The Emperor’s Daughter
By Razor7826 (Copyright 2008)
My arms distended painfully as I dangled from the ceiling of my cell. Whip marks discolored and rose above my sore and naked body. As usual, cum caked my inner thighs and stuck them together, a constant reminder of the recent months spent as a sexual object. I cried for help into that black rubber ball gag, but no help had come. Months as a toy, raped almost endlessly, and not a single one of my followers had done anything to alleviate my torment.
Gregory Flint entered with an entourage of women following closely behind him. All of them walked up with their backs straight, perfect and proud posture of their newfound superiority. Though they each looked far different than when they were still under my care, I recognized them all. They were all my victims from a single disastrous attempt at discipline. Visions of that day still haunted my memory.
The women wore elaborate and tight clothing that covered them from neck to wrist to ankle, while makeup masked their faces. I knew the reason for such conservative clothing. They were from the days of experimentation, when were still testing the interrogation equipment that Daddy had sent me.
The Emperor’s Daughter ate breakfast in bed while her new commander of operations went over the daily essentials. Prisoner count was up, revenue was up, and her father’s newest set of equipment had been successfully installed.
She asked, “How did the test runs go?”
The commander looked away, disappointed. “The lubricant pump failed mid-run. The suspect was damaged far more than intended, and the doctors say it may take months for her to heal.
“That won’t do.”
“Of course not, Mistress. We will tone down the settings to prevent such damage to their bodies.
Laura sighed and put down her glass of orange juice. “Is that the only way?”
“What do you mean, mistress?”
“I mean the settings. I understand the desire to spare their bodies from permanent damage, but do you really have to go gentler on her?”
The commander paused to ponder Laura’s request, but she continued.
“If the damage is as severe as you say it is, then there is something wrong outside of the original operating parameters. Shouldn’t we fix those problems explicitly?”
“But, mistress, who knows how much damage will be wrought as we experiment adjust the equipment…?
“That is not my problem. Make it so.”
The Emperor’s Daughter returned her attention to the morning’s newspaper. As usual, it abstained from presenting news of the recent rebel attacks and subsequent crackdown that had shattered dozens of notable families and filled her prison. Her father had given her a mission personally in a rare face-to-face meeting between Father and Daughter: make an example of these women, at any price.
Laura did not care to check on the mechanics’ progress until after dinner. By the time she arrived in the engineering bay, the tests were already entering their twelfth hour.
Eight women, each strapped to what at first glance appeared to be black leather chairs, circled the room. Only on further inspection could their sinister purpose be perceived. Black straps locked their ankles, thighs, wrists, and forearms firmly into place. Tangles of multi-colored wires and tubes trailed from the distant corners of the hall to the women’s breasts, latching on to their nipples by transparent suction cups stained white from the unending lactation. Beneath the chairs and visible between their spread legs, pairs of dildos reamed in and out of their cunts and asses. The patterns were erratic, sometimes simple up and down, back and forth, but frequently swaying from side to side or rotating. Fluids splash from their bottoms, a mixture of bodily fluids and the excessive lubricant warranted by the chair’s designers.
However, two of the women stood out from the rest of the pack. Their faces betrayed not pain and suffering like the others, but shock; no fluids splashed from beneath their chairs. They were victims of the lubricant malfunction that the commander had spoken of. Pained gasps escaped their lips and blood trickled from their holes, the dildos pulling back and forth ferociously without lubricant save for whatever the women could offer.
It was not enough.
“Two of them appear to be broken.”
“We’re still working on that, Laura. We should have it fixed within a few hours; some of the tubes dried and cracked during shipment, but we should be getting the replacement parts within an hour.”
“Oh, I was referring to the women, but that’s good.”
“What should we do with the milk?”
Laura paused for a moment before coming up with an idea. “Bottle it, label it, and send it to their families. Send guards to make sure that they drink it.”
The guard squirmed upon hearing the demands, but nodded and exited the room, leaving Laura to peruse the gallery of prisoners. There were eight of them, all upper-class nobles from both Garlin and the neighboring city states. Or, more precisely, former city states. They were all part of the Kampf Empire now, despite the works of the rebellious women in front of her. She savored in their misery before leaving.
The Emperor’s Daughter was woken just after midnight by a pale faced commander.
“There’s been a widespread malfunction.”
“A power surge, we suspect. It damaged your father’s equipment.”
She sprinted from the room to survey the damage, afraid that she had managed to destroy her father’s gift in only a day. However, Laura soon realized that the equipment was not the source of her commander’s worry.
The eight noble women were being led from the torture chamber on stretchers. Though white sheets covered their bodies, trickles of blood soaked through. Six of the woman cried, while two stared off into the ceiling, appearing lifeless save for the subtle heaving of their breaths.
“Well, looks like they need some more maintenance.” She gave her orders than returned to bed, not even phased by the horrible sight she had just witnessed.
“No, no, no!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Of all the indignities and tortures my captors had put me through, none were as terrifying as these machines. I had saw what they did to the women forced to use them, and even the slightest possibility of ending up like those mentally ruined and destroyed lumps of bruised and cut flesh terrified me to my bone. I sprinted to the side and huddled in the corner, but the guards grabbed my arms and carried me towards one of the chairs. They pushed me into the rape machine as I thrashed and squirmed, but they held me down limb my limb and fastened the numerous straps tightly. The thick leather wrapped against my ankles, thighs, wrists, elbows, forearms, neck, and forehead held me tightly in place.
“Please, don’t do this!” I screamed.
Gregory Flint’s laugh echoed throughout the high-ceiling chamber. “So now you beg? After all we’ve done to you, now is the time at which you finally take a stand like the childish girl that you are?”
The machines’ previous victims stared at me. Vacant eyed and sorrowful souls with scars covering their body from punishments I demanded. “I’m… I’m sorry!” I yelled.
“Yes, yes, I’m sorry for everything I ever did to my prisoners, sorry for everything my father did. Please, please, please, don’t do this to me!”
The guards pretended like I spoke not a word and continued the preparations. They stuck the clear plastic cups onto my nipples and flipped a switch, creating enough suction for them to stick but not enough to pry milk from my breasts. They reached underneath the chair and adjusted the dildos’ positions, placing them just outside my cunt and anus. I could feel the rounded tips of the simulated penises and imagined them gouging my insides like they did to
Gregory Flint kneeled in front of my and placed his hand on my thigh. He stroked it gently in a way that he never touched me before. It sent a chill down my spine. “Laura, let me ask you a question. In all your years as ruler of this hell on Earth, how many prisoners did you spare? How many did you let go without some horrific lesson?”
I didn’t even need to think back. The answer was none. Not a soul was spared from my brutality. But… there were some exceptions. Some cases where I held back.
“I… I let your daughter go after a single night.”
His face contorted with rage. He pulled his hand back, clenched it into a fist, and punched me in my lower stomach. “A single night? She killed herself a month later because of what you did. Do you not understand what impact rape can have on a person?”
I understood completely. I had endured months of suffering at their hands, every bit as brutal as what I had inflicted on my own prisoners. But I was still sane. I was still able to think, to reflect on my surroundings, to wish for revenge and hope for my rescue. I was strong willed. The other women were just weak.
“We have nothing more to say, Laura.” He turned to his guards. “Men, try to make sure she doesn’t die, though if you fail, I won’t really care otherwise.
For the first time since I was a little girl, I prayed. I prayed for salvation, from this torture and all others. The equipment hummed to life, and my days of hell began.
A squirting noise and cold splash against my bottom signaled my lubrication. The dildo began spinning and pushed inside, and I screamed in pain. I tried to buck them from my body, but I was so thoroughly bound that I couldn’t even move an inch. For the first time in my life, I was at the complete mercy of a machine. The objects pushed, prodded, turned, and pulled at my insides, the lubricant not nearly strong enough to prevent pain. The friction hurt, but I knew it could be worse.
Soon the suction cups sprang to life. The first splash of milk clouded the clear plastic. The second splash deepened the shade of white, and the rest passed pass without visible hue. My back arched and my tits bounced with each painful pull as they forced lactation. It hurt far more than I imagined.
How many days did they leave me like that? I drifted in and out of consciousness as the dildos rammed my insides and pushed in as far as possible while those cups suctioned away. I thought it would get better. I thought I would get used to it, but I was wrong. My health deteriorated, my breasts ran dry. Soon, the sucking on my tits faded to burning pain and my lower regions began to bleed.
Though alone, I begged for mercy in my hoarse and weak voice. I apologized for all that I ever did, but the torture continued without an end in sight. Gregory Flint shook me awake numerous times to check my progress and rub in his victory, while the guards fed me trace amounts of water.
I awoke back in my cell. Gauze bandages encircled my thigh and waist. My joints ached from thrashing against the restraints. My tits were sucked raw. And, worst of all, I didn’t know if I’d ever desire to have sex again. But, for all my suffering, there was a silver lining. My prayers were answered, and I was eternally thankful that the machines worked properly, knowing full well what would happen if any number of parts malfunctioned. It was as if there was a higher power that wanted me to survive, so I could get revenge against the monsters that defiled me.
Hours later, when I was once again hungry, the hatch opened and a small tray was carefully slid inside.
It was a dish of milk. My milk.
I retreated back into the corner. Though those monsters had stolen much from me, I retained my dignity. I was the Emperor’s Daughter, future heir to his empire, and I would not play into their sadistic games unless by force.
The hours dragged by, and as my hunger and thirst grew my eyes kept returning to that little tray. I was tempted to flip it over and spill it into the drain to remove the possibility once and for all, but each time I grabbed it in my hands, I placed it gently down, knowing that I would eventually need to drink it to survive.
And that moment soon came. I grabbed the dish with both my hands and held it to my mouth. It was disgusting—lukewarm and thin. I tilted it back and drank it down, suppressing my gag reflex. I returned to the corner and cried myself to sleep.
I awoke to a commotion in the hall. Pained screams echoed through the prison.
The door opened and my eyes accustomed to the light. In its path was a silhouette.
“We’re here, Empress. You’re finally free.”
Other shadows joined his sides and echoed, “Hail the Empress!”
It was time to retake my throne.
To be continued…