SPACE GIRLS FOR SALE 1
by Gabriella Balboa
Lieutenant Ellenora staggered amidst the sentries escorting her to center
stage. A standing-room-only audience made no secret of it's excitement. Gasps
and whistles sounded off row by row as her bare feet softly padded down the
aisle.
It was easy to understand the female officer's appeal. She was stark naked;
bound with shapely arms behind her torso. Every inch of her flawless skin had
been glossed with a slippery coating of oil. Her big, pear-shaped tits jiggled
provocatively with every step.
Although she had pleaded guilty to inter-planetary espionage, Ellenora appeared
far from a willing participant. Her demeanor was one of crushed spirit: as
penitent and tearful as a Jimmy Swagert confession.
The Cortolians had been the reason for her dismay.
Ellenora had been bound over To them for punishment and now,
after weeks of training, would be auctioned off at a secret Drone Rouge
venue. And for a very handsome profit!
Pliant bamboo canes jabbed at her hind cheeks, prodding her with all the
elegance of a pig being herded to a ham factory. Her magnificent bottom and
sexy thighs were not unfamiliar with the wands playing patty-cake. Over the
past cosmo-month, those areas had been scourged more times then she cared to
remember. Her elegant back, bare tits, shaved pussy; even the soles of her feet
had also been thoroughly indoctrinated.
She'd spent so many hours writhing under the lash, that she'd lost all sense of
place and time.
With tits lewdly jutted, and nude body glimmering with sweat, Lieutenant
Ellenora was now just a... Space girl for sale!
Spectators applauded as the woman was urged up the stage steps. Spotlights
blazed down, tracking her every quivering movement; highlighting every aspect
of her stunning femininity: angelic face, lollapalooza lips, broad shoulders,
lithe arms, big jiggling tits, lovely abdomen, awesome hips, cheeky ass, satiny
thighs, sleek calves, curvaceous feet, long toes, flawless skin, and an overall
voluptuousness so breathtaking, Gandhi himself might've been tempted to grab
for a lash!
Having endured a stringent training protocol, Ellenora was now completely
broken and obedient. Her blue eyes stared straight ahead; heavily lidded;
glazed over.
Once up on the auction platform, she pirouetted to face the potential buyers;
then docilely sank to her knees. Her big titties flopped as she thudded to the
floorboards. Sweat droplets rolled as she hugely straddled her thighs.
The audience gasped in approval. She'd already been fully ringed.
A golden hoop hung from her nose, having been pierced through the delicate
septum between flared nostrils. The gleaming ornament draped completely over
her upper lip. Similar rings were dangling from her ears, nipples, cunt lips,
belly-button, and clit! A thicker pair, with attached eyelets, were cinched
around each thumb and big toe. The adornment had been thorough; not at all
stingy.
Multiple hoops wherever they fit --- that was the Cortolian way!
All of Ellenora's pubic hair had been removed. Her most private parts now stood
wantonly bare. The straddled posture lurched her bald labia hugely open, and
jingling all the way. To the audience's delight, sleigh bells had been
suspended from her pussy-rings.
A latex ball-gag occupied Ellenora's mouth. The attached straps were tightly
buckled at base of her skull. With gullet so reliably plugged, her nostrils
flared like a spooked mare's. In fitting fashion, what was left of her
luxurious mane, a 'Mohawk' of sorts, had been gathered into a ponytail --- it's
ebony curls sweeping her upper back and shoulders whenever she moved.
The sides of her scalp had been shaved shiny bald. Her hairline had been
razored a full inch backward, but thick eyebrows left untouched! (At least for
now.)
Tattoos permanently altered her appearance: black eyeliner, lavender eyelids;
ruby-red ink for the lips. An identification-number rimmed her asshole. The
Cortolians' trademark, 'crossed sabers', would forever embellish the soles of
her sexy feet.
A group of swarthy centurions surrounded the naked woman. It was time for the
presentation to began.
Ellenora grimaced as a pair of scoundrels fingered her nipple rings and pulled
upward. Her tits were drawn into elongated cones; folded backwards against
either shoulder. Her body shivered. Sweat trickled down the soft insides of her
straddled thighs, pooling under her knees and bare feet. With titties so
crudely pinned back, the southern half of her pliable glands caught some sun;
the usually dark crevice between tit-bag and ribs stood gloriously exposed.
A thunderous ovation made it abundantly clear Ellenora had no allies in the
Drone Rouge Quadrant.
After a daunting exhibition, during which time the kneeling slave displayed her
charms by wiggling to stage right; then stage left; then back to center, the
men abruptly released her rings. Ellenora's jumbo titties wildly flopped and
rebounded; slowly resuming their wobbling jut.
A turban-clad Bogladite began whispering her statistics into a microphone.
Murmurs buzzed throughout the auditorium as the rag-head jabbered away. Bursts
of applause resounded.
"Age: thirty six."
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
"Tits: forty two double-D."
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
"Weight: one hundred and forty-five pounds."
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
"Height: five feet eight inches."
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
"Heritage: Sicilian-Earthling."
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
"Special Traits: superbly stretched cunt and asshole, formidable deep throat
skills,..."
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
"...educated in toilet arts,..."
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
"...and well acclimated to udder suspension!"
CLAP! CLAP! ZABBA! ZABBA! ZABBA! BOZOG! BOZOG!
As the cheering and cat-calls grew more extroverted, Ellenora felt a pair of
pliant bamboo wands begin to gently probe her bare titties.
Each baton skillfully teased, first tickling and probing the droopy cones; then
drawing circles around their crinkly aureoles; flicking the long nipples like
they were toggle switches. Then slipping under each gland and lifting upward,
lewdly jiggling them --- unquestionably revealing them to au-natural.
Lastly, the wands were raised high in the air, and, as the crowd let loose with
a roaring cheer, descended with a back draft of ferocious whooshes!
CRACK! CRACK!
"GGGRRRRRGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAHHHH"
The batons slashed down without prejudice. Ellenora raged uncontrollably --- a
fit so bestial, that an electrocution would have seemed stylish by comparison.
Her jaw's locked into a spastic grimace, looking like she were trying to chew
through concrete. Had the ball-gag been any less robust, it would've been
cleaved for sure. A web of veins throbbed fat and blue on either side of her
shaved temples. Her lips curled; saliva hissed between bared teeth; eyeballs
rolled altogether backwards! Her flogged cones lurched ferociously, recoiling
as if they'd been drop-kicked by Pele' himself. Pee spattered the floor.
Anguished grunting and farting dominated the soundscape. Spittle and sweat made
the air heavy with dew.
Ellenora kept her bags well jutted, however, demonstrating that she'd been
trained well. Nothing perks up a potential buyer more then a tit-flogged whore
sticking her glands out for more!
It was Cortolian dogma!
The scoundrels re-cocked their beefy arms. The pliant rods screamed down a
second time. Ellenora's floppers were literally folded in half as the canes
sliced across her nipples.
Her torso jolted like an over-cranked jack-in-a-box; titties flopped so
savagely that it might've registered on the outpost's Richter-scale! Her toes
furiously drummed; bunghole burped without pause. Perspiration puddles began
rolling off the stage.
The audience broke into feverish applause. Solely for their entertainment, the
prisoner's tits would be flogged to the blood. In unison, they shouted
encouragement to the taskmasters!
"Bozoog! Bozoog! Boo-Bolly-Bozoog!"
The rag-head with the microphone jabbered on; bamboo continued to whistle.
Ellenora's rosebuds had become the target-du-jour; slashed by blow after
menacing blow.
The Cortolians' motive --- make 'total obedience' the only option-button still
blinking in the poor slut's brain.
Spectators quickly embraced the rhythm, clapping with every wicked stroke.
Ellenora's skin was awash with perspiration; glistening like she'd been
swimming in sequins. Her girl-bags twisted and flopped, lurching in ungainly
orbits, slapping together with sweat-wet smacking noises; spattering brine as
each whip-stroke cracked home.
When her haunches reeled in bone-bending spasm, hinting that collapse was
looming, one of the centurions fisted her pony tail, leaned back on his heels,
and wrenched upward.
Another duo grabbed her nipple rings, dragging in opposite directions.
Ellenora's face flushed deeply, quaking in embarrassment! Her long toes stood
fanned and clawed; gouging at the stage in an effort to keep herself erect;
sleek leg muscles twitching away.
The final whip-strokes were slated for the underbellies of her hauled-apart
cones. She knew it, and surrendered in the most complete way!
The once demure female, relieved her bladder --- right down her satiny inner
thighs.
When the scourging concluded, spectators leaped to a standing ovation, (or at
least those with legs did. The Duginga's, who had no lower appendages, simply
slapped their fins!).
Ellenora's big tits rolled to a saggy jut.
The scoundrels who'd flogged her, now playfully lifted and jiggled the pliant
bags.
Crimson droplets zig-zagged down her weaving torso; dripping from her bald
pussy like juice from a crushed plum.
And it was only the beginning of the show!
