tagSci-Fi & FantasyVera's Tale

Vera's Tale

byWifetheif©

A Corollary To Cygnus Five

This story was inspired by a comment to "Cygnus Five" by brunettepatrice. I hope it meets the satisfaction of her and other readers.


*****

Now I am simply "Blondie" but once I was Vera Nickles the wife of an earth man. We were a very happy couple. Now My mind is a twisted knot of emotions. I should explain that the man whose collar I now wear, Kellen Schwartz, has kept me as his personal slave for the over a year. Exactly how long I have been here I really do not know for sure. The life I once knew ended in violence and sadness. For reasons that I will reveal as the narrative necessitates, I have resolved myself to my fate. It is at the request of my Master that I have drafted this narrative. I write in the same notebook as the man who was my husband, Kent Nickles. He is enslaved with me, in far more deplorable circumstances. Now I have to make a decision regarding him. It is the hardest choice I ever had to make.

My story started many months ago as part of a planned vacation. Our good friend, Lenny Myers and his wife Sylvia, who is like a sister to me, as well as myself and my husband Kent were on our way to a sunny planet and a vacation by the water. I can still envision the beaches we we scheduled to visit. Sylvia and I are the same age. Her Parents were originally from Korea, we are opposites in so many ways. I am a bit taller than her and I have a bigger bust line but both of us kept in fantastic shape. Driving each other to greater glory in the gym was one of hobbies. Our efforts were rewarded with appreciative looks we garnered from men everywhere we went. She has raven black hair while mine is straw yellow. We grew up three doors apart and have been inseparable since we were the littlest of girls. Going on vacation with her was a natural as breathing Lenny had just bought the space ship and this had been our first long trip in it. Once we darted to Callisto, in orbit around Jupiter for the spectacular views and the shopping. The ship seemed perfectly sound then. Something happened to the thing Lenny called "the quantum infuser" and we were forced to land here on Cygnus Five for repairs.

We knew that Cygnus Five had been settled by the Stag Warriors many generations ago. I read a lot about the Stag Warriors when I was in school. They are patriarchal in ways that make traditional defenders of male privilege on earth seem like the most reasonable men alive. For me the best part of the Stag Warrior story was the heroics of Field Marshall Beatrice Breton. Now THERE was a woman! The fact that she got those atrocious warriors to heel and drove them from the planet, really irritated the Stag Warriors as they left earth for parts unknown. It was several centuries until their final destination was discovered. Earth was a long time in recovering from the billion plus casualties but men and women rebuilt the world as equals. Male attitudes like those of the Stag Warriors had effectively vanished from earth.

Where I was raised, men were gallant, protective but not overbearing. Women were fully equal to men, we shared the same rights. Of course the planet changed in other ways. As earth rebuilt after the war, a planet short of resources began to limit fertility. Kent and I had filled out all the forms and hoped to hear back from the pregnancy permission board sometime in the future, maybe in three or four years, Kent and I would have been permitted to get pregnant. Yes, it made us frustrated, but because of the laws imposed after the defeat of the Stag Warriors there was no poverty, little disease, and hunger was an alien concept. In light of that, we could not complain too vociferously. The needs of one couple had to take second fiddle to the needs of an entire planet.

Sylvia shared that desire with me. I still miss Sylvia desperately. We had been friends since before grade school. We got married around the same time. She was my maid of honor and I was her matron of honor. Ever since we were kids we had dressed in complimentary fashion. It was an innocent game of childhood that flowed naturally into adulthood. Every morning we would call each other to decide how to dress. I set Sylvia up with Lenny, who was a friend of my Kent. All four of us made contented and happy couples. We got into some great adventures, even topless beaches on more than one occasion.

I didn't care that Lenny spied my goodies or that Kent drank in Sylvia's boobies so avidly. There was not a chance in the world that either man would have dreamed of cheating on us. As for Sylvia and myself, we shared many things, but aside from one bad incident in high school, we never shared our men. Not that I wasn't attracted to Lenny. He is tall and very muscular, quite the contrast to my reed thin and not quite as tall, Kent. My Kent was a wonder in bed, and kept me so happy, that I'd have killed myself before I committed an infidelity.

In any event we were forced to land on Cygnus Five and the comfortable life I knew came to an end.

Almost immediately upon landing a group of hulking cops ordered us out of Lenny's spaceship. That the cops next orders were for Sylvia and myself to strip, hit us like a club between the eyes.

Sylvia and I stared at each other, not believing what we had heard. Once the police leveled their weapons at Kent and Lenny, we immediately complied. I can still remember the last set of clothes I wore as a free woman. Tight pink slacks, a black blouse that was probably should have been buttoned up a bit more. Sylvia wore the same colors as I but opposite. We wore matching white travel slippers and underneath everything, some really lacy and expensive white bra and panty sets, to entice our husbands once we reached our vacation spot.

The cop in charge explained that the Stag Warriors do not recognize marriage or anything resembling equality between the sexes. He called us "unclaimed property" and "contraband." Once we were naked our hands were cuffed behind our backs, For the first time, I felt the horror of a collar slip about my neck. My ankles and thighs were chained together. After that a huge policeman threw me over his shoulder and I was carried to a police cruiser. Sylvia was right beside me. Both of cried longer and harder than at any other point in our lives. We wanted to lean against each other for comfort but there was a partition between the seats. We stared at each other through our tears and told each other to be strong. The drive to hell was not long.

They called it "the communal lockup" but for Sylvia and it was a horror. The ONLY good thing about that hell hole is that they removed our chains and collars. With so many leering armed guards there was nothing for us to do but obey. That were were dealing with very fearsome people became clear to Sylvia and I when we were ordered to remove our jewelry. I took off my wedding ring my engagement ring a gold necklace with an opal from my neck and a bracelet that I liked to wear for luck. Sylvia followed suit, she looked so strange without the gold hoops that she had worn virtually every day since she was twelve years old. I could not remember the last time I had seen her without them. Instead of tagging our valuables and placing them in an envelope for us to claim later, the bastards did something completely unexpected. It was an act calculated to enrage and humiliate Sylvia and myself; it certainly fulfilled its purpose.

Alternating between laughing at us and making rude comments about our bodies and what they would do to us if they were not cops, they removed the diamonds from our wedding rings. Aside from the diamond in my wedding band, my engagement ring had several small diamond chips. The apes who processed us removed every valuable stone even as Sylvia and I begged the men not to. The men laughed and said "Watch carefully." To our horror, our gold jewelry was deposited in a metal forge! In seconds the mementos of our married state were reduced to molten liquid! Everything we possessed was now lost, never to be returned. I know that Sylvia contemplated the pale ring around the third finger of her left hand with the same overwhelming sense of loss as my own.

While the guards laughed uproariously at our predicament we were led on to be weighed, What was in store for us in the morning was explained to us in detail. We were to be bid on and battled over like pieces of meat in front of wild animals. We also understood that there was a glimmer of a chance that our husbands could win us back. My heart fell, Kent was no match for any man on this planet. Sylvia faced better odds but we both had out doubts. Lenny kept in shape but it had been years since he fought competitively. If our husbands could not win us we became the "property' of our "Master" and would be his to do with in any way he chose. We were told to expect beatings and or spankings if we were not immediately compliant. I felt like Alice through the looking glass, except that on this side of the mirror everyone was the evil queen.

We were photographed head to toe, minutely inspected, and showered, all under the watchful eyes of guards, not a one of whom was even gentleman enough to hide his erection. We had to submit to a physical administered by a doctor, who at least treated us as human beings. Finally a depilatory was run over our entire bodies. I watched appalled as a leering guard roughly handled my intimate area and reduced my thick and beautiful golden carpet of pubic hair into a thin long line. His hands were cold and his manners crude. At no point were we given clothing to shield our nudity. The other women there did not seem as embarrassed as we were but they were as full of trepidation as Sylvia and myself, From them we learned that Masters varied in attitude greatly. Some were harsh all the time others applied discipline only when necessary. Every Master was demanding however. No woman had any say in who owned her, so all were fearful of being purchased or won by a tyrant.

We exchanged stories with our fellow prisoners. Some had tried to run away. Others had been seized to settle a debt. Still others had ended up in the communal lockup when their Masters had been arrested for a crime or had passed away. A few, like us, had men on the outside waiting to battle for and win them. The other prisoners sympathized with our predicament and gave us what advice they could. We were told our best option was complete submission.

"Your Masters will break you eventually, fighting him just puts him a foul mood which he takes out on YOU!" said a very beautiful dark haired woman named Tina, who was being sold to settle a debt. Her master had gone bankrupt. Tina's Master had been a fairly kind one. He had not wanted to part with Tina but her sale had been mandated by the court. Because of a recent injury, it was impossible for him to try and win her back. Tina's sadness and fear was perhaps as deep and profound as our own.

After hours of humiliation Sylvia and I were led to a set of bunk beds open to the sky. A man in a black hood, wielding a whip patrolled the sleeping area. A all loud conversation was ended with the crack of a whip. Sylvia and I were able to engage in an extended conversation before dark. Once night fell, we were given a shot to make us sleep. We promised each other that if only one of us made it out of this prison, we would take care of Kent and Lenny. It was only because of the drug that I slept at all

To the sound of the guards pounding their nightsticks against the bars and every flat surface, I awoke the next morning, genuinely disappointed that I was still alive. After a meager breakfast of oatmeal and fruit, numbers were assigned to all the women in the prison, Sylvia's spot was two ahead of mine. My last memory of my best friend was seeing her being escorted between two huge guards. She nodded at me and flashed the "friends forever" gesture we had exchanged with each other all the time since we had developed it as ten year's old. I cried as Sylvia vanished from view. My emotions brought a crack of the whip from the hooded sentry and a demand for silence. I wiped my tears and vowed that I would not give these gorillas the satisfaction of seeing me burst into tears again.

I'm proud to say that I honored that vow, for a while anyway. The guards came for me. I could not run away, I could not hide, I tried and failed to will myself invisible. I was led out through a tunnel into the bright sunlight. I could hear the shouts of the men. My heart was racing so fast I felt sure it would batter its way out of my chest. With rebellion impossible I found myself almost a distant observer. I felt sure that the woman being fastened spread eagle to the portable frame was someone else. She was some other blonde. A figment of my nightmare. I prayed that I would wake up to find myself in bed with Kent snoring sweetly beside me.

The reality of the situation revealed itself when my frame was towed to a spot just above a sawdust ring and I saw my Kent. He wore a stern, determined expression which only broke when he gazed up and me and mouthed "I love you." I returned the phrase, trying to raise my voice above the tumult of harsh male voices. I realized by the intensity of the bidding that I was a very desired property. One of the guards had told us that blondes were rather rare on Cygnus Five. For the first time in my life I cursed my golden locks. On earth my hair had opened so many doors, here it was condemning me. The men battling for the right to battle Kent for me were all uniformly large. All of them were dark haired, very tall and spectacularly muscled. A combination that under other circumstances I could find quite stimulating. My blood froze when I spied Kent's ultimate opponent. He was larger than all of the others, his features wore a mask of combat but he was not unattractive. I still wanted no part of him. I feared for Kent as I had never feared for him before.

The battle, such as it was, did not last long. Kent warded off the first blow, but crumpled under the second. For a horrifying instant, I suspected that he had been killed. After a moment, however, I discerned that he was still breathing. Had he died for my sake, I would have seen no sense in going on. I felt the hooded guards release my arms, legs,and waist. I fell to the ground as I had been instructed by my jailers and for the second time, sensed the collar around my throat. Despite the revelry of the crowd, I heard the click of my collar close with an almost audible sound of infinity.

Trying to get a hold of myself, I threw myself at the feet of my ne "owner" and waited for him to recognize me. From above came his huge hand, He helped me to my feet and wrapped me in a flimsy red robe that covered absolutely nothing. In my peripheral vision I saw Kent's limp body being carried off. My heart breaking, I focused my eyes on the huge brute who had bested my husband.

He smiled broadly, greatly improving his looks and said "Hello, Blondie. We are going to have lots of fun together."

Through a crowd of cheering men congratulating my "Master" and shouting comments about my body, I was led to a rather large air sled. My Master strapped me into the passenger seat, slid behind the wheel and punched in the launch code. I felt the vehicle lift and took one last look out the window. The life I knew was over. I hoped that Lenny and Sylvia had been reunited and that Kent would recover quickly. The barbarian, my barbarian, gently stroked my thigh with his left hand as we soared over the green landscape of Cygnus Five.

Still in a state of unreality, I had to focus intently upon his words,

"Now Blondie, Don't expect much sympathy simply because you are new to this world. I expect obedience and compliance. I'd prefer not to mark your beautiful skin. If I DO have to strike you, I am telling you now that it will be YOUR fault!"

I stared back at him dumbly.

"Don't act stupid, Blondie. I know you heard me. I run a dairy farm some distance from the city. Virtually everything is automated, which means that we will have plenty of time for fun."

He winked at me and continued.

"I am so happy to finally own a blonde. If you prove to be trainable I will put a little warrior in your womb, Perhaps one every two years for the next decade. How does that sound to you , Blondie?"

Fighting for words I was at last able to sputter, "I like children." My Master laughed and I cringed, I had sounded just like a twelve year old babysitter. Felling beyond idiotic I sat in silence the rest of the flight, trying to adjust my reality.

Once we landed, I learned my barbarian's name, Kellen Schwartz. I saw his name above the door and on military decorations and awards upon the walls. He gave me a tour of his surprisingly neat and not overly large house. He showed me where wings could be attached to the house to accommodate nurseries or bedrooms for children. He ran down what was expected of me.

"You will clean this house, make my meals, launder my clothes and fulfill my every whim. I will tend to the barns, machinery and animals myself. Compared to the lot of some slaves, you have a pretty sweet ride, Blondie."

The tour ended, where I knew it inevitably would, at his spacious bedroom. A large bed sat under a window. In various places around the room were items I could only conclude were torture devices. There was a person sized cage, a metal frame like the one I had been strapped to not an hour earlier and lots of sharp pointy things. My Master must have heard my gasp because he said,

"Don't worry Blondie, so long as you obey me, you will never know the purpose of these 'tools against resistance' I can not say the same for your predecessor."

He had worn a serious expression as he spoke the words, but immediately put on a grin.

"I can forgive an occasional burned dinner or a ruined shirt so long as you excel sexually. I will NOT tolerate sass,rebellion or lack of passion in the bedroom."

Once he was sure that I had absorbed his words he said,

"Here is what happens now, Blondie. You will undress me, nice and slow. Once I am naked you will suck my cock and swallow my seed. After that, aside from a break for dinner we will spend the rest of the day fucking."

For the first time the words, "Yes, Master." crossed my lips as I set to work.

Naked the barbarian was like nothing I had ever encountered before. Sculpted like a movie muscleman, every inch of mass seemed ready to spring to action. His body above the waist was mostly hairless except for his forearms and an oval of dark thatch on his chest. His penis was the largest I had ever seen outside of a pornographic movie. I felt like a heel, but I really liked his buttocks and, despite myself, wondered about his pumping power.

To buy some time, before I actually set to work, I tended to his wounds. There were a few deep cuts and lots of bruises. A very strange feeling hit me as I wiped away his blood. All of these wounds had come about directly as a result of his desire to own me. Every bruise, every cut was, in a sense, the mark of his passion for me. True, that passion was mostly hormonal lust but he had to have seen more to me than a simple sex toy to expend so much effort. The thought humbled me and brought tears to my eyes.

Misinterpreting my tears, he stroked my hair and stated, "Don't cry, Blondie. I am a gentle guy unless you piss me off. You are my property now, I will protect you, feed, you, clothe you and house you. You already mean a great deal to me. In a very real sense you are my treasure. Without you this is just an empty house. I look forward to when you understandable sadness passes. I am sure that when you smile it will light up this house like a torch. I very much want to see that smile. I also very much expect your obedience."

With that he bent and kissed me for the first. I returned his kiss and felt a sudden calm as his huge strong arms wrapped themselves about my slim form. For the first time my fear left me. I began to kiss my way down his muscular torso until I was kneeling eye level to his massive cock. I had a hard time at first getting all of him into my mouth, but at last I managed it. He had quite the staying power and my jaw was sore by the time he finally came. Even if I had not been ordered to do so, I knew that swallowing was my only option. As Kellen Schwartz's man juice slid down my throat I tried, in vain to recall the taste of my husband, Kent.

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