User Friendly!
by Sadie
(BD-015)


HEDONIA 

Luke Blackmoor paused before the gleaming VIP doors and took a deep breath, 
a little anxious about what he would find on the other side of them. He had 
been well briefed, of course, but now the moment was upon him, he couldn't 
help remembering that no-one had ever been in his position before, and he 
couldn't be completely sure that everything would go according to plan. 

Adjusting his clothing one final time, he turned to the starship Captain 
standing at his side and nodded his okay. 

"See you in a month," said the Captain, pressing the door release, and Luke 
stepped out onto the planet Hedonia. 

There was no evidence of the huge arrivals terminal into which the ship had 
been steered, nor of that vehicle's massive bulk towering above him. He 
walked down the silent, carpeted exit chute and found himself in a large but 
unremarkable hall in which a delegation was waiting to meet him. 

Two tall, imposing men stood side by side, with a uniformed guard of six 
soldiers close behind them. Luke recognized the older of the two 
immediately. It was the President himself, his face familiar from Luke's 
briefings and the occasional news report back home. He was dressed all in 
black with a gold insignia on his top, and while his hair was gray and his 
face a little wrinkled, he was obviously very fit, and radiated health. 

A strong leader, in the prime of his life and career. 

The younger man was also dressed in plain black, and was thinner, with an 
angular face and short dark hair. His expression was formal, but his eyes 
betrayed friendliness with a touch of curiosity. 

"Welcome to Hedonia," said the President, extending a hand. "As the first 
United Planets independent observer ever to visit us, I'd like you to be 
assured of our goodwill, and extend every courtesy to you for the duration 
of your stay." 

Here, the President indicated his colleague. "Jed is my personal Aide, and 
has been assigned to spend the next month showing you around and helping you 
with your brief. We're anxious to create a good impression." 

Luke and Jed shook hands. 

"I'm happy to be here," said Luke, pleased, in fact, that his welcome had 
been so cordial. After all, his was a very sensitive assignment, and all 
parties were very well aware of it. 

He reached into his jacket. "These are my papers. As you'll know, my purpose 
here is merely to observe and report. I hope my presence won't inconvenience 
you too much." 

"Not at all," said the President. "But please, we have some drinks set aside 
through here, if you'd care to join us." 

They walked a little way and entered a smaller and more sumptuously 
decorated room, at one side of which a large table had been laid out with 
drinks and attractive snacks. One of the guards fixed drinks for the three 
men, who seated themselves in some comfortable chairs which awaited, and all 
made an effort to chat a little and appear to be at ease. 

After a short while, though, Jed set his glass down and addressed Luke with 
some seriousness. 

"We've been giving some thought to how to introduce you to our way of life 
here, which is obviously different to your own, and have decided that it has 
to be something akin to total immersion from the start. We don't want to 
isolate you too much, and it's going to be difficult even taking you out of 
this room if we wait until we've explained everything before letting you see 
us as we are. All I'm trying to say, Luke if I may call you that is that you 
must bear with us initially, and perhaps save some of your questions until 
later. We anticipate your being shocked by what you see once we pass out 
into the public part of the terminal, but if we can just get to the 
President's residence, where you'll be staying, we'll give you as much 
information as you want. After all, you've got a month here, and we have no 
intention of keeping anything from you." 

Shortly after this speech, Luke was ushered towards another door which slid 
open and, flanked by the guards, the three of them stepped out into a public 
concourse. 

Luke's first impression was that the sight was quite familiar. Check-in 
desks, escalators, advertising hoardings, and a crowd of busy people rushing 
to and fro. 

A second later, he realized that there was something strange going on 
several people seemed to be on the floor and there was an impression of 
vertical movement people dropping down and getting up. 

Then, with a shock, he caught sight of some naked breasts in the crowd, and 
even more shocking, a naked posterior flashing in his direction. 

Inadvertently he felt himself flushing with embarrassment. Naked female 
flesh quite so blatantly on display in public places was not at all 
something which could be seen in the transport termini back home, or indeed 
on any other planet he knew of. 

"This way," said Jed, touching Luke's arm, and they walked towards a distant 
sign marked 'Exit'. 

Now Luke could observe the behavior going on around him and work out what 
was happening. The crowd was a mixture of men and women, and the women were 
smartly and relatively conventionally dressed. Shortish skirts and variously 
styled tops in a variety of colors and patterns. Some carried bags and 
briefcases, some walked in pairs, chatting. It all looked quite normal, 
except for what Luke could see was happening every few seconds. 

As a woman chanced to cross their path this one was very young and blonde 
she dropped to her knees, just in front of them, but not blocking their way, 
lifted up her top in one quick movement and shook her naked breasts at them! 
The party kept walking, and as they passed her, Luke noticed she was saying 
something in a quiet monotone. He looked back and saw her rise to her feet 
again, drop her top, and carry on her way as if nothing had happened. 

A moment later, the same thing happened again, this time with an older woman 
whose breasts were hardly attractive. Again she did it with no change of 
expression, and began immediately to recite some sort of incantation. 

The third time a woman came hurrying towards them, however, something 
different occurred. She dropped to her knees, but turning away from them, 
and lowered her head to the floor. Next, in a very quick movement she pulled 
up her skirt at the back, revealing a full bottom half enclosed in pink 
panties, and then pulled those panties down, revealing her hairy sex to the 
male passers-by. Finally she split her legs a little wider and shook her ass 
from side to side. She had assumed this erotic posture so quickly that Luke 
was quite taken aback, and embarrassed by the sudden, massive stirring in 
his loins. He couldn't help stopping to look at the erotically proffered 
butt, and the others paused also. The woman started to get up, but seeing 
that the men were still there and looking at her, she promptly dropped into 
position again and continued to shake her buttocks around vigorously. 

Speechless, Luke moved on, only to find the same thing happen again a moment 
later, this time with two women, who broke off their conversation and 
presented their naked bottoms simultaneously. Neither of these two, he 
noticed, had been wearing pants. 

As they walked the length of the hall, at least twenty women prostrated 
themselves in a similar manner, exposing either their tits or their butt to 
the men's gaze without, it seemed, batting an eyelid. In one case a group of 
four laughing young women performed the act together, presenting two pussies 
and two pairs of tits. 

As they approached the exit, Luke stopped again and looked back. It 
obviously wasn't just the President who was getting this attention. It was 
happening whenever a woman crossed a man's path. Few of the men seemed to 
pay much attention to what was being displayed to them, but merely threw the 
juddering female flesh a quick glance before continuing on their way. The 
women seemed to get in and out of position and adjust their clothing so 
quickly that their actions hardly seemed to interrupt their own progress. 

Luke was very aroused by what he was seeing, but still very confused. He 
half turned to Jed, who seemed to sense his question. 

"You see," said the Aide, "our women are in the habit of showing respect. 
They present either their breasts or their buttocks alternately, which 
ensures that us men get a balanced combination of the options." 

"But," said Luke, wiping his brow of some sweat which had accumulated there. 
"But surely this can't happen all the time? How can they live like that? How 
can they get anything done?" 

"It does happen all the time," Jed replied. "In public, that is. In private 
there are other procedures, as you'll find out. And this is only for women 
who aren't being used in some more specific way, of course," he added 
mysteriously. 

Not really registering this last bit, Luke struggled for understanding. "So 
if a woman passes a man in the street, or in a shop, she has to expose 
herself every time?" 

"Well, you wouldn't find a man in a shop! But essentially, yes, she shows 
her respect in this way throughout her life to any stranger who happens to 
pass her, or look in her direction." 

"But our culture is much more complex that this, as you'll see," said the 
President, enjoying his visitor's discomfort and confusion just as much as 
he'd anticipated. "For example, if a man talks to a woman if she actually 
remains in his presence something different happens. Look, I'll show you." 

A particularly buxom woman was passing, and just as she was about to put her 
bag down and fall to her knees, the President addressed her. 

"Cunt, come here." 

Luke was shocked by the choice of language, but the woman didn't seem to be. 
She smiled and stepped forward, then deftly opened her top to expose her 
breasts and lifted her skirt to reveal a naked bottom and pussy beneath. In 
an instant she dropped right to the floor and kissed the President's feet. 
With her head still down she murmured the incantation, and for the first 
time Luke heard the words. 

"I am yours, Master. Do with me as you will." 

"Rise," said the President, and the woman stood up. 

"Mr. President, it's an honor!" she chirped, still smiling. 

"Yes," came the reply. "Cunt, this is an outworld visitor." The President 
indicated Luke and the woman immediately dropped to the floor again and 
kissed Luke's feet, saying the incantation once more. 

"Rise," said the President again, "and explain to this gentleman what you've 
just done." 

The woman stood up and for a moment her good natured expression became 
confused. 

"Well, Sir, I have been introduced to you. It is customary to show respect 
in this way when one is presented to a man." 

"And why have you exposed yourself?" the President asked. 

The woman's eyes opened wide as if she couldn't believe that an answer was 
needed to such an obvious question. 

"Why, because a woman must always expose her erotic regions when in the 
present of a man!" 

Luke couldn't stop staring at those erotic regions. The way she had become 
transformed from a conventional looking woman, to this half naked image of 
sexuality, the way her skirt was hoisted and her tits presented so casually 
in public, and all while she smiled and talked without concern, was having a 
powerful effect on his masculinity. It was with great effort that he tried 
to appear unflustered. 

The President turned to Luke. 

"You have a lot to learn about our way of life," he said sighing. "There are 
a lot of other things I could demonstrate with this woman, but perhaps you'd 
be more comfortable in private initially." He turned to the woman again. 
"You are privileged to have spoken with us." 

"Yes, Sir, of course!" 

"You will spend tomorrow in a penance chamber." 

"Yes, Sir!" Her tone indicated pleasant surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, 
Sir." 

"Shake-walk with us to the door." 

The woman began to move in the most amusing, and what seemed to Luke, 
humiliating, manner. She minced along, shaking her bottom from side to side 
and her tits round and round like some exotic dancer. Again, it was very 
shocking to see this sort of thing in the middle of a busy public place, in 
a woman who otherwise seemed so conventional. The 'shake-walk' obviously 
needed a great deal of effort, skill and energy, but she kept it up as they 
walked out through the exit, sometimes throwing a respectful smile back at 
them over her shoulder. 

As they approached a waiting vehicle and two of the guards stepped around to 
open the doors, the President reached out to play briefly with the jiggling 
tits. Then, totally unexpectedly, he slapped the woman heavily across the 
face once, twice, three times. She almost lost her balance, but she didn't 
stop the mad shaking and wriggling of her tits and buttocks. She made no 
comment about the slapping, and her expression remained completely happy and 
unconcerned. 

"Keep shaking in this spot for two hours," the President instructed her, and 
her final "Yes, Sir" betrayed not the slightest hint of reluctance. 

As the vehicle drove away from the terminal, Luke watched the woman, who 
remained rooted to the spot, shaking herself vigorously all over, oblivious 
to the vehicles pulling up and people walking by all around her. 

Wow! thought Luke, eyebrows raised, but refrained from expressing himself to 
his new companions. He was certainly looking forward to learning more about 
this amazing planet, he had to admit! 

"It's all rather complicated to explain," said Jed as they settled into the 
comfortable back seat. "What you've seen is probably the least extreme of 
the ways in which our cultures differ. The terminal handles a huge flow of 
internal traffic to all parts of the planet, as is really geared up for 
business, not pleasure. So there aren't as many distractions as usual." 

Jed could see that Luke didn't understand. As far as the bemused visitor was 
concerned, there had been a huge amount of distraction-but he hadn't seen 
anything yet! 

"Again, I'm trying to warn you a little," Jed continued. "The terminal is 
tame some elements of our way of life are, well, more extreme." 

Here the President interrupted. 

"I think we'd better just let Luke see things for himself. A picture a view 
out of that window, for example is worth a thousand words, as they say. Let 
Hedonia speak for itself!" 

The car sped on, and the independent observer began to independently observe 
in earnest. 

These are some of the things Luke saw on his journey between the arrival 
port and the President's Palace, which was to become his temporary 
residence. 

The city streets were broad, clean and attractive, lined with a variety of 
modernistic buildings and an abundance of greenery trees and flowers 
creating an exotic feel. 

The streets were busy. Men in suits carrying briefcases hurried about their 
business, much as they did on all the planets Luke had visited, but on 
occasion, here, they were accompanied by women, behaving a little 
differently to women elsewhere. Some walked beside their male colleagues, 
conducting conversations, but had their blouses open and their skirts 
hitched up to their waists at the back, resulting in the somewhat shocking 
spectacle of extreme eroticism juxtaposed with everyday life. 

In other cases, Luke observed wide-eyed, the women were completely naked and 
more obviously servile. Several struggled along behind their male 
companions, laden down with packages or luggage. One such particularly 
caught Luke's eye because she was perched on extremely high heels and her 
legs appeared to be hobbled together with a short chain. Peeping over the 
top of the huge pile of parcels she held in her outstretched arms, she 
tripped rapidly along, trying to keep up with the young man in front of her, 
who strode down the street nonchalantly, hands in pockets. 

Then again, some women were crawling on all fours, their bodies variously 
decorated, if that was the word, with bondage straps and belts and buckles. 
Rubber, leather and black shiny plastic were abundant, and chains and 
handcuffs seemed just as common. It seemed that what on other worlds would 
be seen as extremely kinky or risque, was very much the norm in Hedonia. 

In one place a little train of four women joined together by chains crawled 
along the pavement rapidly, one behind the other. Each was so laden down by 
huge bundles, piled up on and strapped down to her back, that only her 
nodding head and naked legs and buttocks could be seen. There was no sign of 
anyone leading or directing these women. They seemed to know where they were 
going themselves, and shuffled along in the right direction hurriedly, as if 
this was something they did every day which it was and hardly remarkable at 
all. A little further along was an even more amazing sight. Perched high up 
on an animal that looked just like the camels back home, a robed, male 
figure made his way along a dusty track which ran along the edge of a sort 
of park. Attached to the camel's saddle was a long leash by means of which 
was being led a long string of walking haystacks! Huge bundles of what 
looked like hay or straw, two or three times the width of the camel and at 
least as high, were moving along one behind the other, in the most amazing 
caravan Luke had ever seen. Were there more camels under these bales? There 
was no sign of any. Were they perhaps donkeys, or even conceivably some sort 
of mechanized trolleys? No. If you looked carefully, you could just see the 
pack animals' feet protruding from under their massive loads human feet in 
high heels! One of each of these feet was attached by a long chain to one of 
those below the bale behind, thus forming a string of ten or so hay bales, 
struggling blindly along the dusty park path, and occasionally, Luke 
happened to notice, treading in some camel shit! 

He was later to find out that the hay was being transported to a large 
stable at one end of the park where several camels and horses were kept for 
recreational reasons. The bales were apparently so well attached to the hot, 
uncomfortable women in the middle of them, that no one bothered to get the 
women out before the hay was given to the camels and horses as feed. Each 
bale was simply expected to waddle into a convenient part of the stable, and 
either stand or lie on the ground while the animals ate the feed from around 
her, an operation which could take on average several days. 

The women were fed and watered through pipes and merely dropped their wastes 
onto the ground with those of the animals. It was therefore the case that 
many of them had not actually been seen by anyone for years. They had almost 
literally become straw personified shuffling round the park from place to 
place, and tossed in amongst the animals whenever they were needed. 
Sometimes, if for example there had been a change of shift amongst the 
stable hands, they could get forgotten, especially when they were lying down 
against a wall somewhere and perhaps got covered with some extra straw 
bedding. Apparently one such human hay bale had got so covered with 
horseshit after lying on the floor of a stable for a couple of weeks, 
unheeded, that they couldn't really clean her and her hay up properly and 
decided to leave her there permanently. 

The above mentioned camels and horses were often hired out by male riders, 
not just for their own enjoyment, but to exercise women. This was evident 
from the number of horses which could be seen trotting or cantering round 
the park rides with variously attired and embondaged women running along at 
full stretch behind them. The one that caught Luke's eye was a shortish 
woman with massive tits which were bound round with rope, and by which she 
was being virtually dragged behind a cantering stallion ridden by a whooping 
teenager. Her arms were tied tightly behind her back and her head seemed to 
be pulled right back by straps from her forehead to her waist. But the 
strangest funniest thing was that her legs were separated really widely by a 
rigid leg spreader, making her extremely rapid gait the most amazingly 
difficult and amusing mode of locomotion Luke had ever seen a human being 
perform. 

There was so much that was different and initially confusing, that Luke 
couldn't take everything in. He tried not to appear too surprised by what he 
was seeing, and hoped he wasn't blushing. More naked women were in evidence 
in shop window displays, in a variety of shocking advertisements, and 
apparently adorning public monuments for example, a fountain appeared to 
include three posing, naked women as its centerpiece, and a flower bed 
sprouted naked ladies around which climbing foliage appeared to have been 
draped, or-could it be possible? was growing. 

The road itself was divided in each direction into three lanes. The outer 
two held fast moving traffic such as the limousine in which they were 
traveling, but the inner one was reserved for a different type of transport. 
To Luke's astonishment, they passed a number of carts and carriages being 
pulled by women! Some were small such as that tiny personal cart with one 
woman in tight bondage trotting along in front of a large gentleman reading 
a newspaper. Others here they zoomed past one were on a larger scale. A team 
of some twenty near naked women strained to move a huge piece of mechanical 
equipment. This sort of thing was all the more confusing for being obviously 
unnecessary. In a world of starships and super technology, woman-power could 
only exist from some other motive such as entertainment. 

Then it had only been a few minutes, although the culture shock had been so 
great that it felt like much longer to Luke it seemed they were at their 
destination. The Palace was undoubtedly urban the atmosphere was still that 
of a busy city centre and undoubtedly modern in design; and yet it was 
sufficiently splendid, ornate and surrounded by spectacular gardens to give 
the impression of a historic country mansion. Huge decorative gates swung 
open to let them pass, and blossom trees lined the road to the magnificent 
columned frontage of the building. 

Out of the car, up some steps, through a massive doorway, and Luke was face 
to face with another shocking sight. 

A long, solid, heavy reception desk was positioned to one side of the ultra 
modern entrance hall, and three unbelievably buxom, extremely 

IS naked, superbly attractive women smiled a welcome at them and chorused a 
greeting. 

"Welcome home, Mr. President. We are yours, Masters!" 

This would've been pretty stimulating in itself, had the women merely been 
sitting behind the desk in a conventional manner. But no! They were sticking 
out from the middle of it protruding from the waist up through three holes 
in the centre of the broad marbled surface. It was clear from the first 
glance that there was no way the massive proportions of their chests could 
get through the small hole that held them at the waist, and the same applied 
to their ample hips, which could be seen below the surface of the desk. No, 
the solid structure must somehow have been made around them. They were 
permanently trapped at the waist, standing still and naked on high heels, 
and yet busying themselves with paperwork and telephones as if they were 
normal receptionists, and not permanent fixtures in a piece of furniture. 

Luke was ushered into another huge reception room, and here again distracted 
by the subtle and not so subtle presence of naked female flesh, blending in 
with the general decor. 

Prominent in the room was a substantial, classical stone fireplace. The two 
motionless figures supporting the shelf at each side seemed at first to be 
sculptured pillars, but gentle breathing gave them away as living, naked 
women. 

A similar living sculpture served as a lamp stand, and on one wall, between 
the stuffed heads of a moose-like animal and a ferocious big cat, was 
presented the head and upper torso of a stupendously endowed human female. 
Unlike her bestial fellows, she was very much alive, which was obvious from 
the fact that she was violently shaking her tits all the time, rather like 
the woman they had left at the terminus had done. Later, Luke was to 
discover that the moose-woman's naked rear end also exceptionally shapely, 
and also constantly shaking and juddering by her own efforts was on display 
through the wall in the next room! 

The President clapped his hands and three women dressed in skimpy, 
provocative maids uniforms rushed into the room and threw themselves at the 
men's feet. 

"We are yours, Masters. Do with us as you will!" 

Suddenly, Luke saw the funny side of it all, and couldn't stop himself from 
uttering a chuckle and a sigh. 

He turned to Jed and the President. "I think I get the general idea now!" he 
said, and they all exchanged smiles of understanding. 

After being served some more refreshments by the maids, and a rather more 
relaxed chat about the current galactic situation in general, the President 
took his leave, asking Jed to show Luke to his room, and suggesting they 
talk again after Luke had been shown around a bit more. Luke, rather 
exhausted from ship-lag and a few troubled nights before his arrival, wanted 
nothing more than to collapse into bed and have time to readjust to what he 
had seen so far in privacy. So he was quite happy with the suggestion that 
they call it a day, and relieved again when Jed, just before opening the 
door to the comfortable apartment that would serve as Luke's refuge for the 
next month, informed him that they had decided to keep the rooms free from 
what he casually referred to as 'female fittings'. 

"We thought you might feel uncomfortable about them at first, but of course 
if you'd like some installed, you'd be more than welcome we could discuss 
your preferences." 

"Maybe at some point," Luke conceded, "but it's fine as it is just now." 

The rooms were, like the whole building, that pleasing mixture of modern and 
ornate, and without doubt extremely comfortable and welcoming. His luggage 
stood in one corner, presumably transported separately from the ship. 

It had, in fact, all been carried in one go up five flights of stairs by a 
severely shackled young lady, whose sole function was to perform such 
duties, but Luke never knew or suspected this, mainly because the building 
had a more than adequate supply of ultra modern, super fast lifts! 

"Are you sure you wouldn't like, er, some company tonight? Perhaps just a 
maid to help you unpack?" 

Luke shook his head. "I'm fine, really. Will someone call me in the 
morning?" 

"Of course. I'll take you out and about tomorrow, and we can talk about 
anything you might need to do your work. Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." 

Luke explored the apartment briefly, then stripped and threw himself heavily 
onto the thick, soft mattress. He was ready to fall asleep, but his eye was 
caught by what was obviously a television in a corner of the room. Glancing 
at the bedside table, he found the complicated but not uncrackable remote 
control, and in the manner of travelers everywhere, decided to have a quick 
channel-hop to satisfy his curiosity. A lot could be told about a country or 
a culture by what it's citizens watched on the box! 

This, however, was television like he had never seen before, or even dreamed 
of in his wildest fantasies! 

Several channels consisted of bizarre and explicit porn. Serious bondage and 
whipping seemed to be common unbelievably so and some of the scenes Luke saw 
just from a few minutes random viewing were heavier than he had ever 
witnessed in his life before. 

But even more interesting were some of the mainstream programs. Game shows 
seemed to have reached or evolved independently even in this far flung 
corner of the universe. But these were game shows with a difference! One 
seemed to be an unremarkable quiz show with five male contestants answering 
general knowledge questions, until the camera switched to a row of five 
naked women lashed firmly to spiked whipping posts, and you realized that 
for every wrong answer one of the men made, his female team-mate received an 
artistically delivered lashing with a bull whip from the quizmaster's 
glamorous, leather-clad female assistant! 

Another show seemed to feature women competing to endure increasingly severe 
punishments and mind boggling humiliation. Entitled 

'Endurance' actually similar to a much milder variety of the same idea Luke 
had seen back home the program switched between live studio competitions of 
women performing seemingly impossible feats of effort (like pulling round 
carts full of stones by chains fixed to rings in their nipples, or dragging 
themselves across beds of sharp gravel while tied up hand and foot and laden 
down with huge fucksacks full of sand), while cheered or jeered by an 
excited male audience, and reports on longer term activities women had 
undertaken in an attempt to get on the program. For example, two women had 
been competing with each other by spending a year chained up in a public 
lavatory and keeping score of the number of bottoms they had licked clean. 
Luke found this so shocking that he changed channels before hearing the 
scores and then regretted it! 

A soap opera seemed to have a story line revolving round a private school 
teaching willing women how to be ever more obedient and submissive, and even 
a serious documentary focused on Hedonian style sex, explaining how a new 
battery operated implant had been developed for breasts and buttocks which 
would cause them to wobble in the fashion of a 'shake-walk', but all by 
themselves. Film was shown of women with the devices in place going about 
their daily business, and even asleep their tits and bums bouncing and 
shaking away madly, regardless! 

Eventually, ultra tired and overloaded with so much astonishing input, Luke 
fell asleep. He dreamt about statues with wobbling tits coming to life and 
kissing his feet! 

* * * 

SETTLING IN 

Late morning of the following day found Luke and Jed sipping drinks in easy 
chairs in a comfortable lounge area, after having spent a boring but 
necessary hour or so putting the papers relating to the visit in order. 

Some further casual chat and the unspoken mutual admiration of the charms of 
the woman who had served them, so novelly, as an inkwell, had cemented, if 
not a real friendship, at least a comfortable working relationship between 
the two men. 

Luke was just commenting that he was beginning to feel in control of the 
overall situation, on a personal level, when a rather unexpected occurrence 
threw him once more into a somewhat less settled state of mind. 

From somewhere around a corner, a beautiful slim blonde girl flitted up to 
them and dropped to her knees with a smile. A large pendant around her neck 
bore the words 'At Your Service', but was insufficient to prepare Luke for 
the crudeness of her utterance. "I am yours, Masters," she said rapidly and 
bouncily. "Please spunk in my mouth!" 

The speed at which her mouth then formed an O shape, with tongue stuck out 
as far as it would go, was almost comical. "Not now," said Jed, rather 
automatically, adding as an afterthought to Luke. "Unless you'd like to?" 

Luke shook his head and watched, amazed, as the girl got to her feet and 
raced of f along a corridor, at the end of which, he could just see, she 
dropped to her feet again in front of some other Palace employee, who also 
dismissed her. 

"I'm sorry," said Luke, shaking his head, "but I'm just not used to the idea 
of this sort of thing happening. Naked women throwing themselves at your 
feet, and asking you to offering themselves for well, it's still all so 
different and shocking." 

Jed gave a little laugh. "You poor man! I'm sure you soon will get used to 
it. The President-likes the idea of women offering one specialist service 
there's a whole team of them who run around the buildings and the grounds 
offering themselves to every man they see. It gets rather tiresome actually, 
though it's nice to know these things are available. We had a girl like that 
dash into a meal we were having the other day, only this time she was 
begging each of us in turn to grace her tits with our seed. Quite a few 
obliged her, and I have to admit it was rather entertaining. They always 
look so flustered, these girls. They have to keep running everywhere, you 
see. They're not allowed to walk." 

At this very moment another 'At Your Service' girl came tearing across the 
room and threw herself to the floor in front of them. This one, however, 
assumed a more provocative pose by lying down on her back and pulling her 
legs open and up with her hands, after placing on her belly the short whip 
which she had been carrying. "I am yours, Masters," she panted, and then, 
"Please Sirs, will you whip my cunt?" 

"Bloody hell!" Luke exclaimed, unavoidably aroused by this easy, 
enthusiastic submission. "Men back home only dream about this sort of thing 
happening! I can hardly believe it!" 

"I hope you don't mind if I take up this lady's offer," said Jed, reaching 
forward. "I can't resist. I have a particular penchant for whipping pussy." 

Who was Luke to object? After all, the girl had offered herself willingly. 

S 

He watched as Jed expertly laid a few heavy strokes of the whip onto the 
proffered sex lips. The voluptuous figure flinched but didn't cry out. Of 
course she must be very used to taking whippings like this on her private 
parts, since that was her specialisation. 

Jed held the whip out to Luke. "Would you like to try?" But it was too soon, 
and Luke declined. The girl took back the whip which Jed tossed onto her 
stomach, gave an impassioned thank you, and hurried off to get whipped by 
someone else! 

"Well, prepare yourself for a good many more surprises. There's lots of 
things I can show you today. I suggest we have something to eat and then 
have a stroll around. Are you hungry?" 

Luke said that he was, a little. 

"Then let's go." 

As they left the Palace and traversed the sunlit, though slightly chilly, 
streets, Luke explained his choice of lunch venue. "There are so many 
restaurants, all offering different types of food and service, I didn't know 
which one to choose as your first. Hopefully, over the next few weeks, 
you'll have time to try several of them. You don't mind eating out?" 

"Not at all," said Luke. "I'm looking forward to it. What I've tried of your 
food so far seems wonderful." 

Jed smiled. "Well, this is one of my favorites. Here we are; I'll lead the 
way." 

It was a huge, ultra-modern looking building which Luke would have taken for 
a suite of offices rather than a restaurant. No garish signs or advertising 
on the outside, just a tasteful notice over the door The Comfort Parlour. 

Once through the double doors, they entered a lobby, beautifully furnished 
and smelling slightly and pleasantly of food, wine and smoke. 

Looking around him, Luke's eyes were drawn to the ceiling, and he just 
managed to restrain himself from gasping at what he saw there. It was high 
and domed, and decorated lavishly in an antique style, with gold leaf and 
delightful paintings of flowers, fruit, cherubs, and naked ladies. Only, 
Luke realized immediately, four of the naked ladies, who formed the 
centre-piece of the design, were alive! Heaven knows how they were attached 
they looked as if they were glued onto the ceiling, their sumptuous pink 
curves free of any sign of fixings or harness their large tits dangling 
downwards, and their faces fixed in an immovable smile. It was a beautiful 
piece of art one of many Luke would see on Hedonia which incorporated real 
women. 

They were greeted cordially by a refined looking gentleman, who obviously 
knew Jed and treated him with the greatest respect. 

"We're very pleased to welcome you, Sir," he said to Luke. "If 
anything-anything at all-is not to your complete satisfaction, just tell us, 
and we will change it immediately--immediately! Now, Gentlemen, your coats." 

With this, he clicked his fingers and a dark curtain slid back to reveal a 
cloakroom Luke would never forget. Rows upon rows of coats, yes, indicated 
that the restaurant was busy, but instead of conventional coat hooks, the 
garments were draped over live naked women, standing neatly in rows within 
some kind of framework. The Maitre d' clicked his fingers again and a 
completely naked woman presumably the next in line to be used left the 
nearest row and shuffled towards them. Her ankles were joined by a six inch 
steel bar, which hobbled her so effectively that it was obviously a struggle 
for her to move. However, she promptly threw herself on the floor at their 
feet and kissed each of their shoes in turn. 

"I am yours, Masters," she said, and then, as she struggled to stand up 
again, "Welcome to the Pleasure Parlour. I'm your coat hook for this 
afternoon." 

The girl then helped them to remove their coats, and, carrying one over each 
arm, hobbled quickly back to her position in the coat rack. There were cuffs 
on her wrists, and one after the other she raised her arms and clicked the 
cuffs onto a waiting catch on the coat frame, just above eye level. Her arms 
were thus fixed out and up, square that is with her upper arms, over which 
the heavy coats were draped, horizontal, and her lower arms upright and held 
firmly at the wrists. She then did a little manoeuvre with her feet and a 
lock clicked shut in the middle of her hobble bar. In this position she 
would obviously stay until their meal was completed perhaps a couple of 
hours of standing still and doing nothing except hoping the coats weren't 
dislodged from her arms, and dwelling on the fact of having her body used 
for a purpose so menial that a piece of metal would do it just as well. 
Looking around him, Luke saw that, compared to some of the other coat hooks, 
the girl was having an easy time. Some had been draped all over with several 
coats and bags, so their whole bodies, or certainly their faces, were 
completely obscured. One in particular was laden down so heavily with heavy 
fur jackets and pieces of luggage, that her legs were quivering with strain, 
and you could see the sweat running down them, so hot and uncomfortable she 
was beneath her load. Hats hung on tits, umbrellas dangled from mouths, and 
heavy bags hung around necks. There was hardly a sound, except for some 
rather heavy breathing, though. None of the coat hooks appeared to be 
complaining about the difficult, boring use they were being put to. Luke was 
soon ushered away from the cloakroom area, and into an ante-room, where, 
before he knew it, another naked woman was throwing herself at his feet, and 
telling him how pleased she was to be able to serve him. Jed was being 
similarly flattered, and their guide now passed them over to the care of 
these women. "The ladies will take you through. A private booth, I assume." 

"Yes please," said Jed. "I think the open plan areas may be a bit too much 
of a shock for my colleague, at this stage." Intrigued, Luke followed the 
two naked waitresses, as he assumed they were, into a smallish room. There 
wasn't much to be seen in it, except two easy chairs, and Luke at first 
assumed that this was where they would sit to make their selection, but a 
comment from Jed informed him that it was here that they would be eating. 

The two women now did something rather unexpected they sat down on the 
chairs. 

Luke was confused there were only two chairs and he'd assumed they were for 
himself and Jed, but now it seemed the women would be joining them. 

He looked over at Jed and found him exhibiting an expression of amusement. 
"Where do we sit?" he asked the Aide. Jed couldn't resist a smile. "I 
thought this might throw you and I hope you'll excuse my grinning. It's just 
such a pleasure to show someone around our world to whom everything is new! 
You won't find a man on this planet who doesn't take these things for 
granted. But, in answer to your question," he went on, "we sit on top of the 
women! It's a common practice. You see, the chairs are particularly low and 
soft, so our human cushions sink in a little and aren't too lumpy and 
uncomfortable." 

Tentatively, taking his lead from Jed, Luke lowered himself gently onto the 
lap of the woman in his chair, and then, equally carefully, leant back 
against her soft tits. A low groan escaped her, but she kept still and 
relaxed, anxious that Luke should soon feel comfortable and completely 
forget that she was there. 

"Sitting on women is part of our cultural heritage," Jed was saying. "I hope 
you'll soon get used to it. If you find it too uncomfortable, you can always 
try them the other way round." Luke thought about this. "How do you mean." 

"Well, upside down. So you're sitting on their tits and their legs are 
supporting your back. You only have to ask and they'll change position." 

"Um, this will do for now, I think," said Luke, although the thought of 
where the woman's head would be in this inverted position certainly had its 
appeal. He'd never sat on a woman's tits before. In fact, now he thought of 
it, he'd never even sat on a woman's lap before certainly not while having a 
meal! 

What happened next was equally amazing. When the starter Jed ordered for 
them 'House Selection' arrived, Luke at last understood why this strange 
restaurant had no tables, an omission so obvious he hadn't dared remark on 
it. 

Two women walked into their private room, each carrying a huge tray 
supported in fact attached at her neck and waist, making her look something 
like an ice cream girl in a cinema. The difference was that her huge naked 
tits actually rested on the tray and formed the centerpiece of a sumptuous 
arrangement of food. Slices of meat and salad vegetables actually lay draped 
over the mounds of her breasts, and the mouth watering selection spilled 
artistically down onto two strategically placed plates, flanked by two jugs 
of liquid refreshments and a variety of condiments. 

Each woman carefully knelt down right in front of the diner she was about to 
serve and gave a smile of perfect humility and adoration. Very much taken 
aback, Luke sat mutely and let his living table feed him sumptuous mouthfuls 
of the wonderful food and sips of drink. Jed kept chatting to him but Luke 
could hardly concentrate. All he was aware of was the way the woman 
seductively transferred succulent titbits (giving the word a new meaning!) 
from the orbs of her breasts to his mouth, and the way the woman on which he 
was sitting moved underneath him slightly, so he could feel her nipples 
rubbing against his back, and feel the shape of her thighs against his rear. 
After a while Jed gave up the conversation, leaving the visitor to enjoy 
this new found heaven. 

Eventually, with a wistful wave and a blown kiss, the starter women rose and 
left, soon to be replaced by two more beauties, each wheeling in a covered 
trolley. Each of these women carried canisters of what had to be water and 
wine on their backs, from each of which a tube extended over their 
shoulders, around each tit two or three times, and ended just above the 
nipple. No further explanation was necessary whenever Luke wanted a drink he 
had merely to indicate his preference and the appropriate tit would be 
proffered for him to sup on. But what of the trolleys? As the metal lids 
were whipped theatrically away, a main course was disclosed such as Luke had 
never known before. This time a woman's back formed a plate on which were 
arranged choice cuts of steak in bite size pieces, mounds of potato and a 
garnish of salad. The woman herself rested on a huge platter surrounded by 
additional vegetables and decorated in every nook and cranny with more 
colorful foodstuffs. Her mouth held a big red apple, and the crack of her 
buttocks a sauce boat surrounded by 'crudities' (little crudely shaped 
pieces of raw vegetable!). 

It reminded Luke of the presentation of huge joints and fowl at medieval 
banquets. In fact, before his stay was over, he would see many more women 
laid out on banquet tables as part of the display in just such a manner. The 
Hedonians were nothing if not artistic when it came to women and food! 

Although once again, the water and wine maiden helped him to eat by feeding 
him choice mouthfuls with her fingers, he couldn't resist exploring the 
amazing food display himself, and took great pleasure in selecting, for 
example, a radish from its hiding place just beneath a fat tit, and dipping 
it in the pool of mayonnaise held in one of the woman's cupped hands. 

He also experimented with pouring gravy over the woman's back and watching 
it run slowly down over her curves. 

When it was time for dessert, a blonde beauty again knelt at Luke's feet, 
her upper torso cupped in a huge bowl of jelly in which her tits had been 
set, and balancing in her mouth a two layered cake tray festooned with cream 
covered delicacies. She served him with her own hands until he could eat no 
more, and then retreated to wait motionless until she was called on to offer 
her sweet delights again. 

Luke now had a raging erection, which he had no hope of hiding from Jed. 

"We're really very relaxed about that sort of thing," Jed ventured 
reassuringly. "It's likely to happen a lot, so perhaps we should get you 
accustomed to having it seen to." 

"Urn well-I don't know," Luke stammered. "What exactly do you mean?" 

"A discrete blow job while we have coffee? Or if you prefer I'll leave you 
alone. I'm sure your cushion could deal with it shall we ask her to invert?" 

Still Luke hesitated. "Well, if you were going to and if you're sure it 
won't cause offence, perhaps I'll try it with the coffee, as you suggested." 

"Arrange it," said Jed to his own human sweet trolley, who took her 
wobbling, jelly encased tits away, and was replaced just a moment later by 
two even more beautiful women covered in suggestive tattoos, who scurried 
into the room on all fours with their mouths wide open and made bee-lines 
for the two diners' straining cocks, which they wordlessly released from 
their clothing and set to work on with every sign of relish. 

Luke sat back against the soft cushion tits and thought of everything he had 
just experienced. What a meal! His cushion was offering him a drink of 
coffee from a cup which had materialized from somewhere, but he pushed it 
away. One thing at a time. His orgasm neared and for a moment he was 
embarrassed by his blatant arousal. At the last minute he tossed a napkin 
over the proceedings, and so only felt and not saw his first ejaculate on 
Hedonia swamp the willing mouth of what he already couldn't help thinking of 
as a top-notch sex machine. 

Luke was settling in! 

After lunch, Luke and Jed were strolling through one of the city plazas when 
they came across a stall offering a number of strange looking black boxes 
'For Hire'. Luke, who had resolved for professional reasons always to ask 
when he saw something he didn't understand, even though his ignorance could 
be embarrassing at times, stopped by the stall and asked Jed what the items 
were. 

"Pleasure boxes," Jed replied, and watched realization dawn slowly on Luke's 
face. 

"You're going to tell me they've got women in, aren't you?" said Luke. "But 
surely they're too small?" 

"Well, I guess the women are folded up pretty tightly, and pushed in so they 
fit." 

At this point the stallholder, who had noted their interest, approached 
them. 

"Can I help you, Gentlemen? Portable pleasure at very reasonable rates. 
Here." He lifted up one of the boxes by its carrying handle and held it in 
front of Luke. 

"Put your finger in the hole and see how strongly the lady sucks." The hole 
at the front of the box was its most obvious feature, and it wasn't 
difficult to work out what was supposed to go in it. Obediently, Luke 
inserted his index finger into the small hole in the proffered box, and sure 
enough, a wet tongue and a warm mouth immediately descended on it, licking 
and sucking with apparently tireless gusto. 

"She won't stop," the stallholder grinned. "If you held your, er, finger in 
there all day! After all, it's all she's got to do, suck whatever's thrust 
into that hole, and keep quiet in between times. Do you want to take her 
with you?" 

Luke withdrew his finger. Just projecting what it would be like to stick his 
cock into that anonymous pleasure hole was having a rather obvious effect on 
him. 

"Urn," he began, flustered, but the stallholder thought he'd nearly got 
them, and hurried on to entice them some more. "Perhaps you'd prefer the 
version with a hole at the back as well. Would you like to see?" 

Without waiting for an answer, he replaced the pleasure box he'd been 
holding on top of a pile of similar ones, and picked up another from a 
different part of the stall. 

"Look," he said, turning the box round, and hoisting it up so that a hole 
with a gaping pussy close behind it was suddenly just inches from Luke's 
nose. 

Jed came to Luke's rescue. "I don't think we have a particular call for 
these at the moment, but we'll remember where to come." 

"Okay, okay," said the stallholder, realizing that for some strange reason 
the first gentleman was a little uncomfortable with this idea of mouths and 
pussies in black boxes. "But I have something different through here. 
Please, please step this way for one moment." 

Since it was in fact Luke's job to be investigating and exploring all facets 
of this planet's life and culture, he glanced at Jed and nodded to the 
stallholder. 

"Alright, but we're probably not hiring today." 

At the back of the stall were some similar boxes which seemed to be joined 
together in pairs, side by side. Also, the hole in each of them was quite a 
bit larger, although it still wasn't possible to see anything in the box's 
dark interior. 

"Can you guess what these are for," Jed asked Luke. "You might have seen 
something similar in that public seating area we passed a little while ago 
... no?" 

Luke shook his head, and the stallholder, ever enthusiastic, promptly 
demonstrated. Sitting down on a table top next to one pair of boxes resting 
at ground level, he tossed his sandals off and inserted each of his feet 
into one of the holes, right up to the ankles. 

"Mm, lovely," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. "Lovely foot massage. 
Best way to keep them clean, you know." 

Luke almost reeled at this further demonstration of female servitude. The 
thought of women cooped up in little boxes perhaps set up in some public 
place having to endlessly lick away at whatever dirty male feet were shoved 
into their faces, and keep licking all round and between the toes while the 
men sat and relaxed, out of sight above ... It was both horrible and erotic; 
he couldn't decide which was the stronger response. 

"What's the chance of having a word with one of the girls inside?" he asked, 
remembering his job. 

"No problem," said the stallholder, intercepting a look from Jed. "Hold on a 
minute I'll get the keys and see if I can open this one up." 

A few minutes later, he had succeeded, and the top of one of the foot 
massage boxes came open with a squeak. 

The girl within was so tightly packed in that she reminded Luke, bizarrely, 
of a raw turkey he had once tried to squeeze into a roasting pot which was 
slightly too small. 

She raised her head, squinting at the light, and tried to straighten up a 
little, but it was clear that her body was stiff and reluctant to move from 
the position it had become used to being in. 

"I um-I am yours, Masters. Do whatever you like with me," she managed 
haltingly, and experimented with moving an arm, so she could brush her long 
hair back from her eyes. 

"Kneel up properly," the stallholder instructed her. "This gentleman wants 
to ask you some questions." 

"Yes, Master," the pleasure box girl replied and straightened her back, 
revealing boobs much bigger than you could have imagined could possibly have 
been squashed beneath her folded body. 

Also revealed was the fact that her ankles were fixed together by severe, 
heavy leg irons presumably an aesthetic touch, as she was hardly going to go 
anywhere while locked into this tiny box. 

Luke was not so much taken aback by the boobs or shackles, however, as by 
something else which had become apparent when the box had been opened. The 
whole inside of it at least the inside of the lid and what could be seen of 
the walls was covered with two inch, tightly packed spikes made of what 
looked like stiff black rubber. Luke's ringer was drawn to feel the tip of 
one. It wasn't exactly sharp, but it was certainly bound to be extremely 
uncomfortable when pressed against soft, naked flesh. He swallowed hard, and 
addressed the kneeling girl. 

"Do these spikes press into you when the lid is closed?" he asked. 

"Yes, Sir," she replied, without emotion. 

"Does the bottom of the box have them too?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

"And do they hurt." 

"Well, yes, Sir." Luke paused. 

"So, are all pleasure boxes lined with spikes inside like this?" 

The girl glanced at the stallholder, obviously concerned that she might not 
know the right answer. "I think so, Sir. Or something like them." 

The stallholder nodded his agreement. "Although some have brushes or 
bristles instead." 

"Tell me," Luke addressed the girl again. "How do you feel about being a 
pleasure box girl? Do you like it?" 

"It's an honor to serve, Sir. A Hedonian woman is always pleased and 
honoured to be used as an object. It is a very fitting occupation." 

Carefully though he looked at her, Luke could see nothing in her face or 
eyes that seemed anything other than genuine. 

"Okay, one more question. How long have you been in this box?" 

The girl hesitated. "Oh, dear, Sir, I don't know exactly." She glanced again 
at the stallholder. "It feels like, say, eight or nine months?" 

"Months!" Luke exclaimed. "Eight or nine months in a box, licking men's feet 
clean?" 

At this point their host turned to Jed, getting concerned. "Is there a 
problem, here? I mean, they're kept fed and clean-I don't see what I've done 
wrong." 

"Don't worry," Jed reassured him. "It's just that my friend is from a planet 
where this sort of thing doesn't happen, and he's a bit shocked. But I'm 
sure this young lady has convinced him now that she's quite happy with what 
she's doing. Aren't you, dear." 

"Yes, Sir," the girl said, and it was true Luke was convinced. 

As they left the stall having watched the box get closed up again Luke found 
himself bothered, still, by the timescale revelation. Whether he was 
bothered on the girl's behalf, though, or by his own reaction to that 
timescale massive arousal was something he didn't dare consider too deeply! 

That evening, after a tour of the city and innumerable further examples of 
the very different roles of the sexes on Hedonia, Luke found himself back in 
the Palace, and again in the company of its most senior occupant. 

The President leaned forward in his seat. a 

"Well, you've seen a little of our way of life now. What's your opinion of 
it so far?" 

Luke thought carefully before answering, remembering that he was here in a 
professional and highly important capacity. 

"Well," he said. "It's much more extreme and varied than I'd expected. The 
outside world would hardly believe it, and reactions would be mixed, I'll 
tell you! It seems to me though, that the crucial issue is whether the women 
are doing these things voluntarily." 

"Have you not been convinced, yet, that they are?" the President asked. 

"Well," Luke replied. "It seems that way, certainly. But it is rather 
difficult to believe. What if and you understand I'm not making any 
accusations, just explaining how others will see it what if they're being 
coerced in some way, or brainwashed? The whole scenario needs an 
explanation." 

The President exchanged glances briefly with Jed before addressing Luke 
again. 

"It may be difficult for you to accept this, but I give you my personal word 
that we do not force our women to serve us as they do. We expect them to 
obey us, yes, but there is never any question that they won't. It's simply 
been in our culture probably in our genetics, too for as far back as our 
records go. It is completely natural for our women to behave in the manner 
you have been witnessing. They have evolved to be what you might call 
'user-friendly'. " 

"User-friendly," Luke repeated. "A term usually applied to computers, I 
believe." 

The President laughed. "What, you think our women are androids?" 

"I suppose it's possible, but no, I don't think that," said Luke. "Since 
I've seen no evidence to suggest they're not happy doing what they do, I'll 
take your word for it that it's genuinely a cultural thing. After all, there 
are some parallels in other countries I've studied them and it's conceivable 
that such a situation could've come about." Luke was simply thinking aloud 
now. "I suppose by serving you they benefit by having all their needs looked 
after." 

"Of course," Jed was nodding. "They're all well fed, and their duties aren't 
always strenuous. They never have to exert themselves mentally, or worry 
about any of the complex issues we men concern ourselves with. They're happy 
in their role you can stop any woman in the street and ask her. You've seen 
it already!" 

Luke could only agree, but still, catching sight of one of the female 
fittings in the room a woman curled in an inverted position on the 
sideboard, her upturned fanny holding a vase in which a beautiful bunch of 
flowers was arranged he wondered just how carefree and untroubled she felt. 

The President followed his gaze, and drew the right conclusion. 

"When a woman is serving as a fitting, or something similar," he explained, 
"she's given an injection which lowers her metabolism. But this is only to 
help her get through the long hours of inactivity, and is always given with 
her consent. We'll show you sometime how it's done. Women often refuse the 
injection because they prefer to have a mind clear to dwell on their 
servitude. It's purely optional, I assure you." 

Jed took over again, and it did cross Luke's mind that they were rather 
eager to convince him. But then a lot was at stake. They wanted to join the 
Council of United Planets and enjoy the financial benefits this could bring. 

"You know you're free to go wherever you like," Jed was saying, "and ask 
anyone including the women anything you like. But to help you experience 
things first hand and certainly, perhaps, to give you the opportunity to 
assure yourself that they're not androids we're giving you a couple of 
ladies to act as your personal servants. If you find two isn't enough, you 
can have more as many as you like and you can change them whenever you like. 
Test them in any way you can think of. We want to prove to you that 
everything we've said is true." Luke had to admit to himself that this 
suggestion sounded pretty interesting. 

"Perhaps you'd like to start tonight," Jed added. "Kitty and Pussy are 
waiting for you in your room." 

"Thank you," said Luke, keeping a straight face. "I'll look forward to, er, 
talking to them." 

* * * 

KITTY AND PUSSY 

And so it was that Luke found himself sitting on the edge of his bed and 
looking at Kitty and Pussy two of the most spectacular looking women, it 
seemed to him, that he had ever seen in his life kneeling on the floor in 
front of him. 

He was glad that he had foreseen a potential dilemma before this assignment 
and clarified it before leaving. 

"If this is a planet where sex is very freely available and I'm to be 
observing naked women for a month," he had ventured with his superior when 
the assignment was being discussed, "how am I to react to it personally?" 

His concern had been that, if he was offered personal pleasures and partook 
of them, and if subsequently his report led to an unfavorable decision with 
regard to future relations with Hedonia, his indulgence could be used 
against him. Intimate film, for example, could be broadcast by Hedonia to 
other planets, in a bid to expose a reaction against its culture as 
hypocrisy. 

He was pleased that his question had been taken seriously, and after much 
discussion and the involvement of several legal specialists, he had been 
informed that a decision had been taken to allow him to behave in a natural 
manner. 

"It's unreasonable, under the circumstances," his boss had said, "to expect 
otherwise. In any case, no-one would believe you had abstained." 

The documentation exchanged with the Hedonian authorities had therefore made 
clear and public that the observer's personal activities during his stay 
were not secret, restricted or relevant, and could therefore not be used 
against him or the Council of United Planets. 

All this meant that, when two naked, compliant women knelt at his feet and 
offered their bodies and their services to him, he didn't have to resist! He 
was free to make the most of the situation, and enjoy all the privileges and 
perks of this amazing assignment. 

Luke was in fact, even after what he had seen so far, experiencing a massive 
case of culture shock. This place was such a sexual Utopia, he was a little 
swept off his feet, and could tell he would have to indulge himself for a 
while and take the edge off the huge sexual appetite which had been induced 
in him before he actually started to do any work, like write reports. 

He put his thoughts aside and took a deep breath of anticipation. 

"Now," he addressed the two sex kittens gazing adoringly at him. "Which one 
of you shall I fuck first?" 

"Oh, me, Sir!" 

"Me, Sir, please!" 

"Now, now," he laughed. "Don't squabble. You shall both have the privilege." 

The girls positively purred, and rubbed up closer to him. Then they were 
whispering something, and giggling, and nodding. 

"Permission to suggest something, Sir," said Pussy. 

"Go on." 

"Well, if we were to get our pussies as close together as possible, perhaps 
you could, sort of, alternate. Almost as if you were fucking us together, 
Sir!" 

"Oh, please, Sir," Kitty added. "It would be such fun!" 

"Okay," said Luke, intrigued. "What do you suggest?" 

Giggling some more, Kitty crawled quickly onto the bed and lay down flat on 
her back, stretching out her legs. Pussy then lay down, also face up, 
exactly on top of her colleague! 

Thigh on thigh, they presented to him a delightful double-decker of 
womanhood, their two crotches just inches apart. Both girls played with 
Pussy's tits, keeping them moving and bouncing beautifully four little hands 
working away to squeeze and stroke and knead them most attractively. 

"I like it," said Luke, and climbed on board. 

It took a bit of effort and practice, moving up and down between pussies, 
but Luke soon mastered it, and found that he really enjoyed fucking two 
women together like this. 

"Pussy, Kitty, Pussy, Kitty," he muttered to himself as he moved up and down 
between the two juicy snatches. 

The girls pushed themselves together as much as they could, and twisted 
their hips, to minimize the distance between them. Driven crazy by the tit 
show continuing in front of him, and also by the thought of poor Kitty's 
tits, squashed below Pussy's and his own weight, he felt himself about to 
come. Unable to decide which cunt to finish in, he pulled out and spunked 
over both of them, rubbing his knob up and down over the two sticky, spunky 
slits with great pleasure. 

Fucking Kitty and Pussy together like this was to become Luke's specialty. 
He tried it in different ways, for example with both of them face down in a 
'double doggy', or facing each other, so his thrusting pushed their tits 
against each other. He became used to issuing the instruction, 
"Double-decker, please," which had the girls scurrying into position and 
pushing their slits as close together as possible. 

Also, once he'd been on Hedonia a little longer, he learned to tie them or 
have them tie themselves together, which stopped them slipping around or 
falling off each other. A tight strap round their waists and a few more 
joining their thighs and shoulders was the minimum to keep them nicely 
joined. 

He would even leave them like that sometimes, forcing them to sleep on top 
of each other all night, or to move around and perform their duties of 
service strapped tightly together. 

Once, he tied them back to back, with leg spreaders attached to their 
ankles, and ... Oh, but it would be impossible to describe all the 
delightful ways in which Luke experimented with his bondage playmates. No 
doubt the reader's imagination will come up with a few of them on its own! 

Kitty and Pussy were soon going virtually everywhere with Luke, and it was 
getting so that he couldn't imagine a time when they hadn't always been with 
him. 

If he strolled through a park they would crawl just behind him on all fours, 
held close by a leash of devotion, dropping to kiss the pavement he had 
walked on if he paused for even a moment. When he sat in a restaurant they 
were hugging his legs under the table. If space was tight they would squeeze 
themselves under his chair, or merely stand to attention close behind him, 
their tits resting on his shoulders. 

Wherever he turned, they were there, adoring faces beaming at him; personal 
servants and slaves obedient to his every whim, utterly committed to his 
happiness. 

They slept on each side of him, or sometimes at the foot of his bed or even 
underneath it, which they seemed to prefer. They were often in bondage 
during the night, and would beg him to chain them up tightly, or encase them 
in stiff rubber or leather suits, but he really preferred to leave them 
loose, because he liked to feel their arms wrapped around him, and liked the 
way they would slip down under the covers in the middle of the night and 
suck him off while he was still half asleep. 

He was frequently awakened by the delicious feel of their soft warm tongues 
lapping at his cock, or even by a dripping crotch being rubbed against him, 
hinting that it wanted to be used, not daring to go all the way until he was 
properly awake and signalled his permission with an approving sigh. 

After he had had his first delightful orgasm of the day, they would fuss 
around him, wrapping a warm robe about him as he left the comfort of the 
bed, carrying his slippers to him in their mouths, like obedient puppies, 
and offering him delicious drinks and breakfast snacks which they had 
sneaked out of bed to prepare for him earlier. 

Always touching him affectionately, always smiling, always naked and utterly 
beautiful to behold, they would accompany him to the bathroom, where they 
would hold his cock for him while he pissed, kneel at his feet while he sat 
on the toilet, and even wipe his bottom for him when he had finished. At 
first he had resisted this service, but once experienced the girls were very 
skilful and discrete had decided he might as well abandon himself to the 
extent of not even having to think about such a previously unpleasant and 
monotonous task. Being able to continue to read your newspaper while a 
beautiful servant girl wiped your ass was true luxury. 

Next his pets would help him into a warm, fragrant bath, and, half climbing 
in with him if necessary, wash every part of him with soft sponges and even 
softer hands. Sometimes they would use their tits to soap his arms or his 
back; sometimes even their buttocks. This morning, for example, Kitty sat in 
the bath behind him, encouraging him to lean back onto her tits and 
massaging his neck with her hands, while Pussy lathered her buttocks with 
soap suds, then got down on all fours between his legs and pushed her behind 
up against his chest, doing a little dance to wash every inch between his 
neck and his waist with her expertly rotating, fleshy buttocks. 

This was the life! It was heaven. It was ecstasy. 

Luke began not to dare even think about the fact that he would soon have to 
leave it. 

After the bath they dried him together, then dressed him, giggling when he 
reached out to squeeze their breasts or buttocks they had left him with 
nothing to do except admire and play with them as they served him and 
blushing prettily when he felt them between the legs. Sometimes he would 
fuck one of them again at this point, but he had learned to be patient. Life 
in Hedonia was so erotic that there was bound to be some new experience for 
him to enjoy each day, and he would try to save himself at least for a 
little later in the morning. 

On this particular morning he was in fact in for yet another surprise. 
Strolling down to the main lounge with Pussy and Kitty both still gloriously 
naked hanging on his arms and rubbing themselves up against him whenever he 
stopped to look at one of the female fittings, he found himself in the 
presence of the President, all smiles and charm as usual. 

"Ah, Luke, how are you?" He said, turning from the window by which he was 
standing. "I hear you've been enjoying yourself on your visit so far; I'm so 
glad." 

Luke nodded an acknowledgment but was a little too stunned to speak. The 
President was well, I suppose you'd have to say wearing something a little 
unusual. 

He was wearing a woman. 

She was small and naked and strapped upside down to his front. Her buttocks 
formed a little platform just below his chin, her legs disappeared somewhere 
under his arms and round his back, while her arms were pulled up behind him 
and strapped across the back of his waist. Her head was positioned bang slap 
in the middle of the President's crotch, and it was clear from how closely 
the fuzzy blonde head was pressed against his body, that his penis was in 
her mouth. 

The President paced across the room towards Luke. Beneath the woman, he wore 
elegant clothes, and it was obvious her slight weight did not inconvenience 
him. She was strapped very closely to him, but with soft cords, and he 
looked relaxed and comfortable, as if he was quite used to carrying a girl 
around with him in this way. 

"I see you've noticed my Portable Pleasure Unit," said the President. "You 
must try one, they're very useful. Means you can get a nice sucking, any 
time you want, and the rest of the time a warm, cozy mouth for your floppy 
friend to rest in." 

Luke couldn't resist a closer look. There was no doubt that the girl 
couldn't move her head away from the President's cock. It had to be kept in 
her mouth permanently. It was also obvious that despite the bondage, she had 
to cling on to him with her arms and legs to stay in the right position. 
like a baby monkey, only upside down, she would be carried around with him 
wherever he went. Nothing to do but hold on tight and suck cock. Nothing to 
see or smell but hairy balls. 

"It's quite fun to have this pussy just under your nose whiff of woman all 
day! And look," the President demonstrated, "you can dip in a finger or two 
occasionally and stir it round to make it juicy." 

Luke was very intrigued and absolutely resolved to try a Portable Pleasure 
Unit in the very near future. 

"How do you get her to start sucking?" he asked. 

"Well, just tell her, or spank or pinch her ass, like this." 

"And how long can you wear one for?" 

"About twelve hours. They're not given anything to drink for a day before, 
so there's no chance of any nasty accidents." 

Luke looked and looked, as the President twisted and turned a little to 
display his garment from all angles. 

"I'm surprised you haven't seen any yet. Everyone's wearing them; they're 
all the fashion this year. You can get them dyed different colors, or 
painted with patterns, to match what you're wearing. Some people even wear 
them in bed, although I find it a little uncomfortable, especially when I 
lie on my front." 

Luke gasped at the thought of a slight little woman like this lying, unable 
to move, below a man the size of the President all night, with his weight 
squeezing her tits, her limbs stretched uncomfortably round him, and his 
limp willy perpetually in her mouth. 

But one thing was confusing him. He hardly dare ask, but was prompted by 
curiosity. 

"But what happens when you-I mean, when you have to use the toilet 
yourself?" 

"Why, that's one of the advantages," said the President. "You don't have 
to." 

Luke took this in. "You mean " 

"Yes, she swallows your piss. Must be difficult upside down, I always think, 
but they seem to manage it." 

"But they're not allowed to go themselves, so they have to, well, keep it 
all inside them?" 

"Mm. Dear boy, it's quite normal for women to act as our toilets, here. 
Haven't you been using your two pets for that purpose? They really should 
have offered you the service." The President glanced down at Pussy and 
Kitty, who were groveling at Luke's feet. "You're to whip each other for two 
hours non stop when Luke can next spare you, do you hear? And commit to 
doing extra toilet duties for the rest of your lives!" 

"Yes, Mr. President," they replied in unison, cowering a little. 

Luke imagined them, ten years from now, when he was long gone, drinking 
gallons of piss every day, just because they'd forgotten to offer him a 
complete toilet service! 

"Anyway, my friend, I have a meeting to address this morning, so I'd better 
be on my way. Have a nice day, and remember to let me know if you need 
anything." 

Luke shook the President's offered hand, and watched as he took a big coat 
from a live coat stand and pulled it on, covering up the woman completely, 
and doing up the buttons. With a big bulge sticking out in front of him, he 
might have looked comical, if the thought of what that bulge was doing 
wasn't so erotic! 

Luke watched him go, thinking about the President's day from the woman's 
perspective. The taxi, the conference, the lunch, the next meeting, the 
evening meal, the bedtime porn video, the night, maybe. 

All that time with a face full of balls and mouthful of cock! And nothing to 
eat or drink but spunk and piss! 

Kitty and Pussy hardly had time to get their mouths in position before he 
shot his load at the very wonderfully disgusting thought of it! 

PUSSYLAND 

The days passed, and Luke did little but explore his surroundings and enjoy 
himself. He had to keep reminding himself that this was genuinely work! 

Jed showed him many amazing things. Here is just one of many examples of 
what he saw and learnt on Hedonia. 

After one particularly beautiful Hedonian day had dawned, and over a 
breakfast of cured meat and exotic fruit slices, presented 'a la pubes', 
that is, served in a transparent bowl moulded to protrude from an upturned, 
shaven snatch the rest of its owner's body tucked away neatly in a tight 
rubber bondage bag Jed made a suggestion. 

"I thought we might go over to the nearest branch of Pussy land." 

"Sounds interesting," said Luke. "What is it?" 

Jed explained that Pussylands were state run amusement parks, of which there 
were several in each city. 

"I'd say it was equivalent to a funfair in your culture but with a sexual 
theme." 

Luke dwelt for a few moments on the images that the idea of a sexual funfair 
conjured up in his mind. They fell far short of the reality, however, as he 
was to discover when Jed led him through the entrance of the real thing a 
little later that morning. 

(Kitty and Pussy, incidentally, happened to have spent the previous night in 
a particularly intricate form of bondage involving multiple leg spreaders, 
dual-pronged metal dildos, and studded breast squeezers, and so, as Luke 
found that he couldn't be bothered to free them, they got left behind, and 
spent the day struggling and suffering instead of worshipping and getting 
fucked, which was at least a change.) 

The entrance to Pussyland was remarkable in itself. An archway or rather a 
tunnel of widely spread female legs provided an enticing welcome. Visitors 
gazed upwards at the ceiling of gaping pussies, and some could be seen 
counting them. There were in fact twenty pussies at the apex of the vault. 
Twenty women aligned closely, one behind the other, legs stretched and 
pulled open as wide as they would go, upper bodies out of sight from below. 
In fact the delights of these twenty ladies from the waist up formed part of 
one of the attractions of the park and could be viewed from a walkway 
alongside the perspex tunnel in which they were encased. Suspended by their 
wrists and with huge weights dangling from each of their nipples, they hung 
in a row for twelve hours at a time, groaning and moaning behind the 
soundproofed perspex, too distracted by pain to appreciate the wonder of the 
architectural spectacle their legs and fannies were making below. 

Once through the entrance, the visitor was greeted by two columns of half 
naked women attired in various erotic and revealing costumes-dropping to the 
floor and worshipping his feet in the common manner. 

"Welcome to Pussyland," they chorused. "Have a nice day." 

Here, a woman offered them a free visitors' guide, from a huge plastic 
dispenser she struggled to hold in her teeth. There, another urged on them 
liquid refreshment amazingly, direct from her stupendous, milk engorged 
tits! 

"Haven't you come across milk maids yet?" Jed asked, when he saw Luke 
goggling at the idea. "You quite often see them wandering round in public 
places quite useful just to be able to grab a tit and have a drink, if 
you're parched. I sometimes take one with me on long trips-and they're 
excellent for picnics. A friend of mine has one installed in his office, 
next to the coffee machine. Offers her round at business lunches, that sort 
of thing." 

"I've got to try it," said Luke, and lifted one of the heavy mounds to his 
lips. The milk was warm and sweet, and the nipple huge and delicious. "Thank 
you," he said to the milk maid, and watched entranced as she moved on to 
another batch of visitors and began offering her jugs of milk round for more 
men to gulp from. They moved on. 

Under a sign which read "Tour Pussyland in comfort", stood a row of naked 
women chained together in pairs, their linked arms supporting a cushioned 
seat in which the visitor was obviously meant to be transported. Luke 
watched as one visitor approached the foremost pair. The girls smiled and 
said something submissive and welcoming, then dropped to their knees to 
allow the man to sit down easily in this mobile, human chair. Their large 
breasts, facing towards him as they did, formed perfect armrests, and he 
settled down smiling, his back and ass comfortably supported, and his arms 
resting easily on four great hummocks of flesh. 

Then the women stood, hardly showing any sign of strain, although the man 
was heavy and they very slight by comparison, and trotted off in perfect 
unison to show the visitor the highlights of the park. 

Luke started to leaf through the guidebook but was distracted by the wealth 
of erotic images both in its pages and all around him. Once again Jed came 
to his rescue. 

"Perhaps if I show you a few things, and then leave you to wander round on 
your own and explore?" 

Luke nodded gratefully and followed Jed who headed for a large domed 
building bearing the legend 'Pussymania'. Before they reached it, however, 
Luke was distracted by a crowd which had gathered around some sort of 
side-show. 

"What's happening over there?" Luke asked. 

"Looks like an Auto-Punishment Show they're always popular." 

"Can we see?" 

"Of course." 

They managed to push through to the front of the crowd, and this is what was 
revealed. 

A complicated mechanized apparatus was set up around a small area perhaps 
six foot square the floor of which was made up of hundreds of little spikes; 
something like a bed of nails, only the 'nails' were a little thicker and a 
little blunter. Lying on this floor was a completely naked pale-skinned 
woman of the most voluptuous proportions imaginable. Her arms were strapped 
tightly together behind her back, at the wrists and at the elbows, and one 
ankle was shackled to a long chain attached to a ring just outside the six 
foot area. Otherwise, she was unrestrained. 

As Luke watched, intrigued as to what was going on, she raised her head from 
the torturous floor and shook it, blinking rapidly as if struggling to 
regain her senses. He saw that her mouth was gagged by a huge black ball 
held in place by a strap which disappeared into her spectacular head of 
frizzy blonde hair. 

Slowly, she struggled to her knees, a difficult feat with her arms 
restricted as they were, and eventually managed to stand up, although she 
seemed very tottering and unsteady. Only now did Luke register what the 
attachments to the apparatus were. Arranged in several places around the 
central area, and at different heights and angles, were what appeared to be 
boxing gloves on spring loaded metallic arms. Surely it couldn't mean 
that.... 

But as Luke watched, what he suspected might happen happened so suddenly 
that it made him jump. One of the boxing gloves sprang forward automatically 
and caught the woman on her shoulder. With a grunt audible despite the gag, 
she staggered and half fell to the floor. A moment later, a second glove 
punched up from a lower angle, this time chancing to hit one of her boobs. 
She fell back onto the spiky floor, and the crowd voiced its approval of her 
predicament. 

Still not quite taking the spectacle in, Luke watched as the bound woman 
again staggered to her feet, and deliberately positioned herself so that her 
face was just inches away from one of the boxing gloves! The crowd grew 
tense in anticipation, but this time something different happened. From 
somewhere a rod swung round at ankle level, neatly tripping the woman over. 
She fell more heavily this time face and tits down onto the mat and the men 
in the crowd roared with laughter. 

Almost immediately, the human punch bag was struggling to her knees again, 
only to be forced down onto the spikes once more, this time by a sequence of 
lashes from a mechanized whip. 

Watching the set up for a while, it was clear that the apparatus was 
operating automatically, dealing out a variety of randomly timed blows, none 
of which the woman had any chance of escaping. It was the ever-changing 
pattern of punishment, and the exact way in which the woman was pummeled and 
thrown about the area that kept the crowd captivated and amused. There was 
certainly a kind of humor in watching the way she was unexpectedly toppled 
over, time and time again like a clown and the way her big tits in 
particular got squashed and bounced around in the process. 

Luke turned to Jed, who was standing watching with his arms crossed. "This 
is amazing! What makes her keep getting up." 

"Simple," Jed replied. "She's been told to." 

"Programmed to, you mean?" 

"Well, no. Just told to keep presenting herself for punishment, because it 
pleases us." Luke said nothing. 

"You forget," Jed continued, "that our women want to suffer. She probably 
requested it as a special duty. There are waiting lists for this sort of 
thing, you know!" 

Luke watched the side-show for a little longer. He didn't necessarily 
disbelieve Jed's explanation. After all, he'd witnessed the women of 
Hedonia's apparent enthusiasm to serve and suffer over and over again. And 
certainly this woman didn't seem unduly distressed at getting mechanically 
beaten up in this way rather, there was a calmness and resignation about 
her. 

He couldn't help noticing, though, that when she was lying on the spikes, 
there sometimes seemed to be a particular moment when she suddenly jerked 
into action, after appearing half unconscious. 

It couldn't be that the floor was giving her an electric shock if she lay on 
it too long could it? 

Luke kept this thought to himself and gave Jed a deliberately untroubled 
smile. 

"Shall we go on?" 

There was one more distraction before they reached their chosen destination, 
however. 

A little electric cart whizzed up to them on which a woman was very 
obviously positioned upside down her back strapped down to a sloping 
surface, but her legs very much up in the air and open in a wide V. They 
were held in position by straps pulling sideways at her thighs, and chains 
running from her ankles to her waist, to ensure they were kept nice and 
straight. 

"Ice-cream, ice-cream," she announced to Luke's surprise. He saw that her 
upturned face was smiling at them. "Complementary ice cream, Gentlemen?' 

Here a young lad hurried up to the trolley and slightly rudely butted in 
with his own request. 

"I'll have one. What flavors have you got?" 

"Peach, coconut or melon, Sir." 

"Can I have some of each?" 

"Of course, Sir." 

Now the woman, whose arms were free, reached for an ice-cream scoop and 
opening some compartments at one end of the trolley, proceeded to produce 
for her young customer a triple ice-cream cone. It was amazing to see how 
deftly she managed it, considering that she had to work upside down and 
backwards, as it were. 

It was also amazing to see how her huge breasts, resting like massive 
jellies on her chest, and tipping slightly towards her face because of her 
angled position, shook and wobbled as her arms worked away, and seemed to 
get in her way a permanent obstacle she had to work around. 

The ice-cream was ready, and its vendor now demonstrated the reason for her 
inverted position and elaborate bondage. Reaching over the obtrusive 
breasts, she inserted the ice-cream into a cone shaped receptacle protruding 
from her fanny. As she did so, Luke noticed that this ice-cream holder was 
one of two an identical one was fixed inside the smaller of her two holes, 
so she could in fact serve two ice-cream cones at the same time. 

The lad took his cone from her pussy and walked off without a word, and the 
girl asked them again if she could serve them. When they declined, she 
chirped a "Have a nice day," and activating some controls on the side of the 
trolley, whizzed away, legs waving, tits juddering and eyes carefully 
scanning her upside down world for more customers to please. 

And so, eventually, they reached the entrance to Pussymania, which turned 
out to be an experience Luke would never forget, and vowed immediately to 
visit again. 

Pussymania was an elaborate ride set up within a huge purpose-built 
building. Clambering into an open carriage on rails and grabbing hold of the 
safety bar which was lowered over their legs, Luke and Jed were whisked away 
through some automatic doors into another world. 

It was a funfair ride, undoubtedly, but contained every variety of the same 
that Luke had ever come across. At first it was a 'dark ride', the carriage 
passing sedately through a series of tableaux, all featuring live, largely 
naked women. First a sultan's harem with belly-dancers and veiled 
slavegirls; next a classroom of rather grown up 'schoolgirls' in very short 
skirts, watching with trembling lips as one of their number received a 
caning over the prim schoolmistress's desk. Then a half naked female rock 
band pranced around on a laser-lit stage, huge tits bouncing wildly, hips 
grinding at guitars, and hair tossing to the musical frenzy. Now the tracks 
entered the quiet hall of an art gallery, where every exhibit was explicit 
and shocking, and many comprised of or included naked women, presented in a 
fantastic range of expressive poses and designs. Luke's eyes popped at the 
sprawling live sculpture of six beauties entwined in an erotic 'still life', 
but found themselves also appreciating the artistic effect of three women 
set into a large, modern art canvas, their skin covered with thick paint in 
glorious colors. 

Next, the well-spaced carriages wound their way through a convoluted display 
of female flesh within fondling distance. Right beneath open legs, tits 
hanging so close they flapped against your face. Hands caressed your hair 
and slipped down your shirt as you passed. Groans and moans accompanied the 
attention. In proper user-friendly fashion the exhibits even here within 
this exotic world within a world within a world made it clear with every 
look and gesture that they worshipped and wanted you. 

An element of 'ghost train' was added as the carriage was accelerated into 
vistas of tits that only parted at the last minute, or was jerked around to 
suddenly present you with a female form in mercilessly cruel bondage, who 
screamed chillingly and unexpectedly as the passing of the carriage 
triggered the use of an automated birch on her much damaged behind. A whole 
'torture chamber' followed a collection of naked bodies on racks and wheels 
and all manner of devices so striking and erotic that Luke at one point had 
to close his eyes, the stimulation was just too much. 

Now the carriages rose up high, enabling the occupants to look down on a 
spectacular array of naked dancers, forming beautiful, symmetrical, every 
changing patterns which could only be appreciated from above. The dance 
spectacular theme was maintained as the carriages passed along a long row of 
can-can dancers, affording a perfect view of stretching, moving pussies, 
such as no man back on Luke's planet would ever have the privilege to 
witness. 

For the grand finale of the ride, two women actually climbed onto the 
carriage and draped themselves over the occupants' legs, giving them 

E something to squeeze and fondle as they watched banks of cleverly placed 
mirrors turn dozens of provocatively dressed or naked women making 
passionate love to each other into thousands. 

When the hour long ride was over, the men were helped from their carriage 
and shown into a special recovery lounge, such was the acknowledged effect 
of all this escapism and stimulation. Luke and Jed sipped drinks, discussing 
what they had seen, and were offered a 'relief menu' which Luke soon 
realized from items such as 'express massage', 'under-table service' and 
'flagellation special' had nothing to do with food! 

"Would you like to, er, choose anything?" Jed asked, aware that Luke still 
had some sensitivities when it came to personal relief in public places. 

But Luke was too worked up to have any inhibitions. "Yes," he said. "What do 
you recommend?" 

Jed perused the menu. "I'll tell you what. They have a special little bar 
area here which is quite interesting and discrete. I think you'll enjoy it." 

Luke shrugged an okay. Whatever it was, he was sure that he wouldn't be 
disappointed. 

Jed had a quick word with one of the staff members, then led the way through 
into another room, which was a small bar with a counter along two sides of 
it. Luke looked around expectantly, searching for women, but could see 
no-one but a male bar tender, who responded to Jed's request for more drinks 
with a friendly nod. 

Luke noticed that Jed was grinning at him in a way he'd come to recognise. 
"Have I missed something?" he asked. 

Jed smiled some more. "Remember the pleasure boxes?" 

It was another moment before Luke worked things out and looked down from the 
surface of the counter to crotch level. Sure enough, set into the vertical 
surface, and spaced about two feet apart, were discrete holes, behind which 
glistening pussies gaped, waiting to be put to use. Luke leaned over the 
counter to the barman's side, but there was nothing to be seen. The women 
inside the bar had to be bent completely double and pushed flat against each 
surface, their legs straight, their heads down at their ankles no doubt well 
gagged and completely immobilized so they couldn't make a noise or move 
about. 

The barman caught his eye and read his mind. "There's just one at this end 
where we use this side of her too." He indicated a hole in the far end of 
the counter through which an open mouth could just be seen. 

With no further ado, Luke unzipped himself, and selecting a spot along the 
counter, perched on the edge of a stool and slipped his ultra-stiff prick 
through the hole and into the hot pussy provided for the purpose. He 
couldn't suppress a loud sigh of pleasure. 

"I like it in here," Jed said, doing the same, "because you can just sit and 
sip drinks and chat for ages, all the time just resting your cock in the 
conveniently provided cunt. I think more places should have this facility." 

But try as he might to prolong his enjoyment, Luke was just too aroused to 
last, and shot into the anonymous depths buried beneath the counter after 
just a couple of fierce strokes. He did stay inside for a while, though, as 
he downed a beer and watched Jed achieve a more controlled, dignified 
climax. 

"I suppose spikes feature in this form of bondage as well?" Luke ventured, 
remembering what had been exposed when the pleasure box at the market had 
been opened. 

"Who knows," said Jed. "Have you seen what it's like under here?" he asked 
the barman. 

"Well, it only gets opened every few months. The girls are snapped into 
these rubber moulds yeah, I think they are all rough and lumpy on the inside 
and there's all feeding and waste tubes everywhere not very erotic, really, 
but the customers don't see any of that." 

"So how long are they kept like this, then?" Luke asked, wondering if he'd 
misheard the bit about months. 

"Oh, permanently, I should think," said the barman. "Well, I've been here 
six years and they haven't been changed during that time, as far as I know." 

Jed gave a little laugh and, saying that there was still a lot to see, 
ushered Luke out of the bar and out of Pussymania, leaving him perplexed as 
to whether or not the barman had been joking about the bar pussies being 
genuinely permanent fixtures. He resolved to come back alone one day and ask 
a few more questions, but it was a resolution which was to somehow slip his 
mind. 

"So what's next?" Luke asked Jed, as they stepped out into the sunshine once 
more, refreshed from their drinks and their fuck. 

"Well," Jed replied. "The freak shows are popular attractions." 

Luke made a face. "I'm not sure," he said. "I wouldn't want to see anything 
too unpleasant." 

"You needn't worry, there's nothing too extreme. And anyway, you can miss 
anything you don't like the sound of." 

So they strolled along to a large pavilion and found themselves traversing a 
broad corridor along each side of which were a number of rooms or large 
booths. Their contents were shielded from view by a tall screen one had to 
step behind. Luke could hear murmurs of appreciation and occasional 
outbursts of applause from the openings through which the male spectators 
wandered. 

"Shall we start here?" Jed suggested, and Luke looked up at the sign which 
read 'Vibrating Fat Lady; Watch Her Blubber Bounce!' 

Slightly embarrassed, Luke nodded and followed Jed and a few others into the 
viewing area of the booth. 

Now Luke thought he'd seen fat women, but nothing had prepared him for the 
sheer scale of the individual who sat naked before them smiling. She was 
sitting on something, but you couldn't see what. Her gigantic bottom hung 
over the sides of her seat, the structure of which was hidden by her 
elephantine thighs and lower legs. A massive stomach rested on her lap, and 
stupendous tits drooped down on top of her belly. 

She was unbelievable. If Luke had been describing her to someone, he would 
have said, 'Imagine the fattest woman you've ever seen then double it!' n 

All this Luke took in immediately. It was only after a few seconds that he 
realized that the fat lady's seat was rotating slowly, presenting her 
phenomenal body to the spectators at constantly changing angles. 

"I don't know which is more impressive the front or the back!" said Jed, as 
her impossibly wide bottom came into view. Luke didn't know what to say. He 
couldn't deny that he found the woman immensely erotic and appealing. He 
imagined her lying on a bed and himself climbing on top of her wow! It 
occurred to him that it could probably be arranged, but he restrained 
himself from making the request. Somehow, having a big woman seemed more 
gluttonous and licentious that 'just' having a slim one. 

Then, to Luke's surprise, the woman spoke to them. 

"Turn that dial, Gentlemen, and see what happens." 

One of the other spectators stepped forward to the knob indicated, and 
turned it. Immediately the woman's huge tits and belly and butt began to 
shake as a motor caused the seat to vibrate beneath her. The effect was 
breathtaking. The blubber certainly did bounce, and jiggle and ripple and 
wobble, in great waves! Even her triple chins vibrated wildly. 

The spectator turned the knob some more, and amazingly, the strength and 
frequency of the vibrations increased, until the exhibit was being jerked 
and shaken about so much, it seemed she would surely be thrown from the 
stool. She split her legs a little though her pussy was still hidden behind 
the folds of flesh of her thighs and tummy and held her breasts up with 
chubby hands. She continued to rotate presenting her huge juddering ass for 
variety and seemed quite happy to be sitting on her stool all day, turning 
and shaking, and exhibiting her bulk to passers by. 

"It's feeding time soon," she said to them with some difficulty, as her lips 
and cheeks were shaking so much. "Stay and see me stuff myself with roast 
chicken and cream cakes!" 

The thought of her feeding her face while naked on the vibrating stool was 
too much for Luke, though. Despite his recent relief, a huge erection had 
sprung up on sight of those huge wobbling tits, and was getting 
uncomfortable. He noticed as they left the booth that Jed turned the 
vibration dial up to maximum, leaving the fat lady to bounce and wobble her 
time away, licking her lips at the thought of the huge quantities of food 
that would soon be forced into her mouth from a spout just above her head, 
and just a little worried about the spectators getting splashed with 
chocolate sauce, if the vibration remained this severe while the spout 
attempted to pour gallons of the stuff straight down her throat, as it had 
yesterday. 

Returning once more to the central area, the first sign that caught Luke's 
eye was one which said 'Step Inside and Be Amazed! The Largest Tits in the 
Universe!' 

"I thought we'd just seen those!" Luke remarked, but Jed shook his head. 

"I think you'll find this is something different. A bit of genetic 
engineering involved, I'd say." 

With eyebrows raised and full of curiosity, Luke stepped behind the screen. 
A few seconds later, he was reflecting that erotic shocks were becoming so 
frequent, they were getting tiresome. He would have to get more used to the 
extreme. 

Now there are big tits, and very big tits, and huge tits. There are tits in 
cartoon drawings which look impossible, and tits in the fantasies of big tit 
fanatics, which part crowds or droop to the floor. Then there were these 
tits. 

Imagine two spheres about six feet yes, six feet in diameter resting on the 
floor. Then imaging a slim, five foot woman standing next to them. This 
woman can't walk (without the assistance of a huge mobile crane mechanism, 
or two massive trolleys on wheels), can't see anything in front of her but a 
climbing wall of soft flesh, can't lie on her back without being crushed and 
suffocated by the weight of her own tits, and can't ever touch or even see 
her own nipples. 

She moves around the area of the booth in which, incidentally, she lives, 
permanently by straining hard to drag her freak breasts around the floor. 
She displays herself to the watching visitors by pushing herself against a 
wall and squashing her lithe body against her super-tits in rapturous 
writhing, or by jumping up and down and waving to her audience over the top 
of her cleavage. 

Sometimes she is assisted by two 'tit maidens' slight, normally proportioned 
females who help her to move around, or massage oils into the massive mounds 
so that they slide a little more easily over the smooth floor. This is in 
fact what was happening when Luke and Jed entered the exhibit. 

The owner of the tits was herself out of sight, while the tit maidens were 
clambering over the phenomenal objects, using their bodies to massage them 
'til they were sleek and shiny. One of the little assistants had actually 
jumped up on top of the right hand flesh mountain and now lay sprawled out 
on it, tummy down, and hands kneading the soft flesh. 

Luke imagined trying to describe the scene to his colleagues back home. 

"No, the tits are literally resting on the floor, and these other two girls 
actually run round them and help move them round, like big blown up 
cushions, grabbing the huge nipples with both hands to hoist them around, 
and sometimes they both get in the cleft between them, so they're actually 
hidden from sight, squashed between massive walls of tit flesh until they 
climb out from the cleavage, and the whole point of it is the contrast 
between the small, normal sized women, and these absolutely massive things 
which must be so heavy and mean the woman who owns them is absolutely 
trapped by her own tits, she's just this little thing attached to the side 
of them, and her life is completely dominated by having these amazing things 
that thousands and thousands of men come to gawp at, and then while we were 
watching the two tit maidens got down on all fours and burrowed their way 
under each tit, and then strained and groaned 'til they'd lifted them up on 
their backs, so then the woman could at least take a few steps around the 
room with her helpers crawling along on all fours in front of her, 
supporting the weight of her massive tits on their backs and bums.' 

Even Jed seemed fascinated by this particular freak exhibit, although he had 
obviously seen it before. 

"Wait 'til you see what they do to her in a minute," he whispered to Luke, 
who kept watching avidly, and was soon surprised to see the assistants 
attach some chains and cables to the woman's ankles, and then leave the 
room. 

Suddenly, the slack on the cables was taken up from above, and the woman's 
feet were pulled back from under her and hoisted up into the air. She fell 
forward onto her tits which rolled round so that the nipples rested on the 
floor and their owner lay comfortably on top of the huge, squashed mounds, 
squirming round like a sea lion trying to balance on top of a huge ball. 

"I think she sleeps like this," Jed muttered, but she certainly wasn't going 
to sleep right now. Her legs were suddenly pulled up much higher so she was 
stretched out upside down above her tits, and then the tension on the cables 
started to vary, so that she was bounced up and down on part of her own 
body, which served as a trampoline. 

As if the image hadn't got shocking and kinky enough, the tit maidens then 
reappeared with whips and began to lay into the pulsating, squashed gourds 
on which the inverted figure bounced. 

When the screaming began, Luke again decided it was time to move on. He 
didn't want to spend the rest of the day with a wet patch in his trousers! 

In fact, he was so obviously overcome that Jed suggested they split up, 
enabling him to take things at his own pace, and so Luke found himself 
wandering alone through the funfair attractions, fascinated by what he was 
seeing around him, trying to control his zip-splitting excitement, and 
having absolutely the time of his life! 

Of the many things he saw that day, one in particular featured in his 
fantasies for some time to come. 

As he explored Pussyland, he found, in one place, a long stall at which 
several men were throwing heavy balls at something, and intermittently 
cheering or groaning. Surely they weren't throwing these balls at women, he 
thought? He peeped round the corner, ready for anything. In fact they 
weren't although later, he did see a stall where objects were aimed at a row 
of naked bottoms, with the objective of tipping a woman forwards so her head 
got dunked in a pail of mud; great fun! In this case however, the balls were 
actually being thrown at coconuts on shelves, just like in a funfair back 
home. The difference, though, was that beside each set of coconuts, a woman 
stood, tied up on a special bondage station. There were six women in all, 
Luke noticed, each perched on extraordinarily high heels, ankles shackled 
together and to the floor, and arms stretched up above the head and fixed 
securely to a hook in the surface against which they stood. The women's 
mouths were gagged severely, and a stiff collar held their heads up, and 
still. 

While each woman's tits and pussy were exposed, she was far from naked. Her 
waist was encompassed by a broad, heavy duty corset, black and shiny, and 
reinforced by what looked like metal bars. But these weren't ordinary 
corsets. They were clearly connected to some mechanism in the wall behind, 
and there was also a connection to the shelves bearing coconuts. 

Suddenly, an automated voice sounded from within the stall; a male voice. 

"Roll up, roll up! Welcome to Corsets 'n' Coconuts, the favorite attraction 
of those who believe a lady's waist should be nice and small and I mean 
small! Try your luck with three balls. Every coconut dislodged directly 
activates the corset mechanism a quarter of an inch. Watch the inch monitor 
on the wall behind each subject. Waists start at 22 inches each morning, and 
by evening well, there's no limit! So knock those coconuts down, boys, and 
watch those waists get smaller and smaller!" 

A character standing beside Luke turned to him with a smile. "Fancy a go?" 

Luke, uncertain but not wanting to be rude, shrugged his shoulders. "Why 
not?" 

They each picked up three little balls, and wandered down the length of the 
stall. 

"This one's the smallest," said Luke's new-found colleague, indicating the 
dial which stood at 17 inches. 

"How low do they go?" Luke asked him, his eyes drawn to the woman's 
constricted waist, which already seemed tiny, especially compared to her 
bulging tits and broad hips. 

"Oh, I've seen a twelve." 

"Twelve inches? It can't be possible!" 

"Well, it's all mechanical, isn't it. If the machine keeps on squashing and 
squeezing, the waist just has to get squashed and squeezed!" 

Luke fingered his balls not the ones he most felt like fingering! 

"Shall we have a go at this one, then?" he asked. 

"Sure. After you." 

Dragging his eyes from the hourglass figure of the woman, he sized up the 
coconut challenge and took careful aim. The first ball missed completely. So 
did the second. 

"See, it's not so easy," said his companion, mournfully. 

Luke tried again, and more by luck than judgment toppled a coconut out of 
its seat. 

"Well done!" 

There was a loud whirr and a click as the mechanism controlling the woman's 
waist size went into action. You could just see the corset go one notch 
tighter. Just see how the woman flinched and drew in breath a little as her 
suffering was increased. 

A quarter of an inch didn't sound like much, but once the waist was already 
being crushed to such small proportions, and all that was in the woman's 
mind was the urgent need to be released from the awful pressure, or for it 
to at least lessen, each tiny additional constriction was panic-inducing and 
intolerable. 

All day these women would stand here, entirely at the mercy of the machines 
clamped around their middles, and with nothing to think about but their 
discomfort, and nothing to look at but the men sizing up their measurements 
and doing their lustful best to make them even more impressive. As the hours 
dragged by and their waists got smaller, they would begin to fear more and 
more that someone would be particularly successful, and that their 
proportions would reach impossible levels. Struggling for breath, they would 
continue to stand in immobile panic, until at last late at night the park 
would close, and they would be released for a few hours respite at a more 
tolerable 22 inches. The apparatus which held them in bondage tipped back 
ninety degrees for the night, and there they all slept, still tied in 
exactly the same way, still prisoners of the dreadful metallic waist 
crushers, only waiting for the following day, when the dreadful constriction 
of their bodies would begin all over again! 

* * * 

SMUGGLERS 

Now, while Luke was exploring the delights of Hedonia, what of the spaceship 
which had brought him here, and to which the reader has since given no 
thought whatsoever? Well, it was now millions of light years away, a tiny 
speck of electronics in the interstellar void, but during the three days it 
had been in dock at Hedonia's spaceport, a little drama had been enacted 
which only two men and a few women, it has to be said knew about. 

One of these men was a Hedonian called Neville. Now Hedonia had its criminal 
underworld just like anywhere else, and suffice it to say that Neville was 
part of it a substantial part. A little thievery here, a little swindling 
there nothing was beyond him, or below him but his conniving mind had worked 
out some time ago what Hedonia's most profitable resource was, and for that 
reason visits from starships were of particular interest to him. 

On the very same day that Luke disembarked, Neville was hanging around the 
space port, clutching the papers which would shortly allow him access to the 
service areas, and chatting to the gaggle of other suppliers and traders who 
had business with the ship. 

Now just because Hedonia didn't have a major trading relationship with other 
planets didn't mean that it denied spaceships hospitality, or refused to 
service or supply them. On a small scale therefore, a lot of business would 
be transacted while the ship was here, although it was all carefully 
monitored and policed by customs officers. Over the next three days the ship 
would take on fuel and a relatively vast amount of supplies ranging from 
fresh local vegetables and other foodstuffs (in huge quantities there were 
over 2000 personnel on the ship) through a variety of items such as office 
supplies and toilet paper, to emergency engine parts and computer 
components, and many other things necessary to maintain the complex 
functioning of a state-of-the-art starship. 

It wouldn't leave anything, though. Waste was dumped in deep space, and 
unofficial visitors to Hedonia were not allowed. 

Neville, as a front for more lucrative activities, had several genuine 
business interests, most notably the supply of alcoholic beverages. He had 
secured a contract to supply this ship in advance of its visit, and because 
of the penchant of humans everywhere to indulge in the delights of liquor, 
he was looked upon with particular indulgence by the ship's officials. (They 
didn't know it yet, but he also intended to sell them a large batch of 
vacuum packed ready meals which had fallen off the back of a Hedonian 
transport just the thing for busy starship executives, he would have 
thought.) 

Enough about his cover! What Neville was really here to do was make contact 
with an accomplice on the ship a character by the name of Ron, who just 
happened to be head of requisitions and pick up some instructions as to what 
he was really being asked to supply. 

You guessed it Hedonian women were far from unknown to criminal elements in 
other parts of the galaxy, and the rich anywhere if they knew who to ask 
could arrange for the compliant beauties to be exported to order, a trade 
made possible by the greed driven risk taking undertaken by a small network 
of villains such as Neville and Ron. 

Within an hour access to the loading bays had been allowed, and the two 
Gentlemen with whom we are concerned found each other in the throng. 

"Morning." 

"Morning." 

"Welcome to the land of milk and honey." 

"Don't you mean milk and money?" 

This exchange was, of course, a prearranged code. Ron and Neville had never 
met, although they had talked extensively on pirate interplanetary 
communication systems over the past year or so. 

They shook hands and chatted, aware they were probably being carefully 
observed, and taking care to limit their conversation to genuine business. 

"The Hedonian malt should go down well, and there's a bit of a craze for 
exotic wines at the moment, so I'll take a good selection," Ron concluded, 
aware that other suppliers were milling around, waiting to get his 
attention. "Here's a copy of my spec list. Perhaps you can help us out in 
the soft drinks area as well." 

Neville took the list, only to find it snatched from his hand by a customs 
official who had sneaked up on them. 

"I'll take a look at that," said the shrew-like character, and not only 
flicked through the pages of the document but shook it out to check that 
nothing had been secreted between it's pages. Goodness knows what he 
expected, or hoped, to find perhaps a tabloid journalist's report on the 
secret evils of Hedonia, complete with saucy photos in full color. There was 
nothing to be seen, however, but page upon page of largely unintelligible 
computer printout, and the man soon lost interest and handed the thing back 
with a grunt. 

Neville and Ron exchanged a look which encompassed relief, collusion, 
smugness and amusement. 

"Well, do you think you can fill the order?" Ron couldn't resist saying, 
before turning to go. 

"Don't see why not. I'll certainly do my best," Neville replied, and they 
parted company with nods specially designed not to look too friendly. 

Without appearing to hurry, Neville left the terminal and drove home. He 
whistled to himself, reflecting on how much he had been looking forward to 
today. Life was good, sometimes. 

As soon as he was inside his apartment, with all the blinds drawn and a 
favorite drink in his hand, Neville scanned through the requisition list 
eagerly to find the coded section he was looking for. 

There it was! Taking up less than half a page in the 'miscellaneous other' 
section a series of numbers which only he would recognise and which would 
allow him access to a substantial amount of money in a secret account. This 
was followed by a coded specification of the goods he was to supply. 

Ten! His eyes widened. That was double last time's number (last time being a 
few months ago when a ship from a different planet had (rather conveniently) 
broken down within Hedonian hyperspace and asked for permission to dock for 
repairs). 

Ten! Quite a challenge, considering he only had three days at the most, but 
one he was more than prepared to take on, considering it meant double the 
pay off. He deciphered the special requests. Two black, three blonde, one 
extra large, and one with small tits this last was going to be the trickiest 
to find! 

The rest were not described and therefore standard, but it went without 
saying that all of them had to be beautiful and utterly, flawlessly 
user-friendly. That was what the punters were paying for. 

Next Neville poured over the rest of the requisition. This was important, 
and was in fact the bit he enjoyed most about this little sideline. He had 
to get ten girls aboard that ship without the customs, police or anyone 
aboard her (except Ron) noticing. It wasn't just a case of smuggling them on 
when no-one was looking. They had to be hidden very carefully andingeniously 
amongst the genuine supplies. This was where creativity was required, and it 
was the sort of creativity that Neville enjoyed most. He turned the pages 
again and again, looking for ideas and inspiration. The request for fire 
extinguishers caught his eye, as did the order of an ice making machine. 

He sat back and had a long think which led to a long jack off. Then he had 
bite to eat before reaching for the phone and setting his plans in motion. 

Neville worked hard in the next two days. He had the contacts and he had the 
money, and he had no doubt that he would be able to fulfill the order for 
ten Hedonian women to leave with the starship. The women were soon procured 
through various secret channels. They had all been sneaked out from 
situations where they wouldn't be missed for example one of the several 
hundred used to decorate the main thoroughfares of the city centre, and one 
of the several dozen offering a naked porterage service at the bottom of a 
particularly steep hill in the shopping district. 

Since, as a typical Hedonian, he had a strong personal interest in female 
bondage and subjugation, he attended to the tasks in hand personally. His 
various acquaintances delivered the necessary raw materials-including the 
women to an old warehouse he happened to own, and in here he locked himself, 
literally and metaphorically rolled up his sleeves, and prepared to have 
fun. 

This was how the ten women would spend their interstellar journeys. 

Neville had undertaken some of the easier preparations first, leaving the 
more complicated arrangements 'til later. His first thought had been to put 
to use some of his own alcoholic supplies. He didn't dare replace too much 
volume of alcohol with smuggled women as a shortage of booze was the sort of 
thing that might be noticed, but nevertheless he found room for two pieces 
of human cargo in a couple of beer barrels. He had simply had the bottoms 
cut out to allow him to squeeze a doubled up woman into each. Bit of a 
problem getting the arms and legs neatly tucked away, but he'd managed it in 
the end, with the help of the girls themselves. Always eager to please, he'd 
simply left them alone for a while and told them to experiment. He came back 
to find the one who'd tried to get in the barrel bottom-first hopelessly 
stuck in it with her legs still waving in the air, but the other, who had 
tipped the barrel on its side and crawled in slowly head-first, had made a 
better job of it. He gave her a helping hand by standing the barrel on end 
and using gravity to help jam her in further. 

"Good girl," he said, pushing on her ass and crossing her ankles and 
distinctly heard a stifled "Thank you, Sir" issuing from the depths of the 
barrel. 

He tipped a couple of cans of beer over her upended rear just to make sure 
the barrel smelt right then refitted the loose bottom and turned the barrel 
the right way up, double checking the tiny air holes under the rim. 

It would do, he decided, standing back and enjoying the way he had 
completely hidden the voluptuous female form from sight. There was no time 
for complex servicing arrangements. It would be Ron's job to look after that 
end of things, once the girls were safely aboard the ship. 

Now Neville turned to the jack-knifed woman in the other barrel, who was 
crying. 

"I'm sorry, Sir. I just tried sitting in it and now I'm stuck!" 

Neville shook his head. "Silly thing! Now listen, I'll turn you upside down 
and you grab hold of that railing near the floor. I'll see if I can pull 
this thing off you." 

With great pleasure, he hoisted the barrel over 'til its contents could 
stand on the floor naked hands and feet protruding from the bottom and 
splayed out for all the world like four legs of a bar table. 

"Where's the railing, Sir?" came an echoing voice from inside the barrel. "I 
can't see anything." 

Sir looked around. There was in fact a suitable railing quite nearby, but it 
suddenly occurred to him that it might be amusing to watch this animated 
container struggle a little way across the warehouse. 

"Move," he said, nudging the barrel with his knee. "I'll direct you." 

It was amusing. The feet and hands could only make tiny, pattering little 
steps, and it was obviously difficult for the girl to maintain her balance, 
especially when Neville nudged her a few more times to change direction. 
Suddenly inspired, he jumped up to sit on the flat top of the barrel, and 
giggled at how it shook and wobbled beneath him. 

"Come on, keep moving straight on," he shouted. "Nearly there." 

His bizarre ride over, he guided the woman 'til she was stood over the low 
railing feet beneath it and hands clutching hard then began to pull the 
barrel free from the doubled over torso and thighs it encased. 

On the one hand, his weight on top of her had forced the woman even deeper 
into her prison, but on the other, the fact she had sweated as she struggled 
to move and carry him had provided some lubrication. Slowly she came free 
until her head and squashed up tits emerged, but her ample bottom remained 
jammed, however hard he tried to free it. 

The girl was crying again, and so was Neville with laughter. Gosh, this was 
fun. 

"It's no good, you'll just have to stay in there! Look, you're just out far 
enough for me to bend your legs down. If I can get your feet inside the rim, 
I can push you all back in again." 

By folding her legs so that the calves were flat against her thighs, and 
with the aid of a little beer as lubrication, he managed to get all the bits 
of her inside the barrel. Tucking her arms down between her tits, he gave 
her a little pat on the forehead. 

"Of course, this means you'll be spending the journey basically standing on 
your head, but then it serves you right for getting your ass wedged in here 
in the first place, doesn't it?" 

"Yes, Sir," she said one more time, before he sealed her neatly away from 
sight, then rolled the barrel back across the warehouse floor to where the 
first one awaited. 

Feeling mischievous, he stacked barrel one on top of barrel two, cautioning 
their contents to stay nicely still and quiet and pretend they were already 
among the several hundred genuine barrels of beer that would be loaded onto 
the ship tomorrow. 

A discrete, secret mark was all that would enable Ron to tell this shipment 
apart from the real booze. 

Two done, eight still to go, Neville reflected, and hurried over to begin 
work on the cauliflowers. 

Cauliflowers? Yes, several hundred of them in one huge crate, towards the 
centre of which he intended to hide another woman! 

Moving about half of the quality vegetable produce out of the way, he 
grabbed another of the women from the silent group which waited resignedly 
where he had told them to, and instructed her to push her legs deep into the 
pile at a wide angle until she was wading almost waist deep in cauliflower 
heads. Then he began to pile the vegetables round her until she was entirely 
surrounded and crushed by them. During the operation he told her to lean 
back, with her arms behind her, so that her head and torso faced upwards. He 
then enjoyed himself packing the cauliflowers artistically around her so 
that only her face and tits protruded from the huge sea of them spreading 
across the top of the crate. 

In the gloom of a storage room, he doubted whether anyone would immediately 
notice that three of the similar sized mounds were in fact animal rather 
than vegetable! Of course if a kitchen assistant reached in and found 
himself with a handful of soft tit instead of an ingredient of his dinner, 
he might be a bit shocked, but again it was Ron's job, shipside, to ensure 
that sort of thing didn't happen. 

After taking a little break, Neville decided to inspect one of the pieces of 
smuggling equipment he had had specially adapted. It was a fire 
extinguisher, of the giant variety which would stand in some corner of the 
cargo decks and be operated automatically. 

It had occurred to him that one of these would just be big enough to contain 
a smallish woman, and that it was an excellent hiding place as no one would 
ever believe that such a thing could conceal a human being. Anyone who had 
seen an averagely sized Hedonian woman would be right to think it 
impossible, as there would be no room in the slim cylinder for the big, 
jutting out tits to go. But Neville had an order for a small breasted woman, 
and it was to this slight creature that he now beckoned. 

She approached the fire extinguisher wide eyed, and stared with even more 
shocked horror as Neville eased the casing open to reveal the relatively 
tiny space within. He was pleased to see that his instructions had been 
carried out the hollow extinguisher was lined with coarse sandpaper. 

He had been concerned about the stability of the extinguisher. He suspected 
it probably would be affixed to something when upright, but just in case it 
was ever left free-standing, he didn't want the struggles of the woman 
inside to send it toppling over. Hence the sandpaper, which would ensure the 
occupant kept completely still, as any movement against the tight walls that 
would surround her so closely would be extremely painful and uncomfortable. 

"Step inside," he said to the girl, gesturing with mock politeness, and 
watched her squeeze herself gingerly into the tight little space. Her head, 
shoulders and hips just fit, though he had to push a little here and there, 
which made her flinch and yowl as the sandpaper scratched and scraped her. 

"Say goodbye to Hedonia!" he quipped as he eased the front casing shut, but 
the poor girl was still too shocked by what was happening to her to utter a 
word, and just gaped at him mutely, eyes wider than ever, until she was 
hidden from sight. 

Neville consulted the checklist he had compiled over the last couple of 
days, wondering which option to address next. He chose the simplest. 

He turned to the remaining girls. "Who wants to be a box of toilet paper?" 

This request was, unsurprisingly, met with silence. 

"It's an easy option, I assure you," he told them. "What's a bit of 
humiliation to ladies of your obliging nature?" 

Legs shaking, one of the girls eventually stepped forward. 

"Okay, follow me," Neville said, and marched her over to a corner of the 
warehouse where a huge consignment of boxes waited piled up in 
fork-lift-truckable stacks. He shifted a few around and pulled one out from 
towards the middle of a stack. 

"Don't want you accidentally disturbed before Ron can sort you out, do we?" 
he mumbled. 

He opened the box, which was of conventional cardboard and just about woman 
sized extremely squashed up uncomplaining Hedonian woman sized, that is. 

We might live in the age of starships and super technology, he reflected as 
he removed several dozen rolls of pink toilet paper, but we haven't come up 
with an alternative to this yet! Some of man's basic requirements don't 
change! 

"In you get," he said to the resigned toilet paper substitute, and helped 
her squeeze herself into the box. 

And then suddenly the pent up arousal from his morning's work became too 
much. 

"Get your ass up," he growled. "I'm going to fuck you." 

Obediently, the girl raised her rump, and her cunt became visible above the 
rim of the cardboard. The rest of her was still well and truly inside the 
box her head down and touching the bottom of it. 

Neville got his prick out, knelt down, and plunged into the tight cunt with 
great pleasure. He glanced over to where the two barrels, box of 
cauliflowers, and fire extinguisher stood with their hidden secrets, and a 
few moments' concentration on what the four women were experiencing and 
would continue to experience for days if not weeks, soon had him over the 
edge. 

"What do you say?" he asked his fuck automatically. 

"Thank you, Master," came the reply nice and muffled, the way Neville liked 
and was used to. 

Watching his spunk run out from the hole he'd just used, he picked up one of 
the surplus toilet rolls and jammed it up between the girl's legs with a 
little chuckle. Then he pushed her firmly down again and taped up the box 
carefully so it looked like all the others. A couple of air holes and a 
secret mark later, he was burying the box back towards the middle of the 
stack, and turning his attention to the next task on the agenda. 

This was perhaps his favorite idea. It involved a large refuse collector 
essentially a dustbin which had been ordered to replace a broken one on the 
ship. Apparently it would be one of a bank of several used in the ship's 
kitchens and was therefore likely to fill up with all manner of food scraps 
for example egg shells, onion skins, cabbage leaves, rotting tomatoes, over 
ripe plums, out of date sauces, forgotten fish fillets, too smelly cheese, 
abandoned gateaux, etc, etc as well as the more than occasional empty curry 
carton, piece of greaseproof paper, dustpan full of broken glass you get the 
general idea! 

Periodically, he understood, the bins were automatically turned upside down 
and emptied into a larger container, in which the garbage was compressed 
before being fired into space. It was therefore vital that anyone hidden 
inside one of them was well secured to the walls or floor so they wouldn't 
be dislodged. 

Neville had carefully inspected the refuse collector and found that much of 
its currently empty inside could be seen through the relatively large flap 
in the top. However, the blind spot was sufficiently big to hide two 
occupants, and he had decided to use the two black girls, who would be even 
harder to see, should anyone happen to peer into the dark interior of the 
bin. 

It had taken him some time to decide whether to have them lying on the floor 
or standing against the wall below the flap, which there was plenty of room 
for them to do without coming anywhere near the top of the huge bin. Lying 
tied up at the bottom of a pile of garbage was perhaps the more humiliating 
position and safer from the point of view of discovery but then he'd have to 
worry more about breathing arrangements and the girls wouldn't have the 
experience of watching the mound of rotting rubbish build up, slowly burying 
them up to the knees, then waist, then neck. 

Always aware of the humiliation potential of his smuggling masterpieces for 
this is how he saw them, almost as works of art he had gone for a series of 
metal restraints against the 'blind' wall which he'd had specially 
commissioned and fitted ready for this moment. 

These would fasten themselves tightly around the girls' ankles, thighs, 
waists, shoulders, wrists and neck automatically when pressure was applied. 
Once closed, there would be no release until they were cut free on arrival 
in their new home in some distant galaxy. He had to make sure his precious 
cargo wasn't accidentally thrown out into the void with the rubbish! n 

Neville beckoned the two black girls towards him, and on the face of one of 
them, he thought he saw something he hadn't come across in a woman for many 
years resentment. 

Stunned, he challenged her. 

"Get down on your knees, slave, and worship my crotch!" 

The woman obeyed, but there wasn't the right amount (i.e., a lot) of 
enthusiasm in her kissing. He grabbed her hair. 

"So you don't like the idea of the dustbin, eh? Who do you think you are?! " 

The woman trembled. 

"Tell me how happy you are to spend the next few days getting covered in 
kitchen waste!" 

Scared now, the woman answered quickly. "I'm honoured to spend the next few 
days inside a dustbin, Master!" 

But it was too late. Though she hadn't said a word in protest, the momentary 
look in her eyes had given away the fact that her motivation or programming 
whichever it was had failed her, and she had been tempted to rebel. 

"You," he said to the other girl. "Go over there and get me that cane from 
the wall." 

The girl ran to fulfill her task, and had soon returned with the four foot 
instrument of punishment in her hand. 

Neville addressed the miscreant "Bend over and touch your toes!"-and was 
amused by the speed with which she did so. 

"Now," he handed the cane to the woman who had fetched it. "You can do the 
caning. Twenty strokes. As hard as you can." 

Quashing all sorts of emotions, the second woman also speedily obeyed her 
instructions. Lifting the cane high, she swished it down onto her 
companion's up-thrust bottom, and proceeded to repeat the action as quickly 
as she could, as if to get it over with as soon as possible. 

The recipient did her very best to stay still and stifle her screams. The 
pain was horrendous, but in a way she felt numb to it. After all, she had n 
shown reluctance and deserved to be punished. After twenty rapid, heavy 
strokes, however, she was sobbing quite uncontrollably, and was desperate to 
stand up and at least rub her hands over her poor, abused bottom. She stayed 
in position, though, eagerly awaiting an indication that the punishment was 
over. 

"Mm, not bad," said Neville to the woman standing, panting, cane in hand. 
"Quite a proficient punishment very exciting to see you expend all that 
energy. However," he snatched the cane away from her. "Not really hard 
enough for my liking! Let me show you how it's done." 

Patting, stroking, teasing the weal covered ass with the cane, he kept the 
shaking woman in dreadful suspense before swinging his arm right back and 
bringing the cane down with all the force he could muster. This time the 
woman did scream, and lost her balance, toppling over heavily on the floor, 
and squirming around in agony, her hands clutching her bottom at last but 
not helping at all to relieve the searing pain. 

"Up into position, quickly," Neville instructed calmly, and the woman had no 
choice but to obey. "I haven't time for another twenty, but perhaps another 
four or five like that will teach you not to go against your true nature in 
future. Here it comes." 

This time he used both hands, and stepped forward with the stroke. He really 
wanted to see how hard he could hit her. There was no reason at all for him 
not to. 

Again the woman fell to the floor, screaming and squirming and sobbing. Her 
colleague, standing limply nearby, was also sobbing by this time, but trying 
anxiously to hide it, desperately afraid that she also might soon be 
writhing in agony on the floor. 

Four more times the scene was repeated as Neville dished out as heavy a 
caning as he could. He had seldom enjoyed himself as much! 

"Now stop that blubbering this instant," he told his victim firmly when it 
was over, "or we'll start all over again." 

He stood, playing with the cane and worrying for a while before next 
addressing the broken woman. 

"This is very serious. Someone's paying a huge amount of money for you, and 
we can't go sending out less than perfect goods. The reputation of Hedonian 
women and hence this whole operation depends on your good behavior. There's 
no time to replace you now, so you just listen to me. If I ever hear any 
sort of bad report back through the network, I'll personally come and find 
you and give you a punishment you'll be lucky to live through. Do you 
understand?" 

"Yes, Master," the woman whispered. She believed him, and she was right to. 

"Now, just to help remind you to get your emotions back on track, I'm going 
to fix you to that wall upside down. It's not going to be comfortable 
because the fittings weren't designed for it, but that's tough luck. And no 
imagine breathing tube or anything you'll just have to struggle for your air 
through the cabbage leaves!" 

Neville put the cane aside and fetched a couple of huge ball gags he had 
ready. 

"Since I can't trust you to be quiet, I'm going to gag you both of you. What 
a shame, you'll have no option but to breathe through your noses all the 
time and hence inhale all the delightful smells!" 

He forced the gags into the girls' mouths and then thought of one more 
potential problem. 

"I don't want whoever unpacks you at the other end to think you've been 
disobedient, so make sure you tell him the cane weals and the upside down 
position are just a special extra for his amusement. Don't forget!" 

Impatient now, he ushered the girls through the service door in the side of 
the huge refuse bin. Leaving the door open allowed in enough light to show 
up the metal fixtures, which he checked as he had done when the bin was 
first delivered. 

"Now," he said to the unmarked of the two women. "Because you've been so 
good, I'm going to let you stand facing the wall. Split your legs, get your 
arms up, and stand close to the wall. Go on!" 

Feeling very lucky though luck was definitely relative in this case she 
sidled up to the waiting, spring loaded bands of metal. When she was 
properly lined up she moved forward without further prompting, and felt the 
ten steel restraints entrap her. Her legs were stretched too wide, her arms 
too high, and her tits were too squashed against the cold, black wall but at 
least she wouldn't see what was building up behind her. And at least she 
wasn't to suffer the journey upside down and covered in fresh weals! Deep 
down, she had found the caning difficult, but it was infinitely better to 
have been giving rather than receiving! 

Neville now swung the other girl up into the air and round, then deposited 
her almost threw her onto the waist restraint, upside down, and facing 
outwards, of course. It closed nice and tightly, and for a moment she hung 
there, struggling, her legs and arms waving in the air. 

"Stay still!" Neville snapped, and bent down to position her arms against 
what were meant to be the thigh and ankle restraints. It was a stretch but 
he managed it. Next he pressed her thighs into the shoulder clamps and fixed 
her feet where her hands should've gone. She looked very ungainly and 
uncomfortable good! 

Only the neck clamp remained empty. He stood looking at it for a while, then 
retreated into the depths of his warehouse. A few minutes among the wealth 
of equipment he kept there, and he returned with a long, thick dildo, padded 
at one end with layers of taped on sponge. He pushed it down into the 
woman's vulnerable pussy and fixed the padded end firmly in the neck clamp. 

"Perfect fit! Not bad for a quick improvisation!" 

Feeling very pleased, therefore, with his modified waste bin, he returned to 
the last two waiting women in a jovial mood. 

"Now, I'm going to offer you two ladies a choice. Hot or cold, which do you 
prefer?" 

The two women just looked at him, anxious and bemused. 

"Let me explain," Neville continued. "One of you is going to spend the 
journey inside an ice machine right at the bottom, squeezed down against the 
cold metal by the two or three feet of ice cubes piled up on top of you! The 
other is going to be built into a hot drinks dispenser-cooped up nice and 
tightly just behind the casing where no-one will guess you're hiding, with 
lots of pipes carrying hot coffee and soup threaded all around you, and the 
main heating unit right under your ass! I should imagine you'll get nice and 
sweaty in there. Mm it'll be steaming off you! Now who's it going to be? 
Decide quickly." 

Still the women hesitated, unable to get their minds round the horror of the 
options they were being forced to choose between. 

"What's wrong with you?" Neville raved. "Didn't you see what happened to the 
black girl just now? Do you want me to order you to whip each other 'til one 
of you's unconscious?" 

The women promptly remembered their user-friendliness which had so 
mysteriously deserted them and began to fall over themselves to choose the 
worst option. 

"Let me sweat in the coffee maker or, no I'll be crushed by the ice!" 

"I could do the cold option I'm used to shivering-I spent a week on a hook 
in a meat store just recently!" 

"But I've been a fountain sculpture in winter! Oh, wait a minute! I should 
do the baking-I forgot, I get really bad heat rash, so I'll be even more 
uncomfortable than you 'cos I'll be itching all over as well." 

Neville grinned at them. "Seems we've decided, then. Now follow me girls.. " 
And Neville set to work once more at his favorite pastime of reducing women 
to bondage objects. 

Now if you've been counting, you might notice that only nine women's hiding 
places have been described. You might also have noticed which one was 
missing the large one. This is because in this particular case the 
arrangements had already been made and the shipment had been waiting 
elsewhere well, in a cargo bay next to the warehouse, actually for the last 
twelve hours. 

Neville had been slightly worried when he'd first seen the request for a 
large specimen of womanhood, but not half as worried as when he'd seen her! 

An acquaintance who owed him a favor worked on a fat farm one of several 
establishments on Hedonia which produced extra large sex slaves for those 
many citizens who liked them that way. The raw material was young, slim 
(although buxom) women like all the rest, but after a few years on the farm 
they were barely recognizable. They spent their days in rows of little 
rooms, happily or at least obediently-munching away at high calorie meals 
and definitely not getting any exercise. Most were striving to achieve 
weight gain targets, and would be punished severely if they didn't reach 
them on time. 

A good fat farm could supply any size of woman on request, from slightly 
plump to unbelievably huge. Neville's contact had insisted that it was only 
one of the largest variety that he could get hold of at such short notice, 
and Neville had been forced to concur. 

When he saw her, though! She could barely stand! He couldn't imagine her 
being any use as a working slave, but supposed that as an overblown sex doll 
she was interesting. 

He scratched his head as he looked at her, wondering how on earth he was to 
smuggle such a huge creature aboard ship. He looked through the requisition 
again and noticed a requirement for a large quantity of lubricating oil for 
some moving components of the ship's function. A phone call told him the oil 
was being supplied in three large tanks, of a size suitable for haulage on 
Hedonian roads. That would have to be it. No other container would be big 
enough to contain this monster of a woman. 

And so he had arranged to intercept the oil tankers when they arrived, and 
had had time to inspect them and devise a plan. Initially he had envisaged 
draining one and building some sort of capsule into it, but they were so big 
and the oil inside so thick and black and sticky and smelly, that he had 
decided it would be too difficult in the little time he had available and 
without proper equipment. So it had to be something more simple. 

Clambering up onto the top of one of the tankers, he found it did have a 
large hatch through which his cargo should just about fit. It was quite 
full, though, and since he didn't want it to overflow when he put the woman 
in, he had to drain some of the oil off through a valve in the bottom, 
estimating how much volume her bulk might displace. 

There were several valves and he chose the most inaccessible one to act as 
an air outlet for the woman who was to hide in the tank. A slight adaptation 
and a short tube was inserted ready for her to breathe through. Now he gave 
some thought to how she should be secured. While the thought of her floating 
and swishing around in the huge vat of black oil was pleasing, he didn't 
want her thudding against the sides and giving the game away. In the end he 
opted for the very simple solution of attaching a strong magnet to her he 
had planned to strap it round her waist, but this was so massive (not to 
mention difficult to find) that he had to settle for a thigh instead, and 
even then the strap only just went round which should anchor her to the 
metal side of the container. 

With the aid of a mini crane he got her up above the tanker, and had her sit 
on the edge of the open hatch. 

"Now," he told her. "You're going to jump in there when I say and feel 
around the front section until you find that breathing tube. Get your mouth 
round it quickly it's got a strap attached so it won't fall off when you 
sleep then activate the magnet and stay put. All you've got to do is lie 
there and keep breathing. It's your responsibility to stay alive!" 

She looked at him meekly, and nodded. He was amazed at how well she was 
taking the idea of being immersed indefinitely in the depths of a huge 
tanker of thick sludge, with not a stitch of clothing on and nothing to 
protect her eyes, ears, nose and cunt from the intrusive liquid but then she 
was used to doing very little except what she was told. 

"Remember, keep your mouth round that tube, because it's probably the only 
way you're going to get fed and watered during the journey. Okay, in you 
get." 

He gave her a little push and watched her disappear from sight under the 
black surface of the liquid. There was a thud and a scramble, and he 
hurriedly closed the hatch and climbed down to see if she was breathing 
alright. Yes, the tiny sound of air being drawn in and exhaled gave the 
secret of the tanker away to the knowing ear. 

"Bye!" he shouted, patting the side of the tank. But out of sight was not 
out of mind. During the night Neville had a nice long jack off at the 
thought of that huge blubbery mound of humanity lying quietly, deep inside 
the slippery black oil, totally isolated from the world and surrounded by 
cold liquid which slopped around every crease and crevice with the slightest 
movement. 

In fact, the woman herself, who had quite a resigned and docile temperament, 
soon got used to her strange new world of total immersion, and even found 
that it had a rather unexpected benefit. The viscous oil supported her 
weight and made her feel as light as a feather. She couldn't resist 
deactivating the magnet and letting herself float upwards, and began to 
experiment with leaving the breathing tube and walking around and swimming 
in the oil. As her confidence grew, she enjoyed herself twisting and turning 
in the delightful medium, and soon became quite adept at splashing and 
paddling about, unseen, like a drunken walrus in a giant goldfish bowl. 

When, some weeks later, the long journey was over, and the oil was drained 
from the tanker to reveal a huge, black, slimy lump lying at the bottom, 
that lump was quivering with sobs. The fat farm product had just rudely 
rediscovered what it felt like to be heavy! 

Neville hung around the port for much of the following day, keeping his eyes 
and ears open, but it couldn't be said that he oversaw the loading of his 
shipment. He didn't want to make himself too obvious, and he had to trust in 
the arrangements he had made going according to plan. He did catch a glimpse 
of the waste disposal unit being loaded, but since there was no outcry, he 
assumed none of his secret consignment had been discovered. 

He met deliberately briefly with Ron to hand over coded details of where the 
women were hidden. He knew Ron would enjoy uncovering the secret cargo as 
much as he had enjoyed preparing it. 

They shook hands, within the watchful gaze of a customs official. 

"Enjoy your trip," said Neville to his accomplice. 

"I'm sure I will," Ron replied with the tiniest of winks. 

In fact Ron was so busy that day with his real job of seeing to the 
deliveries, it wasn't 'til late at night, when the ship had actually left 
the port and was hurtling its way through the space-time void, that he had 
time to study the coded list and work out which of the stowaways he would 
need to service first in the morning. (He wrongly assumed Neville had 
checked on and serviced all the women that day thereby forcing the variety 
of human packages now in his care to wait a little longer for a drink!) 

He was very impressed by Neville's ingenuity and very aroused. The fat woman 
wallowing in the oil was his favorite, but unfortunately one of the least 
accessible. Of course there was no way he was going to have ten Hedonian sex 
slaves to look after without making the best possible use of at least some 
of them! 

He decided on the woman in the toilet paper box as being the easiest one to 
satisfy his present needs coincidentally the same woman Neville had made use 
of just before sealing her up the previous day. Keeping an eye out for 
unwanted company, he made his way into the depths of the appropriate 
storeroom and located the latest delivery. 

"Pussy! Hey, pussy, where are you?" he asked the boxes. After a little pause 
he heard a muffled groan and thus located the special package. He cut 
through the tape and opened up the box, sighing with pleasure as he revealed 
the naked curves of the woman within, all squashed up and uncomfortable. 

"Mmmmm! Hello gorgeous," he said, looking down on her with appreciation, and 
particularly noting how you could see her big squashed tits peeping out from 
around her back. 

He knelt down and began to feel her up all over. The toilet roll between her 
legs had served to absorb some of her piss, but had now dried out. He tossed 
it aside and plunged some fingers into her pussy. He also spent some time 
pinching her ass and tits which made her squirm a little in the tight space. 

"Now do you really think you should've responded to my call just now?" he 
asked her. "Didn't anyone tell you to keep quiet? What if I'd been a customs 
man?" 

"I'm so sorry, Sir! I shouldn't have. Ouch!" That last pinch had been really 
hard! 

"If I get a spare moment tomorrow, I'll come and punish you properly," Ron 
continued, "but right now I just want your cunt. Lift it up!" 

Stiff, sore, tired, hungry and thirsty though she was, the woman obeyed 
quickly, raising her rump above the rim of the box to be ravished once more. 
Unable to wait a moment longer, Ron pushed himself into her, and was soon 
lost in long awaited oblivion. 

And then, just as he was about to let himself go completely, he heard a 
noise behind him, and jerked his head round in shock and panic. 

Here he was, the ship's senior requisitions officer, his pants down and his 
shaft deep inside the cunt of a smuggled Hedonian slave and there was none 
other than the ship's Captain, standing right behind him, and looking on 
with a frown. 

"Captain Krik!" Ron exclaimed. "I I'm " 

But what could he say? He'd been caught in the act. 

Captain Krik shook his head slowly. "I'm very disappointed in you, Ron," he 
said. 

"I'm sorry, Captain. I just couldn't resist!" 

For a long moment there was no sound in the huge storeroom but Ron's 
embarrassingly loud panting and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. 

"I distinctly told you," the Captain went on sternly, "to come and tell me 
the details as soon as you had them! I'm the Captain of this ship and I 
ought to be the first to sample the delights of any interesting stowaways we 
might be carrying! Oh well," he sighed. "I suppose I can't blame you for 
being keen. Most of the women on this ship are so prudish they'd drop dead 
at the sight of a willy. Just get out of there quickly and let me have a 
go!" 

A few seconds later, Captain Krik had taken Ron's place, and the relieved 
smuggler had moved to the other end of his cargo. 

Hold on, thought the woman in the box. If the Captain of the ship is in on 
all this, there's really no need for us to be hidden away in elaborate 
bondage, is there? 

But before she could dwell on this depressing revelation, she was distracted 
by Ron providing her with her first drink for about thirty six hours three 
copious mouthfuls of sweet, milky spunk! 

* * * 

BUNNY'S TALE 

Three weeks into his visit, Luke Blackmoor was hit by a revelation. It was a 
particular orgasm that did it. 

One of the many, many surprises and delights of the Palace in which he was 
enjoying such a wonderful holiday (yes, he had to admit that was what it 
was), was a little room known as the Pussy Cave. It was underground, along a 
dimly lit corridor, and was decorated to look like some exotic grotto, with 
stone effect walls and an array of artificial stalactites and stalagmites. 
The Pussy Cave was quite small, small enough to make the twenty or so women 
who were always inside it make it seem very full and cramped indeed. 

When you walked in, you found yourself utterly swamped and surrounded by a 
sea of naked, available womanhood. To move around you virtually had to fight 
your way through ranks of stretching limbs, and heaving breasts. All these 
women had been instructed to behave as if permanently sexually frustrated. 
Apparently, when no man was visiting them, they made good use of the 
aforementioned rock-like protrusions you could see where these had been 
eroded away by constant use! 

All the President's guests and employees were allowed to visit the cave 
whenever and for however long they liked, and one night, Luke had spent a 
couple of hours rolling round in ecstasy, with pussies and tits just waiting 
to be groped and played with in all directions, and a stream of warm mouths 
fighting to suck him, 'til he was driven wild with the excess of pleasure. 

It was when his orgasm finally exploded deep inside something like the tenth 
pussy his cock has been up in an hour and with his field of vision filled by 
about six massive pairs of tits clustered around his head, almost obscuring 
the image of two or three of these horny beauties working themselves off 
rapturously on the tips of massive stalagmites, that Luke experienced an 
all-embracing physical and emotional wrench and realization. It stayed with 
him as he staggered back to his room, and was foremost in his mind as he sat 
in bed now, after a night of ecstatic, erotic dreams. 

Luke did not want to leave Hedonia! He could finally admit it to himself. 

Hedonia was heaven, paradise, Utopia! Once experienced well, the thought of 
leaving was unbearable. His perspective on life had changed completely. He 
no longer cared about his home planet, his career, the United Planets' 
ambitions, or the success of this assignment. He had seen himself as a 
strong man, but he didn't have the strength to withstand the temptation of 
what was on offer here. A life of luxury and carefree pleasure! 

He sat alone he'd turfed all the women out of his room on waking-sipping a 
drink and thinking hard. 

If he broke faith with his employers, he could never go back. They would 
never forgive him he would be court-martialed, or worse! The press would 
condemn him, the whole galaxy would hate him. His family such as there was 
of it would turn against him and he would never be able to find another job 
assuming he didn't spend the rest of his life in some off-world prison. 

So he had to be sure of his continued welcome on Hedonia. After all, he was 
being treated like this because he was an important visitor. What if things 
changed when he was just an immigrant? He hadn't actually been invited to 
stay and he couldn't guess what the reaction would be if he suggested it. 
After all, Hedonia had its own goals and ambitions. 

Luke sighed. This was foolishness. He would just have to accept that the 
fantastic lifestyle he had been enjoying wasn't going to last indefinitely, 
and somehow handle the grief and withdrawal symptoms of leaving this 
luscious planet behind for ever. 

Another thought occurred to him. It was his report which might determine 
whether Hedonia would be accepted into the galactic community. If he wanted 
to be able to come back, he had to ensure the report was favorable. But then 
his findings would be tested by others. What would the free women of other 
worlds have to say about the submissiveness of their counterparts in this 
culture? 

He would have to think on it all some more, and continue with the moral 
battles. 

But the women of Hedonia had had their effect on him. Luke was a changed 
man! 

Soon after this, something else happened which was to add yet more turmoil 
to Luke's troubled mind. It involved Bunny, a third personal slave he had 
requested a while ago, having tired just a little of Pussy and Kitty. 

Throughout most of Luke's stay on Hedonia, the weather had been 
exceptionally pleasant. It was high summer and the sun was making its 
presence felt, although light breezes made the temperature bearable. 

Luke had been working on his report, and rather like when he had been a 
schoolboy, saw no reason not to take his work outdoors for a change. So far 
he had been writing in his room or in one of the Palace courtyards or 
lounges, but he had noticed a pleasant park nearby, and deciding to take 
only one of his 'assistants' with him, he set off one late afternoon, with 
just his portable PC and a bottle of drink. 

"Come on, Bunny," he said to his newest slave for that is undoubtedly what 
she was. "You can carry this for me." 

Bunny rushed up to him. 

"Thank you, Sir. How would you like me to carry it?" 

"Oh, just walking normally will be fine," he replied. He'd seen enough 
examples of how women were made to carry things on this planet like in their 
mouths while they crawled on all fours, or from clamps on their nipples or 
labia but he would somehow have found it embarrassing to walk across town 
with his slave burdened in such a way. 

So he strolled out of the Palace and towards the park, with Bunny walking 
behind him and carrying his computer very carefully in both hands. 

The park was quite a hive of activity. Many women were being played with 
like dogs that is, having things thrown for them to fetch, merely so their 
male Masters could enjoy watching their naked tits bounce as they ran 
around, or perhaps just to test their obedience, or to pass the time. He 
noticed in particular one dog-woman dragging two huge, heavy balls connected 
by a chain which she held in her teeth-backwards towards her Master, and 
another, who instead of picking up the little ball that was thrown towards 
her in her mouth, crouched down to the ground and picked it up with her 
pussy, then hurried back to her owner where she split her legs, and pushed 
the ball out again, onto the ground at his feet. 

It was all very entertaining, but Luke had a report to write. Some way from 
anyone else, he found a wooden bench facing a pretty flowerbed, and here he 
settled down. He set his PC up on his lap, and turned his thoughts to work, 
but suddenly realized Bunny was still standing in front of him, looking 
uncertain. She obviously needed some sort of instruction, and he still 
wasn't really used to giving them. 

What could she do, he wondered. Lie across his lap, her back forming a work 
table? Stand behind him using her breasts as a cushion for his head? Crouch 
at his feet motionless, in case he should want to use her as a footstool? 
Yes, any of these things she would do without question and much more. 
Doubtless she would suck him off if he asked her, or deliberately exhaust 
herself by running round and round the flowerbed, just to amuse him, or 
drape herself over the back of the bench and beg him to whip her with his 
belt, when he wanted a break from working. 

She looked so pretty, though, and so young. He felt momentarily sorry for 
her. 

"Wouldn't you like to just go for a little wander on your own? Find yourself 
an ice-cream or something?" 

Bunny's eyes widened, and she began to tremble. A moment later, Luke's whole 
perspective was shaken, as Bunny burst into tears and fell to his feet with 
an impassioned plea somewhat different to the normal one. 

"Mr. Blackmoor, please help us! You're our only chance!" 

"There, there." Luke reacted automatically, putting the PC to one side and 
lifting Bunny up so he could see her distraught face. "Don't cry. Come and 
sit beside me and tell me all about it." 

But Bunny shook her head and looked around furtively. 

"Oh, no, I can't sit down. They might be watching!" 

"Surely no-one can see us," said Luke. "What do you mean?" 

"Oh, Sir," Bunny went on. "You don't know! I've been so hoping for a moment 
alone with you, outdoors somewhere! You're always in the Palace or with the 
President's Aide. They're watching you so closely, and everywhere is 
bugged!" 

"Sit on the grass then. You don't have to kneel." 

Bunny positioned herself more comfortably and sniffed. 

"Thank you, Sir." 

"Now. Tell me what you want to tell me." 

"I will, Sir, now I've started, but I must hurry, before they come! You 
can't imagine how we've hoped for an outworld visitor how long we've waited! 
You must get off this planet and tell people what's happening. You must help 
us!" 

Luke could guess what was coming, and was honest enough to admit to himself 
that a large part of him didn't want to hear it. 

"You're going to tell me you women aren't really doing all these things 
willingly." 

Bunny nodded, shyly. "We're trained to act willing, and brainwashed to think 
everything's alright. But deep down we want to be free! It's complicated you 
see, because it's true that being servile is in our nature, and in our 
culture. But it's gone too far. It used to be just part of our lives, but 
now it's everything. We're being exploited. The things we have to suffer, 
you wouldn't believe it! We have to pretend to go to Punishment Chambers and 
Lesson Pits willingly, but really we dread it all! 

There's so much I could tell you about, I don't know where to start! The 
female fittings you've been told they don't mind it, I know, that they get a 
drug to help them. But it's not true! There is such a drug, but if anyone 
asks for it they get whipped. Oh dear, Sir! Why do you think you haven't 
been outside this city? The planet is covered with massive training camps 
for the young women and labor centers where the older women are put to work 
once they're not pretty enough to serve directly. They think they have us 
under control, but there is a resistance movement growing. And you're our 
only chance to change things. We've been dreaming about your coming, and how 
you'll help us live normal lives again!" 

Bunny took a deep breath and continued hurriedly with her saga. 

"You see, the men have an overall plan. They basically want women to take 
over anything resembling work, so they themselves can spend their time 
purely on leisure. It's still a transition period. Although they have every 
possible assistance from women, of course many men still have to work to 
keep all the planet's basic production and trade going. But more and more, 
women are being trained for all levels of job. That's why you see some women 
in suits, hurrying to meetings with briefcases. They can have the most 
difficult executive jobs to do, but still be first and foremost sexual 
slaves. 

You've seen what it's like, women having to expose themselves to men all the 
time. Imagine how difficult it is being a female executive having to do a 
demanding, responsible job, yet still being the sexual plaything of the men 
around you! Imagine having to give a presentation just after your junior 
colleague has told you to tit-shake until further notice! You can ask him to 
provide you with sales forecasts, but he can ask you to suck his cock as he 
does them! 

All over this planet there are women struggling round office corridors in 
bondage, and still being expected to fulfill a senior role. Some 

IDS companies have dress and bondage policies, like women always having to 
wear a leg spreader, for example. Imaging being a secretary being sent for 
coffee with an iron bar holding your legs three feet apart never mind a 
manager trying to chair a meeting or conduct a business discussion! And no 
allowance is made for any time spent supplying sexual services. If you keep 
getting distracted during the day by men asking you to bend over for a 
fucking or lick their boots clean, you have to work all night to catch up on 
your paperwork! 

Women are being given all the most difficult jobs. Most sales reps are women 
now. Just think what it's like having to do door to door, trying to sell 
some product, yet getting your tits out and having to drop to the floor 
every time a guy opens the door! Of course you're much more likely to just 
get used sexually and thrown out, than actually sell anything, but you still 
have to make your quota, so you're forced to make more and more calls. I've 
seen training videos on how to carry on making your pitch while being 
fucked, or worse. Invite your potential customer to leaf through a catalogue 
while you suck him off! Or continue to show him samples from your briefcase 
while you're bent over a chair getting a ramming from behind or a whipping! 
I know what it's like having to concentrate on a normal job while being 
ravished at the same time. I worked in a big company's typing pool for a 
year. It was a huge room with rows and rows of desks and PCs at which girls 
did typing for twelve hour shifts. Instead of sitting at chairs, we were all 
draped over a rail which ran along each row of desks. You bend over it at 
crotch level the desk and the PC are quite low so you're at quite an angle, 
and your ass's up in the air. Your legs are kept open with a leg spreader, 
and your tits hang down in front of you. 

You have to work away really hard copy typing, and concentrating on 
difficult word processing tasks all under phenomenal time pressure, of 
course with your back end completely exposed and available for any man in 
the company to come down and fuck you while you work! It can be so difficult 
when someone's really slamming into you and reaching forward to grab your 
tits, while you're trying desperately to finish some complicated tables, 
needed urgently for a presentation! in 

You're not allowed to eat or drink on your shift, and you're only allowed to 
relieve yourself once when some slaves come round and hold a bucket under 
you for a few minutes. Everyone works away in silence you're not allowed to 
chat and any girl who makes any sort of comment or noise gets gagged for the 
remainder of her shift. The awful male supervisor paces up and down the rows 
of upturned bottoms looking out for anyone who's slacking in their work, and 
laying a cruel whip across as many buttocks as he can find an excuse to 
punish. Oh, the awful sting of his whip, as he stands behind you, telling 
you to type faster, faster, when you've been typing for hours and hours, and 
feel like you can't go on a moment longer! 

Before this I spent nearly two years as a waitress in this awful restaurant. 
We all had to wear the most ridiculously tight rubber skirts that went right 
down to our ankles and meant that we were effectively hobbled we could only 
take the tiniest little steps which meant that, particularly as we were 
always so very busy, we were always running round rushing back and forth to 
the kitchen virtually on tip toe because of our massive heels. Oh, my feet 
alone used to hurt so much, I thought I couldn't bear it! Ten hour shifts, 
non stop, in heels like that! No man would ever do that! No man could ever 
understand the pain of it! 

The bums were cut out of these skirts, though, so our bottoms were bare, and 
everywhere we went, we got spanked and pinched and prodded both by the 
customers and the management. The manager himself actually used to walk 
around with this huge paddle, and every so often, when we were standing at a 
table trying to take an order, for example, he would come along behind us 
and wallop us unexpectedly across the ass, so hard that we'd fall forward 
into some customer's lap. Alternatively, he'd shout out for us to touch our 
toes first, and just give us this hugely painful stroke on our poor bums, 
then maybe tell us to keep standing as we were for a while, so a particular 
table could get a good view of a newly reddened posterior. I even remember 
that he'd paddle us deliberately while we were carrying something, to make 
us drop it and then have to clear it up. The customers would find it so 
funny when one of us would suddenly go sprawling along the corridor, getting 
custard or trifle everywhere! Every time someone got a paddling or fell 
over, people would clap and a big cheer would go up! 

Our tits were on show, of course, and the menu was printed on our chests, 
just above them, so after we'd showed someone to their place we had to lean 
right forward while they read the selection and played with our tits in the 
process. We weren't allowed to write anything down we had to memorize 
everything, which meant there was more chance of us making mistakes which we 
could be punished for and to make things even more difficult, our elbows 
were chained to our waists, so that we couldn't move our arms freely, and 
had to reach for things by leaning forward and getting into funny positions. 
We also had heavy iron bands round our wrists that made carrying even the 
lightest object a bit of a struggle. 

It was madness! The atmosphere was one big frenzy as rubber skirted, topless 
girls rushed about, getting constantly teased and fondled and even fucked at 
the tables, and of course periodically being forced under the tables to do 
some sucking, or just grabbed by the head and made to bend over and reach a 
stiff cock in someone's lap all this completely encouraged by the 
management, of course but still actually having to do the job of 
waitressing. Bringing out piles of hot food, and going to the bar for 
drinks, and getting people's bills ready, and helping them into their coats, 
and finding out what the soup was, and bringing them extra napkins, and 
trying to resolve deliberate complaints. 

The chef was a really cruel character, and had fixed up a sort of obstacle 
course for us to go through every time we dropped something off in the 
kitchens. In between depositing plates for washing up done manually, by more 
rubber clad women, of course and picking up the next course, we would have 
to get down on all fours and crawl through this tiny tunnel, struggle up and 
down a little set of steps (very difficult in the tight skirts!), and stick 
our rear ends into this machine which gave us an automatic caning on the 
ass. All this happened so quickly, that the customers probably never guessed 
what we had to do between going in through one door and coming out the 
other, although they might have wondered why we always arrived at their 
tables so exhausted. 

But absolutely the worst thing was this new idea the manager had for keeping 
us even busier, and punishing us even more during the course of our duties. 
We all had a number painted onto our foreheads, and every so often, our 
number would be called out, just like we were boats being called in from a 
lake, or something! When we heard our number, we had to rush, double quick, 
and leaving whatever we'd been doing, over to a corner of the restaurant, 
and hoist our tits up onto two little platforms on a device high up on this 
one wall. Then this sort of hood would come down automatically and cover our 
heads and tits from sight. The customers would only see the rest of our 
bodies, stretched and straining, and perhaps jerking a little, but what was 
actually going on behind the screen was that our tits were being whipped two 
strokes each with a cruel, fine crop by this huge brute of a man who had 
been employed specially for the purpose. The reason our heads were covered 
was so that the customers wouldn't hear us scream, because this tit whipping 
was always so painful. 

Once or twice an hour but always unpredictably our numbers would be called 
and we'd have to tear over to the corner, hoist up our tits, feel them 
squashed by cruel clamps and then get heavily whipped by an expert tit 
whipper, then just a few seconds later hurry back to whatever we'd been 
doing, like serving tables, and carry on where we'd left off! 

It was all so terrible and difficult. There was never a day off, and hardly 
a time when the restaurant wasn't absolutely packed. Only once a week it 
opened late to allow time for staff training, which consisted of practicing 
particular maneuvers like getting finger fucked without dropping a tray of 
six bowls of soup, or removing the bone from a flat fish at the same time as 
sucking a cock and getting caned on the ass. And of course after it closed, 
we had to clean everything up, and lay the tables for the next day. I used 
to particularly hate cleaning the carpet with a dustpan and brush. The 
skirts were so stiff and tight you couldn't really kneel down, so you had to 
either bend over completely from the waist, or lie down and do it by 
crawling along on your elbows. 

Oh, Sir, I didn't mean to just go on about myself, though. Kitty and Pussy, 
for example, have done all sorts of awful jobs, too. Kitty used to work on a 
24 hour switchboard they never had time set aside to sleep, but just had to 
take naps when they could, which were always interrupted by phones ringing. 
And because of the convenient location of the phone room in this huge 
building, they were constantly being visited for a quick fuck. She would be 
handling two or three inquiries at a time as well as handling two or three 
cocks at the same time! One guy pushing her against the desk and threatening 
to split her in two with a huge erection, for example, while another two 
waited impatiently, trying to force themselves into her mouth whenever there 
was a break in the conversation. Apparently the sexual attention they got in 
there was virtually endless. Even used to get fucked as they slept, curled 
up on the floor under their desks! 

And Pussy was an Air Hostess on long haul flights. Well you can imagine the 
service she was expected to offer with a smile! But the worst part was when 
she was on toilet duty. I can hardly bring myself to say it, Sir, but, well, 
there were no toilets on this plane! If someone needed to relieve 
themselves, they called for a toilet slave who would crawl between their 
legs, and swallow down all the piss! There was only one toilet slave per 
twenty passengers! And remember, Sir, these were long haul flights! Oh, 
dear!" 

Now throughout all this, Luke had been struggling against the fact that 
Bunny's account was turning him on. Her tale was cut short at this point, 
though, because suddenly, she caught sight of someone coming towards them, 
and exclaimed guiltily. 

It was Jed, striding across the grass with a fixed smile. 

How interesting, Luke thought. The thing about surveillance must be true. 

"Please, please don't tell on me!" Bunny begged Luke, before throwing 
herself into a more servile position, and wiping her tears on his feet. 

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Luke smiled at Jed as he approached. 

"Hello. I thought I'd do some work outdoors today. How did you find me?" 

"Oh, I saw you heading this way, and thought I'd get some air myself," Jed 
replied, nonchalantly. "A beautiful park, don't you think?" 

The ensuing conversation was innocent enough, but Luke couldn't avoid 
noticing that Jed made no move to leave. In the end, they walked back 
together, without Luke having a single moment more alone with Bunny. 

Oh dear, he thought to himself that evening, watching Bunny, silent once 
more, kneel down in a corner and wipe the mud off his boots with her tits, 
before polishing them, extensively and diligently, with her tongue. This job 
is getting a bit more complicated than I'd like. 

* * * 

BEHIND THE SCENES 

In his private Palace suite, Jed lay naked on black satin sheets, his face 
contorted into an expression of extreme rapture. 

A woman was sucking his cock beautifully. Her tongue caressed him expertly, 
and he gently thrust himself upwards into her throat, again and again. No 
other part of the woman was touching him only her soft warm mouth. The rest 
of her was deliciously exposed to his gaze-bulging tits pointing in his 
direction, shaven fanny clearly visible. 

How was this achieved? Simple. She was tied up in a position much favored by 
Jed upside down, dangling from a frame above his bed, positioned so that her 
head hung just above his cock. Her arms were out of sight strapped tightly 
behind her back and she was dangling by her ankles, only not held close 
together, but some way apart, so her legs were pulled wide and her cunt 
vulnerably exposed. A tight punishment belt lined with spikes cut into her 
waist, and her thighs were encircled with straps containing lead weights to 
add to the strain on her tormented legs. Her breasts had wire cable pulled 
tight around their bases, and cruel nipple clamps digging into the flesh at 
their peaks. To avoid hair falling downwards and tickling him, Jed had her 
head encased in a thick rubber hood. This covered her eyes completely, but 
her ears only partly, so she could hear any instructions Jed cared to give 
her. 

He gave her one now. "Keep that tongue moving, you bitch, or I'll whip your 
fanny raw." 

In fact, her fanny was already a little raw. He had been whipping it with 
the cat-o-nine-tails he held in his hand for the last half hour or so, which 
is about how long she had been pleasuring him since he woke up. 

Jed always slept with a woman suspended just above his cock like this. He 
wasn't that keen on having women next to him when he slept, but liked to 
have a mouth always available and very close at hand. He would often wake in 
the night and thrust himself into that warm receptacle 'til he came. 

Sometimes, half asleep, he would raise his ass up to the waiting head for a 
change, so that the warm, wet tongue could do its work on his balls and 
arsehole instead. 

This particular woman had been hanging in position since early the previous 
afternoon. He rather lost track of when they were changed. Just so long as 
there was always one there at bed time, he didn't concern himself with the 
details of how long they had to suffer there in his absence. 

Jed whipped the suspended girl's pussy and enjoyed her flinch. "Come on, 
suck harder." 

Then he whipped her again, so hard that her mouth was torn away from him and 
she swayed to and fro, frantically trying to get her mouth back round his 
cock. 

After a while, Jed pressed a button by his bedside, and watched as the whole 
apparatus by which his amusement was suspended rotated 180 degrees, 
presenting to him, instead of her tits, a pair of pert buttocks. He whipped 
these a few times before reaching out to press another button. This kept the 
suspension frame slowly rotating, which, since the girl's mouth remained 
clasped around his cock, produced a delightfully arousing corkscrew effect. 

"Suck, suck hard!" he demanded, slowly increasing the speed of rotation 'til 
the bound girl was whizzing round and his cock would take no more. He 
exploded into the busy mouth, and brought his bondage toy to a stop, tits 
facing him again. He watched her hang there for a moment, before drifting 
off into a post-orgasmic doze. 

Dangling above his spent member, the woman trembled and concentrated on 
trying not to voice her pain, which would only bring her more punishment. 

Jed was woken by the phone ringing. He reached out for it sleepily. "Hello?" 

"Good morning." It was the President. "Sleep well." 

"Oh, very. What can I do for you?" 

"Well, I've got rather a busy schedule today, and I'd quite like to, um, 
relax tonight. I wondered if you could if you weren't too busy well, prepare 
a girl for me again." 

Jed smiled. "Of course, my pleasure. Anything special?" 

"Just like last time is fine." 

"Okay." 

"Maybe you could start her off early, you know?" 

"Straight away! That'll be " he glanced at a clock " about ten hours 'til 
you're ready for her." 

"Lovely! Oh, and by the way." 

"Yes?" 

"How's it going with our visitor?" 

"Everything's under control, Mr. President. There's no need to worry." 

"Good. You know I'm relying on you." 

"Thank you. Everything's fine." 

"While I think of it has he discovered the secret fittings in his room yet?" 

"I don't think so. He hasn't said anything, and I've scanned through most of 
the films." 

"Something like the toilet cistern I can understand, but you'd have thought 
he'd at least have detected the woman in his mattress by now!" 

"I'm sure it doesn't even cross his mind." 

The President chuckled. "Most amusing, I have to say. Well, carry on with 
the good work." 

Jed rang off and swung himself out of bed. He allowed himself half an hour 
to be washed, dressed, fed and pampered by a bevy of beautiful maidens, then 
made a phone call to an office in the Palace. 

"I need a girl to prepare for the President. Choose the prettiest you've 
got, and I suppose she'd better be relatively fresh. Not one that's straight 
off fittings duty I'm going to need her to be able to move! Training Room I 
please, ten minutes." 

He set off purposefully through the Palace corridors, and took an 
unobtrusive looking lift down to the bowels of the building. Here a voice 
command allowed him into a large, well equipped room, where he busied 
himself preparing some equipment. 

A few moments later, the door buzzed, and a guard pushed a naked young woman 
into the room. Jed was pleased to see that she was particularly stunning. 
Bushy red hair, beautiful green eyes, and big firm tits with huge nipples. 
She threw herself hurriedly at Jed's feet, and stayed there, awaiting 
instruction. 

Jed ran a foot down the small of her back. 

"You're honored, slut," he said. "The President's going to fuck you 
tonight." 

Was that a tremor he saw running down the prostrate spine? "Have you ever 
been fucked by the President before." 

"No, Master." 

"I suppose you've heard how he-likes his women, though." 

"Yes, Master." 

"So you're very privileged, aren't you?" Again the timid assent. 

Suddenly, Jed tossed the woman onto her back with his foot, and knelt down 
astride her waist, leaning forward to stroke her luscious hair and look into 
her frightened eyes. 

"What's your name?" he asked. 

The girl was very surprised. No-one had used or asked for her name in years. 

"Linetta, Sir." 

"Linetta little bird how pretty! Well," Jed felt a huge rush of sadistic 
pleasure as he squeezed one of her tits roughly. "I'm going to enjoy making 
you sing!" 

He started by lashing her wrists together with rope, throwing the rope over 
a hook against a thick, floor to ceiling pillar, and hoisting her up against 
it with her arms stretched taught above her head and her tits pressed up 
against the cold metal. Then he pulled her ankles around to the other side 
of the pillar and tied them together, so that she was straddling it forced 
to hug it with her legs like some huge phallus-completely clear of the 
floor, strung up on the hook like a carcass. He looped some more rope around 
her waist, pulling her ultra tight against the post, so her pussy and tits 
were pressed even closer to it, and she could hardly wriggle at all. 

Keen to get started in a nice primitive, straightforward way, he grabbed the 
first whip which came to hand a three foot cat-of-about-twelve-tails and 
proceeded to whip Linetta's back, buttocks, arms and legs non stop for the 
better part of half an hour. Her screams aroused him so much, he was soon 
rock hard and ready for relief, but he deliberately restrained himself. 
After all, there were several hours of this to go. 

After a little break he undid her ankles and the rope at her waist, swung 
her round 180 degrees, and then tied her ankles back behind the pillar 
again. This was a much more painful and strenuous position, and had the 
added advantage that he could see her face while he whipped her. Another 
thirty minutes and her exposed tits and belly and the fronts of her arms and 
thighs were as striped and red as the rest of her. 

Next he amused himself with practicing his aim with a crop on her nipples. 
This was obviously excruciatingly painful, even when he missed the bulls 
eyes. 

"You do squeal," he admonished her after about twenty strokes. 

"We're only just beginning, you know!" 

Deciding that she needed some nice, deep weals on her, he chose a thin cane 
next and walloped the tops of her tits, her stomach and her thighs with it, 
pleased to see a pattern start to spring up. 

After this, Jed let the girl free and spent an hour or so doing things like 
having her crawl round the floor directed by a dildo up her cunt which was 
on the end of a long pole (Jed often 'walked' slaves in public in this way), 
and generally testing her obedience and experimenting with the most 
humiliating positions he could think of. 

Then he threw her down onto a specially designed mat of coarse bristles 
which dug into her back but didn't get in his way, and fucked her in the 
crudest, hardest way he could. 

"Now," he said, when he'd recovered. "I'm feeling a bit peckish, so I think 
I'll go and have a nice long lunch somewhere. Hmm. What shall we have you 
doing while I'm away?" 

The room in which Jed was occupied was packed with equipment and suitable 
clothing, and after a little nosing around, Jed came up with the following 
scenario. 

Linetta was instructed to don a black, one piece cat suit made of thick 
rubber. It was so tight, it got pulled over her curves with some difficulty 
and she started sweating heavily underneath it almost as soon as she'd put 
it on. 

It included gloves and built in high heels, but had an entertaining hole 
over the buttocks and cunt which allowed for bare skin punishment and access 
to the orifices. 

A crushing rubber hood was then pulled over her head and the integral 
inflatable rubber gag inflated to maximum. Blind, deaf and very hot, she was 
led up to the piece of equipment with which she would become intimately 
acquainted over the next few hours. 

It was a mini escalator, running downwards. A bit more difficult than a 
normal treadmill, it meant whoever was attached to it had to climb endlessly 
up foot high stairs, at whatever speed the contraption happened to be set 
at. 

A strategically positioned hook directly above the moving stairway served as 
an anchor point for Linetta's shackled wrists. A heavy metal band around her 
waist carried four lengths of chain which were attached to points in the 
floor and kept her in place. 

An essential final touch was an automatic caning device which Jed wheeled 
over and fixed in place. This would apply a steady stream of inescapable 
strokes on the mounds of buttock flesh protruding from the tight rubber 
costume and help ensure that those stairs kept being climbed. 

With Linetta positioned nicely on the bottom step, Jed turned the escalator 
on and watched approvingly as rubber clad legs began to work and stretch and 
get some delightfully unwanted exercise. The taut chains made it impossible 
for her to do anything other than keep climbing. If she faltered or tripped 
she bashed her shins painfully on the edges of the steps. She could get a 
few moments of relief by lifting her legs and hanging by her wrists from the 
hook, but this also was painful, and it didn't stop the endless mechanical 
caning which tormented her whatever she tried to do. 

Jed set the escalator on quite a fast speed to begin with, enjoying the idea 
of getting her really working hard and sweating profusely under the thick 
rubber. Before leaving however, he turned it down so she was only walking 
and not running up the stairs even so it was a brisk pace, something like 
that of a lively military march, and would certainly get her nice and 
exhausted, without totally doing her in. 

"Bye for now," he said as he left. "I shall think of you struggling down 
here on your own, as I enjoy a nice relaxed drink and a meal. Have fun!" 

Imagine what it was like for poor Linetta as the minutes crept slowly by, 
and she suffered endlessly in her hot, sweaty suit, completely blinded, 
mouth straining with rubber gag, totally at the mercy of the heartless cane 
and punishing staircase. Her thighs soon ached horribly, and her ass already 
caned so hard previously by Jed in person, and then squashed down onto those 
cruel bristles when he'd fucked her-was burning like it had never burned 
before. 

On and on she climbed in her high heels, arms above her head, huge tits 
squashed into tight rubber moulds. For two and a half hours she struggled, 
with no one watching her, but two men Jed over a deliberately prolonged 
lunch, and the President in a meeting, unaware of the details, but well 
aware of the various possibilities having her suffering very much on their 
minds! 

The afternoon proved even more testing. Jed had a field day, trying a 
variety of bondage positions and methods of punishment, and particularly 
concentrating on keeping Linetta moving getting her so exhausted that she 
was virtually fainting, and then making her move some more. 

He made a point of testing her user-friendliness as he went along. "Does 
this hurt." 

"Aaargh! Yes, Master." 

"Do you want another one." 

"Um yes, Master." 

"That's right, you do. Here you are then." 

"Ooooww! Thank you, Master." 

"Is it a privilege to suffer for the President." 

"Yes, Master." 

"If I asked you to go through all this again tomorrow, would you do it." 

"Y yes, Master." 

"Of course you would. This is the very reason for your existence, isn't it? 
You can't think of a single thing you'd rather be doing today isn't that a 
fact?" 

"Yes, Master." 

"Why are you looking so grumpy? You should be joyful!" 

"Yes, Master! I'm sorry, Master." 

"Now beg me to fuck your butt." 

"Please, Master. Please fuck my butt, Master." 

"Well, maybe, I might. Beg harder." m 

"Please, Master, I'm begging you to please, please fuck my butt." 

"Pardon? Didn't quite catch that." 

"Master, please fuck my butt. Please, Master, I'm begging you to fuck my 
butt!" 

"How hard do you want me to fuck it?" 

"Oh, please fuck my butt really hard, Master. Please fuck it as hard as you 
can." 

"Well, since you insist, I will. But I think you ought to pay for the honor 
first. I think you ought to suffer a little in exchange for the privilege. 
Bring me that whip in your teeth, please. Good. Now insist that I whip you 
before your bumhole gets the attention it craves so much." 

"M Master, please whip me before my bumhole gets the attention it craves. 
Please make me pay for it, Master." 

"Good, good. But where's your pleasure, my girl? I want to see ecstatic 
happiness on your face and I shouldn't have to keep reminding you." 

"Oh, Master, I am happy to serve you! Please whip me as hard as you like, 
whenever you like! Please fuck my butt just as hard as you can! Please, 
please, Master, I'll be so happy if you abuse me." 

"Better. Don't you ever forget how happy you are! Now lie down and show me 
your cunt. I'll give you a few hundred strokes on it that should make you 
really grateful and then we'll see how welcoming that tight little hole of 
yours is, eh?" 

Eventually, when virtually a whole day of exertion and punishment and sexual 
use had passed, Jed called a halt, and sat down on a chair to rest. He felt 
exhausted himself from all the whipping and caning and fucking he'd done! 

Glancing at his watch, he picked up a phone and called the President's 
private suite. 

"Ready if you are," he said, and, nodding, dropped the phone again. He 
looked at the Linetta, who was at that moment lying naked on the floor after 
a final hour or so of whip driven exercises such as press ups, sit ups and 
high kicks. 

"Time to go." 

Grabbing her by an ankle, he proceeded to drag her across the floor towards 
the door. She protested a little as her many welts and bruises rubbed and 
bounced painfully on the cold flooring. 

"Shut up," Jed snapped, though in reality he didn't mind at all if she was 
vocal. It added to the overall effect. 

Along a corridor, up in the lift, along another corridor, up a few steps, 
and across a hallway, he dragged her, battered and naked, as a caveman might 
have dragged a dead animal home across the plains. He knocked on the 
President's door, entered, and dragged Linetta into the great man's 
presence, depositing her at his feet with a flourish. 

They stood and looked down on her together. There was hardly an inch of her 
body that was unmarked what had started off lily white was now beautifully 
decorated with shades of red, blue and purple. She was dripping with sweat, 
mixing just a little, here and there, with blood from a particularly deep 
cut. Her hair was wet and disheveled, her face a tear smeared mess. She was 
panting and sobbing totally exhausted, totally broken in body and spirit. 

"Very nice," the President commented eventually. "Thank you, Jed." 

Noting the thickness in his superior's voice, Jed prepared to withdraw 
quickly. The President had been waiting all day for this, and was no doubt 
anxious to start. 

"Just one question," the President asked, as Jed headed for the door. "Have 
you had her yourself?" 

The first time the President had asked him this, Jed had been anxious about 
making the wrong response, but now he knew he had no need to worry. 

"Oh yes," he replied. "Several times." 

A smile grew on the President's face, and the last thing Jed saw as he left 
the room was a trouser belt buckle being purposefully undone. 

* * * 

TIME TO GO HOME 

It was the day before Luke was due to leave Hedonia. He had been up half the 
night, pacing and thinking, and morning found him still in turmoil, still 
undecided. 

The urge to stay on Hedonia was so all-consuming, he found it almost 
impossible to resist. He had not dared say anything about his feelings to 
Jed, the President, or anyone else, but today, the final, formal meeting 
between himself and his hosts was due, and he knew that if he was going to 
raise the matter with them, it had to be now. Tomorrow, the ship would come 
for him and it would be too late. It was decision time. 

Never had Luke experienced such a dreadful internal battle. It was head 
versus cock; do your duty versus give in to lust and pleasure. He wanted to 
stay SO MUCH!! And yet deep down he knew it was impossible. He couldn't risk 
it. He couldn't throw everything away. 

Throwing himself on his disheveled bed, the United Planets Emissary and 
Ambassador actually wept with confusion and frustration. 

When the time came for his meeting, he pulled himself together, washed and 
dressed in his most formal clothes, and headed for the conference room in a 
black mood of despair and resignation. He would return to his j ob and 
report everything he had experienced everything, including the impassioned 
plea from Bunny and leave someone else to worry about what to do. Yes, he 
would return to his home and his desk, and try his best to come to terms 
with life without user-friendly women. He cursed the day he had set foot on 
this planet! It was like being shown paradise and then being turned away. 

The President and Jed rose to greet him from behind a broad conference 
table, both looking sombre. 

There was not a single female fitting or woman of any description in the 
room with them, a fact which brought a lump to Luke's throat. It's over, he 
thought, and for a moment was tempted again to throw himself on the mercy of 
these two men and beg to stay. But the air of formality made him think of 
his duty to his own superiors, and he knew the plea would never be made. 

There was a moment of hesitant silence before Jed made an effort to smile at 
Luke. 

"You look rough this morning," he commented. "It must be a difficult time 
for you." 

Luke looked up without speaking, and wondered if Jed guessed something of 
his personal dilemma. 

"There's something the President wants to say to you," Jed went on, when 
Luke continued to say nothing. "I, um, I do hope you won't take it too 
badly." 

The President cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. Finally, he 
spoke, his tone friendly but troubled. 

"Luke, my friend, you've been the perfect visitor. We've enjoyed having you 
here so much; the whole exercise has gone even better than we'd hoped. I 
personally have a great respect for you, and you must believe me when I say 
that I have no wish to hurt you, and very much regret the decision we have 
been forced to make." 

Luke was listening attentively now, suddenly apprehensive. 

"I'm afraid to say," the President continued, after taking a deep breath, 
"that we cannot allow you to go home, or in fact to leave this planet. You 
see, we haven't been entirely honest with you. Your visit was a bit of an 
experiment on our part; we had a hidden agenda." 

The President and Jed were watching Luke closely, but they couldn't guess at 
his emotions. "We cannot allow you to leave this planet!" he was hearing, 
over and over, in his head. So much for dilemma! So much for decisions! He 
was staying after all! If he hadn't been so ecstatically happy, he would 
have laughed at the irony of it. 

And then he caught the President's eye, and felt apprehensive again. What if 
they meant to ? No, he couldn't believe they would kill him. 

"So what are you going to do with me?" he asked tensely. 

"Oh, good heavens, we're not going to harm you! You can spend the rest of 
your life here in luxury and comfort. Anything you wish for will be yours. 
Only you can't leave, or have any contact with the outside world. We'll 
concoct a cover story to ensure no-one will come looking for you. You'll 
have to rethink your whole future, though." 

Luke kept his expression blank. 

"What about the hidden agenda? What was it?" 

The President sighed, and turned to Jed. "Show him the tape." 

Jed pressed some buttons and a screen slid into view on one wall of the 
room. A moment later he was watching himself fucking Kitty and Pussy in what 
he'd thought of as his private bedroom. The film slipped into fast forward, 
and a succession of highly personal images were displayed for all to see. 
Including the times he'd indulged in not only fucking, but tormenting and 
punishing a little, the various women on offer. 

"It must have occurred to you that you were being watched," said Jed. "Your 
reactions were vital to us; the whole future of the planet depended on 
them!" 

Luke shook his head, stunned. "But all that was sorted out. It didn't matter 
what I did privately." 

"Not what you did, no. But what you thought and what you said about 
everything you'd seen. You were a sort of test case the average outworlder. 
Your impressions and conclusions could be considered as indicative of what 
millions of others would think about our way of life and thus of whether 
Hedonia could ever be accepted into the intergalactic 

IS community. We've read all your reports, and been impressed by your 
impartial coverage but we sensed you had doubts, and we had to be sure." 

"I don't understand." 

Another familiar image came into view. It was a relative close up of himself 
sitting on a park bench, with Bunny kneeling at his feet and crying, and 
telling him all about how horrible life on Hedonia really was for women. 

Luke's jaw dropped. "So that episode was a test?" 

"I'm afraid so," the President answered him. "We told her exactly what to 
say to you, and it seems she was convincing. But the whole encounter was a 
set up. None of what she said was true." 

"If you'd mentioned it to us, it would be different," Jed explained. "But, 
since you didn't, we couldn't be sure whether or not you'd believed her, or 
what you planned to do when you returned to your world." 

"You do understand," the President added, quite plaintively. "You pose too 
much of a risk to our way of life here. We can't let you go, so long as 
there's any doubt in your mind as to which of the two explanations you've 
heard about our way of life ours or Bunny's is the correct one." 

Luke sat in silence, trying to think. 

Hedonia was apparently eager to join the Council of United Planets so the 
message they wanted him to take back was that their culture was humane and 
unflawed. They needed their way of life to be accepted, and not questioned, 
so that they could enter into trade with their neighbors without fear of 
recrimination or restriction. 

So why deliberately 'test' him with a situation that sowed doubts in his 
mind, and therefore led to his being detained? It didn't make sense. It only 
made sense if Bunny had been telling the truth, and Hedonia really had 
something to hide. 

He thought about all the compliant women he'd fucked in the last month. And 
the fear on Bunny's face, and the way he'd been manipulated by these two 
men. 

"So which is the correct interpretation of events?" he asked eventually. 

Jed turned his eyes away from Luke's gaze. "I think you know the answer to 
that question," he said poignantly, "deep down." 

* * * 

THE END
