Do Killers Dream of Electric Whips?

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In space your master can certainly hear you scream
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Annex 34 to the Zabba Corporation Standard Terms and Conditions: Zabba Corporation of course gives debtors ample warning to pay the balance before enacting measures (as per the "Treating Consumers' Fairly" requirements as set out by the Galactic Ombudsman Service). All sums should be received by Zabba Corporation within two Galactic Standard Weeks of a final demand. Zabba Corporation or its authorised agents may contact debtors directly if payment is not received and, if appropriate, may remove items of real property to be held as collateral against the balance.


Location:Corporate Headquarters Planet Undina II, Zabba Corporation Headqarters
Stardate: 1552

The three suns of Undina II, not having any alternative, went down as the day drew to a close. Of course Undina II, being the official corporate headquarters planet of Zabba Corporation, didn't pay any attention to the suns' disappearance. Life went on under the occasionally soft but more often harsh glow of electronic lights. Zabba Corporation, the Galaxy's leading all-purpose corporation, had moved beyond such outdated things as being bound by a day/night cycle.

There were always products to sell, research to conduct, reports to compile, legal details to be argued over, profit/loss accounts to be drawn up. If there were not enough hours in the day for the billions of worker ants who made up Zabba Corporation, picked from the brightest and best of the galaxy's residents, then Zabba Corporation would simply extend the day. The fact that hubris such as this was not only allowed but actively encouraged among the personal demonstrated as much as anything the power of Zabba Corporation.

For a moment I would like you to consider the very idea of a Corporate Headquarters planet. We all know that planets are often designated for a purpose. There are the agri-worlds like Davis IV, a world dedicated to agriculture, to growing and nurturing the food that fed the galaxy. There were industi-worlds like Bobon V, a world where every spare inch of land (and at times sea and air) was given over to factories. There were fortress-worlds like Cadan II, defensive strongholds positioned at the key parts of the galaxy. There were even junk-world's like Praton, where the galaxy dumped its debris.

But a Corporate Headquarters planet? This was an entire planet where everything was dedicated to the furtherance of Zabba Corporation. One couldn't purchase a product that wasn't imagined, developed, produced and sold Zabba Corporation. There was no competition, no other options, no other employers. From the towering space-scrapers where the executives decided the fate of millions to the squat blocks where legions of nameless, faceless operators manned the holo-phones, fired off emails, responding to Zwitter posts and made sure that across the galaxy consumers were happy with their service, everything was dedicated to Zabba and its success. An entire planet, billions of souls, all with one purpose, one mind.

Yes they lived their own lives, yes they had their own dreams and desires, yes they sometimes worked against each other, the inevitable issue of office politics and petty jealousy but when push came to shove it was an entire planet who worked to make a single organisation great. Everyone had a purpose, even if just as a lesson to others of the price of crossing Zabba Corporation. For when an organisation had as much power as Zabba no-one was safe and no-one was allowed to get in the way of progress.


"It's time Bitchy."

The room high up in one of the space-scrapers showed all the signs of success one would expect from one of Zabba Corporation's leading lights. It was huge, expansive beyond a level that was even practical. Clean lines filled it, minimalist even, white and sleek. Art work hung from the walls, expensive pieces from across the Galaxy, the windwail paintings of Xenok V, a sculpture uncovered during a xenocoligy expidition to Marcias X. A window took up one entire side, a view out over and across Zabba City. The biggest single item however was the bed, a vast structure that dominated the centre of the room.

That said it was not the bed that first drew the eye. That instead was a cage, incongruously made from pink synthsteel, a thin pink mattress inside. A closer look would reveal that the cage wasn't a single whole but was instead comprised of separate sections with barriers that could be moved in and out of position, expanding and contracting the space allowed within, exploiting the near unlimited flexibility of synthsteel. It was clear that whoever did occupy the cage was at the mercy of whoever controlled the steel.

The owner of the room and the voice stood just in front of the edge of the bed. Cornelius Fisk was not a huge man, standing just over 6 feet tall, but what he did have was a presence, an aura so tangible one would swear it was almost physical. His mind and body had been honed by years of military service and while his time in the civilian ranks of Zabba Corporation may have taken the slightest of edges off it did now show on his lean, sculpted muscled body. His eyes, a piercing blue, could seemingly see into the very soul. If he wished he could be utterly unnerving to those around him... but likewise he could also be a welcoming, friendly presence. In a galaxy of trillions and trillions of people it was near impossible for someone to be special. But Cornelius Fisk was special. Truly special.

He had been a Lunar Wolf, the elite of the elite, the 99th percentile of the 99th percentile of the 99th percentile. He had led the Black Bastards, the most feared company of the Lunar Wolves. He had operated with near impunity, his plans, his mind, his cunning and his men and women against the worst the galaxy had to offer. On his order millions had died but trillions had been saved. He was a legend of the military, an action hero beyond compare. And now he was the head of Zabba's Special Operations Department and he had never been more powerful.

When even Zabba's near limitless power failed to solve a problem he was called for. He was the ultimate weapon, the last resort, a man who was so used to success that he had forgotten what it felt like to fail. The very mention of his name could cause strikes to be averted, rebels to throw down their arms, companies to sell and whole worlds to surrender. He may not have been the single most powerful man in the galaxy... but you wouldn't bet against it. Yet he was not feared or despised. In truth he was loved. He was an icon of trillions, an example of what human endeavour, talent and effort could achieve. And despite his reputation, despite his aura, he was popular. Always had been. A natural leader but one who did it through fear but through love, through friendship, through loyalty.

When he and his Wolves had dived from their spaceships, through the inky blackness of space and then through the burning fire of the atmosphere to enact a space-based entry to a hotzone, they did not just do it because it was their duty or because they feared him. No, they did it because Cornelius went first and they loved him and he loved them. His voice may have been commanding, his aura tangible, his eyes piercing but he was loyal and he was their friend and he would never let them down. And he never broke his word.

One of the people he had given his word to now lay spread-eagled on the bed before him. Once, years before, he had promised her that she would willingly open her legs for him and beg for him to fuck her. She unleashed a string of vitriol even the most crude of labourers would have blinked at, cursed him and said it would never happen. And yet here she was.

Zabba Corporation aggressively pursues those who owe sums to it. If the debtor is unable to pay the amount (such amounts to be determined by Zabba Corporation) Zabba Corporation reserves the right to seize all tangible and intangible assets held by the debtor (including, but not limited to, bank accounts, real estate, real property and intellectual property) to pay the remaining sum. If there is still a balance owed then Zabba Corporation reserves the right to induct the debtor into one of its indentured servitude programs, paid at the standard rate, until the debt is cleared. The cost of the debtors board and lodgings (as well as all incidental expenses, including those linked to their work as an indentured servant) will be added to the amount owed. Compound interest will continue to apply to the sum for the duration of this period.

If Cornelius Fisk was special then so was Arianna Luskarelli. She had also been a Lunar Wolf... arguably the best single fighter in an entire division made up off nothing but the best fighters the galaxy had to its name. But she had been more than that. She had been a legend, she had been an icon. The most dangerous woman in the Galaxy, a woman who had written her own path through the stars in the blood of her enemies... and in truth, in anyone that had got in her way. She had been feared and loved and lusted after. Holonet sites were full of endless chatter by her admirers, Holovids proclaiming to be the true story of her exploits had filled the air.

Companies had paid billions of credits for her to advertise their products. Her fame at least mirrored and arguably actually exceeded Fisk's own. As a Lunar Wolf and then as a bounty hunter she had made her own way in the galaxy. If Fisk's name could bring a rebellion to its knees then her name could make the most fearsome villains and ruffians in the Galaxy crawl on their bellies and weep in fear. She had been a legend. And she still was, albeit in a rather different way. For she was an example of what happened to one who crossed Zabba Corporation. And one who tried to defeat Cornelius Fisk.

Cornelius had taken to calling her "Bitchy", a name based on her old nickname, "The She-Bitch That Shall Not Be Named". He wasn't particularly happy with it... personally he thought he could have been more inventive but for whatever reason he lacked inspiration. He'd tried "Analanna" but it had never really stuck. Perhaps one day he'd meet someone who would have the exact right phrasing, the exact right words. But for now the name was Bitchy.

It was a very special time of the day for Bitchy. Breeding time. Every day, like clockwork, Cornelius would, near the end of the evening, breed the once mighty bounty hunter. The manner of it sometimes changed, the positions, the location but she would be bred, his thick cock forced into her, Cornelius fucking her until he spurted deep inside her womb. What had been the fantasy of trillions of men was in essence a daily chore for him, albeit one he enjoyed, little different to his regular workouts or a morning shower.

You may think Arianna would hate this. She had been independent, powerful, mighty. She had been the most dangerous woman in the world. She had chosen who she fucked (and let us be clear, she fucked them, they didn't fuck her... most simply clung on and hoped to survive). This was beyond demeaning, beyond humiliating. She was being used as a brood mare, as a beast of burden, as little more than a cocksleive. Cornelius may have well have simply used a turkey baster and injected her full of cum (something he had done in the past). How could she not hate this? How could she... although Cornelius doubted she would ever truly admit it to herself, admit her true nature... enjoy this?

Because this was the one time of the day Cornelius would even consider allowing her to cum.

The chastity device that Cornelius had attached to Arianna was not the crude sort of devices the middle ages had produced. It was a work of scientific and technological wonder, originally a prototype but now, having seen the success that Cornelius had found for it, the peak of female restriction that Zabba offered for an understandably ridiculous price. It looked simple, if classically beautiful, a disk of reflective metal with a keyhole which covered her cunt and a small hole for her bodily functions. There were no straps, no belts, no chains, nothing that would obscure her other holes.

In truth there was no need for the keyhole, but Cornelius liked the way he could torment Arianna by dangling the silver key in front of her wanting, desperate needy eyes. Everything was controlled remotely, originally from a simple remote but now through a device implanted directly into Cornelius. Arianna was technically Zabba Corporation's property, an indentured servant who would never pay off the debt she owed, but in reality she was Cornelius' and he had absolute control over her property. No-one would see, let alone touch her pussy without his permission... and it was a permission he rarely if ever granted.

The device was more than a simple physical barrier however. Such things were banal and bound to fail... if one trained themselves hard enough they could orgasm even without their cunt being touched. Cornelius did not want Bitchy being able to cum from the regular anal stimulation she received. The device was linked directly into her nervous system, able to sense and prevent orgasms from ever happening. Her body was his tool and he used it as he wanted.

Frequently he allowed her a sort of mini-gasm, the female equivalent of a ruined orgasms, loving to listen to her shrill squeaks and watch the dribble of juice that spurted from the gaps in the device but he knew these offered her no satisfaction, no release, only tormented her further. The device could react to his very thought; at a whim he could give Arianna bursts of pleasure or shooting pains. The synthsteel nature of the device meant that he could meld and shape it; more than once he had made the device resemble a vibrator, pressed deep into her pussy and humming away, enjoying the torment in Bitchy's eyes as she was brought to the brink of orgasm and denied again and again.

The device was open now; still in place but the covering sliding back into the outline, revealing Bitchy's trembling, dripping, needy pussy. Already the bed was stained with her juices. Cornelius was not arrogant enough to think it was just the sight of him that made her gush so. Each morning he made sure to administer an aphrodisiac, often injected directly into her clit. For the whole day Bitchy would be a slave to lust, a constant need upon her. It wasn't the most powerful lust drug avaliable... he didn't want her crazy and he wanted her functional... but it was an itch she couldn't scratch, an itch that would only grow.

And an itch that would be intensified by the way she was constantly tormented. Arianna may not have been allowed to cum but others were allowed to use her to make them cum... or just to punish her if they felt like it. Throughout the day she would be buggered by cocks, dildos and whatever else came to hand, her tongue... well trained through frequent use... would lap at cunts and dicks and her breasts were rarely left unmolested.

Many, appreciating the position the once all-powerful bitch had found herself in, took great delight in teasing her and denying her over and over again. Cornelius' mind flashed back to earlier in the evening when he had visited Rebecca, a fellow Zabba Corporation executive he was casually seeing. Rebbeca seemed to take a vindictive pleasure in tormenting poor Arianna. She had spent hours ruthlessly pleasuring the girl, till Arianna was little more than a quivering ball of despair and unfilled sexual need, vibrating clamps attached to her nipples and a thick dildo planted in her ass, trapped in a thick latex suit that left only her mouth, pussy, tits and ass free and able to move. Rebecca had then made a point of sitting on Bitchy's face, forcing her to lick her pussy and as and noisily orgasming, describing exactly how pleasurable it was. It was no surprise Arianna was desperate to cum at the end of each night.

The bondage had been somewhat relaxed for the breeding. Bitchy had been a good girl that day and as a reward Cornelius had kept many of his most interesting toys in his drawers. She was still bound... she rarely wasn't in some form... but while her hands and feet were spread-eagled by cuffs and chains to the edges of the bed there was a fair amount of movement. The clamps on her nipples didn't bite tight and instead issued a pleasurable throb, the gag in her mouth was loose, allowing her to just about form words, even if distorted, he hadn't blindfolded her and the pink stockings she had on her legs and fishnets on her arms were somewhat demeaning, be as they were about as frilly and girly as one could imagine but they didn't hurt.

He'd programmed her nano-bot tattoos to give a couple of messages; "Please breed me!" on her groin just above her pussy and "Filthy Anal Cunt" on her stomach but in the great scheme of things he'd done far worse to her. A video screen directly above the bed showed exactly what she looked like from every angle... the joy of hidden cameras. He wanted her to see exactly what she was.

"Would Bitchy like it if Daddy allowed her to cum today?"

Just because this was the only time of the day Cornelius did allow Arianna to cum didn't mean hedidlet her cum. She had to be good to deserve an orgasm and even then he didn't always give her a treat. Orgasms were a privilege and a privilege he could administer of deny as he felt appropriate. It had been five days since her last orgasm and each day he had asked if she wanted to be allowed to cum. Each day she had enthusiastically replied... and each day he had denied her. He imagined her need was exquisitely dreadful. He cock was hard and he slapped down on her pussy with it, causing her juices to splatter even more.

"Has Bitchy been a good girl? Does she deserve to go cummies?"

He slapped down with his cock again, before pressing the head against her slit, barely penetrating her, but feeling her tightness try to claim him. God, he did enjoy breeding her.

"And do you think today will be the day I put a bun in your oven? Can you imagine that, Bitchy with a big bloated belly, carrying my child? Wouldn't that make Bitchy proud? We may finally have found a use for a good for nothing, useless cunt like Bitchy. Other than just to be a warm hole for me to fuck of course..."

With that he slid in. She was so wet it was almost went beyond reason but she was also tight. He made sure she was. No-one wanted a fuckpet with loosely sloppy holes and despite his treatment of her Corneleius was proud of Bitchy's reputation as one of the best fuckpets in the galaxy. Her holes may be regularly stretched out by massive cocks but he made sure they were tightened again afterwards. And god was she good. Even without the mental stimulation the thought he was fucking Arianna Luskarelli gave him the sheer pleasure of her holes was joy enough. Breeding was no chore for him, despite its repetitive nature.

His thrusts were hard and precise, each one driving him deep inside her, burying himself to the hilt in her warm wetness. His pace was fast but controlled, hard, direct, a true fucking, no pansy "making love" or other such shit. He was fucking her. The chastity device made sure she couldn't cum yet even as each thrust gave her more pleasure. One hand was on her hips, driving her onto him, the other was massaging her breasts, his eyes locked on hers. She was his, his cocksleeve, his fuckmeat, his slut, his whore, his Bitchy. He owned her, owned every part of her, owned her body, owned her mind, owned her soul and he was reinforcing his ownership with each hard thrust.

He felt his own orgasm approaching and he didn't hold back, his pace increasing as his touch became harder. As he reached his limit he buried himself in her, letting him suck him to her depths and with a grunt came hard and directly into her, thick spurts of cum splattering deep into her body and womb. At the same time he released the block on her, allowing her to cum, riding the inevitable explosion of writhing limbs and splattering female fluid.

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