It gives you...


Erotica by Joe Tortuga

3: The de Sade

(bdsm, Girl #16180, sci-fi)

May 03, 2013

Dossier Name:  Martin Ernst ID: (none registered) Height: 199cm Mass: 82kg Age: 39 Hair: Light Brown, with grey temples Eyes: Grey Birth Date: 2131.01.26

Space-going fortress.  Vacation pleasure palace.  Haven for miscreants.  Corrupt home for sexual deviants.  The de Sade is all those things, and more.  Constructed as corporate headquarters, converted to space battleship, fun park and hotel over its life, the de Sade has an interesting history, only overshadowed by it’s current function.

United Conglomerate commissioned the capture of the asteroid in 2075 in order to turn it into a giant, space-faring headquarters (and free them of certain legal concerns).  They towed it to near-Earth orbit, installed high quality engines, hydroponics, and environmental systems.  The self contained systems were set to go live, but the Conglomerate’s plans were thwarted when the MidEast conflict became World War 3.

Sensing profit, United Conglomerate retrofitted the asteroid as a battleship, against UN Space treaties, anticipating the possibility of the war expanding to the extraterrestrial.  Facing bankruptcy after the war, United Conglomerate was forced to sell what had become a rather large and expensive albatross.  Today’s de Sade is still covered with the armor and turrets added then.  The ordinance was removed before it was sold to Hilton-Disney, but with certainty at least some of it has been replaced. 

Hilton-Disney decided to turn the floating fortress into its first space attraction/four-star hotel.  From 2094, and for over fifty years, Space Disney was a growing attraction, and outshone the Earth-based attractions it mimicked.  Space colonization, other than the planetary terraforming of Mars was minimal during this period, until 2137 when artificially generated gravity was discovered.  The attractions possible with this (and the cost of retrofitting Space Disney) made Hilton-Disney decide to slowly phase out the park, in favor of the easier to maintain MoonBase Disney. 

By 2152, the ship was completely decommissioned as a park, and sold to a trio of private investors, who are also the current owners of the de Sade.

They remodeled the ship, refurbished and re-staffed it, and blasted out of Earth orbit.  They claimed extraterritoriality, and defended it well, and headed out beyond the orbit of Jupiter, cutting off contact with Earth.  Two years later, re-christened as the de Sade, they returned and opened up for business — the business of pleasure.

Entire nations and whole religions condemned them, especially once their rules were announced.  Anyone of any age who could abide by their rules were allowed on.  The first rule was simple: Do no harm to the ship, or to its operations, residents or guests.  The second rule was the quaint and severely enforced “Only yes means yes.”  The latter is ensured by a series of questionnaires and psych evaluations which must be cleared before entry to the ship can be obtained. This is the only criteria used to filter guests, besides the desire to board and the ability to pay the fee.

This rule nearly caused a war.

Some speculate it was because the governments of the world want to protect their children.  Wiser speculators believe that its because the leaders of those governments were denied access to the de Sade.

The permanent residents — not all of whom are Citizens — follow a more complex set of rules than Guests.  Justicars, specifically selected Citizens, hand most of the justice on an impromptu and immediate basis.  The original trio of investors, called the Triumvirate, serve as the ultimate ruling body, final court, and the steering committee for the venture.

On August 13, 2170, two days after Girl #16180’s decanting, one of the Triumvirate, Martin Ernst, was having a particularly bad day.  The slavegirl beneath his desk was doing an average job as she sucked and licked his cock, but there was too much going on for him to relax.  The whole point of this exercise was so he could live the way he wanted.  Earlier it had been better, but the stress of running the sex tourism over the past decade had left him with mountains of details and stress that he worked out nightly with his harem.  That part was good, at least, though tonight would be a rough night for them.

He watched as his internal visor flashed data into his visual field. One of the more recent tourist groups had brought with them a nasty virus, and were having to be contained in a safe part of the ship.  Until the incubation period was over, none of the tourists could be allowed to wander, and they were upset about that. He was slowly getting residents inoculated to circulate amongst them, which helped to ease tensions, as it were.

More disturbing was the report that Bruce Graves, another member of the Triumvirate, had felt he needed to bring in person.  Martin looked up at Bruce, the visor display fading to transparency as he looked at his old friend.  Bruce had brought two of his slaveboys and two of his female guards along, a fitting entourage for “Lord Bruce”.  Bruce always knew how to keep up appearances.

“I don’t see what the deal is,” Martin said.  “Looks like the virus is contained, we’ve extended their stay to make up for the inconvenience, and it’ll work itself out.”

“I was referring to some of the side documents,” Bruce said. At a gesture one of his slaveboys knelt, and Bruce sat on his back.  The other slid between his knees as the guards flanked Bruce, slightly behind him.  Martin focused on his display, and it faded in from transparency. There he found the subtle links Bruce had left for him.

He ran a hand through the slavegirl’s hair, guiding her up and down his cock at the pace he preferred for reading.  The message was clear: they had been infiltrated.  Some had tried, but this is the first time in years anyone had succeeded. “I see..” Martin said. “What do you propose?”

“It could be completely contained — with the proper pressure,” Bruce said. “My team would be able to handle it, but I think it falls more in your jurisdiction.”

Martin checked over the information, and his eye was tugged to an iconic maze.  Focusing on that, it expanded to fill his vision with a large sans-serif font. “We have a spy,” it read, and flashed away.  “She is here.”  Martin triggered a simple scan of his apartment/office, and found one heat signature completely unaccounted for. 

“You don’t think think this is matter for security?” Martin asked.

“I don’t think I’ll be needed to handle this. You’ve dealt with it admirably so far.”  Lord Bruce smiled.

His visor flashed again, showing Martin more detailed information about the intruder.  He smiled and Martin told his friend, “I’ll see it’s taken care of.”  Lord Bruce nodded, and stood, his robes closing about him as he and his entourage strode out of the office.

Martin thought about sating himself in his slavegirl’s mouth, but decided against it.  He needed the edge.  He slid back from his desk, standing.  He looked at the slavegirl. “Return in two hours time, I’ll have something more for you then.”  She knelt pressing her head against the floor.  He activated the simple transport chute there, and she was returned to his harem.  “You can come out, now,” he said.  “I know you’re here.”

At a mental command, his visor switched from reporting to tagging modes.  The girl stepped out from an alcove.  “Hannah Li,” the tags displayed.  She had black hair, with bleached streaks, worn long and braided, and wrapped up on her head, and held in place with a couple of hair sticks.  Her skin was pale, freckled, and she had blue-green eyes.  She wore a blue and red kimono, tied in the ancient style.

The tags identified her body piercings and tattoos that hid under her clothing. Little could be hidden from their screening process. She had researched his tastes.  She had wanted to get close to him.

“Master,” she said, bowing in front of him.

A blink brought up her sexual preferences, which he’d read earlier while Bruce had been there.  Intriguing in and of themselves, he wondered if they were true. If she really wanted the treatment she was about to receive.  She’d consented for it, in effect, she’d requested it.  If she was a spy she might have done it just to pique his interest, and not out of any real desire for it.  That just made him more excited.

He walked toward her, and she stayed her ground.  When he was almost in arms reach of her, he told her, “I know you are a spy.”  She was obviously startled; she didn’t expect it.  She took a step backward, then another. “Who do you work for?”

He walked toward her. He easily had a 30 cm of height on her.  She matched his pace, backing away as he loomed over her menacingly.  “Master…?” she whimpered.  “What?”  Her right foot found the dark metal walls behind her, and her hands pressed against it.  He moved forward, his presence pressing her against the wall.  Then he was against her.

“Who are you spying for?”  he asked her, as he pushed against her.  One of his hands was above her head on the wall, the other was hovering over the front of her kimono, just barely touching her, ready to move.   He was leaning over her; he could sense her fear. “Do you know what you agreed to when you became a permanent resident? Did you think no one would notice?”

“Wh-what?” She shivered below him. He moved in closer, his body touching hers; he knew she could feel his hard cock against her thigh.

He pulled at her kimono. It tore, ripping down and exposing her breasts.  “I know what you said you liked. Are you going to tell me you lied?” He wrapped a hand around her breast and laughed.

“No-no,” Hannah whimpered, turning her head. “Stop, I don’t want this.”

He kissed her, then, his tongue invading her, his hand mauling her right breast.  She just stood there in shock at what he was doing. “You want this,” he whispered, breaking the kiss. “Or you are a spy and you’ve broken the law.”  He kissed her again; this time, she tilted her head to meet him.  “Or both.”

She pushed at him with both her hands, bracing against the wall.  He moved back, and grabbed her hands in one of his.  The other tore her kimono down to the knot.  He pushed her hands above her, and held them against the wall.  Martin kissed her tears and chuckled, low.  “No…” she whispered. 

He pulled a pair of magnetic cuffs from a pocket of his robe, and locked them around her wrists.  He touched them to the wall, and with a mental command through the visor, they stayed put.  She pulled unsuccessfully against them as he smiled down at her.

One hand returned to her breast, while the other pulled her kimono up, and found her sex.  He slid his fingers against her lips.  “You are wet,” he whispered to her.  She shut her eyes and turned away from him.  “Look at this,” he said. When she didn’t open her eyes, he said it again, louder. “Look at this!“.  She looked and held his fingers in front of her, sticky with her juices.

He ran them under her nose, letting her smell her arousal.  He touched her lips, cocked an eyebrow, and her lips parted.  He slid his fingers inside her mouth.  She wept while she tasted herself.  “Can’t decide if you like it or not, Hannah?” he mocked her.  She shook her head, but continued licking his fingers.

He returned his fingers to her sex. She began to mutter, “No, no, no,” under her breath as her arousal grew.  He laughed, and teased her clit.  Her nipples hardened, and flushed. Her head tossed back and forth in time to her denials.

“I think it’s ‘Yes, yes, yes’,” he said to her, and slid a finger inside her. 

“No!” she cried out, her body clenching around his finger, her orgasm obvious to him.  He laughed, and stepped away from her.  She slumped there, hanging from the cuffs, her kimono in tatters around her waist.  He let his robe drop to the floor in a pool around his feet, revealing his naked form.  “Are you ready for me?” he asked, stepping between her legs. 

She whimpered, and he kissed her.  “I guess it doesn’t matter.”  He lifted her thighs, pressing her against the wall and holding her in place. He grabbed her ass with both hands, and  pulled her down onto his cock.  She cried out in pleasure as he pierced her.  Martin laughed as she moaned.

He fucked her against the wall; she thrashed around him in orgasm, still repeating her mantra, “No,no,no,” while he held her with one hand and mauled her breast with the other, plunging in and out of her. Finally, he came, squeezing her hard enough to bruise.

He stepped back and looked at her hanging there, sweaty and used.  Her hair was still up in the long braid, trapped behind her against the wall, but it was beginning to look a little frayed.  For that matter, Hannah looked like that all over.  Her breasts were red and raw; her breathing heavy and labored.

“You… are right,” she said. “I didn’t want.. to be raped.  Not even as a … a fantasy.   It was … to get your attention.  But—”  She stopped then, new tears forming in her eyes, running down her face.

“But, now, you want more?” She nodded.  He licked her salty, conflicted tears.  “You want me to take you again? Make you come even harder?” She nodded.  “You probably hate me,” he said. She didn’t respond, just staring down at the floor. “But you want me to do it, and, I bet, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”  She nodded, just once.

Martin grabbed her chin.  “Don’t just nod, Hanna.  Answer me.”

“Yes, yes, damn you.  Yes, Master.  I want more. Take me again, fuck me again, make me come.  Yes, I’ll tell you what you want, who I’m spying for.”  She paused, and sobbed.  “And yes, Master, I fucking hate you for making me this way.”

Martin looked into her eyes, and smiled. “Good,” he said.  With a mental command, the lock disengaged from the wall, and she slumped down. He grabbed the cuffs, and dragged her into his bedroom.

Joe Tortuga

Written by Joe Tortuga a bisexual dominant erotica writer and programmer (he/him). Follow me on Twitter