Slaves of Elysium (18 page)

A plumpish man in a black-sashed tunic emerged from a doorway and came forward, a genial smile on his round face. ‘I am Takydis Lev, steward of the House of Remnos. May I see your orders, sirs?'

The guard leader handed over his computer pad, and then had the girls turn so they stood shoulder to shoulder. With little clicks their ankle cuffs locked together, hobbling them and ensuring they stood straight. Takydis walked down the line, checking off their numbers against the displayed list. He paused as he came to Rebecca and Jeni.

‘An interesting pair,' he observed. ‘Ah yes, the golden-haired barbarians. I'm sure we can do much with them.' He pressed his thumb to a panel on the pad, by way of signing for the delivery.

‘We shall have their restraints returned to the Erekthion as usual,' he told the prison guards. ‘Meanwhile, the House of Remnos takes charge of these creatures. You may be assured they will be trained to the highest standards and earn the council an excellent price in the sales, less our professional fees, of course. If that is all, sirs, then I bid you good day.'

Takydis bowed the guards out, then returned to the line of girls, walking slowly round them, examining their faces, prodding a buttock here, tweaking a nipple there.

‘Yes, quite promising,' he declared. ‘And you two barbarians; most distinctive.' He frowned and leaned closer, and said slowly and deliberately, ‘You can understand me, I trust?'

Jeni and Rebecca nodded.

‘Good. It would be annoying to have to teach you the language as well as slave deportment. Well, there is much to be done. First we shall remove those cumbersome restraints and ugly prison numbers.' He unhooked a controller from his belt and freed their ankles. ‘This way.'

Takydis led them across the courtyard and through a door, which opened onto the landing of a white stone stairway set against the outer wall of the building. Taking them down a flight they found themselves in a large, windowless chamber, lit by softly glowing wall panels. Apart from sets of copper control plates on the walls, floor and ceiling, the chamber was hung about with a vast selection of chains, straps, rods, hoods and other implements whose precise purpose Jeni could not begin to guess at. There were also larger but equally strangely shaped devices resting on the floor, only one of which Jeni recognised as being similar to the device in Mykran Rado's laboratory, which had cast her collar and cuffs in place.

As Takydis released the linking rods holding the coffle together, he secured each girl to a set of wall plates. The last one freed was Jeni, he ushered her over to the stocks, and obediently she bent and placed her neck, wrists and ankles in the scalloped holes reserved for them. The halves of the stocks closed and Takydis began working at the device's control panel.

Jeni felt the machine vibrate and a buzzing sensation where it touched her. Then came metallic clunks as her collar and cuffs dropped into a hopper at the base of the machine. Somehow it had removed the seamless bands quickly and painlessly, swallowed them up and deposited them neatly for reuse. But what would be fitted in their place?

While she was bent over Takydis removed her bridle gag and chastity belt, and almost casually his hand slid between her parted thighs to feel the swell of her pubic pouch, like one might examine a dog at a show. Then he set the machine working once again, and Jeni felt the familiar hot/cold sensation about her neck, wrists and ankles, then the halves of the stocks opened up.

Jeni stood up and examined her new restraints. They were of tight fitting golden metal with chased patterns on them and much slimmer than the set she had worn for the last month. The wrist cuffs were hardly thicker than bracelets and, feeling her collar, it seemed now more like a choker band. Each piece did have a ring dangling from it, presumably for attaching snap-links or padlocks, but if she had seen them on somebody else she might almost have mistaken them for ordinary jewellery.

Takydis was smiling at her expression. ‘Much slimmer and more graceful than those prison cuffs, are they not?'

‘Yes, master,' Jeni said.

‘And more attractive?'

‘Yes, master. Thank you, master.'

‘Mistress Remnos wants her girls to feel valued,' Takydis said. ‘But there is one thing you must remember.'

He pointed his controller at Jeni, and her wrists were jerked up to a copper plate set in the ceiling as her ankles were drawn to one in the floor, leaving her stretched like an arrow between them. Jeni whimpered as the slender rings dug painfully into her flesh.

Still smiling, Takydis continued. ‘But as you see, they will cut your skin if you fight them. I imagine it's quite uncomfortable. Is that so, girl?'

‘It is, master,' Jeni said in a quavering voice.

‘You must understand that it is a way of encouraging you to accept your bonds and wear them gracefully. Will you remember that?'

‘Yes, master, I will,' Jeni said desperately.

He looked at the other girls lined up against the wall, watching Jeni's discomfort, their wide eyes shining out from between the straps of their bridles. ‘Will you all remember?'

They nodded in unison.

‘Good. A valuable lesson learned, I think.'

Takydis adjusted his controller and the force holding Jeni weakened, allowing her feet to touch the floor and reducing the strain on her arms. Jeni shivered and swayed in her bonds. She must learn not to take things at face value. They were here to be trained as slaves. Just because the surroundings were elegant and the staff well spoken, did not mean it was going to be easy. Takydis might look chubby and amiable, but it would not do to underestimate him.

One by one, Takydis removed their bridles and belts, and exchanged all their prison restraints for the golden bands of the House of Remnos. When they were all secured between floor and ceiling plates like Jeni, he went along the line of them with an aerosol spray and cloth. A puff of something with a strong chemical tang over their chests and a wipe of the cloth and their prison numbers were gone, leaving only the ghost of the characters in slightly paler skin.

Then Takydis brought out a smaller version of the prison stamping device and checked the girls' names off his list. Adjusting the stamp he then carefully applied it to the right shoulder and then the left hip of the first native girl, leaving behind in deep red ink the house name, framed by curlicues and flourishes, above the name of the girl herself in smaller lettering. He changed the setting on the stamp and then moved to the next girl. In this way Jeni learned for the first time that the other girls with them were called Reena, Zarri and Cynim.

Reena was brown-eyed, and had a well proportioned figure with full breasts and wide, womanly hips. Zarri was shorter, almost petit, with black eyes, a slim figure, rounded breasts and neat buttocks. Cynim had slightly paler skin than the other two and her eyes were greenish. She was as tall as Reena, but her hips and shoulders were slimmer, making her prominent breasts with their upturned nipples seem heavier than they were. All had black hair, Reena's tied back in a ponytail, Zarri's close-cropped and Cynim's shoulder-length, with a square-cut fringe. Zarri might have been eighteen, the other two a couple of years older, but how could she be sure of true ages here?

From their nervous manner it was obvious this was as new to the three of them as to herself and Rebecca, with Cynim the most outwardly anxious of all. Jeni wondered where they had come from and what they had done to be condemned to slavery.

Takydis saved Rebecca and Jeni for last. He had them say their names several times while he experimented with the Elysian phonetic spelling, until he decided on a form that was both close enough to the original and also looked elegant. Then he stamped them as he had the others. On their paler skins the marks looked as bright as blood.

He stepped back and admired his work. ‘Good,' he said. ‘So much more delicate and suitable to your forms. An owner's mark should enhance the beauty of its wearer as well as identify her. Talking of which, we must get the grime and street dust of you before you meet Mistress Kara in person.'

His words cheered Jeni. The opportunity to bathe or shower would be welcome after their long walk through the hot streets, even though they had hardly been the dust bowls Takydis Lev implied. She saw the same hopeful look on Rebecca's face.

Once again Jeni went first. Takydis released the field holding her and said briskly, ‘Take off your sandals, girl. Be quick about it.'

Jeni pulled off her sandals and was ushered over to what seemed to be a clear-sided shower stall in a corner of the room. She stepped inside and Takydis closed the door. Jeni looked for the taps, but could see only an array of nozzles mounted on hinged arms that folded out from the rear wall of the stall, while above her was a large metal cap lined with rubber studs. How was she to turn the water on?

Her cuffs jerked into life, pulling her arms out wide and feet apart. The gleaming nozzle arms unfolded and extended until they completely encircled her. Water blasted out of them from every direction, even up into her groin, soaking her in seconds as she coughed and screwed up her eyes against the blast. The spray changed to a lightly scented soapy mixture and in moments she was covered in foam from top to toe. The metal cap descended on her soapy wet hair and the rubber studs became fingers, massaging the soap into her scalp. Jeni stopped wriggling. An automated shampoo. That was rather nice. Maybe this was not going to be so bad, after all.

Then bristling pads like scrubbing brushes emerged from the articulated arms and ground into her skin with remorseless intent, lifting any trace of dead skin, dirt and grime in their path. Even her pubic bush was scrubbed through, the bristles tormenting her soft folds of flesh as they scraped between them. Jeni whimpered with their vigour, her body feeling as though she was being sandpapered. The bristles retracted as suddenly as they had emerged and spongy pads blossomed at the ends of the shower arms and started twirling and oscillating, working the soap more gently into her skin. It had the mechanical efficiency of a carwash, but it almost began to feel as though she was being pampered. Suddenly she felt a mechanical arm slide between her thighs. Soft-tipped nozzles probed her cleft and the pucker of her anus, and flexible tubes insinuated themselves into her like oiled snakes. Jeni shrieked and spluttered as water hissed from tiny holes in their sides and ends. A fresh cold stream washed out her vaginal passage while warm, soapy water coursed through her bowels, her wastes being sucked out down a second tube as they were forced out of her by the inward flow.

The shampooing ceased and her hair was rinsed clean with needle-jets of fresh water. The tubes withdrew from her front and rear passages, the latter coming free with a reluctant fluid pop as it left a final squirt of scented oil behind. Fresh water blasted once more from the main spray array, washing her clean. With a hiss warm air jets cut in, blowing the water droplets from her skin and drying her off in seconds. The shower cap hissed and sucked at her hair, the rubber fingers fluffing and spreading the strands as it drew them out to dry.

Then the arms folded back, the invisible force released its grip on her cuffs and the stall door swung open. It was over. She had been washed, scrubbed, shampooed, douched and given an enema, and it had all taken less than two minutes.

Dazed, Jeni tottered out of the stall. Takydis secured her to the wall and sent the next girl in. Jeni hung limply in her bonds, hardly aware of her surroundings. That had been a unique experience. She felt squeaky clean, shaken and unexpectedly stimulated. The oil squirted up her bottom teased the skin round her anal sphincter with its slippery promise. Would this be a regular occurrence? And why were they not allowed to wash themselves? Surely few women would miss the opportunity to keep themselves clean and fresh. Was it simple speed and efficiency, or that the machine ensured a consistent standard of cleanliness, both inside and out?

Of course, there was another explanation. Their personal hygiene was no longer their own concern. Others now determined how clean Jeni and the other girls would be, because it was they that the girls would have to please before themselves. They were slaves, after all.

By the time Jeni's head had cleared, Rebecca was in the shower. Unabashed, Jeni watched through the clear sides of the stall as she was washed and scrubbed, enjoying the way the sponge arms lifted and rolled Rebecca's glistening, soapy breasts between them. Her nipples were hard and red, Jeni noticed, helplessly stimulated by the scrubbing, as were her own. Then she smiled at how far Rebecca's eyes bulged when the douche and enema tubes slipped into her. A miniature waterfall gushed from her vagina as she was flushed out. When it was done, Rebecca crawled from the stall on her hands and knees.

Finally they were all perfectly clean and dry and hanging loosely in the restraints. Jeni felt excited and yet also relaxed, despite her uncertainty about what was yet to come. Could one shower, however vigorous and intimate, do that?

Takydis addressed them earnestly. ‘Shortly you will be assessed by Remnos Kara in person. Think yourselves lucky you are in the hands of such a skilled trainer. When a slave from the House of Remnos is sent to the auction, all know they are buying quality. You will be on your best behaviour, because you don't want to disappoint her...' he gave a little smile that was devoid of any humour, ‘...or me. Don't speak until you are spoken to, and address her at all times as Mistress Kara. While you are in the care of the House of Remnos, she is your absolute master, remember that.'