity so much that the girl's very thoughts became her own. Lana could still feel the soft rope moving between her legs, and the intense spasms the knots had caused in her body. Yet her breathing was quickly returning to normal, and her body's heat was subsiding, for it had been only in her mind.

She looked through the window again, marveling at the sight of the blond slave, whose mind she had been inside. She had to try again, to confirm the phenomenon, but this time she'd be ready. Lana closed her eyes, reaching out to the slave girl with her mind. She gasped as her mind clouded and again, she became the trapped slave girl. This time, Lana looked inward, let the slave girls thoughts mix with her own. The girl was filled with fear, which made Lana shudder as she experienced it directly. Looking deeper, Lana explored the girl's anxiety . . . it was fear of the things the slavers had done to her, but more than that, the girl feared she was losing herself, becoming a slave to pleasure, to the sensations and seductions of slavery. The girl feared that her inner defiant spirit was going to die forever. It was a feeling very familiar to Lana.

Just then the rope moved between the girl's thighs, and Lana gasped at the sensations, as real as if she were locked in the cell. She quickly retained her focus, and tried to soothe the girl's fears, to tell her that no matter what they did to her, they could not take away her self. That she could be strong in the inside, even if she were weak on the outside. She told the girl it was normal to feel pleasure, it was natural, and she should not be ashamed. Lana instinctively knew that by thinking these thoughts, they would filter over to the brunette, and hopefully ease her pain. Then the rope moved again between her legs, and Lana cried out in surprise, the explosion of sensations breaking the mental contact.

She found herself leaning against the wall again, panting to catch her breath as her thighs clenched tightly together. It had felt so real -- the rope, the fear of the slavers and their torments, and the feeling of helplessly succumbing to the urge to submit. Lana stood there burning with desire, trying to tell herself the thoughts were not her own. It took a few seconds before she had recovered enough to move back to the door, to peer through the bars. To her surprise, the girl was sleeping quietly, no longer moaning. It had worked! The brief connection of their minds seemed to have been a soothing experience for the slave girl, though it was anything but soothing for Lana.

Lana's eyes widened when she realized something. Much like she'd been able to mentally repair Warrick's damaged heart, the fruit seemed to enable her to aid this girl in just the way she needed, like a kind of mental massage. It was a powerful skill, but one she'd have to be careful using, for it was like opening a two-way road to another mind. Fortunately, it seemed to Lana that when the experience became too much, her mind instinctively broke off the connection.

Lana moved away from the door, satisfied that she had helped the other girl, to have a restful sleep if nothing else. She opened her mind again, looking for the telepath and quickly finding her. The woman seemed to be in trouble, her powerful mind filled with a jumble of emotions. Lana hurried, moving quietly through the sleeping camp, letting her mind guide her. She opened a door, and her heart skipped a beat.

It was the dining area before the outdoor courtyard, where she'd witnessed the interrogation of the telepath by Henri and Varga. The magistrate had led her here by the leash on her neck, then gagged her in this very room, and touched her breasts. He'd driven her mad with desire, and she remembered she'd begun to realize how helpless she'd be as his slave.. Lana's breasts felt tight and her nipples pressed urgently against her shift as she remembered what had taken place. She quickly moved on through the dining area, grateful that this time she wasn't bound, gagged and led by a leash on her collar.

She remembered two soldiers walking behind her, fantasizing outloud about taken her together, one from the front and one behind. Lana shook her head desperately trying to purge these terrible thoughts from her mind. She reached out with her mind, taking comfort in quickly finding the prisoner's mind, still anguished, almost calling for help.

Lana found her way through the corridors to the large wooden door, and cautiously opened it. The courtyard she remembered was now empty and poorly lit, the few sconces casting an eerie light on the sexual torture stations scattered about the large area. Lana sensed she had to cross it, so she quickly and quietly moved through the open courtyard, trying not to look at the now-empty stations. Yet she couldn't stop herself, as she passed the registration table that had been their first stop. She grimaced, for she knew what she'd seen next.

There. Three stations designed to hold their slaves on all fours, an enticing target for any male standing behind them. Lana looked intently at the third station, the one the magistrate had offered her to try. Glancing nervously around the dark courtyard, she was sure no one was around, so she quietly padded over to the well worn wooden stocks hanging from chains at waist height. Her waist would be held in the stocks, and her wrists trapped as well. Lana drew in a sharp breath when she saw the chains lying on the wood base -- each one ending in a tiny clamp, meant for her nipples. Lana moved her arms to cover her breasts, as her nipples suddenly ached in sympathy.

Next to that one was the hoop station, though the hoop was now open. Her curiousity getting the best of her, Lana moved to the open hoop, then stooped and placed her belly onto the hoop. She moved her arms forward, placing her wrists in the open hoops down near the ground. Once closed, those loops would keep her arms parallel with her legs, and the hoop at her waist would trap her, allowing the men to use her from behind, just like the magistrate had demonstrated using the two female slaves.

Resting in the station, Lana's legs were spread wide, for the hoop was too low for her to keep her legs together and straight. She felt terribly exposed, and she shivered, imagining a man standing behind her. She pictured the magistrate, moving behind her. What would he do? He'd probably caress her bare ass, slap it a few times to make her more pliable. That would probably be unnecessary, for just his presence these days seemed to make her pliable, she mused.

Lana got back to her feet and moved over to the next station, then bent down to pick up one of the clamps. They were a simple u-shaped metal piece, and if she squeezed as hard as she could, she could open them enough to fit over her little nubs. What would that feel like, she wondered? The pain must be unimaginable. Quickly, Lana dropped it, scolding herself for even contemplating such things. She quickly stood, scolding herself for daydreaming, she left the torture stations behind her, moving quickly through the courtyard.

Suddenly Lana had a pang of guilt. She'd forgotten about poor Warrick! Why hadn't she imagined Warrick the one standing behind her, taking her? He had done things against her will, much like the magistrate, using the mission as an excuse. And he'd risked his own life to visit her in the training camp. Although he'd benefitted from those visits, she mused. She forced herself to imagine Warrick in the courtyard, and she in one of the stations. Lana smiled grimly. The bastard would no doubt want to see if she had learned anything. And he'd probably torment her, make her beg him to let her cum. She'd be damned if she'd beg that man!

Lana glanced to her left, and saw the long wooden arc, which the trainers had used on two slaves -- friends, one of them forced to sacrifice herself to save her friend. She tried not to think about their fate and quickly moved on. Then she saw the tent, where Henri and Varga had presented the prisoner. That had been three days before, and she wondered what torments they'd been layering on the poor woman.

The thought emanations seemed to be coming from the north side, so she moved around the tent and kept going. She hadn't been to this section of the courtyard, so when she came upon an unfamiliar station, she gasped quietly. She was still alone in the dimly lit yard, so she steppd up onto the platform to have a look. There was what looked like a leather saddle atop a square wooden horse. In the center of the saddle, pointing straight up, was a smooth, round wooden phalus.

Lana moved closer, and saw that the wooden device was obviously carved to mimic a man's organ, down to minute detail. But it was very smooth, and dark, perhaps from oil, and a lot of use, she thought with a grimace. Lana reached out and touched it, and to her surprise, the saddle moved slightly as she grabbed onto the wooden cock. The saddle was on springs, so it would move a bit, up and down, back and forth. It seemed obvious then that this particular saddle was meant to be ridden by female slaves. The wooden horse had leather manacles on the side, for the rider's ankles, and a nearby rack had a variety of leather crops.

Lana couldn't imagine a wooden phalus would be very pleasurable, compared to a man. Then she frowned, reminding herself that the stations weren't really for the slave's pleasure. And yet, the slavers always seemed able to force pleasure on their captives, in whatever manner they pleased. Her hand was still gripping the wooden cock, she realized, and she found her breathing was ragged, for her body was aching from a full day of sexual torments unquenched.

Lana bit her lip, imagining being bound and gagged, two men lifting her and lowering her onto the horse. They probably wouldn't leave her alone either, once she was mounted on the horse. They'd touch her breasts, and whip her ass, and other things their devious minds would conceive. The courtyard was empty now, but tomorrow it would be bustling. Well dressed young men and women would watch as she was forced to ride and eventually cum on this crude wooden phalus. What if she had to spend the day here, moving from station to station?

Suddenly Lana gasped, her thighs tightly clenched, her hand gripping the wooden cock tightly. She had to get out of there, to clear her mind of such thoughts! With an anxious murmur, Lana quickly moved on, stumbling as she tried to get away from the new station and out of the nefarious courtyard. It was one thing to imagine, but there was a very real risk she'd be found and caught here. The men liked a symmetry in their training - if she were caught in this courtyard, she'd spend the day here for certain.

Walking quickly but with some difficult from the heat between her thighs, she finally she came to a wall where there was a single door. Glad to be past the courtyard, Lana quietly opened the door, but it just led to more empty corridors. Yet the emanations from the prisoner were getting stronger, so Lana knew she was heading the right direction. She thought briefly of how far from her sleeping quarters she'd gone, and she wondered if she'd remember how to get back. Well, she had her powers now, she'd find a way back. Besides, she felt compelled to find the prisoner. She had to know who the woman was, and what she was doing.

Lana froze in the dark hallway. She heard footsteps up ahead, and then a large figure rounded the corner, heading her way. Panicking, Lana moved to the door to her right, and tried to turn the handle, but it was locked. The hallway was fairly dark, but the figure must have seen her shadow, for he stopped. Her heart thumping in her chest, Lana froze, pressing her slender body tight against the stone wall, to try to minimize her shadow. Then the figure was moving again, and suddenly he spotted her.

"What are you doing here?" barked the man. Lana could see that he was a guard, for he wore the same uniform as the men who'd helped rescue her. He wasn't wearing his helmet, so he might have been off duty, but he still had a sword. His hand wasn't near his sword - he saw only a pretty slave standing before him, after all. The man was close to her now, and she stepped away from the wall. "You, slave, on your knees, in your position!"

Lana quickly got to her knees and was about to spread her legs, when she paused. What was she doing? She slowly got to her feet, forcing a smile despite the nervousness rippling through her.

"I was wondering, soldier," she said, her voice as seductive as she could muster. "If a little slave girl like me knocked you out, would you be too embarrassed to report it?" She held her arms demurely in front of her, her upper arms pressing her breasts together.

The soldier frowned, then he laughed suddenly. "You're damn right I would! Imagine what the guys in the barracks would say if I turned in that report."

He was still chuckling when Lana's round-house kick caught him on the chin. His head snapped to the right and he lost his balance. The big soldier fell toward the wall, where his head cracked against the stone, and he fell to the ground in a heap. Lana knelt down quickly to feel his neck, worried he might have damaged it, but he seemed fine, and was breathing softly. Lana tried a couple of the doors nearby, finding an open one that led to an empty cell.

She propped the door with her back and with great effort, dragged the unconscious guard into the room. She tried to lift him onto the bed, but he was too heavy, so she left him lying on the floor and closed the door behind her. Then she quickly moved on in her search, hoping the soldier would indeed be too embarrassed to report their encounter.

Lana moved further through the training camp, until the small sconses led down a flight of stairs. The emanations came from below, down the stairs, and Lana quietly followed them down. After going down one floor, she found a door made of steel bars, and she reached out her mind, but the prisoner was not that way. No, she was further down. Lana continued down the stairs another level, unable to shake a forboding sixth sense, that grew stronger the deeper she went.

Luckily the next floor seemed to be the bottom floor, and there was another iron door barring her way. She could sense the prisoner was close. Lana looked about for a key, and then she spotted the sleeping guard. This one was dressed like the one she'd encountered, but he was asleep, flat on a bench, his helmet and sword leaning against the wall. There, she spotted a key ring with several keys, grasped in the hand of the sleeping guard.

Lana reached out with her mind, tugging on the keychain, but the guard gave a snort and rolled over, facing the wall. The keys were no longer visible, and Lana sighed with disappointment. She was never going to get those keys, gripped tightly in the guard's hands. She reached out with her mind, and sensed the prisoner close by, still suffering from something. She had to get through the iron door.

Lana thought back on her training, and tried to think of things her amplified abilities might now make possible. She went and hid on the stairs, peeking out just above the top stair so she could just see the sleeping guard. Then she closed her eyes, reaching out to his mind. In his sleep, his mind was a jumble, hard to see images, but she didn't need to read his mind, only to plant an idea. She worked on his fears, massaging them, bringing them to the surface. It was easier to do because he was asleep.

Something was coming to get him, he needed to wake up, to take action. Something monstrous, he needed to move, quickly! Suddenly the guard sat up on the bench. His face was a mask of fear and anxiety. Lana quickly planted an idea in his mind. Still in a half-awake state, the guard stumbled toward the gate, looking nervously behind him. He got to the gate, and used the keychain to unlock the door, though he didn't swing it open. Instead he stumbled back to his bench, and lay down, thinking if something came to get him, he could escape faster through the unlocked door.

Immediately, she stopped projecting fear, instead calming his mind, encouraging him to go back to sleep. The danger had passed, but the unlocked door was a good idea. Lana watched with a mixture of pride and amusement as the guard slowly fell back asleep. She'd done it! It was certainly easier to manipulate the mind of someone half awake, but still, the fruit had made the task almost easy.

Lana tried to temper her excitement, remembering that an Arbiter should only enter the minds of others out of absolute necessity. Telling herself this was just such a situation, she carefully opened the gate, and walked quietly inside, closing the iron door behind her, cringing at the loud creak from the iron door's hinges.

It was far too late for anyone to be awake, yet Lana heard faint noises up ahead. She moved down the dimly lit hallway cautiously and quietly, following the noise, which she realized emanated from the same direction she sensed the prisoner. She crept past the guard, who was now sound asleep and snoring, and she moved past several cells, which she noticed were large, and each one contained one or more of the torture or training stations she found so common in the slave camp. These rooms were all empty of prisoners, however, and Lana moved deeper into the hall, following the slight sounds and mental emanations, looking for the prisoner. She was vaguely aware of how dangerous this was, wandering deep into places she shouldn't be going, but she had to find the prisoner, to . . . speak with her, find out who she was, and why a powerful telepath was here on Dell.