Phoebe Lane's Zeppelin Trip To Mars

The line of prisoners snaked its way into the building. Try as she might, Phoebe could get no impression of what lay beyond the red lintel of the doorway embossed with odd characters that even Phoebe was sharp enough to conclude, represented the Martian alphabet. With trepidation, Phoebe stepped beyond the red-limned vestibule and was directed to her right. She found herself in a large room with a man behind a desk and armed guards. The corpulent Martian behind the desk eyed Phoebe head to toe, disgusting the young reporter.

"My, but you are a pretty one. O.K. Gorgeous, strip to your skin. All of your possessions are now company property. Every last article comes off. As each item is removed, hand it to me for cataloging. They will then be placed in this large box, which will be collected later by a subcontractor. Your future owner will see to your subsequent re-clothing and well-being. Proceed."

The man sat there with an expectant expression on his face. Phoebe was certain that she was hearing things. Surely her ears must be playing tricks with her mind. A refined young woman such as herself expected to unveil herself before such an uncouth character, and a male one at that!

"NO!" stated Phoebe defiantly.

"Come on, gorgeous. I haven't got all day. Believe me when I tell you that you do not want to make a spectacle of yourself. If it makes you feel better, I've seen thousands of females naked, believe me, I DON'T care. I just have a job to do."

"I will NOT undress, certainly not for some man who is a complete stranger! I say again, NO!"

"Shit!" uttered the obese man, shocking Phoebe for uttering such an indecency. He pushed a button and a towering dark featured man entered the room. The young reporter shrank back the man bore menace in every atom of his being.

"Is there a problem?" he asked the fat man behind the desk.

"The prisoner refuses to strip."

"The man loomed above Phoebe and glowered. "Prisoner, I assure you it is an essential element of processing. Slaves have no secrets and no possessions, as you are now on your way to assessment and purchasing, I suggest you accede to the gentleman's instructions."

"That beast is no "gentleman" and I was raised differently from such ruffians. Again I say no, sir!"

"Is that your final answer?" asked the towering man.

"Indeed." stated Phoebe as she defiantly crossed her arms across her chest.

"Goodie, I get to test these things out!" The man said with obvious glee. From a satchel upon his belt, the man produced a small container. With a dramatic flourish, he opened the case revealing several disgusting slimy, slithery things.

"Let me introduce you to the nerve worm, a rare polar creature recently successfully bred in captivity." The man approached Phoebe with one of the writhing creatures. She tried to shrink away but the soldiers in the room held her fast. Phoebe struggled in the arms of the soldiers and protested vocally, the tall man continued to approach. Phoebe felt the slimy creature come in contact with the exposed skin of her neck. It made her skin crawl worse than even the most awful Halloween tale Phoebe had ever heard. There was a soft sting and then the creature began burrowing into her flesh!

"The nerve worm is an interesting beast," continued the tall dark featured man. "It likes nothing better than to lie in symbiotic affinity with the major pain centers of the brain. For nearly all of its lifespan, the nerve worm is inert, offering its hosts a minor feeling of euphoria and wanting nothing more than to nourish itself on spinal fluid. Most of the time, people have no idea that their bodies are even hosts to the parasite. However when aroused," The man retrieved something resembling a dog whistle from a different satchel on his belt and blew twice on it. Phoebe heard no noise but suddenly her body was wracked with overwhelming pain. The young reporter screamed in agony. The tall man let Phoebe experience the full intensity of the nerve worm for several long moments before he blew his whistle a second time. Instantly, the pain ceased!

"Here is how things are, prisoner.," stated the tall man as Phoebe tried to gather her breath, "You can cooperate with ALL orders directed at you or I can irritate your nerve worm once more. I assure you woman, that my determination will far outlast yours. A sufficiently riled nerve worm can sting for an entire week without interruption, can you endure it for even a fraction of that length of time?"

"You are a monster!" spat Phoebe.

"No, I'm a bureaucrat with a deadline and expectations and you are wasting everyone's time. Now strip, and be quick about it!"

Phoebe's eyes blazed defiance at the man who made a move to blow his whistle once more.

"No!' gasped Phoebe as she tore open her burgundy coat and threw it at the fat man behind the desk.

The enormity of the moment hit her at once. Realizing that she would have to strip before strange men on an alien planet, Phoebe quickly calculated the manner of undress that would preserve her modesty the longest. The nudity was inevitable but could be delayed as long as possible, she hoped.

Phoebe bent and unbuttoned her ankle high shoes and slid out her silk stocking clad feet. Her heart beating a mile a minute, she set the shoes down upon the fat man's desk.

She reached for her hair. The pretty little hat had been lost long ago. But removing the pins and clips from her crimson bun was far preferable to removing another article of clothing. The lovely red hair cascaded past Phoebe's shoulders causing one of the guards to emit a soft sigh of pleasure. The pins and clips joined her shoes in the fat man's pasteboard box.

Phoebe next dispensed with her jewelry. Even though all of it had either sentimental or great material value, removing them meant no clothing would come off for the present. Pearls from her ears and around her neck joined the sorority and friendship rings and the Tiffany brooch. Phoebe teared up at the sight of so many of her treasures and the realization that she would never see them again. For a long moment, she stood there numb.

"Well?" stated the fat man. "Get on with it!"

Her tears beginning to flow now, Phoebe's dainty hands made their way to her throat and the first pearl button of her blouse. The trickle of tears became a torrent as the garment parted revealing glorious ivory skin and two large breasts being restrained with difficulty by a corset. Phoebe's right arm trembled as she placed her teal colored blouse on the fat man's desk.

The men in the room, the guards, the fat man, and the tall man were quite amused by Phoebe's slow reveal. It was far more entertaining than a simple fast strip would have been. The modesty that the woman displayed was a refreshing change of pace. On Mars, where most people went around in semi-nude states of dress at virtually all times, full nudity was generally no big deal. Everyone who fell into the slavers hands knew it was inevitable and therefore not worth batting an eye over. The strange clothes and utter shame on display by the prisoner had all of the men wondering what remote part of Mars she had originated from. Perhaps she was one of the almost mythical mountain women of the polar regions, certainly, her skin color indicated that. What was also clear to all of the men, was her great beauty. Silently, each estimated her value on the open market. All four men arrived at very high figures.

In fairly quick succession for her, Phoebe removed her long tan skirt and full slip. All eyes of the room were on the lithe young form on display. Clad now in just her corset, white silk stockings, garter belt and step-ins, Phoebe's next step promised further delight to the senses.

Sighing heavily, Phoebe began to withdraw her long shapely legs from her slim white stockings. The four male minds in the room were unanimous in the opinion that they had never seen finer legs in all their lives and these were men who spied thousands of women naked every year. The garter belt followed in quick succession. Deciding to reveal her thickly furred sex last, Phoebe silently asked for heavenly forgiveness as she reached behind her back to loosen the stays of her corset. Phoebe reflected that the loss of the corset was especially painful, it had been handmade for her in Paris and was designed for very rich, very single young women such as herself to open and close without assistance, there were only a few dozen like them in all the world. Why her mind focused on that minutia and that moment, Phoebe chalked up to her mind trying to make sense of horror.

For a tantalizing moment, the trim red-haired reporter's succulent large breasts were on view to all eyes. Lovely half melons capped with light brown areolas and sharp pink nipples, they caused the mouth of every man present to water. As quickly as possible, Phoebe's left arm clamped her breasts to her body. Rolling her eyes heavenward and moaning loudly, Phoebe worked her step-ins off with her right hand. The silk garment's waistband moved gradually lower, down the waist and over the enticing rump and down the spectacular legs until gravity went into effect. As quickly as possible, Phoebe bent, retrieved the underwear, placed it on the desk before clasping her right hand over her full crimson bush.

The tall dark featured man took a long moment to drink in the beautiful, nude woman, turning scarlet with shame with utter delight before he waved his whistle at her and announced, "Slaves are not permitted to hide their selves."

Phoebe's face became a look of pleading and mercy. The tall man simply smiled wryly and made a move to bring the whistle towards his lips. With a cry of frustration, Phoebe's arms fell to her sides, revealing every bit of her intoxicating form. She was instructed to turn in a slow circle, allowing a full visual assessment of her charms. Aside from a light dusting of freckles across her ample chest, and a slight scar above her left knee from a childhood accident, Phoebe's skin was flawless. Every man in the room realized that such a beautiful slave would be appraised for a very high price that only the super wealthy of Mars could afford.

"The fat man sighed and thought, "She will be some pampered toy for some rich man and her life will be far better than mine. Life's NOT fair!"

"OK, gorgeous," he said, breaking his reverie."Follow the red line on the floor to the assessment office. Don't even think of running away."

The tall man interjected at this point, "I'll accompany her, Talon. My mastery over the nerve worm will ensure that she doesn't run. It will also give my department a better sense if we should make nerve worms standard issue. They have the potential to really cut down on the training budget."

"Sure Dehok," replied the fat man, "Thanks for helping me out."

"Hey, It's what I DO!" Dehok replied before turning to face Phoebe, "Start following the line, pretty one." he said before striding out behind Phoebe, who never felt more naked in her life.

The walk was not long. It ended at two swinging doors. Phoebe was urged through them. For the next interval of time, she was weighed, photographed, measured, marched past a squad of men and women bearing clipboards. It was all monumentally humiliating for the sheltered earth woman. The shower was a great relief to Phoebe if only because the steam hid her body from view for a few glorious moments. After she was permitted to dry herself, Phoebe was led to an office of a man who was obviously a doctor. Shadowing her the whole way and taking a sinister delight in her torment, was Dehok, the huge supervisor. He greeted the doctor as an old friend.

"Do not be alarmed, girl," stated the avuncular doctor. "I won't bite."

The doctor encouraged Phoebe to stand behind a glass frame. Though she could see nothing but her own reflection in the glass on her side, the doctor's view showed her organs and gave a statement about her health. There was one other item that caused the doctor, who believed he had seen it all in his long life, to cast an appreciative nod to the medical gods for delighting his with such a novel surprise. The doctor whispered this information to Dehok, whose own face lit up in delight.

"Are you sure, Doc?" the tall man asked.

"My instruments are never wrong and they were just re-calibrated yesterday. I'll confirm it the old fashioned way just to be sure, of course. Just think about that will mean for the potential sale price!"

"Things like this don't happen every day, Doc. Just when you think you've seen it all.."

Phoebe had no idea why the doctor and the supervisor suddenly seemed so elated or why both were suddenly far nicer and more respectful of her. The doctor, whom Phoebe was convinced was the only gentleman she had encountered on Mars asked so nicely and solicitously to examine her more intimately, that the naive girl offered no objection. His gloved hand did not probe very far in her secret place before the man withdrew it. He then winked at Dehok and told Phoebe with complete sincerity, that she had been, "a delight to meet."

Dehok next led Phoebe to a small furnished room. "You are a unique item, fair skinned one, which is fortunate for you. This room is reserved for only the rarest and most pricey of livestock. You shall not be housed here long, but while you are, you shall live in luxury." With that, he stepped out of the room and sealed the lock.

Phoebe beat upon the door for some moments before she realized the futility of the gesture. She turned her attentions to the room. It was small, but well apportioned. The furniture was very odd in style but quite pleasing to her eye. One doorway led to a minuscule bathroom with a commode and shower. Phoebe gathered up the towel and wrapped it around her nude form, even though there were no longer any prying eyes. In one corner, a comfortable seeming bed. There was a chair and a table with an odd apparatus Phoebe could not identify. Suddenly, the savory aroma of food filled the small space of the room and the apparatus opened to reveal a plate of unusual looking but quite wonderful smelling food. It had been many long hours since Phoebe had eaten, her mouth watered intensely. For all she knew, the Martian food could instantly poison her, but after the day that Phoebe had experienced, she hardly cared. She removed the plate, took up what was apparently the eating utensil and, quite shocking considering her upbringing, began piggishly shoveling the food into her mouth.

The meal, whatever it was, was an utter delight to the earth girl's taste buds. She ate every morsel and even licked the plate. "Fortunately, Uncle Denton did not just witness me eating or he would have questioned every dime he spent to send me to such a fancy finishing school!" Phoebe stated to the emptiness about her. For the first time since arriving on Mars, she felt close to normal. The innocent young reporter had deduced, quite wrongly, that her captors, based upon the thumbprint they had taken earlier, now realized her identity and were treating her with all of the respect due her station. Of course, that did not explain the forced stripping and senseless humiliation, but one could hardly expect Martians to be a civilized as common earth men, let alone high society!

"I'm quite sure this is a story I will share with my granddaughter one day," stated Phoebe to herself. "And when she is old enough, I'll spare none of the spicy details!" she continued with a laugh. Shortly, thereafter, the stresses and humiliations of the day caught up with her. Phoebe cleaned her teeth as best she could, made use of the strangely shaped commode, and snuggled between the sheets of the bed which turned out to be every bit as comfortable as it looked. Sleep came quickly.

The badly damaged airship, Phoebe I, was at that moment limping about in the Martian atmosphere, getting its bearings. Captain Zander, in consultation with Navigator Wilkins and Professor Carson, had decided to try to return to earth before the leaking gasbag lost all buoyancy. Their opinions overcame Hopkins' objections.

The huge bodyguard was the only reason they were even able to consider returning to earth. His anger at the abduction of his charge had turned Robert Hopkins into a virtual Hercules. He overpowered one of the pirates and took his metal spike which he then turned upon the other invading pirates. Wilkins was in the thick of things as well. Earlier in his career, he had been the division boxing champ. He and the huge bodyguard put up enough tenacious resistance and dispatched enough pirates that Captain Sanguine's crew decided to cut their losses rather than battling at length and perhaps being delayed to the point of mercy of the Imperial Martian Navy. It was most probable they had captured the most valuable body on board in any case. Slave markets had little use for the elderly and middle aged, well not enough financial interest to justify taking the rest of the crew of the strange aircraft.

Captain Sanguine flashed a salute to his stubborn foe in the tiny Zeppelin before his great ship sped off for parts unknown. He admired the strong man who had fought like a demon against his men. Under other circumstances, he would have loved to bring such a fine specimen to the slave market in chains, but this man had earned his freedom and cost the captain, several good men. There came a point of diminishing returns in all such ventures and the titan had pushed his crew past that point. Robert Hopkins had given the preening captain his middle finger in return of his salute. He was still angry as a hornet hours later.

"You all can go back, but I have to rescue Miss Lane! Lower me by a rope if you have to, just let me do my job!" He cried to his three companions.

Professor Carson, in shattered spectacles, spoke calmly to the brave bodyguard.

"Young man, you have at least six fractured fingers, several broken toes, a broken collar bone and a dislocated shoulder. You are in NO condition to rescue anyone! Once we are home we can plan a far larger rescue party with scores of trained men to track down Miss Lane and bring her home. I'm sure they will allow you to accompany them. Take a look at this planet! If we acceded to your wishes, how would you find Miss Lane? Where would you look? How would you travel about the surface of the red planet? How would you interact with the locals? No, our only sensible option is this course, we should be able to maintain enough altitude for a few more hours, that is just enough time."

Hopkins absorbed the words of the scrawny professor. "Everything you say is true, professor, but neither of you is required to face Mister Young and tell him to his face how I failed to protect his niece. I also have to explain the same thing to my own father. I'll be lucky if the old man doesn't flay me alive and then hand my bones over to my father to be crushed into fertilizer. Believe me, a hostile Mars, teeming with pirates is far safer for me!"

"All of us will testify to your bravery and to the fact that you saved our lives."

"That's all well and good, Carson but I fumbled the ball and the other team has it. That is all that the old man will care about. I'm as good as dead."

"Surely it can't be that bad, old boy?" stated the professor attempting to elevate the mood.

"You're not in the bodyguard business, doc." was Hopkins last comment for many hours. At what the professor guessed was their second Martian midnight, the Phoebe I threaded its way back through the opening in the sky, they had just enough lift to make Ellesmere Island, probably.

The delightful aroma of Martian cuisine assailed Phoebe's nostrils as she woke on what she assumed was the next morning. The strange apparatus dispensed something vaguely resembling scrambled eggs and bacon only green and blue and tasting far more delightful than the earth equivalents. There was a hot beverage which was definitely not coffee but was still delightful. The portions were smaller this morning, still, it sated her hunger. She wondered how long she would have to wait until the supervisor or some other Martian bureaucrat arrived at her door with fresh clothing and an explanation of how they were going to return her to her uncle. Phoebe had decided that she would be magnanimous, that her harsh treatment would not result in an interplanetary incident. Why right now, in her mind's eye, she could see her uncle and the president of the United States, and the president or whatever of Mars all sitting down to dinner together and laughing about the incident while Phoebe blushed appropriately. "I might even win the Nobel Peace Prize!" she told herself.