Acteon Chemistry free porn video

A tale based in Alyssa S' Acteon world. Much thanks to her for creating it. Acteon Chemistry Calob Ng rolled his shoulders, still trying to come to grips with the densely packed musculature of his newly acquired body. Sir Wilfred's borrowed body. He felt big, powerful, intimidating. It was a new sense of self. Acteon males were not the same as the homogenised confederation citizens - generations of isolation and selective breeding made the two societies quite different in genetic and physical terms. His former body had been five ten, lean, dark haired, brown eyed and possessed of the slightly dark complexion standard to confederation citizens. Former body. It sat in stasis in orbit with Wilfred's mind in it. He was linked to this body by a neural link that he did not fully understand. But it allowed him to be here... This borrowed body was paler skinned though tanned by exposure to the sun - Caucasian due to the limited original genetic stock of the first settlers of Acteon - and stood at six three. It was hairier, scarred and, Calob felt, imperfect due to its more primitive environment. Knights were generally better physical specimens and Acteon men tended to be tall and strong. His new weathered and sun bronzed face had a days growth of stubble, hard bristles on his chin. He also wore a thick slicked moustache. His partly braided hair hung long about his shoulders. And he felt aggressive - hormones that were carefully balanced and controlled in the confederation through genetic engineering generations ago and subtly drugged diets ran rampant through his new body. He liked it. He felt alive. Rough. Tough. A master of himself and his surrounds. There were callouses on his hands, scars on his chest and arms. His teeth were not perfect but were in good condition. He was a primitive man now, used to hardship and the trappings of this society. Calob also wore the raiments of a knight. Sword. Mail. Cape. Rough cotton shirt. Leather britches. He felt dangerous. He walked along the narrow cobbled street, hand near his sword pommel, taking in the sights and sounds and sensations that were at once alien and a part of his borrowed life. He would be here for a week, enough time to savour the pleasures of this place and conduct a bit of business. He planned on buying a new slavegirl, his purse was full of coin to do just that. "Sir Wilfred," a vendor called. The man was thin short and weaselly, hair unkempt and teeth ragged and stained by Zhoza, a narcotic chewing resin. Calob didn't realise for a moment that he was being called. The body he wore was named Wilfred. Calob turned to the slimy little vendor and nodded. "Yes." "The new slave drug you promised me..." the vendor said, ushering him into his shop. Calob eyed it. There was a cesspit on one adjacent side that fairly reeked of human filth and detritus. To the other was a lizzard stable, the place having its own unique odour. Then Calob nodded in understanding. This was his contact, the person Wilfred had arranged to sell the new drug too. The shop specialised in Alchemy, the small dingy interior cluttered by roots dangling from walls and ceiling, dried herbs and spices in colourful and aromatic display in buckets and tubs, hookahs, pipes and other smoking paraphernalia, an assortment of small bottles, vials, stoppered glass tubes, unguents, potions and pill boxes, dried animal parts and everything in between. Calob followed the man, Jin, into his shop and lifted his sack onto the table. Calob untied the drawstring and rummaged about inside, finding the eight rough blown glass bottles. The offworlder put them on the table. "Ten thousand doses in each bottle. Works only on females. Twice as strong as the normal Acteon slave serum, completely addictive after three doses. Withdrawal will be two days of delirious hell but otherwise no ill effects. It will make any girl into a pliant thrall." Calob grinned. "And if it works as intended I also have something even better. An injection." It had been easy to use his companies biochem equipment to make the serum. He'd buried another fifty bottles outside of town. But the injection was more than just the serum. It was a small nano regulator device that actually produced the serum once inserted into the body. For life. Once injected it ensured submission. He produced three measured doses from his pocket. "Shall we procure a test subject for the demonstration? Preferably a girl that has never been exposed to the slave serum before..." One that he would be able to enjoy. Jin nodded as he put the small bottles away in a sturdy oak lock box with an undeniable enthusiasm. "Yes Sir Wilfred, allow me to escort you to the slave market." The two headed off through the close hemmed streets, avoiding people, refuse and human and animal waste, coming to the small guarded square where the slavers were setting up for the auction. The smell's were exotic. The earthy, pungent tangs of an unsewered and undrained streets were omnipresent. But the overdone spices, incense and cheap perfumes dominated to lend an erotic feel, but beneath was the whiff of sweat and unwashed bodies. The place was clean and there were many bolts to chain the slaves too. It was early still and there were few cistomefs Calob looked out over the oiled and artfully presented slaves with appreciation, feeling his loins stirring in a most unusual way. In his old body he had enjoyed sex but he sensed in this body he would relish it. Such was the nature of Acteon male physiology. The slavegirls were all small scantily clad creatures, chained to slave rings and looking about uncertainly. They all looked ready for the taking. He walked through them, noticing those that had been administered the slave drug by the tearing in their faces, their servile carriage and the evident arousal they endured. Most were bare breasted, tattoos and diverse piercings in evidence. Most wore loin cloths or skirts and sandals. They were made up, hair groomed and faces paints. A number wore corsets to accentuate their curves. The girls were all lovely. Slaves bred to their role tended to be slimly curvaceous creatures with small perfectly shaped breasts. Free women who had been enslaved tended to be a bit taller with larger breasts. A former free woman would make the best test subject. The false knight walked slowly amongst them, in no real hurry, at least a head taller than them. The auction would be soon. Now was time to inspect the goods. He walked up to one taller large breasted girl and gripped her chin. Odd he should treat a woman like property, but that was what they were to him now. He looked at her teeth then moved his hand down to take a measure of her breasts. Her eyes were not clouded by need and she seemed less than excited by his touch. This might make a suitable subject. "So, not born a slave?" he prompted her. The slave merchant grew apprehensive. The eyes that stared back were cold and proud and beautiful; the lightest, clearest crystal blue. As was her hair, flaxen and blonde to the point of a platinum whiteness. Her skin was cream, and so pale in places her raw red blood flushed....she smelled of subtle perfume and her make up was minimal. A lovely creature. She may well have been sitting on a throne the way she regarded Calob. Highborn. She was a Noble daughter, perhaps a contessa or even a princess. Her skin stood in stark contrast to the olive, tanned or even burnt skin of the other slaves of dun brown or straw blonde or muddy red hair. It was not often naked. Not often exposed. Indoor and indolent. Even her bindings were different. She was sat on a rough wooden square, knees and ankles and wrists tied to the corners with dirty ribbons of silk. Around her neck was a delicate silver choker, more jewellery than binding, and between her lips a sliver of a silk scarf that gagged her. "Good eye, my friend. A sweet morsel, a lady we picked up bathing in the woods." With a gesture, the merchant's guards lifted the square like a crude palanquin, rotating the prize on display. Her eyes starred angry daggers at him. "But she will cost... in other ways. There are better slaves." The merchant watched hungrily, the guards waiting for orders, the girl alternately disgusted and pleading for help. "A good deal, sir..." Jin suggested, insincerely. Calob considered. Would she do? Calob took careful note of her expression. Such insolence would not go unrewarded. Not on Acteon. As a knight he found himself taking her bold gaze as a personal challenge to his ability to master her. She may have been noble born but now she was a slave. She should act as such. She seemed ready to pull at her restraints and try to flee - which was not how a slave should behave. She needed to learn her place. Calob found his response almost instinctive and wondered how much his thoughts were being influenced by his new biochemistry and instincts. He shrugged, dismissing the thought. This was Acteon. This was how men thought. The knight regarded her intently as they lifted her and slowly turned her. She was lovely. A soft, pampered noblewoman, used to being served. A perfect candidate for a demonstration of his serum. He imagined her little body quivering with need, the serum over riding her noble inclinations and turning her into a properly servile and lusty slavegirl. "She has no family? I don't want to face an angry father or brother..." He haggled absently, gesturing at her. He appreciated how she was bound in silk ribbons and nothing else. "An exquisite beauty. But perhaps beyond my means and more trouble than she is worth. Is she to be auctioned or would you take offers now?" Calob asked. In truth he wished to possess her. She was the most lovely girl in the market by far and she practically begged to be enslaved and mastered. "Remove her gag. I wish to speak to her." He requested. The trader did as asked. "What is your name girl?" Haughty silence was the response. "Highborn make poor mounts for riding. Too proud, too frail, and they think too highly of themselves." Carefully, the merchant undid the gag and recoiled, flinching, as if fearing rebuke. Her eyes came alight, as if she would spit fire, but instead she focused on Calob. "Sir. I am Roselle, eldest of Tarquin, Great Moff of the Northern Lakes. Return me unharmed to my father and not only will he shower you with land and gold, but my niece --" One of the guards moved to cuff her, a practised gesture, almost lazy. The merchant was quicker, pushing the gag back in. Roselle snapped at a trailing finger, making the merchant shriek. "I'd even pay you to take this troublemaker off my hands. Fifty slaves! You can carry her yourself or my guards will carry them to your rooms directly!" "You'd give her away?" Calob asked. "No. I jest. Make me an offer." Calob nodded and considered Roselle now she was gagged. "Yes too high spirited. Hardly a good slave. Three silver coins seems reasonable. You have to make a living. Keep her gagged. I'll carry her." The merchant nodded and Calob gave the merchant the coin, reached out and lifted the girl onto his shoulder. She was light, close to half his weight and easily carried. Her soft naked curves moulded to his body, her breasts against his shirt and mailed back, body bent in half, ass high for all to see. It was demeaning to be carried like this for a noblewoman but appropriate for a slave. He suspected she'd never been handled like this before. He patted her naked bottom as he adjusted her weight. "Come on then Rose. Let us return to the shop to inspect my merchandise." Once he'd given her the serum she'd be chained by the neck and let by a leash. But for now carrying her seemed most prudent. The path back to Jin's shop took a little time, giving Calob the opportunity to admire his purchase. She was soft, and pliant, and curvy; her trim belly cleft easily to his metal pauldrons, while the perfect pale flank of flesh that served as her thigh was tempting and delicious so close, next to his face. She struggled slightly, trying to preserve what modesty she could, her bared buttocks exposed to the air, her pink flower visible to all. It hardly mattered - her struggling merely pressed her pillowy chest against his backplate. "Hmmm, perhaps some slave wear for you. Just a collar is dull..." Calob suggested to her with a laugh as he diverted to the busy clothes market. This market was gayer and more open. The peasants gawked at the knight and his unhappy prize. He approached a stall that would cater to his slaves needs, eying clothes designed to display, frame, accentuate and enhance a slaves charms. "Heels, collar... A silk shift and perhaps some slave beads..." Calob said and passed some coppers to a merchant. In coarse cloth the merchant wrapped wrist and ankle cuffs, slave beads, and two shifts; one a shimmery, gossamer thin slip, one a dirty wrap of cloth that would barely cover her belly. Calob took the goods and then moved off too Jin's shop. He walked in and placed Rose on the sales bench. He placed a neural scanner on her brow and the nano machine grafted unnoticed. His ship would be able to completely monitor the effects now. She gasped as the neural device bonded. He had one himself in Wilfred's body, it was necessary for mental swaps. It felt strange he knew. But soon she wouldn't notice it. He reached into his pocket, found a dose of the serum, moved aside her gag and pushed it into her mouth, holding her jaw till she swallowed. It would be slow acting. Roselle stared at him angrily as she choked and swallowed the serum, clearly tempted to bite a finger off. "Now... Your niece?" Calob prompted, watching her intently as the serum took affect. "Yes... The Northern Lakes are five days' away. My niece is young, but fertile. A beauty, twice as gorgeous as I am, and as yet unmarried. My father, the Great Moff, would offer her in exchange for my ransom. Return me safe and undefiled, and you can marry into his family, gain lands as as his Vassal, and never work another day." Her offer hardly interested Calob. The niece sounded interesting but hardly worth the effort. By the time he went there and returned his ship would need to be returned otherwise questions would be asked. No. He was interested in her. She was by far lovelier than any girl he'd seen here. And she was his slave, his property. One did not bargain with ones property... Jin whistled. "What luck. A family of gorgeous girls and money. What a pity you're minting it already, eh Sir?" Calob smirked in agreement at Jin's comment. Roselle turned, staring angrily at Jin, then back to Calob. "What did I just swallow..?" Calob considered the serum he had given her. He'd heard stories of the effects of Acteon slave serum, done simulations on the effects of his own modified serum but wanted to see its effects first hand. "You've ingested something new..." he said enigmatically, not wanting to spoil the surprise. He went to work on her wrists with a knife, cutting the bonds. "I hope I did not hurt you when I took you from your slaver..." he said, as close to an apology she deserved. "But forget your family. You're a slave now. My slave." On the word slave, Roselle curled up into a ball on her back, and kicked with both feet straight into Calob's face. His reflexes were deft enough to brace his neck as her legs kicked out. She caught purchase and managed to shove him off balance, but only slightly. There was a clang as Jin stumbled back into a shelf and items were knocked to the floor. Roselle leapt out of Calob's grasp, fumbled the landing, and collapsed at Calob's feet, angry. Jin managed to stomp an ankle under a heavy boot, and grasped a hold of her long waist-length hair with his fingers. "Fiesty one. Say the word and I'll sell her back to the slaver." Jin was incensed. "I will not be your slave," hissed Roselle, angry. "You are just a lowly Knight. You are nothing." "You are mistaken." Calob growled. She was bold - too bold. He looked down at her at his feet, considering how he should punish her. Her insult made his lips twitch. He was going to enslave her. "Less than nothing?" He repeats as he reached into his pocket and took the second dose. He gripped her chin firmly and pressed the second dose into her mouth, holding her firmly until she swallowed. "That's two... The third dose will be your undoing girl. Do you feel it yet? It should be kicking in." He noted mildly. She should be growing aroused. More timid. It should be eroding her wilful attitude. Causing her thoughts to grow lustful. He stroked her chin gently, knowing that the drug will be heightening her senses, engendering a sexual euphoria from the merest of touches. "I am your master girl... You would do well to remember that," Calob instructed her. Jin spluttered in rage. "Keep her naked, Sir! Cuffs and collars and chains, but not a stitch! Insolent whore! I know a man who can brand her, just say the word!" Roselle kept her eyes locked on Calob as she swallowed the second dose. Intent and loathing suddenly turned into confusion and anxiety in her eyes, before she shut them with a flutter. Already her pale skin was turning red, body becoming heavier in his grip. She began to murmur as she leaned into his stroking, pressing her bare flesh against him. A thin sheen on moisture covered her. "Mmm. You... What...hmmm. Please." Her swollen lips, red and engorged, found the tip of his thumb and began to suck at it... Calob nods. "Yes Jin. She will be properly disciplined so she learns her place. I agree she should be denied clothes and kept in chains. But branding? I would prefer a slave tattoo... perhaps on her rump. Once the serum takes hold fully she'll positively burn with pleasure from the needle - pain becoming sexually arousing. See how her nipples swell fat and hard. Her sex grows moist and engorged. Her breathing becoming pants of lust. Her body is ripe for the taking. But she has not earned any sexual attention... Her escalating need will go unfulfilled." He noted her confusion and watched her suck his finger with a sense of satisfaction. She is succumbing, becoming servile, a creature of base needs and desires. He grabbed the ribbons at her wrists and pulled her up, guiding her arms behind her back and tying her silken fetters firmly behind her, lifting her easily to her tip toes, her breasts out thrust as she balanced precariously. He can feel the heat of her skin. He touched her gently, caressing her sweat glistening flank. "Get a leash and collar. I think she needs a walk where everyone can see her need... Put on the heels girl," he instructed as he tossed the heels recently purchased at her feet. "Tell me. Who is nothing?" he asks as she struggles against the serum. Murmuring, eyes half-closed, Roselle sways and hardly resists as Jin slides her feet into the heels and locks them to her ankle cuffs. As Jin affixes collar and chain, Roselle presses her body and begins rubbing a leg against Calob. "What did you... Ungh... Do?" She breathes, sensually in his ear, pressing her wet crotch, hard nipples and soft warm flesh against him. Calob takes firm hold of her leash, steps back and pulls her away, easily controlling her. He can see the effects of the serum. No doubt her need is making it hard to think, her inhibitions utterly vanquished by the thoughts and desires created by the serum. All Acteon women had a submissive streak and dominant streak, but the serum would heighten the former and dampen the latter. "Do you need release little slave?" he asked, knowing his question played to her new submissiveness. The chain. The lack of control. The lack of clothes. Her subjugated state. Thinking of herself as a slave. All compounded the effects of the serum. "You're not a noble woman. You're a lowly slavegirl. A thrall to your desires. Do you like being a slave? My slave?" he cajoled. He knew she might try to resist but her fate was certain. Would she embrace it? Her need would make her say anything, do anything to satisfy it. "See how effective the serum is Jin?" Calob asked as he took the third and last dose and held it in front of her. Would she tak it, lick it from his hand like a lap slave? He was curious. She would have a third dose no matter what. "Lick it from my hand and I might give you what you want..." He held her leash firmly, the chain quivering. Roselle shut her eyes and took deep breaths, chest heaving. Inside, she was already crying. It was two days ago she was captured, a day ago she was tied up, and now she was here, her body rebelling against her. Her body felt warm. Euphoric. She shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortably in the heels, aware of how they forced her feet and legs up on tiptoes, making her thrust her breasts out in front and her buttocks forced backwards. Her nipples were hard and sore, swollen, and felt uncomfortably huge and heavy, shifting with each breath, each step. She was ashamed. She should not be aroused, but she was, somehow. The light chill in the room on her naked flesh, the length of hair tickling her skin, the fidgeting that forced her to keep moving...everything seemed to turn her on, including, most embarrassingly, Jin's eyes. His gaze burned into her nipples and the wet patch between her legs. She was being turned on by his attention. Oh god. She dared not look Sir Wilfred in the eyes, knowing what would happen. Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, she bent at the waist and lapped up the third dose from his hands. Calob held her trappings taught as he admired her flushed chest rise and fall with her laboured breaths and barely suppressed lust, a light film of sweat making the skin glisten, her little pink nipples erect and proudly out poking, begging to be touched, the perfectly formed globes hyper-sensitised by the serum. He watched her bend at the waist, her pert buttocks raising further to obediently lick the serum. As she nuzzled at his hand he palmed the dose, denying her the dose for now, and pulled her up again to attention. He grunted with satisfaction at her obedience. She was a desirable woman and her subjugation pleased his new Acteon sensibilities. She would make a good slave he felt. "Jin, would you like to see how perfect a slave she is?" he offered. Calob reached out to her chest, fingers brushing the tender soft flesh of the outer left in an elipse that skirted closely around her nipple, tracing the underside of her mammary, veering up between her cleavage tickling both with lazy fingers, up her defined sternum to her thin regal neck, stroking teasingly on his path to her chin. He slipped the final does between her patted lips, his teasing having clouded her mind with obfuscating pleasure and titilation. As she swallowed he passed Jin her leash. "We have a deal...?" he asked Jin. Jin nodded as he led Rose to a slave bolt in the floor and made her descend to all fours, hitching her to the bolt, face close to the floor, ass high. He absently stroked her upturned rump as he left her there to stew in her own juices. Her need was of no concern to him - there was business to attend to. "Of course," Jin agreed a little reluctantly, producing a bag and putting it on the table. Calob looked inside, grunted and closed it tight. "Enjoy the girl..." Calob suggested eying her sopping sex and upturned rump. He considered taking the girl. She was addicted to slave bane now. No longer a noble woman but a sex slave. "I'd say you've trebled her value..." Jin say. "Perhaps," Calob concedes. As the fingers traced around her breast, and up her throat, Roselle reacted by stepping forward, pressing and pushing her body against him. No! She didn't...want to surrender, not like that, not so simply! But he knew what he was doing, and her body was held in the deathly embrace of the drug. The third dose didn't taste of anything at all. Horrified Roselle's eyes watched as the knight prepared to leave, while the slaver dragged her away to the floorbolt and forced her to kneel. "No! Wait! Knight! You own me, you want me! Take me away! Make me your slave!" She tried to struggle, but only succeeded in clinking the floorbolt. Calob nodded to Jin. "Instant slavegirl," he noted. "I did buy her so she is mine I guess." "I have little use for her." Jin shrugged. "Another mouth to feed." Calob considered. "I have another trip to the castle. The Lord might like her as a gift," Calob decided. "Very well." Jin slid the bolt out, allowing Roselle to rise to her feet. Hope! Left on her knees, sold to the slaver, there would be no chance to escape. But even life with a knight was better than most. She stumbled over and pressed her body against the Knight, tiptoeing to whisper in his ear. "Take me, please..." "You wish to come?" he asked. He nodded, taking her leash. "Walk behind me. You've seen slave girls before. You know what is expected of them." She led her outside. It must be unusual for her to walk about naked, a lowly slave, worlds away from her previous life. The leash toyed with Roselle endlessly, at times taut, forcing her to trot like a show horse with heels kicking up high, at times loose forcing her to stumble. It was all she could do to stay on her feet and not sprawl on her belly, heels over head, arse in the air for all to see. He considered taking her. As her master he could take her at his leisure but he wanted her to beg. "This way." He tugged her leash, keeping her moving in her heels, admiring the sway of her breasts and the evident need she was suffering. He led her into a slave tattooist, a slim slavegirl looking up, a butterfly on her cheek. She is naked except for the tattoos all over her lithe young body. "This one is only newly enslaved. I want her status marked on her rump. A slave sigil. My crest - a dragon coiling from her rump to between her legs, on her inner thigh, a Rose clutched in its claws... The petals her sex. Do her sex last," He points to his crest on his doublet and grins knowing that the needle will likely drive her wild. "Yes sir," the slavegirl agrees, regarding Rose. She frowns, noting how regal Rose is, how soft and pampered. "A very new slave. I am Inkling," she says coyly. "I've not had an Inkling before..." He pays for the tattoo as he pushes Rose down on the table, her breasts pressed flat. He takes her feet and puts them in the ankle restraints then grabs her hands and puts them them in the wrist cuffs. She looks every bit the slave. He admires her neatly trimmed sex, relishing the permanent reminder that will soon be upon it that marks her as all his. "Shave that hair... I like a boldly bald quim..." The tattooist gathers her inks, bright purples and burgundies and greens. She starts to prick Roses rump, the little needles causing the newly enslaved girl to become aroused. Her brain has been rewired so that the pain feels erotic. The tatooist dabs her rump gently with a cloth then continues pricking, dabs and pricks. Again and again. Moving closer between her legs. Inkling makes little noises of sympathy and has to dab more often as she closes on the location of Roses rose. Inklings slim naked body often presses against Rose, the touches lingering. Trussed and trapped, Rose held her dignity until the first prick of the needle. Swollen and pert and full as her bottom was, it felt foreign and alien and unfamiliar. Then she began squirming and thrashing, the sensation a cross between a stinging slap and a feathery tickle. "Did you want release girl?" Inkling asks. "I think you do." Inkling slowly runs her fingers up between Roses legs. "So hot and moist. The slave bane. You have it had. Let me help." "I will be back soon," Calob says as he leaves Rose to her oddly erotic tatooing. Tattoos are taboo for free women. To be tattooed is shameful, marking her as a slut, declaring her lowly status. Jaise, a slim Slavegirl passing the tattooist store paused in the cobbled street and cocked her head, noticing Calob's unusual accent as being Confederation. Using her neural implant she pinged for his and felt a surge of excitement when it responded. Neural implants were not common on Acteon. They were used for Confederation citizens to visit Acteon. Temporarily for some. Permanently for others like her. There were at least eight in this town that she knew of. His was new. Significantly he had foolishly not encrypted his own connection and his implant linked to his original body in his ship. Better yet his new slave had a neural implant. There was scope to create a neural network... she could hack it... reset the link and use it to transfer into the knights body! Jaise swallowed. It wold be suspicious for a naked Slavegirl to follow a knight about. Jaise took the coin she had been given to buy her masters provisions and instead purchased a cloak from a nearby stall, mindful not to lose sight of the knight. Guiltily she cloaked her naked slave flesh. Her master would be angry at her disobedience but hopefully he would never punish her... *** By the time Calob left, Inkling was becoming annoyed at the thrashing, even as Rose was dripping wet between her legs. "Stop, please!" Rose gasped, breathily. "Sate me, free me, release me please!" Inkling dabs at Roselle's puckered buttock and looks about. "If your master returns and finds me eating you he'll be angry. My owner will have me whipped. And likely you'll feel the sting of the lash too." From her prostrate position Roselle can tell that Inkling is rather taken by the idea, if arousal can be taken as a measure of willingness. "I'll tell you what. You stop moving about and I'll use my spare hand on you..." Inkling suggests, her fingers slipping between Roselle's legs and delving under, tickling and sliding along the new slavegirls lips and finding her clit. Inkling gently tweaked and tugged on the little nub as she tattooed, small finger slipping between the moist folds. The sensation is mind numbingly good. She has to have more. Deeper. Harder faster. There is a crying and gasping and moaning. It's not coming from Inkling. "Do you like that slave. You do. Little lap dog... I can tell you were a refined lady. Once. Now you're as much a harlot as any other slave I tattoo. Strange how easily you've caved. You must have had some strong slave genes in you." another finger slips into Roselle. "You're gushing you horny little slut." She puts down the needle and starts to fondle herself as she thrusts her fingers into Roselle. "Mmmmm," Inkling moans. "You like a little prick?" There is a crying and a gasping and a moaning, and it didn't come from Inkling but from Roselle. Buck as she might, strain against her restraints, but Roselle was trapped, stuck fast by wrist and ankles, stuck on her belly, unable to do anything but writhe and squirm and moan with need. Still, the needle did its work, and Roselle knew that she was simply escaping from the pain into the pleasure. The pleasure would fade, but the sting of the needle would linger, and the shame of the tattoo, from rump to between her legs, would mark her forever. Unless... Roselle was in a state of dreamy ecstasy, heels locked into the feet board, arms pulling against the cuffs, body arched and contorted to bring her sopping wet sex right up into Inkling's fingers - and she was enjoying herself too. That was until a loud clang signalled the opening of the front gate, and heavy boots marched inexorably towards the room. "Wait, finish me off!" gasped Roselle. If Inkling succumbed to her passions, she might be able to escape without the slave tattoo! Seeing Roselle so at her mercy, so inarticulately lost in pleasure, so bound and futilely struggling made Inkling even more excited. She saw the fleeting shame on her canvas' face. "You'd do well to swallow that pride, forget your past and not dwell on what has been taken from you... take solace in your desirability to your master and fellow slaves. Wear the slave tattoo with humility and acceptance..." The words cut through the sexual pleasure and struck a chord that tingled and reverberated through Rose. Inkling grins as Roselle bucked against her fingers, gaze lazy and sex addled but the stomping of feet broke her sexual reverie and she picked up the needle and kept working. "Stop playing and get to work," her master ordered gruffly slapping Inkling's bare buttocks. "Yes master Scarle." Inkling nods meekly, immediately cowed. "Hmff, a tasty little bit of flesh. Noble born?" he asks. Inkling nods. "How the mighty have fallen milady," Inklings owner and master observed of Rose. Roselle did her best not to make a sound as Inkling continued to work. She failed. *** Meanwhile, Calob was realising he had troubles of his own. His ship in orbit, where his consciousness lay, was firing error warnings. Something about limited reception and broadcasting, and him needing to reset the consciousness transfer to continue his stay on Acteon. Drat, some sort of meteor storm or inconsiderate parking of spacecraft. Maybe... well, he could pick up his slave, retire to his room, and reset the spacecraft. Calob liked to think his consciousness was still in the ship. In truth it was not so simple. The loss of connection was of concern as without the connection he was trapped here in this host, unable to emerge from the stasis vat. There were worse bodies to be trapped in but he didn't want to be stuck here in this backwards world forever. He shuddered at the thought and tweaked the subdermal receiver. Nothing. "Fuck!" He headed back to the tattooist and collected his property. Jaise followed behind. She needed to stay close as her neural implant had limited range. Calob has evidently noticed her attempting access but she had disguised it well. She grinned. She might be getting off this barbaric world. Calob noticed how aroused Rose was, practically a pool of juices had dribbled from her lips. The tattoo was not complete, only the outline had been laid out. It was sufficient to mark her permanently as a slave. "Good work girl." He flicked a coin to Inkling. "That will have to do, untie her," he instructed and Inkling did as she was told. Calob took Roselle's leash and pulled her to her feet. Her nipples were erect and her eyes were clouded with need. He realised he wanted her. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "You look like you need something to blunt your desire. Come my horny little slavegirl, I would like to sheath my sword in your scabbard." He chuckled at the ridiculously lewd innuendo. Calob pulled her along down the streets, past respectable people who looked down their nose at a slave. They were unaware of Jaise shadowing them. Calob slowed their pace so Roselle could feel belittled. It was hard to believe she had be a proud and free noblewoman. Her demeanour and appearance was that of a slavegirl - naked, marked as property, afire with slave bane. Her breasts bobbed as she walked and he caressed them. She would be a wild thing in the bed. Roselle's knees buckled and she almost collapsed in the streets, legs turning to jelly, her body afire with desire. She hardly even minded Sir Wilfred's grope, even leaning into his hands so he could get a better grip. Her mind was driven wild with need and it was that that drove her down the street, eagerly following in his steps, ignoring the shame and the guilt and the humiliation. That, she would regret tomorrow. But now a fire had been ignited in her, and she had only desire. Calob led her into his inn and up to his chamber. He closed the door and chained her to the bed head. Then he kissed her lips and his hand moved down between her legs. "You're hot and ready..." He unbuckled his pants and pushed her back too the bed, slapping her thighs apart and gripping her legs. His aroused manhood stood between her legs. *** In the smoke filled common room of the inn below Jaise sat quietly back in an alcove and continued with her efforts to access the faux knights neural implant. A serving slave approached and timidly took her order. Jaise regarded the girl. Her equal. But it had not always been so. Once she had been a man of influence in the Confederation, a high ranking official in a mercantile and mining conglomerate that spanned several solar systems. Until he had been betrayed by a trusted underling and left here. Two years ago. She had been in the service of her master, a duke of the fiefdoms, since she had been swapped into this young slavegirls body. But soon she would escape. *** Pliant, pleading, Rose opened her legs to welcome him and let his sword slip inside her scabbard, as he had instructed. She almost choked with the sensation; it filled her up, provided her need, lifted her into another realm. It was exactly what she craved. She moaned. A minor buzz in his temple reminded Calob to check on the receiver, but that went away. Roselle was hot and warm and begging for it on the bed, under him, and she could not look more like a debased noble... "So slave prepare..." Calob felt the full confidence of an Acteon knight coursing through him as he took her. He didn't think of her as an equal despite her former status as a noblewoman. No she was a slave, property... His property. This was her purpose. On Acteon this was how it was. How it should be. It was right for her to moan with need, to beg to be taken. Her body was perfection, supple, soft, curved in all the right places. And she was lost to her need, all reason stripped from her, all restraint gone, unable to think beyond pleasing him. He grinned as he took her, teasing her slowly, making her want him all the more as he held her, controlled her, dictated the terms of their coupling. He nestled his head at her lips, pushing forward with a slow sureness. Then he moved back, watching her face grow even more frantic with need. Forward, pause, back. His borrowed body was so well endowed and he found his own need growing, but the satisfaction he received by tauntingly playing with her made him even more aroused. The power he held over her was intoxicating. "Beg my slave... Tell me how much you want it..." he said. He frowned feeling the link to his ship grow less strong. His vision blurred. He should see to that... After. When he pulled back to speak, Roselle let out a moan so sad it was almost heartbreaking. Almost. "Please! Please give it to me!" she gasped, almost frothing at the mouth. She rubbed herself against him and his member, clamping her slick, warm thighs around him in supplication. "Master. Master! Please, Master Knight, fuck me, fuck your slave!!" Calob felt his dominance of Roselle was complete. He decided to give her what she wanted as she had capitulated to her new slave urges and, well, he wanted to. He thrust into her. She was incredible. "Good girl," he said as he held himself within her. The drug was a success. He had no doubts Roselle would never have given in so utterly without its mind controlling effects. To take such a strong and independent free woman and reduce her to this... He pumped into her, watching her breasts bounce, her face lost in pleasure. "You like that don't you pet?" "Yes! Yes! Yes!" His pumps seemed to bring her over the edge, her back arching, hands flailing as she crested the edge of her orgasm. Of her first orgasm; she seemed simply to lose herself in the joy and pleasure of copulation. Independent of their twinning (as he felt his body exult in the power and dominance, and approach his own satisfaction), he began to detect, vaguely, the smell of coffee. The bean was rare and unknown to Acteon, and served as a signal indicator of the atrophying link to his ship. He should see to it...after. Meanwhile, his sex kitten mrowled and thrashed, exulting in him. He felt himself losing himself in her wonton moans. She had been so prim and proper, so virginal and restrained and now she was anything but. The smell was distracting but his better judgement was put on hold for this experience... he felt himself cross the line. He thrust home hard. Cumming. She bucked and thrashed under him, sharing his exultation, and they came, him finally, her yet again, together. The pleasure roared through his body and everything faded to blackness. SIGNAL LOST... SIGNAL LOST... SIGNAL L... SIGNAL FOUND. POOR SIGNAL. SIGNALS MAY BE CROSSED OR INTERFERED WITH. PLEASE RESET CONNECTION. *** Jaise swore. She'd almost had the link up between her and the knight connected. So close to freedom. But the link had not been created as intended, instead it had been misdirected. She needed to start again. She sighed and sipped her mead, wary that in her small body that it would affect her. She sighed. She had access to the ships memory banks. Absently she reviewed them, then paused as she realised something. There was lander nearby? She checked the ship's map. The lander was a too far to walk too but... well that was another possible avenue of escape. *** There was a storm outside. Rain was blowing in through the windows. Lightning flashed, and the rumble of thunder was so loud, it sounded as if it had struck the building. Sir Wilfred -- no, Calob -- felt strange. Odd. His hands were constricted, wrists moving as one, held above his head, and a heavy weight pressed down on him. It was a heavy arm in a leather sleeve across his chest. Everything felt numb and distant, but his body was warm, definitely, and there was somebody in bed with him. Somebody larger and heavier and warmer, holding him close. Somebody whose slumbering arm was gently brushing against the tips of his nipples, weighing across his... Breasts? "Oh no!" She breathed as the significance of mammaries, of being bound, of being in bed with a man implied here on Acteon. Was he... she a slave? Evidently so... but what type? Where? Who? Heavy, deep breaths caused his chest - no, now hers, to rise and fall like heavy weights. Looking about, Calob recognised the features of the room; the suit of armour in the corner, the familiar-looking pouch of coins, and that drab pattern of the ceiling. The panic, her movements managed to dislodge her from under the man. She could see pale flesh and thighs, moved as if they belonged to her. They did belong to her now, and she saw the outlines of a tattoo near the base of her belly. A tattoo in that prominent location could only mean... turning to her side, she saw the slumbering face of Sir Wilfred. That led to a single conclusion: Calob was now in the body of Roselle. She stared at her large pillowy soft breasts. They were new. And they were quite heavy. Were most breasts heavy? Possibly. Her nipples crinkled harder with a pleasant tingling sensation as she thought about her breasts. Her. She was thinking of herself in the feminine. Another new thing. The room was familiar. Larger than she recalled. But then her body was smaller. She was Roselle? The tattoo was clear confirmation as was Sir Wilfreds large, masculine and... dare she think it... Attractive body. She'd just been screwing this little slut's pussy and now she was her. Able to be screwed. Dribbling their juices... Why did that realisation excite her!? Because she was Roselle. The slave bane... It made her horny, sex obsessed and servile. The tingling and excitement was due to the modified slave bane coursing through her veins. Butterflies loosed in her stomach at that thought. It was affecting her thoughts. Accelerating her acclimatisation into the role of a slave. She pulled against her bindings. They were tight and firm. How had she ended up in Roselle's body? Roselle musthave a Nanite marker. Someone from the confederation must have used her body in the past. Had Roselle been occupied by a citizen? Had they swapped the signals? What if Roselle now occupied that big commanding body? Calob didn't want to be a woman. Didn't want to be a slave. Didn't want to be weak and powerless on this crude planet. She felt a tear well in her eye as she looked down at the weak female body she was now trapped in. The slave tattoo curled sinuously about her new nether regions. She was property. She found the thought frightening and damnably arousing. Confederation citizens often were trapped forever in slave bodies. That was bad. Very very bad. She sniffled and blinked away her tears. Nothing to do but wait for her master to awake. "Oh fuck!" Calob's old body -- now legally her Master, awoke after an interminable wait, snorting and rising to his feet immediately. He seemed a giant in size, and his muscles rippled and moved under his outfit. Then, a slow grin spread over his face as he looked down at Roselle, understanding that he was no longer a slave. Large and intimidating. Small and weak. They were diametrically different, their roles reversed. Calob sensed her masters new confidence and condescending amusement and it made her feel less in control if that were possible. He was so big. "The door was not locked. And the cuffs were not attached to the bedpost." Roselle shut the door and reached over her head, lifting her cuffs and sliding the chain around the head of the bedpost. Her eyes fixated upon the chain. Her chain. She swallowed. "You could've escaped, but you didn't want to, did you, slut? No. You just lay there, knowing your fate. How did we swap, even? But you wanted me to stay here and do this..." She shook her head, realising too late that she could have escaped as she tried to back away. Why hadn't she? Not for the reasons he suggested surely! Even if she left the room and took his purse she would remain a naked tattooed thrall, her social status clear to all. She had no friends or allies here. Ruthlessly, he slid a finger down Calob's belly, tracing a line down her pelvis to the tip of her new clitoris. The stray finger traced the rawly sensitive lines of the tattoo, spiralling in patterns around her swollen flower, her inner thighs and her hips, before dipping in for her sweet nectar. Her eyes widened in shock, surprise, fear, titilated pleasure, denial, protest, wonder and paralysed confusion. Her legs widened involuntarily. Her skin was so damned sensitive. Her mouth was dry. She felt like she would jump out of her skin. His touch was fire, igniting the blood and pulse beneath her skin. Calob felt as if every inch of her skin was reaching out to meet his finger and capture the sensations. The tracing of the patterns was an odd tickling, the soreness from the tattoo mixing with the sensual pleasure of the touch...and then he slipped the tips of his fingers into her. "Oh god..." she moaned, losing herself in his ministrations. The slave band had her small feminine body firmly in its grip. His fingers pulled back, a slick-sound followed by an odd pop. The sound of his fingers sliding out of her was acutely loud from her perspective, accompanied by a surge of lust that made her body shudder and tremble. It felt too good. Like a drug that she could not get enough of. "So it is you. Sir Wilfred. Not an Acteon knight, but an Offworlder. You picked a lousy day to buy a slave." "Wilfred? Yes. An Offworlder..." she readily replied. Too readily. With the slave bane corrupting her mind she could do naught but obey. She felt blissful as she cooperated with the big rugged man. Her master. The thought should have been like cold water in the face but instead it was fuzzy and pleasurable. She giggled, widening her legs even though a part of her was shocked. What was she doing?! "Where is your ship?" The chair was kicked away, the door opened. Calob found herself yanked by the cuff-links to her feet, then pressed against the doorframe so all could see in the corridor. Roselle slipped his wet fingertips into her mouth -- they tasted warm, faintly salty, like sweat, and smelled sweet, like her own musk. The wet fingertips were dragged out of the corners of her lips, down the line of her jaw, alongside the soft flesh of her neck over and around a single breast. "Tell me where is your ship..." Again into the mouth for a little more moisture. A cold, wet droplet ran down her shivering side as the fingers touched her again, anew, around a painfully swelling nipple and down the line of her ribs, poking through her skin, still soft. Tracing the line of her hips even as Roselle held the wrist-chains higher and forced her to stand again on tiptoes. "Tell me where your ship is, and I'll continue..." He roughly manipulate her, making her taste her own arousal. Being forced to sup upon her own juices was degrading and the callousness of his touch made her moist nethers tingle and she found herself seeping down her inner thighs in a most embarrassing and unfamiliar way. Of its own accord her tongue tentatively licked his fingers, muzzling his hand as she instinctively supplicated to him and sought his approval. Her nipples felt too hard. She felt splinters from the rough timbers prick her back but did not struggle. The chill trail of juices - saliva and more intimate ones - felt warm and messy - but messy was good. She wanted to be his dirty little slut. Her skin goose-bumped in his digits wake. Her nipple felt fit to burst as his taunting finger neared. "Ship?" The new Roselle breathed huskily. It was hard to think, gathering her sex dulled thoughts proved almost impossible. Outstretched on her tiptoes, chains biting her wrists, breasts flattened by her up reaching arms, her body completely at his mercy she shook her head with regret and looked up. "It's in orbit. It's not coming down." Her ship... Perhaps she could contact it. Reverse this. There were safety measures. A precise stunning orbital blast that would incapacitate those around her. The codes... 7689 THETA KRYA She thought using the Nanite link to the ship. The command commenced the swap. Roselle had just enough time to pull her back into the room, slam the door shut and push Calob unto the bed before it hit. BZZZZZZT Clinking. Breathing. Creaking wood. Light! Calob sat up on instinct, feeling his muscles responding with perfect coordination, moving him effortlessly. There was a warm sensation around his skin and a bulge between his legs. Him! He was Sir Wilfredrp again! Hurrah! Up before him, frozen in position, was Roselle, naked and dripping between her legs. Both tiny hands were on the door frame, trying to dislodge it open so she could escape. Apparently the door was slammed so hard the doorknob fell off. Meek, eyes wide opened, Roselle retreated into the corner, the heavy chain connecting her wrist cuffs clinking. Calob sighed in relief as he realised that he was back in control, male... He reached down between his legs and confirmed it. Yes male. He grinned as he looked at Roselle. "Well that's a relief. No escape for you girl. You..." He looked at her sex. That had briefly been his. It was disquieting. He had been her. She had been him. "We're both back where we belong." He moved over to her. "Now ... " He placed his hand under her chin. "Where were we?" Roselle's eyes darted between Calob's jaw, the door, between his legs and the window. Unconsciously, as her eyes watched him touch himself, her tongue ran over her swollen lips, moistening them, while her knees inched closer and she pressed her thighs together. "We were escaping like someone who doesn't want to be a slave!" Lowering her shoulder, she charged - awkwardly, unsteadily, breasts and wrists hobbling - to throw herself out of the window. As she tried to get away Calob grabbed her chain and pulled it up high so she stood to attention on tip toe. A weird sense of de ja vu accompanied the action. Of course. The chain held tight, Roselle found her wrists, then arms, then entire body held high, forcing her unto tentative tip-toes, swaying. Calob held her high, practically effortlessly lifting her with one arm. "Remember when we were doing this?" Calob asked, his other hand slapping her legs apart, his fingers probing into her, remembering the rough pleasure of it. "You're the slave. Not me. And you are the one who doesn't want to escape this fate. I'm in charge... You'll regret what you almost did." He slowly probed then extracted his fingers and brought them to her eyes. He inhaled the scent then pushed them into her mouth. She gasped as her thighs were spread apart, pale pink welts left from his fingers on her inner thighs, before the fingers probed into her and into her mouth. She grimaced as they went in, a look of pleasure dominating her face, before she managed to blurt out; "You wish you were the one being fingered, don't you?" Even as the fight went out of her body, as she spread her legs wide, as she sucked needfully at his fingers, her eyes tried to hold their gaze on him. She rubbed herself up and down against him, taking opportunity of his surprise to pull her mouth away from her fingers. "Are you sure you prefer to be the Master? Wouldn't you rather feel like this..." She lifted one foot and rubbed her leg against him. "I wish I was a servile slave like you?" He snorted derisively. The idea was no longer the least bit enticing now that he was a man again. "Hardly. I'm more than happy with feeling your body in this one." It was frightening how he had been stuck in the body and mindset of a slave. He led her over to the bed and pulled the chain higher, attaching it to a wall mounted hook. She dangled there as he sat on the bed, his fingers absently toying with her sex as he made connection with his ship. DIAGNOSTICS CHECK, he thought and ran through the system. No, it hadn't been a solar flare. Someone on Acteon had hacked the system and corrupted the mental connection. They had been trying to hijack his body and awaken it to escape. He felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. He'd nearly been stuck permanently as Roselle but by activating the defences he had knocked out the attacker. They must be nearby. The system needed to be rebooted before whoever was attempting the hack could try again. "Stay there." He ordered as he gripped her clit and gave it a firm squeeze. Then he stood and went outside. Whoever it was must be in the building... He went downstairs to the smoky tavern. He looked about, eyes falling on a cloaked figure in a dark alcove. Small, nervous, trying not to look at him. He chuckled as he walked over to the figure and grabbed them by the arm, making them stand. The cloaked figure let out a cry. A high pitched feminine sound. Without a care for the onlookers he lifted the girl and threw her over his shoulder, taking her up to his room, ignoring her feeble struggles. He threw her down on the bed and pulled open her cloak. Another slave girl, pale skinned, small breasted, dark haired, green eyes, slave brand... Hydrian stock. "So... You're the culprit," he accused. Jaise paled and her lower lip quivered. "Yes. Please master. It wasn't personal. I was just trying to escape. I do not belong here..." The new girl, the interloper, cowered, trying to make herself smaller and look helpless -- -helpless, hands bound above him, rough sheets beneath his naked bottom, a horrifying emptiness between his legs he needed, needed to be filled- Calob shook off the thought. It was powerful. Jaise watched him. Roselle watched him. In their eyes were fear and lust... But also opportunity? Roselle hissed something in an unknown language. "He is weak. He wishes to know what it is like to be a slave," Roselle said in one of the numerous Acteon tongues. "I am trying to hack his swapper. We need to be close to swap with him..." Jaise responded. TRANSLATION UNAVAILABLE, noted his mental console. Roselle hissed again, sibilants spraying as Jaise shed her cloak and ran over to Rose, sensing the opportunity. She kissed Roselle, hands exploring her body. Jaise realised that this woman had likely been born free, a noblewoman by the softness of her skin. Her breasts were larger than Jaise', she was taller and more commanding despite her chains. They kissed. Roselle affixed Calob with a stare, holding his gaze with evident desire. Jaise forced herself onto Roselle, lips pressing down on the defenceless girl, fingers finding her breasts and thighs... -powerlessness, helplessness, Roselle's strong body in control, hand grabbing his breasts roughly, reaching between his inner thighs, forcing their way into him- Calob swallowed. He could be one of these slaves... In his breeches, Calob discovered his erection. What was he thinking? "What is your name slave?" "Jaise Sir..." Jaise played with Rose as she looked fearfully up at the knight - as her mind worked furiously to over come the firewall that prevented her from swapping. She again tried to use the orbital link to swap with him but failed. So close to getting her manhood back and escaping her fate as a slave... She huddled contritely knowing she would be punished, the fear mingled with the constant arousal that she felt as a well bred slavegirl. It was a love hate relationship she had with her body. Jaise looked up at the knight and saw his hesitance. It gave her hope. She turned back to Rose. Calob watched the girls, aroused and intrigued. This little slave had tried to steal his body. What would that have been like... He held Roselle's gaze and his eyes narrowed forcing her to look down. He grunted as she lowered her eyes. Jaise moaned between kissing and pushing her finger into Roselle. She was very close to him. Bodily contact might allow her to swap - proximity would confuse the ship sensors. Hopefully ... she accessed the shipboard system. Whoever was coupling and orgasmed might swap... She might end up in Roselle's body, or -Calob's - she gleamed his name from the system. "Calob..." She said. She bent over so he could see her sex... She hoped to entice him. Hoped she did not cause Roselle to cum. Although being in that body might be better. It wasn't a slave bred body after all. "Wh-what are you doing?" Roselle gasped. Obviously, the slave drug had amped up her sensitivity, but she was exaggerating just how much Jaise was managing to do. "No, I'm helpless, don't put that there, I can't get away, unf --" Her voice trailed off, becoming a series of grunts and moans, as Roselle coaxed her body towards orgasm. Jaise was even starting to pant along, turned on by Roselle's noises. And Calob, well, Calob was transfixed by the petulant appetite of the tiny girl, and the helpless thrashing of Roselle as she was violated by a fellow slave, someone as low as her but elevated because she was not bound. To be bound, to be helpless, to be defiled by an ever lower slave...what would it feel like? To be debased... Roselle grunted, spotting Calob's growing erection, and knew her victory was at hand. "Ungh, no, don't finger me, help!" Calob unbuckled his breaches and kicked them off. He approached Jaise from behind and lay a hand upon her hip. He sensed that the pair were coaxing him but did not discern their intent. He looked down at Jaise. A former citizen of the confederation? How long had she been trapped here like this. He felt himself stir more, rising between her legs. The head of his manhood rested between her thighs at her hot, moist, puffy lips. Roselle's hedonistic whimpers of passion filled his ears as he pushed slowly into Jaise. She may have been a citizen once but she was a slave now and this was how slaves were treated. Jaise gasped and her tiny body shuddered as she was penetrated. Her fingers in Roselle twitched and the pressure in the former noble woman's loins increased, increasing her pleasure. Jaise hungrily kissed Roselle, the bound girls bindings being tested by the jerking and wriggling of Jaise as she was penetrated repeatedly. Roselle and Jaise locked gazes for a moment. Worth a chance. In an instant both began moaning. "Unf, oh, fuck me master!" Jaise needed less prompting and creativity, her moans coming in time with Calob's thrusts. Helpless, gagging for it, giving herself to him... Calob missed the interplay between the girls. He found their moans and gasps of passion to be ... Appropriate. "Two little slave girls." He pushed into Jaises snug sex. She was tight. She gasped in unfeigned lust. "A former citizen now a needy little thrall. You tried to steal my body but you failed. You're stuck like that, on your knees forever. You like that don't you girl?" Jaise nodded, all pretence gone. She was more than happy. She was ecstatic. Calob nodded lifted her up and away from Roselle so they were no longer touching. Jaise cried out and sobbed in need as he carried her to the wall and screwed her against it. Roselle could only watch as Jaise wrapped her legs and arms around Calob. "Oh god master. I'm going to cum... You are going to love this." Calob was thrusting into Jaise about to cum. This was his first experience with an Acteonese slavegirl bred to the role. Smaller she was a tight little cunt, her little breasts bouncing as she moaned. What sort of an idiot gets trapped as a submissive sex slave? As Calob grunted and glanced over to Roselle, she frowned and yelled aloud: "7689 THETA KRYA!" Everything went white. ... The world shifted as he felt his mind link reorientated, hormones, drugs and foreign neural patterns being suddenly imposed. The sensation of waking up was familiar, the fuzzy static sound in his ears, the cottony feeling in his mouth..and horrifyingly, the arms held above his head again. Bundling her into a ball, Roselle lifted Jaise and bundled her out of the door, before stepping forward, hand on Calob's chin. They had swapped bodies again, and now Roselle was the master, and her the slave... Confidence, cockiness, masculine perspective, a sense of mastery, the Acteon knights cruel self centred ego and superiority were suddenly no longer part of his mental makeup. His cock was gone, replaced by a maddeningly erect little clitoris and a warm tingling deep within. His nipples ached. Bound. At the mercy of Roselle. "I'm going to enjoy this..then I'm going to take you back to your ship and we can swap back. For now, though..." Roselle began teasing between Calob's legs, making her wet. "I'm going to make you scream, girl." Calob shook her head in denial as Roselle played between her legs. A whimper of need escaped her lips as she reflexively widened her legs and rocked her hips. "Please don't. I'm a man. This isn't my body... What I want ..." Her body wanted him. She had only just been in that body, thinking how right it was to screw these thralls . Now her role and thoughts were completely reversed. "Roselle, I can cure you of the slave drug. Free you. Give you anything you want. I give you my word." Her voice quavered between lust and sincerity. *** Meanwhile Jaise stood at the door panting in arousal and fuming in shock. So close. She'd nearly escaped. But Rose had used the over ride command. The ships systems now acknowledged Rose as the primary operator. And she doubted she could fool the pair a third time. Jaise listened intently at the door... she needed to get to the lander. Jaise turned and headed to her masters house. She needed to get a lizard mount... *** "Your word? The word of a slave?" Roselle mocked, stepping back and flexing his prodigious musculature. Even his shadow loomed large, dwarfing the smaller body Calob wore. "I think you will find that information more useful to your current body. Let me give you my word instead. Lead me to your ship and I promise to free you from your bonds. Do we have a covenant?" "Free me from my bonds... please?" She licked her lips feeling uncertain. In this body Calob no longer felt his equal and was negotiating from a point of weakness. Bound. Small. Female. A slavegirl. Weak. Her body quivering with fear and lust. She wanted to argue but ... Her instincts told her to accept his offer. Slavegirl instincts. Drug induced compliance. She fought against it, looked up at Roselle. Her master and owner. Sobering thought. "I want my body... Back. Please?" She hoped that Roselle wanted her own body back too. "I'll take you with me. You can't fly the ship. So we swap back. Deal." She didn't know what she'd do if he said no. She'd enslaved Roselle. Roselle would want payback. Especially in that body. To master her. She bit her lip and tried to hide from the seductiveness of that thought. "And no sex." She blurted. "No sex unless you want it," Roselle leered, licking his lips with his tongue. He took his time to extend the pink, fleshy thing out of his mouth, moistening his lips, making sure she caught every detail of motion. "Deal." Calob nodded in thanks, feeling a twinge of regret that she would not be getting sex unless she wanted it. Being taken... She shook her head. "Deal," she agreed, wondering if she would be able to hold off her new urges. Roselle had failed... But if she asked he might not. Perhaps she should give in now to ... No. She was a man, no matter that she wore a newly enslaved female body. She watched his tongue, intrigued by the possibilities, conscious of her nudity, her female flesh on display, her arms still bound above her head. It was erotic. She'd never felt like a sex object before and being objectified was naughty... Titilating. "No sex,"she reiterated huskily, her word sat odds with her bodies needs. Damn the drug was so strong. Roselle seemed to take his masculinity - as a matter of course. Like he had been born to it. He certainly seemed more than masculine enough. He was definitely in control. Who was Roselle to have nanites in his body? Clearly something more than a mere noblewoman. Perhaps a woman visiting. Or a man? She took to a male body too readily. Calob pulled against her bonds, her lithe body tensing, her breathing quickening as she pulled with all her meagre might. She was not able to budge. Her body glistened with sweat as her breasts rose and fell with her panting. Being helpless played into her new bodies sexual inclinations. Damn why was she getting excited by being so helpless? She rolled her eyes. She couldn't even pleasure herself. It was demeaning. But her arousal only grew.she looked about the dingy little room, a room that seemed so much larger now. Where she was the one tied to the bed for the pleasure of the resident. She sighed, wondering at the new smells, the way things looked and sounded different. Her senses in this body were different. Her stomach rumbled. Eating... And that would lead to going to the toilet. That was not something she wanted. She looked down at the tattoo. So different. *** Returning from outside the door, Roselle reappeared with a loaf of bread and a bowl of stew. Breaking off a small slice of bread, he ladled some stew into the bread on his palm and extended it towards Calob. "Come on, then, girl, time to eat." This was undignified, like she was a pet, some mans lapdog. But she was hungry and ate from his fingers with relish. It was... Nice. She felt a sense of gratitude at her masters benevolence. He wasn't so bad. Kind. Handsome. Such an imposingly handsome body just right to... Her sex burned as she thought of being his bitch. She bit her lip and took another bite of the proffered food. "We leave this planet together." Roselle took his time, slowly feeding Calob morsel after morsel out of his palm until she was full. His eyes lit up and his grin widened each time he brought the food to Calob's lips and she lapped it up from his hands. When he was done, he wiped her lips with a rag. He unbuckled the strip of leather around his waist and wound it twice, three times around the svelte neck of Calob, slightly loose so it would rattle around her neck. A single twist of silver wire completed the makeshift collar. "Time to finish the tattoo." Wrapping one meaty hand around Calob's legs, he hoisted her so she was sitting on her shoulder, and marched back to the tattoo shop. It was a short walk, but Roselle was a tall man, and it felt as if Calob was being put on display, elevated so all could get a look at her naked body, bound by chains, wet between the legs, generous breasts bouncing...and an obvious slave collar around her neck. Men and women alike paused at the sight of the slave girl being displayed so prominently, as if a prize, the warrior claiming the noblewoman as slave. Being carried, naked, on display was exciting. She pressed her legs together to hid her arousal but she could feel the eyes on her, saw them looking in amusement. Her mound and lips and clitoris. Her female parts... It was unfair. Her soft curves felt good against Roselles body. As long as she didn't ask he wouldn't take her. But she could ask. No she couldn't. Her heart beat as her thoughts bounced from one extreme to the other. "Finish the tattoo," Roselle announced as he re-entered the tattoo parlour and set Calob back on the platform, foisted from his shoulder and put in the tattoo seat, legs wide, her face going red at her obvious arousal so openly on display. Wet and hot. That was her sex. Inkling grinned as the slim Slavegirl got to work. "We don't need to do this. I'm not a slave," Calob protested. It sounded false to her ears. Her voice was husky and quavered with ill suppressed need. She blushed in shame. She was undoubtedly a slave. And the tattoo about her loins proved it. The way it circled her sex so erotically. She had to admit she sort of liked it. So brazen and slutty it aroused her. Where had that thought come from? She looked up at Roselle. Her owner. Her master. She hoped he liked what he saw. Inkling grinned as she brought the needle closer and closer. "Would master like her clit tattooed. Red? Purple? Pink? My it's so flushed." She flicked it. Calob's eyes widened and she moaned. Her new clit was so sensitive. Incredibly so. More than she could believe. Better than her cock ever felt and instead of a tingling of her balls and a swelling of her shaft her lips swelled open, her insides tingling receptively, eager to be filled. Her swollen clit was all the sensitive nerves clustered so tight on such a small nub. She nodded, panting with lust. Being a slave was such a turn on. "What my slave wants...my slave gets," Roselle observed. Calob gave Roselle as angry a look as she could, inhaling sharply in pleasured pain, the needle pricking her sensitive mons and moved distract-fully towards her utterly swollen clit. "Slave!?" She whimpered. Saying it felt right and so wrong. Roselle was finishing off the ritual of enslavement. Clearly he had no intention of returning to this body as a slave. He must intend for her to remain trapped in this body, enslaved with no hope of freedom. The thought made her terrified and moister. She grew unbearably aroused at the thought of her unending servitude and obeisance. Her clit throbbed with pleasure not unlike her former penis but intimately more intense. Over the next three hours - though it seemed an eternity - Inkling completed the tattoo on Calob. The cool kiss and hot bite of the needle traced everywhere beneath Calob's hips, running up and down the inside of her thighs, across and round her buttocks, and along her most sensitive lips. The torment was agony, especially as Inkling disappeared and returned with even more cuffs and bindings, weighing down Calob's arms and legs and hips so she could barely move. She struggled in her chains and looked down between her generous breasts to watch Inkling at work. It was mesmerising. The brightly inked skin around her loins was raw and tender but the drug made it pleasurable. Then as the needle pricked her clit she cried out with utter abandon and came. Her first female orgasm. Her first of many over the next three hours. Inkling weighed her body down with more chains. Trapped. Helpless. At the mercy of another weak female slave who seemed to enjoy this sexual torment. The needle played over her body, repetitive, ritualistically, amping up her arousal, moving from one erogenous zone to the next with unrelenting methodical purpose. The tattoo grew larger and larger, consuming her skin, marking her and defining her role. There was a certainty to her fate as she shuddered and moaned and gasped. It was almost teasing. Painstakingly, slowly, pausing every so often to change needles and inks, and inks, and turning Calob not so often unto her side and back, Inkling completed the tattoo that marked all of Calob's parts as available for use and an invitation to look. "There. How was that? All done." Inkling set aside the needle and began to gently huff, blowing cool breath across the sore, stinging warm of Calob's nether regions. Calob nearly swooned as Inkling finished and blew upon her sweat lathered skin. She moaned and nodded. It looked incredible. Fantastic. Her lovely body was a work of art and she knew that it would always be on display now. She blushed in embarrassment, horrified by how pleaded she was. Everyone would be drawn to look at her, to explore her body to discover how the tattoo interacted with her breasts, rump, loins, belly, navel, flanks, sex, back and shoulders. "Your work is lovely and... thank you." She breathed in gratitude. "You will never wear clothes again," Inkling smirked. "They will want you on display to everyone." Calob shook her head in silent denial at Inkling's declaration, but it sounded true to her ears. The thought of being naked and on display for the remainder of her life was ... Confusing. On one hand it was anathema to her male thinking. On the other it made her moist with arousal, giddy with excitement... It was music to her slavegirl ears. She wasn't a slavegirl... But she was reacting like one. Calob bit her lip coyly as she reluctantly admired the tattoo that adorned her nethers. She concedes that it's execution was masterful and it served to accentuate her feminine sex. The thought of displaying such erotic art made her heart hammer in her chest. "Naked?" She whispered. She looked at Inklings naked body. Naked was the natural state of a slave. They were both slaves. Inkling accepted her status whilst Calob struggled futilely against it. Roselle returned, grinning widely. "You look fantastic. Come. I must show you off." She looked across at her returning master. Roselle, finding herself beaming at the compliment. Her lovely large breasted body did look incredible and she was uncomfortably proud her master appreciated it. He was so handsome. She should let him take her at least once. She yearned to know how it felt. She shook her head to fight of the surge of desire and subservient affection. This was the bastard who had emasculated and enslaved her. Tattooed her painfully and indignantly. Roselle was a true woman. Roselle should be the Slave not the master. Grabbing her leash in a mockery of Calob's thoughts, he marched out to a nearby fountain square. Chaining her leash to a sculpture, he wandered over to a nearby stall and sat, drinking tea, leaving her perched at the crossroads, without a stitch on her, the tattoo brazen and colourful, inviting all to look. She knew what he was doing. Demeaning her. Her body needed sex. Her arousal was intense. Her incredibly erect nipples and dripping sex made it all the more degrading. Her body was ripe with need and there was no way to hide it. She tried to cover her nipples but touching them made it worse. She could not conceal her aching sex. Her brightly inked and tender sex was boldly highlighted. It was clear that she was a former noble not slave bred. A new slave. Freshly marked. An uncertain and bewildered thrall. There were two problems with tugging on her chain; the first was the weight, which soon tired her spindly arms, and the second was the noise, which drew a crowd. Calob's weak arms quickly tired which was rather humiliating she wasn't very strong in this female body. When she lifted her gaze to look at where Roselle had been, he had gone. Another group had taken his table. That was most disconcerting - her master was no longer about. Slaves were property and property left unattended had a habit of being claimed by others. She looked about nervously. She didn't want to be stolen. She had been left alone and naked beside the fountain. The thought played upon her new bodies drug induced sexuality. A kidnapped slave... Her sex clenched at the thought. Helpless... Her nipples grew hard as diamonds and her heart hammered. Forever lost... She bit her lip trying to curb her thoughts. Trying to deny that she wanted to be a nameless masters fuckpet. The thought made her clench her legs together. Shamed she stared at the ground and ignored her audience. A fat trader sniggered and leered, licking his lips. A couple of dark- haired horse guards pointed and stared. A beggar without teeth cackled and touched himself. "Whoo-wee boys, we've got a show to watch!" It was difficult to ignore, especially the beggar pleasuring himself loudly in the front. They all stand over her, even the beggar has more status. At least in a town square theft seems less likely and for some reason the attention pleases her. She was a sight. Desirable. Beautiful. Her nudity brazenly on display. "Look at that tattoo!" She felt shame at her lowly status as proclaimed by her fresh tattoo but also... Pride. She found her hands moving to allow the crowd to look and admire Inklings masterful work. The tattoo interpolated with her bodies contours perfectly, the dragon coiling sensually about her. She widened her legs to show them it's head and tongue, its claws which seemed to press her thighs apart. A slaves vanity. When all she had was her body, and even that was owned by her master, it was good to be noticed. "What a slut!" a noble woman mocked and Calob coloured and nodded. She was a slut. A virgin slut. It was true. She couldn't deny it. She wanted to embrace it. "Hey, she used to be a noblewoman!" It was true. It was almost as shameful if they'd said she used to be a man. She was a slave now. That she had been otherwise before made her thraldom all the more acute. "Whore!" Not yet. But soon perhaps. She was a painted little strumpet. The accusation felt true. She was guilty of the charge. She nodded and bit her lip. The tattoo burned on her skin, in the attention of all their gazes. She grew wet between her legs with the thought of each or all of them approaching her and taking her...and almost in accordance to her wishes, a shadow loomed over her and a hand reached for her. She pulled petulantly on her chains. This was not the sexual experience that she had wanted on Acteon. But what if she was trapped like this?! The notion made her horny as fuck. She started to play with her nether lips. It felt so good. Her clit was so sensitive. Her hands shook as she forced them away. She looked up at her master. "Let's go to the vessel," she pleaded, voice shaking with barely checked need. "Yes my pet..." he agreed. "Let us purchase a lizard mount." *** Soon they were in a forest, Roselle mounted on a quadriped lizard. Calob was unceremoniously slung across the neck of the lizard-beast, bouncing on her belly on the neck of the creature. She had briefly tried to sit behind the knight but her rawly tattooed ass and loins were much too sensitive. While the creature moved at a relentless pace, Roselle was bounced around unceremoniously. Roselle reined the lizard in and lifted Calob easily unto his lap, cuddling her naked body in his muscular arms. Being bent over like this was humbling but she could curl up a little and avoid discomfort some. In one of his hands, Rose held a hastily scrawled map. "We are here now, out of the town...mountains are there, rivers are here. Where is your ship, slave?" Calob looked across. Pointed. The lander's chameleon field faltered and dissipated as they approached. Hitching the lizard to a tree, Roselle led Calob roughly towards the door. "Get the ship started. Get it's ... um the autopilot ... ready for flight...and then we'll see where we can both go, eh?" Roselle grinned and kissed Calob roughly. "Or maybe I'll just leave you here while I get help. Would you like that? A week on Acteon, I won't be here to watch...you can focus on enjoying yourself..." Idly, Roselle traced the patterns on the girl's lower belly. Calob looked up at Roselle and shook her head. She was not going to stay on this planet if she could help it. She moved to the airlock and typed in her access codes. She then entered and moved to the controls, prepping the autopilot for takeoff. "It's set for voice commands." She said then moved to access the swapping machinery. She would swap back to her original body, get rid of her needy little pussy... "I think not." With ease, Roselle picked her up, one hand under a shoulder and another between her legs, easily slotting her into one of the wall-mounted seats for passengers. Rather than strap her in, Roselle used the seatbelts to bind her wrists behind her back and her waist to the seat, leaving her squirming helplessly in the seat. "No more swapping... Yet." Roselle, with help from Calob, took some time to verbally program the lander to return to orbit where Calob's interstellar ship lay, and then sat awkwardly in the pilot's chair. Unnoticed by the pair Jaise snuck aboard the ship and climbed stealthily into a small storage cabinet to hide. In no time at all, the ship began to take off, and soon they were in orbit, the automated systems docking with Calob's intergalactic vessel. "Now then... Where did you say your home planet was?" Rose stood by the airlock and looked through it with a grin. A number of cryopods lined the corridor, Calob's original body in one of them. That was where knight Wilfred's consciousness was. Being bound up in her ship with her male body just beyond her grasp was frustration heaped upon frustration. Calob noted with growing concern how easily Roselle operated the ship using verbal commands. He was of Acteon but knew of the Confederation ... Most important though the only body which could legally leave Acteon was her original male body. Would he send her back to Acteon when she told him all that he wanted? It didn't matter. She had to tell him, the slave drugs hold was too strong. "Please. Its... Theta Nova... Take me with you. You can keep me hidden." Calob swallowed. "I'll be your slave nd help you. Don't leave me here..." She could accept this body, be his slave, if it kept her from being an Acteonese slave girl. "Please... Master." She had to submit to him. She widened her legs. Offering her body. She swallowed in fear, her submission shameful but necessary. If she convinced him he might take her with him. She could not fight him now. Roselle hesitantly put the ship in drift and turned in his pilot's seat, grinning widely. "Really? You'll be my thrall, just like that? You want this..?" he rose to stand over her, fingers stroking the inside of her thighs, hands reaching out to free her wrists from the seatbelts. He unfettered her hands, then he freed his erect member from the pants of his jumpsuit. "You want this in you, don't you, slave girl?" Calob nodded at Roselle's first question. If she could stay off Acteon she would. She had no desire to be fully enslaved on that primitive planet. Admittedly she would be a non person in the Confederation, in constant fear of being deported back to Acteon. She wouldn't exist legally - like so many people that did menial tasks under the radar in the confederacy. She would need to remain a thrall if she wanted to have anything close to her old affluent life. Wealth by association. She would be screwed by him. A lot. And she knew that she'd love it in this body with the drug affecting it... The thought was alien but it set off butterflies in her stomach. She would need to give herself to him. It would be her former cock in her. The thought was weird. He touched the inside of her thigh. She looked down past the unfamiliar swell of her breasts to see his hand near her sex. So close. She actually wanted him to play with her. It was the drug but she didn't care. He could take her. She was his. Calob tried not to grimace and forced a smile. On a rational level she believed she didn't want this. She fervently hoped she never would. Still, she had to convince Rose to keep her with him... And the truth of the matter was that he was right. A part of her, a primal, instinctive part, wanted this. She looked at his cock nervously, her desire strong, her fear almost it's equal. She climbed from the seat to her knees, the durasteel deck cold. Slaves kneeled before their master and she was a slave. She held her arms against her naked breasts as she looked up. She licked her lips and turned about bending over. "Please master. This is my first time." She bit her lip, waiting for her master to take her. She didn't need to feign arousal. It was clear. Her nipples hardened against the metal deck. Her breasts felt so big. Her sex throbbed. "Please take me." She moved her ass higher so he could take her. "I'm yours. Don't throw me away." Gods, she had wanted to manipulate him into taking her with him but she meant it. She wanted to be taken and not left behind. "Master." She needed to be his. Her mouth was dry as she reached out with her small hands to splay her lips for him. Rose gripped her hips and positioned his thick cock at Calob's lips. "Hmm. I have to admit I am intrigued..." he pushed the head into her and Calob shuddered, pushing back to meet his first thrust, the sensation of cock filling her exquisite. She suddenly found her vision swimming, her thoughts scattering as sexual need took control. She fucked him with abandon, hips rocking as she moved along his length. She loved being fucked. It was like a drug. He gripped her hips and pounded into her with unrelenting lust. "Mmmm. My former pussy feels incredible wrapped around my new... oh... mmm... woah... I... Oh..." he gripped her and thrust into her quivering cunt, ejaculating deep in her womb. Calob moaned and closed her eyes, savouring what she though the consummation of their deal. Rose pulled out of her and Calob gasped as her cunt leaked juices down her thighs Rose toyed playfully with Calob's tattooed sex then rose up, his juice covered cock before the girl. Nervously Calob licked her lips and then the head of his large slick cock. Rose gripped her hair and pushed her head forward. Calob gagged as the thick cock filled her mouth, semen dribbling to her chin. It smelt masculine and of her pussy. The nipples at the end of her heavy breasts grew hard and erect as she sucked hungrily on the cock that had once been hers. Rose sighed as he face fucked her. Calob lovingly fondled the balls that rested against her pretty chin, mouth stretching as Rose increased his pace. Calob gagged as she tried to take as much into her mouth as she could. "You'll need to become a better cocksucker if you want me to keep you..." Roselle observed with a patronising air. He rather enjoyed her mouth wrapped around his cock but was not about to tell her. The look of concern on her face was priceless. This bitch was getting what she deserved though. He motioned for her to continue. There was a noise from the closet and Rose frowned, sliding his cock out of her mouth. "What was that?" Rose asked. He moved past Calob to the storage cupboard and opened it to see Jaise tightly pressed amongst the equipment there. "Well then. Hello. We have a stowaway..." Rose observed. "Jaise, wasn't it?" Jaise looked up from her hiding place guiltily, blinking as she regarded Rose' erect cock. She wore a cloak and slave silks. "Yes sir... I... I was hoping I could catch a lift," she explained hopefully, eyes fixated on his cock. "Hmmm. This is interesting," Rose said as he regarded her small girlish form. Jaise shrugged. "Please. I just wanted off the planet..." she begged. "I was exiled here in this body..." Rose grinned. "I'm sure I can get you off." Calob approached and looked down at the smaller girl. Jaise was a bred slave. Sixth generation Hydrian. This was not a good thing. "Um. Rose... Er, I can reverse the effects of the slave drug, remove the tattoo in the med lab and return you to your home..." Calob offered. "No one will ever know you were a slave." Rose looked from Jaise to Calob, a grin splitting his face. Calob didn't like that grin. "Hmmm. Before I might have taken you up on the offer. But I think I like being a man..." Rose said. "And if I go back to my old life... well I might be tempted to take the slave bane." "Well there is Sir Wilfred. You could keep his knights body and he could take my current body, be Roselle... or Jaise'," Calob suggested hopefully. She knew she was betraying Wilfred but her own livelihood took priority. "Hmmm. Perhaps. Yes I think I will keep Sir Wilfred's body. It's superior to your male body. He shall have my original but I think it shall remain a slave. And you Calob, you shall take Jaise' slave body. Jaise shall take your confederation body... yes. That will be fair... Jaise. Is that acceptable to you?" Rose asked. Jaise nodded. "Yes. Very." She grinned. Calob eyed Jaise's tiny body with concern. Her current body, Roselle's Noble woman body stood at six foot seven inches with large D-cup breasts and pleasing curves. Wilfred stood at six foot three, all muscle. Jaise stood in at four foot eleven. Smallish C-cup breasts that looked large on her tiny frame. But Jaise was a slave bred of Hydrian stock. A complete thrall. "With your new slave drug I think you'll be insatiable Calob. A total fuckpet. Jaise. You can decide whether you want to keep Calob or send her back to Acteon with me. Wilfred and I will return home to Acteon. I have no real desire to see the confederation... now... swapping." With Jaise' assistance Rose swapped Jaise and an unhappy Calob. Calob struggled against Rose but to no avail. Finding herself in Jaise's body was odd. She looked up at the figures towering above her feeling so small and weak. Oversexed. That was how she felt. Calob looked up at Jaise in Rose' body. She realised that she truly had no understanding of Acteon slavegirl's. Her body tingled and she felt compelled to submissive obedience. It was a mystery how Jaise had managed to resist these urges and escape. "Please... this is too much." Calob said. Her new body screamed sex. Then Rose gripped her chin and forced her to take her own medicine. The effects of the drug on Calob's already heightened libido was extreme. "Oh fuck..." Calob moaned as she stripped and started to fondle her new pussy with a vengeance. A few minutes later Jaise returned in Calob's male confederation body. Calob literally threw herself at him. *** Roselle watched her former body as Wilfred groaned and awoke. Then the former knight stiffened at the clearly female tone of her new voice. Roselle had not allowed Calob to dress and so Wilfred could look down and see the two generous breasts on her chest. Her eyes widened. "Calob! What have you done. This wasn't the deal. You use my body to test and sell your new drug and then we spot... Ouch. Why is my crotch and ass so sore!?" She grumbled. She tilted her head to look at her freshly tattooed sex, her hand tracing the dragon under to her ass crack. "A dragon? My own crest?" She shivered as her body reacted to her own touch. Rose laughed and pushed her hand away, then thumbed her sex gently in a way he knew she would enjoy. "Well yes. You're my slave and I'm Sir Wilfred now. The drug is a success and you'll certainly reap the rewards of it, just not how you expected. I was a free noble woman before Calob gave it too me. But Calob didn't secure his neural link and he by his own negligence ended up in my body. A right horny slut... I fucked her properly. Calob is a good little slave now... and so are you." Wilfred shuddered at the touch on her privates. "No... please..." she struggled against the drug, legs spreading, hips thrusting slowly, eyes glazing over as raw sexual arousal and submissiveness clouded her mind. She grew fevered. "Oh... god... no... I'm no girl! No ... slave." She argued with Rose and herself. Her conviction was already wavering as the reality of her situation grew abundantly clear. It felt so good. So right. She wanted to give in. Needed too. "No..." she moaned huskily, a quivering too her voice. Her rational mind said no but her body said yes. Rose laughed. "Why sir knight. The lady doth protest too much, methinks..." he ran a finger along her lips up to her hood too her clit. The girl arched her back, unable to resist the pleasurable sensations she was being subjected too. Her nethers felt incredible, a groan escaping her lips as her clit swelled pleasurably. She felt her nipples harden and grow fat, aching to be touched. Without thought her small, slim fingered hand reached up to play with her breast. Her nipples and the rounded flesh of her breast were deliciously erogenous. His hand traced up her mons and the smoothness of her gently rounded belly and he gripped her narrow waist. She watched mesmerised as he unbuckled his britches and removed them. She stared at his half erect cock. That was hers. A possessive desire burned in her belly. Her cock... for her. She swallowed meekly. Then he lifted her in his powerful hands. Her eyes widened as their bodies pressed into each other, her rounded breasts moulding to his muscular form, nipples teased by his chest hair his unshaven chin rubbing roughly against her cheek, his moustache tickling. The cock she wanted rising upwards. Bulbous head against her inner thighs. He lowered her slowly and she whimpered with virginal need, afraid, confused, utterly aroused, in his control and revelling in her submissive sensuality. The thick cock rubbed vertically along her lips, furrowing them, wetness anointing his shaft, labia swelling and moulding against it, clitoris feeling every vein and minute contour of the shaft as she wrapped her legs about him and pressed into him, cock head against her belly. He rocked his hips and kissed her hungrily and she squirmed with fretful need, returning his kiss passionately as they frigged, grinding against each other. "You want my cock in your belly don't you slave? Your dragon needs to be slain by my sword..." "God yes!" Wilfred moaned, beyond thought, beyond reason. With a knowing chuckle he easily lifted her and his cock retreated along its path, the head flicking out to press against her puckered labial lips, then pushing them apart to press deeper to her vulva, aligning with her vagina. He thrust into her muscular canal slowly, and the nerves that lined its moist walls filled her mind with new pleasure. Slowly he slid into her, controlling her descent into her new sexual state. She felt herself stretching as she took his girth inside her, deeper and deeper till his cock rested against her cervix. She found new muscles within her that clenched instinctively about his cock. In this position her clit rested at his pubis, the hairs exciting her pea sized nub. She shuddered and then he started to stroke in and out of her. She rode his glorious cock, slimly curved legs wrapped about him, hot sweaty body pressed against his, his strong callused hands holding her up. Her inarticulate, passionate moans and gasps and cries filled the air as she rode him to her first unmanning orgasm. But he kept going as the pleasure washed over her like a wave. It retreated then crashed over her again. She was lost in the frenzied coupling. Again she orgasmed. Loudly. Welty. Unashamedly. "Oh god... yes!" Rose thrust his cock into his former pussy and his vision swam as he felt his balls tense as he came. "Hmmm Yes," he agreed as he filled her with his seed. "I think this is the start of something incredible." He observed as he slid out of the former knight. He let her to her knees and then guided her mouth to his cock. The head pressed against her mouth and before Wilfred knew what she was doing she was on her knees, cum dribbling from her pussy and licking his cock clean. She reached a hand to her sex, fingering herself as her head bobbed. "All clean. Good girl," rose observed as he pushed her off his cock. She was displeased as she tried to understand. Rose turned and went back to the ships common room. There he saw Calob now in Jaise' small slavegirl body under the common room table. Her former body, now possessed by Jaise, was sitting at the table as she sucked his cock. "Hmmm. Calob seems adept at that." Rose laughed. "Hmm. What she lacks in skill she makes up with enthusiasm. So have you decided what you're doing?" he asked. "I will return to Acteon. I think I will keep this male body. I like the idea of Wilfred in my former body as my slave. She is suited to the role. You?" Rose asked. "I have friends in the confederation. I will take Calob back with me. I might keep her like that. Or else I might take my revenge on the one who betrayed me. Most likely the latter. Is there a swapper I can take with me?" Jaise strokes his chin and used the neural link to examine the ships inventory. "Hmm. Yes. Normally I'd be reluctant to leave a swapper on a protested planet but I expect you'll use it wisely. There are a great deal of injustices that could be righted..." he observed then went to the med lab to retrieve it. He returned with a hypo. "I found this. It's a subdermal regulator for Calob's little slave drug. Once the regulator is in place it will continually produce the drug... I think we should test it..." Jaise suggested. Calob shivered at the possibilities as Jaise used the hypo, injecting it in her small rounded ass. Jaise then passed it to Rose. Wilfred balked at the notion. Rose took the injector and, grinning, injected Wilfred's left nipple. The girl let out a cry. Then rose injected her right nipple. "Just to be sure. I don't want her getting any ideas of escape or revenge. Well she can dream but that should stop her from acting on them. I'm definitely not returning to my former body..." Rose turned to Wilfred. "Are you ready to return home." Wilfred looked up. "No. Please no. I'm no girl. I don't ... I can't do this," Wilfred begged, fearful at the thought of living the remainder of her life as she was. She was scared. She started to cry. "Oh. Then perhaps you shouldn't have agreed to traffic in a more potent slave drug. You men... you deserve this. I'm going to take the ships swapper and make it my mission to free as many slaves and enslave as many sexist, shallow men... so don't fear. You'll have plenty of company. And you're hardly an utter Slavegirl..."he reached between her legs and quelled her thoughts with a tickling of her quim.