Author’s Note: The following contains mature content that includes sexually explicit, and violent depictions. This project was intended to be read by a mature audience only. Also as a forewarning, scenes of rape, slavery, and even incest are present in parts of this project.
I typically shy away from such topics when I write however, the point of this project was to get across to the reader that things are never what you think they truly are. The protagonist of the story had led a sheltered life and is suddenly thrust into the real universe around her, experiencing the worse it has to offer. In western civilization, we ourselves live a sheltered life from the horrors those outside our protected bubble have to attest to - in many ways it disgusts me how we ignore such plights by looking the other way and it is the main focus of writing this, even if it is the work of science fiction. I do understand if such topics are difficult to read, which is why I provided the forewarning to sensitive readers.
Thank You
The mountain range named after her family’s own house was the very representation of exotic paradise. Spiking out of the ocean like monoliths testament to Sel’Velore’s glory and beauty. With the climate of the comfortable tropics, despite the massive height of these behemoths showed no caps of snow and ice atop but rather the draping vines covered in flowers of all spectrums of color.
Shaped into the sides of these mountains was the villas that housed the prominent family of the ocean world. Roman in architecture with open terraces and extravagant fountain gardens, it gave signal to the prestige and wealth her family possessed. Mira had taken great pride in the personal villa she was assigned to, though colder than the properties of her relatives, she had quick access to the sea and with it the scent of salt that lifted even high into the elevations.
Like all of her family, certain features were selected from birth with genetic engineering. Among the obvious of genetic selections of high intelligence, athleticism and health was the continued traits her ancestors. From what she had learned of her family history, her family hailed from various prominent families in Scandinavia, as such the viking like features of a tall stature, blond hair and light features had been selected to continue to glorify this heritage. Despite her families fascination with their past to the point of vanity, she retained some features of her mother that she was allowed to keep. Among those were the eyes, wider and slightly increased in size by appearance they were a shocking if not violet purple that set her apart from her families typical blue eyes.
Graced with the curves of her mother as well, with a set of maturing hips and bust that leaned towards fertility at a much more inclined rate than her peers she had received the looks that demanded the attention of the masculine sex, if not some of the females as well. Even some of her distant cousins during her adolescence had sought her affections despite the social implications of even such attempts.
She programmed her smart-clothes this particular morning to form that of a toga as she was feeling sentimental to the times of the past and felt the need to blend into the ancient architecture that surrounded, she had even braided her long blond hair with beads of real jade.
As she strolled along the balcony over looking the ocean she could not help but smite at the beauty of the early morning sunrise that graced the ocean in a hue of colors that danced like fire across the pristine sea. It was a sign of good tidings, for it was her birthday and by standards of the house she was legally an adult, even if the age of twenty was considered old by other houses for such a consideration of adulthood.
She thought silently to herself of how she would spend the coming hours, she thought of going to her personal garage and taking a flight on her brand new Aggo-Tek Gravbike. Gravbikes were purely a recreational vehicle in most ways, as the advances in physics had allowed mass transit to become nearly free on most planets. A tunnel consisting of anti-gravitational generators would simply be stepped into, the individual would voice command a destination and the user would be sent to it at what the 21st century would an impossible speed for humans, but the balance of g’s had allowed such travel to occur without even an ounce of discomfort.
The Gravbikes were the same principle of course, but they instead were a seat with two mounted generators that would create their own fixation of gravity and the user would use archaic controls to veer the bike up down, left and right. In fact, despite the G-suit the user wore, the danger itself made Gravbikes only usable by those with the need of the thrill, and on this particular planet, the wealth to afford the permits to use it. Luckily Mira had both as a member of House Del’Var.
Idly she thought of what would be expected of her, all noble houses had rights of passage that were expected to be fulfilled. It was a mystery unlike other greater houses however what house Del’Var expected of their heirs.
Shrugging the thought off she touched the dataring that adorned her left middle finger, the computer activating at her touch and producing a holo interface in front of herself. Using the GUI brightly illuminated in purples and golds of her house signal she called for her head servant to come to her quarters.
Within seconds Camille was called, bowing to the lady of the house as was the protocol of a woman of genetic birthright. The servant was of course a product like herself of genetic manipulation with a heritage that belonged to that of a lesser house that was subservient of her own. In fact, Camille herself was high in society and was poised as an early age to be MIra’s playmate. It is not uncommon for such positions to be filled by warm friends - as the title of head servant was not one of real service, she commanded the house - indeed, she was the second highest in rank in the entire household, even the guards obeyed her command.
Her childhood friend however was almost the polar opposite in contrast to Mira. She was skinny, short with olive toned skin and wiry brown hair that fell short of her shoulders. The woman was in her own regard as radiant as Mira, as was the product of genetic engineering - just of a different flavor.
“You called me m’lady.” She rather pointedly spoke rather than questioned.
“Ah cammy, yes.. drop the protocol for now.” Mira said with a dismissing gesture of her left hand.
“Right. Happy birthday, you old hag.”
“Uh-huh. You’re what, two days younger than me?” Mira mentioned with a roll of the eyes.
“Still younger. So whats the agenda today? Gravbiking down to the Elis Canyon much to the dismay of your uncle? Dressing as a commoner to the port to flock among the plebes and unravel the mystery of this thing called clubbing?” She said in an all too cliche voice to mimic the aristocratic nature of both of their upbringing.
“I thought of something a little more, exciting..”
“No.. no no no, solar winds Mira, the last time we did that you just about had the praetor beat red.”
The lady of the house gave a shrug of disinterest in such ramifications. Her servant sagged her shoulders and gave in, “Fine... I’ll prep the ship. Though they may not respond this time, did you ever hear the story about the boy who cried wolf.
Mira laughed heavily at the notion, “I am not a shepherd's son.. make it sound panicked this time?”
Camille made a mockery of a courtesy and left the room, leaving her thoughts once again to herself. A panicked call about raiders kidnapping the young lady would surely panic the local military commander, calling for a scramble of fights to find her and return her. She had done it a few years ago and the result was a planet wide alert while authorities made a mad dash towards her “stolen” ship’s transponder.
She had programmed her smart-clothes to create an easily removed hogtie of herself on the floor of her ship, than as her ship was secured she started to laugh and the ties were removed. The look on Praetor Vyn Wilisit? Classic, pure classic. Perhaps this time she’ll just be naked, than he could be ever redder than he was previously.
Her lips curled into a smile as the red emergency lights appeared on the sides, her villa’s safe room immediately opening up behind her bed for to her enter, which she ignored. “Intruder Alert, Intruder Alert - Code Black, Code Black.” The alarms of her villa screamed, no doubt panicking her local staff and guards.
Camille worked fast she thought to herself as she reprogrammed her smart-clothes, she thought of a black trench coat with leather leggings would be appropriate for today.
As she turned from her private chamber and back to the terrace she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw a flicker in the air, every alarm in her head from her uncles training went off as clearly as the code black alarms of her villa.
She suddenly dove towards her bed, grabbing the slug pistol that she kept under her pillow. By the time she had chambered the first round however, she felt a piece of cloth pressed up against her lips and then she saw nothing but darkness.
She felt the cold surface of a steel ship’s hull against her face as she woke from her slumber in the cold recognition that this was not a nightmare she had woken from. Very quickly it became apparent that her situation was neither safe nor escapable at the moment. From what Mira had gathered she was in a small cell with no bed and a toilet plus sink combination in the corner, there was also a disturbing fact that she was nude. Had they done things to her she thought idly to herself.
I typically shy away from such topics when I write however, the point of this project was to get across to the reader that things are never what you think they truly are. The protagonist of the story had led a sheltered life and is suddenly thrust into the real universe around her, experiencing the worse it has to offer. In western civilization, we ourselves live a sheltered life from the horrors those outside our protected bubble have to attest to - in many ways it disgusts me how we ignore such plights by looking the other way and it is the main focus of writing this, even if it is the work of science fiction. I do understand if such topics are difficult to read, which is why I provided the forewarning to sensitive readers.
Thank You
Prologue
Shaped into the sides of these mountains was the villas that housed the prominent family of the ocean world. Roman in architecture with open terraces and extravagant fountain gardens, it gave signal to the prestige and wealth her family possessed. Mira had taken great pride in the personal villa she was assigned to, though colder than the properties of her relatives, she had quick access to the sea and with it the scent of salt that lifted even high into the elevations.
Like all of her family, certain features were selected from birth with genetic engineering. Among the obvious of genetic selections of high intelligence, athleticism and health was the continued traits her ancestors. From what she had learned of her family history, her family hailed from various prominent families in Scandinavia, as such the viking like features of a tall stature, blond hair and light features had been selected to continue to glorify this heritage. Despite her families fascination with their past to the point of vanity, she retained some features of her mother that she was allowed to keep. Among those were the eyes, wider and slightly increased in size by appearance they were a shocking if not violet purple that set her apart from her families typical blue eyes.
Graced with the curves of her mother as well, with a set of maturing hips and bust that leaned towards fertility at a much more inclined rate than her peers she had received the looks that demanded the attention of the masculine sex, if not some of the females as well. Even some of her distant cousins during her adolescence had sought her affections despite the social implications of even such attempts.
She programmed her smart-clothes this particular morning to form that of a toga as she was feeling sentimental to the times of the past and felt the need to blend into the ancient architecture that surrounded, she had even braided her long blond hair with beads of real jade.
As she strolled along the balcony over looking the ocean she could not help but smite at the beauty of the early morning sunrise that graced the ocean in a hue of colors that danced like fire across the pristine sea. It was a sign of good tidings, for it was her birthday and by standards of the house she was legally an adult, even if the age of twenty was considered old by other houses for such a consideration of adulthood.
She thought silently to herself of how she would spend the coming hours, she thought of going to her personal garage and taking a flight on her brand new Aggo-Tek Gravbike. Gravbikes were purely a recreational vehicle in most ways, as the advances in physics had allowed mass transit to become nearly free on most planets. A tunnel consisting of anti-gravitational generators would simply be stepped into, the individual would voice command a destination and the user would be sent to it at what the 21st century would an impossible speed for humans, but the balance of g’s had allowed such travel to occur without even an ounce of discomfort.
The Gravbikes were the same principle of course, but they instead were a seat with two mounted generators that would create their own fixation of gravity and the user would use archaic controls to veer the bike up down, left and right. In fact, despite the G-suit the user wore, the danger itself made Gravbikes only usable by those with the need of the thrill, and on this particular planet, the wealth to afford the permits to use it. Luckily Mira had both as a member of House Del’Var.
Idly she thought of what would be expected of her, all noble houses had rights of passage that were expected to be fulfilled. It was a mystery unlike other greater houses however what house Del’Var expected of their heirs.
Shrugging the thought off she touched the dataring that adorned her left middle finger, the computer activating at her touch and producing a holo interface in front of herself. Using the GUI brightly illuminated in purples and golds of her house signal she called for her head servant to come to her quarters.
Within seconds Camille was called, bowing to the lady of the house as was the protocol of a woman of genetic birthright. The servant was of course a product like herself of genetic manipulation with a heritage that belonged to that of a lesser house that was subservient of her own. In fact, Camille herself was high in society and was poised as an early age to be MIra’s playmate. It is not uncommon for such positions to be filled by warm friends - as the title of head servant was not one of real service, she commanded the house - indeed, she was the second highest in rank in the entire household, even the guards obeyed her command.
Her childhood friend however was almost the polar opposite in contrast to Mira. She was skinny, short with olive toned skin and wiry brown hair that fell short of her shoulders. The woman was in her own regard as radiant as Mira, as was the product of genetic engineering - just of a different flavor.
“You called me m’lady.” She rather pointedly spoke rather than questioned.
“Ah cammy, yes.. drop the protocol for now.” Mira said with a dismissing gesture of her left hand.
“Right. Happy birthday, you old hag.”
“Uh-huh. You’re what, two days younger than me?” Mira mentioned with a roll of the eyes.
“Still younger. So whats the agenda today? Gravbiking down to the Elis Canyon much to the dismay of your uncle? Dressing as a commoner to the port to flock among the plebes and unravel the mystery of this thing called clubbing?” She said in an all too cliche voice to mimic the aristocratic nature of both of their upbringing.
“I thought of something a little more, exciting..”
“No.. no no no, solar winds Mira, the last time we did that you just about had the praetor beat red.”
The lady of the house gave a shrug of disinterest in such ramifications. Her servant sagged her shoulders and gave in, “Fine... I’ll prep the ship. Though they may not respond this time, did you ever hear the story about the boy who cried wolf.
Mira laughed heavily at the notion, “I am not a shepherd's son.. make it sound panicked this time?”
Camille made a mockery of a courtesy and left the room, leaving her thoughts once again to herself. A panicked call about raiders kidnapping the young lady would surely panic the local military commander, calling for a scramble of fights to find her and return her. She had done it a few years ago and the result was a planet wide alert while authorities made a mad dash towards her “stolen” ship’s transponder.
She had programmed her smart-clothes to create an easily removed hogtie of herself on the floor of her ship, than as her ship was secured she started to laugh and the ties were removed. The look on Praetor Vyn Wilisit? Classic, pure classic. Perhaps this time she’ll just be naked, than he could be ever redder than he was previously.
Her lips curled into a smile as the red emergency lights appeared on the sides, her villa’s safe room immediately opening up behind her bed for to her enter, which she ignored. “Intruder Alert, Intruder Alert - Code Black, Code Black.” The alarms of her villa screamed, no doubt panicking her local staff and guards.
Camille worked fast she thought to herself as she reprogrammed her smart-clothes, she thought of a black trench coat with leather leggings would be appropriate for today.
As she turned from her private chamber and back to the terrace she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw a flicker in the air, every alarm in her head from her uncles training went off as clearly as the code black alarms of her villa.
She suddenly dove towards her bed, grabbing the slug pistol that she kept under her pillow. By the time she had chambered the first round however, she felt a piece of cloth pressed up against her lips and then she saw nothing but darkness.
Chapter One
With a startling jump she glared at the doorway as it opened to reveal two figures in full military dress that was black in color, their faces also covered by a hood with goggles that even hid their eyes. From the shape of them both it was one female and one male, which in some regard was a relief. If they were independent raiders, they’d likely be male and she’d be passed between the members of the ship like a play thing.
They looked at each other blankety without speaking a word, likely communicating via a cerebral implant. Cybernetics was common among the spacers, especially those not graced with a significant genetic heritage such as herself, if you were not born improved you could pay later on to become one, at the cost of your own humanity of course. Many of her house looked down on the cyborgs of the galaxy as nothing more than machines who had no better function than to grease their own gears. Mira found them to be a plight on nature itself.
The female hoisted her up, Mira could help but blush at the fact that the male of the two was staring at her before nodding at the female to take her along. Mira felt the cold of cuffs placed upon her, archaic but of course still reasonably effective and preventing individuals from getting away. With her feet also cuffed she felt that she would not run away.
A hood was also placed over her head, at least than she thought she would not notice the stares at her body from unwanted eyes, she counted her feet and the direction she took however.
By the hum of the ground and the length it took to reach their destination she knew a few things that most wouldn’t notice. One, they had gone into an elevator and had at least gone up seven levels. Two, they walked far longer than what was typical of a private starship. Three, she could hear boots clink together in salutes. Based on the size, the hum which was a tell-tale sign of most educated individuals of a starship and the behavior these individuals possessed this was a large military ship - perhaps privateers or even one of the more professional mercenary clans that auctioned themselves off. Worse case scenario is they were professional slavers of the Dominion.
She was taken to a center of a large room with five individuals who sat above her in chairs that were more like thrones, as her hood was removed she learned that the worse case scenerio was the truth - it was the dominion. Despite her nudity and shame she held her head high as the judicators regarded the new slave.
At least she knew that the dominion had rules regarding slaves to some degree. For one, slaves could not by law starve or be malnourished. If they required medical attention they were also required by law to provide it to a reasonable degree. Lastly, pleasure slaves and gladiators due to their compromising roles could only be slaves for a period of five years. She blushed for a moment, at the thought of being a pleasure slave but made no sign of weakness or fear - Del’Vars showed no fear.
“Too prideful to be a servant.” A small portly man to her far right said, “She’d likely try to run away.”
“Genetically engineered for beauty - she’d make a good pleasure slave.” A middle aged woman with red hair that was greying off the sides remarked.
“We’d have to induct her into mental conditioning, it would take years and cost too much.” Said a tall handsome and surprisingly young man with olive skin.
“Than we are in agreement.” The seemingly head of the slave council said, a wizardly old man with a beard that nearly covered his entire torso to which he stroked in thought. “Gladiator... take her to the arena. The fans like a pretty lass such as this one before her blood is sprayed across the dirt... perhaps her handler keep her outfit topless, those luscious tits will likely draw more ratings across the net.”
The council laughed as she was dismissed, the hood once again being placed over her head. She felt for a moment a squeeze of her breasts as one of the guards managed to sneak a grope while what she assumed was a shuttle transfer to another ship or space station.
She arrived in what would best be described as a gymnasium but with several racks of primitive weaponry on the side, no doubt the slavers were not afraid of having their own slaves rise against them because of the several guards posted with militarized slug riffles that from the looks of things were almost too ready to fire upon the slaves.
Removing her hood, one of her handlers indicated to a black pair of tights and a woman’s tank top with a single red stripe along the middle. Gratefully she got dressed, the feeling of having clothes upon herself more than a relief - she felt like an animal being dragged from place to place without so much as a shred of clothing to hide herself in.
Just as she finished there was suddenly the alarm of pain that hit the side of her head as an electrified bo staff hit the side of her head. She fell to the ground, holding her head before feeling the crack of one of her ribs as the bow went down on her torso.
With the wind knocked out of her she held her sides as she looked up to see her would be attacker only to find the staff’s metal coming down upon the square of her nose, breaking the cartilage with ease.
Bleeding upon the floor and holding her sides she nearly passed out but willed herself to stay alert. Her attacker lifted her chin up with his staff and grinned wildly at her.
Middle aged with wild blue eyes, this burly man had shaven his head bald to no doubt give himself a more intimidating aura. The scars upon his face and barrel chest revealed the man to either be an ex military or ex gladiator himself - perhaps both, she knew most slaves were young.. like her.
The man looked to her original handlers and laughed, “You sure this isn’t the pleasure slave you sent me Richard? This one looks absolutely fuckable, I don’t think she could fight my cock.”
“Hard to fight something you can’t see Jherek.” Her previously unspeaking guard said before waving the gladiator off, “The ‘other’ slave will be here soon.”
While distracted, something inside herself said not submit, while still handcuffed she was not exactly invulnerable to attack. She swung her arms out to the man’s chin, unbalancing him and sending him to his back, the bo staff in his hands fell from of his hands, grabbing it you lifted it above your head to slam the end against his nose.
Unfortunately Mira, skilled in use of such weapons at a young age was not exactly in the best of condition to fight, with a kick to her stomach just as she spun the bo above her head the man known as Jherek.
Landing on her back she somehow found the willpower to leap to her feet and assume as much of a battle stance with the bo as she could despite the bindings. The guards began to converge on you but stopped at Jherek lifted his hand for them to stop, instead grabbing another bo staff and approaching her.
“Maybe you’re a little more then a fuck hole, show me what you got dove.” Jherek said with a mocking bow of formalities.
That let whatever calm Mira had fly off like a skittering bird, letting out a yell she twirled the bo staff around, intending on extending the energy in the bow to the tip to smash against her opponents head. Jherek calmly but with lighting speed parried the staff away from him before slipping his own staff up the length of hers, activating the current just as it brushed up against the knuckles of her hands to cause her to let go of the staff as she yelped in pain. Grinning, the veteran followed through with the length of bow slamming against the already injured woman's head, sending her spinning to the ground. The heel of his foot was sent down to her already cracked ribs. With realization of the incoming finish she rolled to the side and jumped to her feet once more, crouching lightly as she circled the man, blood dripping down her face and onto the floor. Like a predator, Jherek circled her. "Is that all princess?" He taunted her, "Perhaps you should just get on your kneels and apologize properly." That was the trigger, and unfortunately for Mira - she didn't realize that he was purposely triggering it. Lunging forward towards him, she attempted to use her own chains to choke the man, but her movements gave her away all too quickly. Jherek quickly counter grappled her, putting his large hands to block her mouth and nasal passageways as he joked her. She struggled, her feet moving off the floor in an attempt to brace him away from her but his grip was too strong on her, his balance far from untrained. Within a matter of seconds, she simply passed out. Dropping her to the ground, Jherek nodded approvingly of her actions and looked to one of the other instructors. "Mark her as red, this little bird has some potential." "Yes arena master." His assistant, a small frail looking man with a balding head. that was as out of place here as could possibly be replied.
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