Scott Alten Raiders of Trog Pt. 04

Chapter 6--Blue Sex

Scott Alten / Jolan

People were streaming out of the theater. The credits were still running with the movie's theme song playing the Outre, allowing people to experience one more time the key emotional scene.

"Come to my lap, Jolan. I want to try your tight rosebud."

"My what?"

Doug's voice changed to a gentle tease. "I want to fuck your bum. Or in cruder earth terms: Give me your butt hole."

"I really have to do that? I didn't know that was possible."

"It's not only possible, it's enjoyable. Last time I ask with kindness... straddle my legs and lower your back hole on my cock before the lubrication I coated it with dries up. You'll obey me regardless, but it will go easier for you if you get up here NOW.'

With a deep gulp and swallow Jolan complied, ignored the snicker of two Trog youths walking past, gasped when the two sidled between two rows of theater seats to plop down directly behind Doug, face to face with Jolan.

Sensing them, Doug decided to make them work for the show they wanted to watch. "One of you kiss her mouth, tongue her ears. The other one feast on one of her breasts, switch places when I give the word."

'Now I'll just sit back and enjoy this tight virgin hole.'

Jolan felt the head of his cock on her cunt, allowed her body to slide down it, reacting to a suggestion from the boy jabbing her ear with his tongue.

"It will lubricate his dick, make it easier for you."

"Once it's down Jolan, rise up and place it against your back hole. If it doesn't happen this time I'll tell Hazen to punish you."

Though the tone meant business and she took him seriously, the threat of punishment from Hazen didn't scare her at all. (She'd soon find out that threat was very much something to worry about.)

It hurts! Jolan gasped, then whimpered. "No! Please no!"

Another whisper down her ear, "It will get better. Relax. Let him in."

"Let the boys' hands and tongues relax you, Jolan. This is a Trog's favorite hole and will be used every day."

"No. No. I don't want to be a slave."

"You have it wrong, Jolan. What you DON'T want is to be alone. You are then a burden on society. Have you not learned yet that as a woman alone you cannot work, can't purchase anything? You would not have been allowed in this theater tonight if I hadn't accompanied you."

"That's not how society works."

"That's life on Trog. As a slave you can go into a store and purchase goods alone. Anything business related, as long as you wear a brand or tattoo you will be granted service, always in the belief that you were sent by your Master."

"Why were you the first one to use me? Shouldn't that have been Scott Alten? Or Hazen?"

It was Doug's turn to be embarrassed, aware that he too, was in danger of punishment for he had basically snuck in, didn't exactly run it past Alten first, not an action expected of a Trog officer in Alten's army of Renegades.

She was tight. Seemed to squeeze every inch of his cock, causing the blue Jizz to bubble, a warmth spread through the stiff rod, heating up her tight dark channel as well as infusing Doug's entire body with a slow-spreading heat.

Now, having his thick cock deep inside of her asshole was good. She pushed her butt down, trying to take even more of him in that tight hole.

The boys behind her sensed the subtle change, knew she had stopped fighting, one began to kiss her mouth, lick her eyelids, tongue fuck one ear then the other ear. The second boy held one breast in his hand, the other he captured with his mouth.

Together, the three of them brought Jolan to such a glorious climax she never wanted it to stop but to carry her further on and upward.

Doug fought to hold back his climax. People were beginning to trickle in for the second viewing of the movie. He didn't want to cum until the second movie was playing and people were absorbed in that movie, not what he was doing...

Chapter 7

Jolan: Tavern Slave

Jolan was kept in one position by the chain that had somehow converted to a solid metal post once it was attached to her collar. The top of the metal post had conformed to her jaw line so her head was trapped, unable to turn left or right, unable to nod up or down.

Only through side glances through the periphery of vision was she aware of men coming in or going out. There was a constant barrage of comments and cat calls. How was she going to ever serve drinks after this? Knowing those customers had witnessed this degradation?

Where two days ago she'd had hopes of forming a relationship with Scott Alten, maybe even hopes of marrying him one day, all she wished now was that she'd never met him.

She barely knew him! Now he would see her naked? Unable to look him in the eye? 'Please God. Save me. Take me home. Let me die. Maybe if I hold my breath...

Two men came up to the alcove boundary but didn't venture inside. "Nice breasts. I'd pay a copper for that."

"Not today! Commander's got her locked down. She's in for long session."

"Bad thing about that, she works circles around Veda. We'll be waiting for drinks today."

When the two men lingered, Hazan ambled over with a blindfold in his hand. Believing that having spectators so close was upsetting her, he meant to fix it so she'd never know which customers lingered.

Also, Scott had ordered a blindfold which Hazan had forgotten until he noticed the side glances Jolan shot toward the opening. She felt the blindfold slide over her head, accepted it without fuss. She was in enough trouble.

Eventually Scott Alten did enter the tavern but took his time going to the alcove. He knew that kneeling on the floor as she was, nude, knees resting on Trogg's version of a slave matt, was a greater punishment than anything that he could dish out.

The strict chain pole with chin harness was a step farther than Scott instructed but Jolan would understand now that as a slave there were rules she must adhere to and ignorance was no excuse.

After spending minutes talking to his men and flirting with the twin barmaids, Zelda and Veda, Scott Alten was ready to address the one reason he had visited the tavern that morning.

Hazan was behind the counter so he made that detour. "Doug did not seem upset that he had to ask four times. She wasn't arguing or refusing, merely asking for the rule to be explained. She's still a newbie to this planet and it damn near broke my heart to punish her the way I did."

"How many lashes?"

"Two. Both left welts."

Scott nodded, satisfied his demands as Primary owner had been respected. As he walked toward the alcove he continued to stall, wondered if Jolan was aware of his approach.

She was, in fact, highly attuned to every sound in the main bar room beyond. Fatigue had settled in and with it, the humiliated embarrassment of having to kneel while nude in a public establishment chained to a metal post had slowly evaporated.

Now, she simply didn't care. If it got her off the pole, she could think of nothing she wouldn't be willing to do. She would forgive him to get off this pole. She would grovel. She would even suck him off it that bought freedom to move.

Scott Alten gave no verbal greeting. He instead picked up Hazan's whip, studied it to gauge how effective it could be. Not the worst of punishing whips but neither was it a child's toy... or even an adult bedroom toy.

It was not a whip meant for pleasure, at least not for those receiving the lashes. This whip would very likely produce pleasure for those who wished to wield it.

He took it in his dominant hand, allowed the leather thongs to trail along her back. He then took the pointed end and used it to count each one of her ribs on the closest side to him... knew she tensed each time the whip lightly touched her skin.

Once the ribs were counted he drew his arm back and let one lash fly, found it far more wicked than he had at first thought. The cry of a wounded kitten floated from Jolan's throat, one she had fought to keep buried.

"I do not want to hurt you, Jolan."

"Then why do you?" She swallowed a sob to add, "M... M... Master Scott. Master Alten."

"Because those out there expect it. If I do not exert my authority over you, they'll think I'm not strong enough to demand it and I would lose the respect of the stronger personalities.

"I will not be a demanding Master, Jolan, but I will be a strict one. You will obey every order given to you, whether it's issued by myself, Hazan, or any of those who patronize this establishment. If ever someone not worthy of your services approaches you, your collar will burn, metal hot to the touch on a blistering summer day as we knew them on earth.

"The collar will not permit you to have relations with anyone unworthy to bear the child of an Alten slave. If you do not pull away when contact is initiated, the collar will incrementally get hotter and hotter until you will do anything to escape it, times when the easiest course will be to walk away.

"I have burned with desire for you Jolan since the afternoon we flirted by the lake. I believed you were attracted to me that day, were you, little Jolan?"

The only answer she was capable of giving was a sob. How could she tell him, now, that she had fantasized of a relationship with him? One that may have ended with marriage and kids?

Or did this planet do things different? Procreate with slaves, not with wives? If she had kids, would they be slaves at first breath? Never to know a moment of free will?

Realizing that he had lost her, that her attention was no longer on HIM, he brought the whip down with a lash meant to bring her attention back to him, to this moment they shared.

When that lash brought a sharp cry from her throat, he repeated it with a second lash, this one across her ass before another followed it.

Scott Alten then used the point of the whip to trace the line of her full breast, then down the crack of her ass.

Hazen has a room in the cellar. You will live there now. As a slave you have no set hours. You will begin your bar day when Hazen comes to fetch you and you will work until he brings you down to your cot.

While serving drinks you will obey the demands of any who purchase the privilege of using you with Hagan's bar special Paga. If it's amber, they have just purchased the brew. But if it's green, they own you for an hour. If it's the color of sky-blue, they've paid for the day.

"How can I do my job if I'm chained to a table or someone is using me to get their rocks off?"

"Hazan knows when to schedule more help. He's had as many as 20 barmaids working a shift. You cover each other. You are the only one to live on premise. The tips you earn belong to Hazan. He may decide to give them back to you. If he does, make sure you sign a receipt.

"Should anyone suspect you are carrying money that you've kept money that should have gone to Hazan first, you will face charges and the penalties handed down by the Trogs are severe."

A small box lit up at Scott Alten's side lit up. He glanced at it with a frown. "I've got to go. You get your cute little ass out there and start pushing drinks."

"I... I don't have anything to wear."

Scott smiled. "Hazan will have an apron. That's all you'll need. If you end the day with less than 1 Copper piece worth of lead bits, I'll have to think you neglected your customers."

"Meaning I'll be punished for anything less?"

When the only answer was a thin line of his lips, Jolan shuddered, did not reply, merely accepted his help to stand up, accepted the apron he handed her that buckled at the waist but left her chest bare.

Suddenly the future... whether days or weeks... stretched out... too far into the future.

**********

Scott Alten was glaring at Hazan. "You didn't tell her? He's going to pick her up and she has no idea she's a slave now? Or even what a slave is obligated to do? What her role will be now, in Trogg society? As barmaid for you?"

"I couldn't, Scott. I didn't have it in me. So far from how we're raised on Earth."

"You say that but you'll use her, same as all the rest of us."

"Yes. I'm ashamed to admit I will and very eager to get a taste of that young wench!

"Have her in the Alcove, locked to a table base before I get here in the morning!"

**********

The walk to Doug's home after the movie was... different. Each step jarred her body, made her hips jiggle and the blue jizz in her womb and rectum come alive, as if Doug was fucking her all over again. Three yards from their destination she had to stop, lean against him and dry hump his leg until she climaxed again.

Once at his house, they showered, then cuddled in his bed, time taken to explore the Trogg's male body for her, him to explore the luscious curves of an Earthling, much different that the hard straight boards that Trogg women were prone to have.

The next morning Doug cooked breakfast for his guest, then walked her to her job at the Hole in the Rock Tavern. It was shock, then, to find Hazan in a bad mood, an angry scowl to greet her and not the hearty smile she believed was his favored manner.

"Thank you for delivering this wench to work early. Orders from the Commander to have her in the Alcove immediately after arriving."

"She obeyed last night. I have no complaints."

"You had to ask four times before she obeyed."

Then to Jolan, "On your knees. Clothes off."

"Wha...?" A deeper growl and frown from Hazen sent Jolan to her knees, then when she had trouble pulling her clothes off, Doug produced a sharp knife from a sheaf on his leg, used it to cut one of her favorite outfits off her body.

"No! Stop! I obeyed his command!"

A protest neither man paid the slightest attention to.

"I really was taking them off. You did not have to do that. What am I going to wear now, to serve drinks?"

"That will be up to Commander Scott." Hazan informed, his voice stern, albeit one that had not yet mastered the tone of command.

A wide metal ban came at her, something like a very wide handcuff. "Is that a collar?"

"Yes." Hazan slipped that distracted affirmative before calling out to someone in the kitchen, "Is that welding rod ready?"

In seconds someone stepped behind her. The metal around her neck grew very warm as the clasp to the collar was melted to become part of it.

"There is no escaping your station, now, Jolan. Those who have no right to speak to you or use you will give a wide berth. Those who may, will take what they want from you, report you to the men who now own you if in any way you fail to obey or please them.

"Now crawl into the alcove. Stop at the first table."

Jolan began to crawl, heard the shrill whistle then the sharp bite of a whip lash on the small of her back. She cried out as another whistle sounded and a second lash landed on bare skin.

"How do you respond to a direct command?"

Jolan, shaking, shocked silent, fought to remember... ran through the last moments before the whip had struck.

"I will obey, Master Hazan."

"Not altogether correct but a good start. Now I have just administered your first slave lesson. How do you respond to that?"

"Thank you, Master, for the gift of learning through pain so slave Jolan never forgets again."

"Begin your journey to the Alcove, Jolan."

"Thank you, Master. Jolan obeys."

Hazan and Doug watched her crawl over the tavern floor to the table nearest the entrance. A small ring with a short chain was waiting. Hazan picked up the Loose end of the chain and fastened it to her collar. The chain then became an iron post with her head fitting into a perfectly carved notch. It locked her head in place and prevented even the slightest movement of her body.

She would wait for Scott Alten on her knees, granting all who entered the tavern that morning an unfettered view of a naked slave awaiting punishment.

As if to console the heartbroken girl, Doug's jism from all of their fucks the night before began to fuck her again... that in her belly jumping back into her mouth.

The goop in her pussy and rectum making her feel full... just as Doug's cock had done the night before, fucking her again and again, just as if his cock really was using her in all three holes at once.

Something that could not happen... unless the slave was a little bit excited by... turned on a bit... with the punishment from the whip... maybe by the crawl through the empty bar... possibly even from the public humiliation of kneeling nude where anyone in the tavern could see her.

The worst part for her was the inability to fuck back... muscles that ached with the need to move...