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Rated: GC · Short Story · LGBTQ+ · #1675980
Petra tries to deal with a difficult situation
Whatever it Takes

Bedelia watched as Petra got up off the examining table and put her gown on. There was a tray of half eaten breakfast on a table next to her bed. She began to chew on a crust of bread. On the wall was a calendar with a big X on Friday the 13th.

Petra, can you hear me vized Bedelia.

Petra looked up with a start. "Bedelia, is that you?" She got quickly to her feet and walked over to the edge of the bars peering down the hall.

Yes it's me, who the heck did you think it was?

“How did you get here?” she asked.

I snuck in with Guiles. Didn’t expect to find you here. Everyone thinks you’re dead.

“I was taken prisoner.”

Have they hurt you?”

“Things were a little rough at first…“ she paused. “How long have you been in my head Bedelia.?”

Long enough to see what that Bitch did to you.

“Welcome to the Barn yard.”

What are you going to do when she comes back tonight?

“Whatever it takes.”

I was thinking, since you really don’t have any choice, maybe you could play her along.

“What do you mean by that?”

Maybe you could sweet talk her into some untainted water…maybe get her to leave a drop of musk, every now and then…get the drift?

“That’s a thought…but if you haven’t figured it out yet, there’s a price to pay for favors around here.”

I know. I had no right to bring it up.

“No I’m glad you did…it’s a good idea. First clear my mind and then begin reconstituting my powers.”

It’ll be tough, but maybe you could get something to hold over her head…

“It’s worth a try.”

You have to hang on and be ready, Petra. I don’t know how but I swear, I’ll get you out of here…but you have to be ready when the time comes.

“I love you Bedelia,” said Petra starting to cry. “This is the first real hope I've seen since arriving.”

I love you too Petra, What’s it been like? Were you able to resist?

“I tried to fight it at first but Creed, my Bondsman, bulled his way into my head and found out about the rats.”

Oh noooo!

“You remember during the siege, when the rats were swarming everywhere? How they got all over me one night and I woke up screaming?”

How could I forget?

“Well, he got a cage full of mean and hungry ones and turned them loose in my cell.”

SON-OF-A-BITCH!

“I went totally berserk. Now, all he has to do is shake the cage at me. I've become totally compliant.”

Who do they plan to mate you with?

“With Creedor. He’s a back bred Simian…back bred to a Golden. That’s something the Apes hate worse than anything. They see it as a sort of incest, a threat to the continuity of their blood line.”

What about us…aren’t we a threat?

“We are, I suppose, but as long as we don’t breed back into their gene pool they could really care less. They see themselves as the seminal blood stock from which men, dwarves and elves derived. They see everyone else as inferior and if a Golden breaks the prohibition, the penalty is death.”

Who is this Creedor?

“A VIP around here. He runs all the psychic interdiction for the Republic. He was at the gorge when I was taken and is heavily involved in security.”

What’s he like?

“He’s twisted and perverse. When I was captured, and still had my vitality, he knuckled my powers with ease. I was amazed by the strength of his presence and how quickly he brought me to my knees. He’s ruthless and cruel, without a shred of pity or remorse. He does as he pleases and things get done the way he wants or there's hell to pay. I ticked him off once and he almost drowned me. That's the night he introduced me to the rats... the night I quit trying to be a hero.”

Do you know someone around here named Horance?

“Yeah, he came to me in a sort of vision, while I was still playing, Brave Girl. He told me to cut it out and do whatever the frack they told me. That the only goal of an Elf, taken and brought here, was to stay alive. Sometimes he slips through a crack in my mind and cheers me up. He’s been an anchor.”

Where is he?

“He did something recently that really frazed them, and they moved him from the tower to the dungeon block. Still they treat him with kids gloves… he’s very important.”

Why so?

“Because he’s a wizard and can breed with a Golden. From what I’ve heard he’s the only one that can do that. He’s our Father, Bedelia.”

Bedelia was stunned…

“ Surprised me too. He told me all about Mom and how proud he was of me… serving in the SOF and all that.”

Do you know what happened to Cracious?

“They took him to Corinth, when they brought me here. That’s all I know.”

How has it been since you got here?

“At first my head was black cladded, while they siphoned off my powers. After two weeks they removed the psych shroud and now milk me down once a day, to make sure I don’t hurt anyone. After that I was transferred to this holding cell where I’m being prepped for breeding.”

When will that happen?

She pointed to the calendar with the big red X and shrugged her shoulders.

Be brave, Petra, hang in there.

“What other choice is there? What do you plan to do?”

Whatever I can, Petra, whatever I can.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------


That night Hilda stopped by. “I told the guards I had to look in on you.”

She unlocked the cell door and locked it behind her. The smell of lilacs mixed with anxious sweat permeated her body. “Strip.” she said.

Petra stood up and took her gown off. Beneath it she was naked.

Hilda took the leather prod off her belt and pulled up a stool. “Strut your stuff “she ordered.

The young woman walked up to her, curtsied, and pirouetted around.

“Nice, nice, very nice indeed.” Hilda was wearing a wrap around skirt. She untied the draw revealing her naked lower body and spread her thighs.

“Come over here and get down on your knees.”

Petra took a deep breath, walked over and complied. The smell of musk and stale urine filled her nostrils. The matron put the prod beneath each breast and lifted. Then she rested it on Petra’s cheek, moving her face from side to side.

“Come closer,” she ordered, scooting up. Taking the vial of aphrodisiac she poured a quarter cup. “Drink this,.”

“If I do Matron Hilda, would you please bring me some unspiked water.”

Hilda looked nervously over her shoulder. “You do for me and I’ll do for you. Now bottoms up.”

The matron took some of the special lotion and began spreading it around. First the shoulders and then rubbing it into her neck, Opening a jar of lilac salve she dabbed some under Petra’s nostrils.

The young woman started and almost came out of her skin. Hilda began to massage as arousal reared its vulgar head and desire began to surged though Petra’s veins. Without ceremony, Hilda took her by the hair and pulled her face between her legs. The smell, once repugnant was no longer quite so offensive. On the contrary it became more and more compelling, and the young woman began to nibble her handler’s flesh.

“A little higher, a little higher,” said the Matron, there that’s the spot, now sex me with your tongue.”

Petra, began darting it in and out…

“Deeper, deeper,” implored the Matron.

The Simian clutched her hips and buried her face in the swirl of black hair. Her long tongue stretched out, arching at the tip and began a rythmic stroke.

With a groan Hilda began squirming, holding the young woman by her pointed ears; gyrating on the stool. She climaxed without warning, and surprised by the intensity, almost fell off backwards.

Petra smiled, her face smeared with dookey snot, and a glazed look in her eyes.

“You are such a sweetheart,” said the Handler. “Tomorrow I might bring you a little present.”


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