Agent in Distress Ch. 08

"Your lips lie to me, but your body speaks the truth," said the magistrate, reaching up a hand to her breasts, but only gesturing at her, not touching. All the while, the two helpers were continuing to torment the squirming, softly moaning slave girl. Mara would clench her thighs, and the men would gently but firmly slap her, a warning to spread her legs. One of the men took her in a deep kiss again, and a soft helpless moan escaped the woman's throat.

"Please, stop tormenting the poor girl!" said Lana, pleading, for her own sake as much as for Mara.

The magistrate leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Admit the truth, and I will stop. Admit what is obvious to everyone in this room, that your body burns to be touched as she is."

Lana shook her head in misery. "No, please, I cannot do that!"

The magistrate shrugged, gesturing to the two men. In unison, they moved their heads up to Mara's chest, each one taking a quivering breast into his lips. One man moved a hand down behind her, the other moved a hand between her thighs, doing unseen things. Mara cried a tortured cry that made Lana shiver with need. She knew the torment Mara was experiencing, but being forced to watch, without being touched, was a new torture, and she wasn't sure which was worse.

"Poor Mara," said the magistrate. "What she really needs is a long, thick manhood inside her, don't you think?" he said the Lana, who glared at him in horror. "Men, give her what she needs."

Lana watched in horror as one of the men stood, unbuckling his belt. She saw a change in poor Mara, an anticipation, and to her surprise, her own body clenched in sympathetic need.

"No!" cried Lana. "Stop this, I---I'll admit it!"

The magistrate looked at her, amused. "Admit what, slave?"

Lana grimaced, but she was determined to spare poor Mara. "I admit . . . to failing the first stage."

The magistrate wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily. "So you admit you don't find this scene disgusting, that you in fact are aroused by seeing your fellow slave being touched?

Lana hated the way he was calling her a slave, but rather than argue, she simply nodded. "Yes, I admit it."

"Would a free woman be aroused by this?" said the magistrate.

Lana gaped at him. "Yes! Maybe . . . I don't know," she said.

The magistrate gestured to the men. "Continue, men, the subject seems confused."

"No!" protested Lana. "Alright, no, a free woman would not be aroused by . . . this."

"Excellent," said the magistrate. "You do not fully believe what you are saying, that is normal. In time you will understand. Let us move on to the next stage. Mara, thank you for your help, you may return to your station," he said, gesturing to the floor next to Paya. Without a word, Mara moved to kneel next to Paya, but her disappointment was clear, to the shock of Lana. She shivered, loath to imagine a world where women eagerly awaited their own defilement.

"What is the next stage?" said Lana, wary.

"It is good that you ask," said the magistrate, his compliment making Lana cringe as always. "It is all well and good that you desire to be a slave," he said, ignoring Lana's contorted expression. "But to be useful as a pleasure slave, your body must also be willing, and responsive. We will test that."

Lana stiffened. She couldn't have them touching her like they did Mara, in her heated state. She protested. "You can't do that -- the fruit has made me unnaturally . . . sensitive. It's not a fair test!"

The magistrate paused. "What would you have me do? We did not force you to eat the fruit."

"Delay the test until the fruit's effect has worn off," said Lana. She didn't have much hope he'd agree to that, but the magistrate had shown some adherence to logic.

"How much did you eat?" said the magistrate. "A few wedges of fresh Somarian fruit can last a couple days."

Lana blanched. "I . . . I think I ate six or seven . . ."

"Wedges?" said the magistrate.

Lana shook her head. "No, whole fruits."

The magistrate frowned. Then he burst out laughing. "Some generous hosts, to feed you so much, it must have cost a fortune!"

"How long will it last??" demanded Lana, impatient.

"That much? It is said there will be some permanent effect if two fruits are eaten in one day." His eyes narrowed, and she realized he was looking at her breasts. "Were you always so amply endowed?"

Lana blushed pink. "No!" she cried. Her eyes looked at him pleadingly. "Will . . . will that be permanent?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," said the magistrate. "Do not fret, they look magnificent. And thanks to all the fruit you've eaten, they will remain exquisitely sensitive, despite their size."

Lana moaned. Permanent? She couldn't believe it. Her breasts had grown a full size, maybe more. She'd gone from having perfect athletic breasts to looking like the kind of girl who adorned posters in the soldiers' locker room. And what of her abilities? Would her amplified powers be permanent? Or had she overloaded herself, and done permanent damage? She didn't think so, somehow she could sense her abilities were still there, only exhausted for the moment. Then she remembered something.

"The ointment, you were going to tell me what its purpose is."

The magistrate gave her a grin. "Ah yes, you used that as well." Then he raised his eyebrows. "That's it, we will let you apply your salve, to ease your unnatural need caused by the fruit. Then the test will be fair. What do you say?"

Lana thought for a second. She wasn't likely to get out of taking the test, so maybe this was the best option. "Alright," she said, nodding. "Just untie me and I'll go apply it."

The magistrate shook his head, grinning. "No need for that, we can help you."

Lana blushed. "Oh no, it—it's alright, I-I don't need help." Her thighs were quivering at the thought of the men applying the salve to her body.

"Oh it's not trouble," said the magistrate. "Paya, go fetch Miss Torina's ointment. And bring the applicators as well."

"Applicators?" said Lana, her stomach tensing.

The magistrate and the two men all smiled, which made Lana terribly anxious. "Yes, it seems no one showed you how to properly apply the salve? Lucky for you we will show you the proper way."

"I—I know how to apply it," stammered Lana nervously. "There's no need for an . . . applicator."

The magistrate shook his head, placing his hand on Lana's shoulder. "If you'd used the applicator, you wouldn't have needed to keep applying it every few hours."

Paya returned, carrying her vial of salve, and a wooden object, long and thin. She handed it to the magistrate and returned to her station. Lana watched in trepidation as the magistrate went to a table, taking apart the wooden device until it was two pieces. He then used his finger to take a surprisingly large dollop of the salve, and placed it into a small well at the end of the cylindrical wooden rod. He then inserted the rod into the larger rod, and turned to face Lana. The applicator looked like a wooden penis, and she could see a small hole in the tip.

"Oh god, you're not putting that inside me!" she gasped, backing away suddenly. The two helpers quickly moved to grab her arms and hold her steady.

"You see, my dear," said the magistrate calmly. "this will deposit a large supply of the salve deep inside you, where it will be most effective, and it will slowly make its way out, so you need not reapply it for several days. Less of course if you are heavily used."

"Heavily used?" croaked Lana, horrified. The magistrate reached into the vial and removed a smaller amount of the ointment, and began rubbing it all along the length of the applicator. Lana felt herself trembling slightly in anxiety as he approached. "Did you apply it to your breasts as well?"

Lana hesitated, then nodded.

"Good girl," said the magistrate. "after one or two applications to your breasts, you will find they grow in sensitivity. It's quite useful in training virgin slaves, when we must limit ourselves in how we train them."

"One or two?" said Lana, confused. She must have used it a dozen times.

"Not much more effect after that," said the magistrate. "On your little flower petals however, and inside, the more applications, the more effective it is. After a couple of applications, it is very effective."

"And what is the effect???" demanded Lana. "You promised to tell me!"

"Of course, you deserve an answer, my dear," he said. "You see, in training a new slave, you must bend her to your will. Pain will generate obedience, and for some customers that is enough. But for the more discerning slave buyer, a meek, broken slave is of little interest. They want a female with the fire of rebellion, unbroken, yet filled with unbidden desire. And such men often have considerable libido, and great skill. A new slave is easily aroused, but how to make her endure the skill and endurance of such a man, to give him prolonged, eager service? A strong, skilled Master wants the endurance of an experienced slave, but the novelty of a female just introduced to her slavery. It is not easy. This is where the dragon's flower is used." He patted her cheek, making her pull away in disgust. "A new slave can be repeatedly used without reaching an orgasm, thereby maintaining her eagerness to please. It's also highly useful in training, for a female is much more compliant when denied her ultimate desire, rather than given it."

"I don't understand," said Lana, though she was afraid she did. "It will deny me what I desire? And what is that?"

"Oh, do not worry dear," said the magistrate. "When you are fully taken by your body's burning arousal, and you are begging us for your use, to ease your need and give you some rest, you will curse the precious ointment you've been so dutifully applying to yourself." He leaned back at laughed heartily. "I've never had a slave who'd used so much of it," he added. "It will be interesting to see how eager we can make you, though I fear your heart might burst."

Lana's heart nearly stopped. It made perfect sense -- the salve would keep her from reaching orgasm, or prolong it, or something. She'd been seeing to her own torture. Why had Nika given her such a thing? Then she remembered the girl's agitated state. Lamare! He must have gotten to her! Poor girl, who knows what he threatened her with.

Lana thought of Nika, and of Warrick and she shivered. She felt so alone, and helpless, and she had to fight down the rising panic. Where was Warrick? Even if he had survived, would he be in any condition to come rescue her?