Agent in Distress Ch. 05

Lana laughed, shaking her head. "No, uh, forget what I said. We have lots of men like you . . . they're everywhere, like pests. Can't get rid of them." She made a motion with her arm, like waving away a fly.

The warrior frowned, looking down at her. Lana paled. "It--it was a joke!" she blurted. Then she reddened when she saw him grinning at her.

"Let's continue with your examination, shall we?" said Warrick, with a mischievous expression. "Think of me as a local magistrate, someone like Max."

"Oh god," said Lana, rolling her eyes. Then she tensed. "W-what are you doing?" she said in alarm as the warrior went down on one knee in front of her.

"I'm already familiar with your upper half," said the warrior without looking up at her. Wearing only the tiny white bikini bottom, Lana felt terribly exposed with his face down at her hip level, and her hands came around from behind her to cover herself as best she could.

"Place your hands behind your back," commanded Warrick.

"Why? What are you doing?" protested Lana, not wanting to comply.

"The local magistrate will want to examine you thoroughly," said Warrick, shrugging his shoulders as if discussing the weather.

Lana suddenly moved away. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, holding up a hand as if to ward him off. "Please Warrick, this is too much. No one's ever . . . examined me down there!"

The warrior stood, sighing with exasperation. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Lana, I see I have not been doing my duty. You need this training, your life could depend on it. I am going to be hard on you, or we'll be here all day. No go and kneel there on the mat, slave," commanded the warrior, his eyes not leaving hers. "You must respond quickly to orders!" he added when she didn't immediately move.

Shocked a bit by his tone, Lana quickly moved to the square mat that lay on the wooden platform. His change in tone from affable protector to barking slave master was sudden and shocking to her. Rather than complain, she decided to play along. Somehow it was easier with him playing the role this way.

Lana was not used to kneeling, so she sat awkwardly on the mat and tried to imitate the way she'd seen the local girls do it. With a grunt of disapproval, Warrick was suddenly moving around behind her, taking her heels and turning them outward. She jumped when he then placed his hands on her hips, moving her into the proper position. When he was satisfied by her position, he moved back in front of her again; he now towered over her, so he pulled up a short stool and sat on it.

"Back straight!" he commanded, snapping her out of her slouch into an upright position that pushed her breasts outward suggestively. "Good, now spread your thighs."

"Warrick!" gasped Lana at the crude suggestion.

"Follow my commands, Lana," he said gently. Seeing her frown, he explained. "My dear, in Gorum, they will whip you for little things, like refusing to call them Master. You will want to avoid anything that saps your strength. For your own sake, try to address me as Master."

Lana made a face, but answered, "Yes, Master." He frowned at her slightly sarcastic tone.

"Yes, Master," she repeated with a sigh, but without the sarcasm. Then she widened her thighs a bit. Warrick frowned, reaching forward to place a large hand on each of her knees. His touch was electric, focusing her attention on his face, but when his hands firmly spread her knees wide, she gasped, blushing at the feeling of being exposed before him. The juncture between her thighs felt moist, her desire growing each minute that went by without the salve to cool it down. With Warrick this close to her, she found her mind preoccupied with imagining what he could do to her, where he might touch her. It was exactly the wrong thing to think about, but somehow she couldn't stop herself.

"Acceptable," said Warrick, snapping her out of her daydream. "Now stand up," he commanded. Quickly, Lana got to her feet, wondering what he was doing.

"Now sit again, in the same position I taught you," he said, gesturing toward the mat. "You must be able to quickly adopt this position on command." Lana sat again, tucking her legs under her, straightening her back. "Wider," commanded Warrick, gesturing toward the gap between her thighs. "Wider," he said again, looking impatient. Lana widened her thighs with a blush. It was humiliating, the position he'd taught her; it made her feel . . . like a slave girl, on display for a man's pleasure. "That's better," said Warrick, finally approving. "Push your breasts out a bit more, like you're offering them to me," he added.

It went a bit too far for Lana, to be reminded of her humiliation. "This is obscene!" she burst out, suddenly getting to her feet looking at him with an angry expression. "I think you are enjoying this a bit too much!"

Warrick looked at her. The fiery young woman never ceased to surprise him. She may have been dressed as a slave, but she was a warrior on the inside. "Lana," he said with a sigh. "I understand this is hard for you, that no woman is treated this way on your world. But if this mission is to succeed, you need to learn how to act like a native. Dellune girls, even free ones, would obey to avoid the whip."

Lana shook her head. "No, they wouldn't! This obedience thing may be nothing to you men, but to us, it's demeaning! I'd choose the whip," she added, defiant. Seeing his exasperated look, she backed off a bit. "I'm sorry for being difficult, Warrick," she said. "But I think I've proven I can act in character already, there's no need to continue with this, no matter how amusing you find it. It will be humiliating enough when I go through it for real. There's no need to act it out now."

Warrick was shaking his head. "Lana, you have not even come close to showing me you can act in character when the time comes. I will determine that, not you. You still have no idea what you will experience as a slave in Gorum."

Lana huffed, arms crossed below her chest. "Oh, of course I do! Skimpy costumes, kneeling submissively, sticking my breasts out. I'm sure I'll have to deal with some groping by clumsy, crude men! Men are the same on every world, I assure you."

Warrick suddenly looked angry. "Are you comparing me to the men of your world, woman?" he demanded. "Perhaps the men were right, I've gone soft." His demeanor shocked her out of her tirade, and she suddenly felt uncertain.

"Well, I didn't mean . . ." she stammered, taking a half step back on the mat. Despite her powerful abilities, Lana felt vulnerable so close to the warrior and his rippling muscles. She felt like he could tear her apart at any moment if he so chose. It wasn't a rational thought, more of a deep-seated instinctual reaction in the presence of such a powerful male.

"I know you don't fear me, so this is difficult. I'm afraid I will have to act like a Dellune slaver to properly train you," he said, moving slightly closer and making Lana nervous.

"I-I don't think that's necessary," stammered Lana. While it was true she didn't fear him, she did not want him to act out of character. She liked the charming, protective Warrick she knew, or thought she knew.

"It is necessary, and I apologize for having to do this," said Warrick softly. He looked almost pained, and Lana suddenly felt empathy for him. Then his expression hardened. "Now then, slave," he said, in a hard voice so convincing that Lana suddenly grew anxious. "It's time to teach you a lesson or two," commanded the warrior, crossing his hands on his broad chest. "Strip off your top."

"Wh-what?" choked out Lana, looking at the large man as if he'd sprouted an extra arm.

"You heard me, slave," said Warrick, not moving his arms. "You may keep your underwear, for now, but strip off that top. If I have to command you a third time, it will be the whip."

"The whip?" said Lana, her eyes wide and searching his for hint of humor or teasing. He was acting, wasn't he? "Warrick, I understand what you're doing, but this isn't really necessary . . ."

"You will address me as Master, slave," said the warrior, with no hint of irony or humor.

When Lana didn't answer, Warrick frowned, then he simply turned, moved over to the wall behind the wooden chair. Lana's attention was drawn to the wall, where she saw dozens of implements hung by leather cords. Warrick selected a wicked looking leather whip, with long leather strings, then turned to face her, the whip idly slapping against his palm, making a heavy sound of leather on skin. Lana's mouth fell open. Was he fooling around? He couldn't possibly plan to use that on her.

"Go to that station, slave; strip off your top and await your punishment," said Warrick, gesturing toward the wooden platform with manacles dangling above it. Lana was frozen in place as Warrick moved toward her, then he flicked his wrist, and she felt a stinging slap of leather on her bottom, causing her to yelp in surprise more than pain. Her hands flashed to her bottom, rubbing gently against the soft material of the panties, looking warily up at the stern-faced warrior. But when he lifted the whip again, she quickly raised her hands.

"No, don't!" she said, grateful when his hand froze. "Very well, I will do it." With fumbling fingers, Lana removed her top. Yet when it was off, she looked up in embarrassment at the warrior gazing expectantly down at her, the top held against her bare chest. Now she wasn't wearing anything except her white panties, which explained why she couldn't seem to get her fingers to let go of her top.

She suddenly saw a break in Warrick's stoic visage. "Lana, on our world, modesty is a luxury of rich, free women. It's nothing I haven't seen before, go ahead," he added, gesturing at her chest. It was just enough encouragement for Lana, and she reluctantly forced her fingers to let go. Yet as the top fell to the floor by her ankles, she couldn't help her arm folding across her breasts, her other hand moving to cover the slim panties between her thighs. She knew from experience that men would become very pliable if you showed them a little skin. However when she looked at Warrick, he didn't look the least bit distracted, in fact he was gesturing impatiently.

"Place your hands behind your back," commanded the warrior, in a tone that left no room for discussion.

"I will not," she protested with her arms still covering herself. "You said nothing about doing the training naked!"

He didn't answer her, instead, he tucked the whip in his belt, then with startling quickness, he grabbed her arm and yanked it over her head. "What are you doing?" yelped Lana, looking up over her head to see what he was doing. When she saw him reaching for a leather manacle, she began struggling, her free hand pushing uselessly against his broad chest, while his iron grip held her wrist so that he could attach a leather manacle to it. When he let go and stepped back, she quickly pulled her free arm back to cover her bare chest, her other wrist pulling on the leather strap that held it fixed high over her head. It had all happened too quickly for her to think to use her powers, but now she was ready for him. When he reached for her arm, she quickly focused her mind and stopped him in his tracks, his outstretched arm held almost comically in mid-air, reaching for her.

"Hell!" exclaimed the confused warrior, staring in confusion at his frozen arm. "How on Dellune do you do that, woman?"

Lana grinned. In truth, she'd never been able to do that very effectively before; the fruit had given her such power. She kept that fact to herself, however, only nodding. "You may find I'm not as helpless as the females you're used to, milord," she mocked.

"Indeed," nodded Warrick, still trying to move his frozen arm. "Might I have my arm back so that your training can continue?" When Lana hesitated, he added. "You did give me your word, did you not? We have precious little time to waste in testing each other's will. Your mission is too important to risk in petty squabbling, don't you agree?"

The reminder of her mission gave her pause. Finally Lana relented. "Very well, but I expect you to stick to the training plan, and not take detours for your own amusement."

The warrior's eyes narrowed as they often did when he was about to scold her, but he thought better of it. "I don't know what a de-tour is, but I take your meaning," he said, his voice sounding . . . unenthusiastic.

Then his armed dropped suddenly, released from her mind's grip. Without a moment's waste, or perhaps before she could change her mind, he moved to her and grabbed her free arm. In seconds, both her arms were tied high over her head, and she blushed deeply for her breasts were now fully displayed, forced to an upright and prominent display by the position of her arms. They also looked uncharacteristically large from her viewpoint, and she hoped that was her posture and not the effect of the fruit. The warrior wasn't staring at her breasts, however, instead he was bending down to take one of her ankles. "No, what are you doing?" cried out Lana, too late trying to pull her leg from his grip. Her ankle was fastened already, the leather strap attached to the floor by a thin chain that left her only a few inches of leeway. Without using her mind again, there was little she could do to stop him from grabbing her other ankle next, and pulling her legs apart so he could fasten the leather to it. When he was done, he stood and took a step back.

"Much better," said Warrick, his eyes taking in her squirming form. With her ankles fixed in place, Lana found it difficult to close her thighs completely, and she found it humiliating to be forced into that position. She reddened in shame, unsure if she was grateful that the man to see her this way was Warrick. Perhaps an anonymous stranger would be easier to take. All her struggling was putting on quite a display for the warrior, and Lana stopped moving when she realized he was watching her intently. "Well," said the warrior, "now that you are properly restrained, let's see to that punishment."

"Punishment?" squeaked Lana, looking up at him suddenly. She paled when she saw him pull the whip from his belt, then she stiffened when he unfurled the leather strings, letting them dangle in the air. "You're still going to punish me? Is this part of the training?"

"Oh yes," nodded the warrior, taking a step toward her. "You have disobeyed my orders several times, and failed to address your master properly despite a warning. For these things you must be properly punished, as would any slave."

She couldn't believe he was serious, but from the look in his eyes, Lana realized he was going to really do . . . something. She couldn't believe he would actually strike her with a whip . . . perhaps she had better apologize? She feared the embarrassment more than the whip. She wanted Warrick to see her as the strong warrior she was. If he whipped her like a slave, would he still see her that way? "I'm sorry, Master!" said Lana suddenly, her voice tinged with nervousness. "I won't do it again."

Warrick looked at her and smiled. "Excellent, slave. You are learning. You must apologize to your master, that is good. But you must also learn that apologies will not let you escape your punishments." Then he reached out and turned her sideways away from him. She wondered what he was doing, when she suddenly felt his fingers at the small of her back, as he pulled down her panties to expose her bare bottom. She was stunned.

"Put those back!" she blurted, her face red with indignation. Warrick ignored her, but he was looking behind her--at her ass, she realized with a thrill. Suddenly she felt his hand on her ass cheek, squeezing and feeling her flesh. Lana could not believe he was doing this to her, and even worse, her body was responding with arousal rather than fear.

"Your ass is round and shapely, quite unexpected in a female warrior," said Warrick, chuckling as she squirmed and blushed. "Don't worry, it's not the type of whip which will scar your flesh."

Lana stiffened. "You're not really going to . . . hit me with that thing?" she asked, incredulous. He didn't answer, but his hand left her, and then she heard a snap, and then a fire seemed alight on her bottom, making her gasp and arch her back. Lana craned her head in time to see the warrior moving his arm to strike her again. Without thinking, she reached out with her mind, and froze the whip in mid-air.

"Lords!" exclaimed the warrior, confused for a second at why he couldn't seem to move the whip from where it hung in the air, his impressive bicep flexing in vain. Then he turned to glare down at the girl. "Just moments ago you promised not to use your powers!" he bellowed angrily, his free arm gripping her upper arm almost painfully.

"And you promised to stick to the training! I did not agree to this," shot back Lana, returning his angry glare. "If you insist on breaking our agreement, I am justified in stopping you! You are stronger than me in body, but I have my mind as my weapon." Lana's mind ripped the whip from his hand and threw it across the room, where it landed with a satisfying crash against a rack of implements. Warrick shot her a look that spoke of determination, and she returned it with a look of satisfaction that said she wasn't going to let him play his games at her expense. The warrior stared down at her for a long moment, then he shrugged.

"Since you so rudely took my whip, I'll just have to use my hand," said the warrior.

Lana frowned for a second, but when he raised his open hand behind her, comprehension came to her. "Y-you mean to spank me?" she exclaimed, stunned. It was unheard of on her world, even for unruly children. She was not going to let him do that! Lana was so intent on watching his right hand, that she missed his left hand moving up until he grasped her bare breast. "Warrick!" she cried. Then Lana stiffened and gasped as his fingers took possession of her soft nipple, the sensation shooting through her, rippling down toward her belly. The hand left her nipple to slowly caress and squeeze her breast, then his fingers returned to her nipple again to flick and squeeze the sensitive nub. She struggled in her bindings, but she was helpless to stop him, and with her arms raised high over her head, her breasts were presented like trophies for his hands to do as they pleased.

"S-stop that," murmured Lana, closing her eyes as his hand moved to her other breast. Her flesh felt impossibly sensitive, making his teasing fingers feel like tendrils of sensual fire. "What are you doing?" she said, half question, half plea. The warrior continued calmly and silently, moving leisurely from one breast to the other, stoking her flames, and teasing her nipples into an painfully swollen erectness. Lana quickly realized that under his ministrations, her legs were squirming as well as her torso, for a burning was beginning between her thighs, enhanced by the copious servings of fruit to an abnormal level. She tried to force them closed, but her ankle bindings made that difficult.

"You can't do this," said Lana, between now heavy breaths, as if the air were becoming thinner.

"Oh, as your Master, I can do this . . . and so much more . . ." Lana shivered at his veiled threat. Then she froze, for she saw his free hand raising up again, hovering behind her back. Panicking, Lana reached out with her mind to freeze his hand, but at that very moment, she felt a hard tweak of her swollen nipple, and she cried out. Then a moment later, the hand struck her ass with a loud slapping sound of flesh and flesh. Lana cried out in pain. It was not a terrifying pain that warned of injury, but rather her pride that was suffering.

"How dare you!" she burst out as the pain subsided into a strange warmth that spread through her body. She could not believe he'd spanked her bare bottom with his hand. Her eyes went to the upraised hand, and she watched in satisfaction as his arm moved, his muscles straining against the power of her mind. Then she gasped again, as he tweaked her tender breast. She glared at him. "Do not think you can dismantle my telepathy with your crude touches, Warrick!" she scolded. "I will---Ohh! You--ahh!"