STARGÅTE SG-1—Sam & Janet (& Jennifer Hailey) in...
		A WORK OF BONDAGE FAN-FICTION—by Van ©2007
		Chapter 8

ON THE AIRSHIP...

---

Sam and Janet were carried to an area of the deck well away from the rails and out of the crew's way, then unceremoniously deposited on the hard planks.  As Janet's bonds were much less stringent than Sam's Grimbor-applied, elaborate and punishing bondage, she managed to squirm and wiggle the short distance required to bring her to her friend's side without much difficulty.  She gazed into Sam's exhausted face, and was surprised (and relieved) when her friend winked.  Janet sighed through her gag, then lay flat and snuggled as close to Sam as possible.  They rested their heads on the deck and watched their captors.

The ground force—the amazons in the camouflaged bandeaus, loincloths, and body-paint—were stowing their rifles in racks and removing their boots and equipment harnesses.  Meanwhile, unpainted amazons in gray "bikini-uniforms", and without boots, were stowing the boarding ropes and performing other routine shipboard tasks.  The captives surmised the gray-clad women were the regular airship crew—which meant the camouflaged warriors were probably either marines or soldiers.

Crew members toting sloshing buckets appeared, and the soldiers began stripping off their bandeaus and loincloths and using soapy sponges to scrub the paint from their bodies.  Once clean, they poured water over their heads, then rubbed a thick, clear oil on their skin, coating every square inch and slicking back their hair.  Getting themselves clean and oiled was a communal project, involving a great deal of mutual scrubbing, rubbing, and hair combing.

Kyna was a part of the group, and once she was clean and oiled, she walked over to the captives.  "Get the war-slaves cleaned up," she ordered, then pointed at Sam.  "And cut the Grimbors' bonds from Straw-head."

Several of her naked, glistening troops carried their buckets over to Sam and Janet.  Water was dumped over their bodies and they were soaped and scrubbed.  Janet entertained her captors with gagged complaints and token, squirming resistance, but Sam simply relaxed in her bonds and let her captors do their work.

A pair of amazons produced knives and severed the cords binding Sam's fingers and toes.  Next, they cut the laces of the gag-panel covering her mouth and the ropes of the underlying bit-gag harness.  Sam managed to expel the leather ball and wooden bit from her mouth, and worked her aching jaw.  "Thank you," she said, weakly, but none of the amazons acknowledged her gratitude.  They severed her remaining bonds with practiced efficiency, then helped her to to her feet.

Sam's skin was a spiderweb of pink indentions from head to toe.  "Look at those rope-marks," one of the amazons remarked.  "The stinky little bastards!"

"Get some salve," Kyna ordered, and a jar of clear ointment appeared.  Sam stood on her unsteady feet as several amazons applied the greasy paste to her body.  She closed her eyes and gasped.  It had a slight sting, but the initial discomfort faded rapidly and was replaced by a warm, pleasant burn.  Oil, the same oil the amazons had applied to themselves, was rubbed over the salve, then combed through Sam's short blond locks, slicking them back.

An amazon approached with coils of rope in her hands, but Kyna made a blocking gesture.  She turned to face Sam.  "I'd like to let the salve heal your rope-burns," she said.  "If you give me your parole, you will not be bound."

Sam pointed down at Janet.  "And my friend?"  Janet's skin and hair had also been oiled, but her bonds and gag were intact.

Kyna smiled.  "I'm afraid we must take full precautions with the little healer.  It is too big a risk to have her on the rampage."  The amazons laughed.  Janet favored them all with a withering gagged scowl, and Sam struggled to suppress a smile.  Despite their captivity, they were obviously better off with these brunette warriors than in the tiny hands of her former captors.

Sam focused on Kyna's face.  "Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, United States Air Force," she said, formally.

"I am Kyna, War-Captain, as I told you before, Loo-ten-ant Kur-nell..."  Kyna frowned.  "Your words are too foreign for an old warrior.  What should I call you?"

Sam managed a weak smile.  "You don't look that old.  Call me Sam, and I accept your parole."

Kyna nodded, and her smile returned.

"I must warn you, War-captain," Sam continued, "in my culture it is a prisoner-of-war's duty to escape."

"I understand," Kyna responded.  "Among the Pardesse, my people, a slave-of-war may attempt escape and has the right of challenge, before formal enslavement.  Your parole is not your freedom.  That is something I do not have the power to grant."  She gestured towards Janet.  "Bring your companion," she ordered, turned, and walked away.

On the deck of an airship—hundreds, if not thousands of feet in the air—surrounded by more than a dozen naked, glistening amazons—now was clearly not the moment for escape.  Sam knelt and scooped her bound and gagged friend into her arms.  "Sorry, Janet," she whispered.

Janet favored her friend with what was probably a good-natured, mock scowl, but the gag made her expression difficult to read.

Sam smiled, and followed Kyna towards a door in the large deck house on the airship's stern.  The remaining amazons were close behind.

One of the airship crew paused in her duties.  "You jungle-cats get all the fun!" she complained to the passing amazons.  They laughed in response.

'Fun'? Sam wondered.  What kind of fun?  She noticed a puzzled frown on Janet's face as her fellow "war-slave" pondered the same question.

BACK IN THE CITY...

---

Maintaining her hand-gag, Charis dragged Hailey to a shallow alcove near the door.  She deftly switched hands and tapped her pinkie ring to a small panel.  The back of the alcove slid open, revealing several hooks, shelves, and racks laden with hanks of coiled rope, balls of twine, coiled or hanging leather straps, and various leather and steel gags, harnesses, blindfolds, helmets and hoods.  She selected a simple ball-gag.

Hailey knew what was coming, but could only manage a single syllable of protest before the ball was in her mouth and the strap buckled at the nape of her neck.  She watched as Charis selected a simple leather leash and snapped its clip to the ring of her collar. 

Charis straightened Hailey's hair and gazed into her eyes.  "Oh, Little Flower," she sighed. "I knew you would be a challenge and a pleasure... but I never thought I would become so fond of you, so quickly."  She continued stroking her captive's hair.  "Just another slave-student... like others before.  Exotic, foreign, alien, yes... but just another task assigned by Mistress... just another palace toy to be broken in."  She leaned forward and kissed Hailey's forehead.  "I should never have brought you here, to a place where we might encounter our Mistress.  You simply weren't ready."  She slipped her wrist through the loop in the end of the leash, gave it a tug, and led Hailey close to the suspended slave.

Hailey regarded the strained and helpless body of the bound, gagged, and blindfolded prisoner.  The piteous, anonymous woman hung in her bonds.  Her skin was still glistening with sweat, but her breathing had returned to a normal rhythm.

"You'd probably like to rescue her," Charis said, putting an arm over Hailey's shoulders and pulling her close.  "But those are the feelings of a warrior, Little Flower.  I'm sure my slave-sister can think of a thousand places she'd rather be, right now.  But tonight... she will be the envy of every slave in the palace."   She turned to face Hailey.  "I would love to comfort her, to reassure her that all will be well, that our Mistress' bed is every bit the paradise she has heard described, that our Mistress is a generous lover... but it is not my place to intrude.  This is her time, her adventure, and my duty takes me—takes us—elsewhere."

Hailey stared at the slave's glistening sex, then her leash snapped taut and she was led away.  Crazy! she mused.  They're all crazy!

Charis was a pace ahead, leading Hailey through a maze of corridors.  They climbed a flight of stairs, then continued down more corridors.  They passed other slaves, solitary or in small groups, performing various tasks or carrying burdens.  All were collared, like Charis and Hailey, and most were wearing simple loincloths of black-dyed linen.  All paused in their labors as the parade of two passed, to smile at Charis, mumble a polite greeting, and gaze at Hailey with open curiosity.

Finally, they entered a large, circular chamber with a high, domed ceiling.  Hailey's eyes popped wide.  It was a torture chamber.  It could be nothing else. 

There was a chair constructed of heavy timbers.  It was festooned with eye-bolts, cleats, and other lashing points, as well as numerous dangling leather straps, some thick and broad, and some thin and narrow.  Its most alarming feature was its lack of any real seat.  It was more a frame to secure a victim in a sitting pose than an actual chair.

Next to the chair was a rack, also of heavy wood timbers, a narrow, waist-high table with a windlass mechanism at either end.

And next to the rack was what appeared to be an iron maiden, a standing cabinet in the shape of the female form.  The front was a pair of clamshell doors.  They were standing open, and the interior was lined with countless steel spikes.  They appeared to be needle-sharp.

There was more, but before Hailey could continue her inspection, something dropped over her head and she could see only darkness.  It was a bag of black silk.  She complained through her gag as Charis drew the bag's drawstring tight and tied a knot.  There was enough air leaking through the tightly woven cloth and under the string to allow her to breath, but it was totally opaque.

"Down!" Charis snapped, at the same time tapping the back of Hailey's knees.

Hailey knelt, and was pushed back onto her rump and into a cross-legged position.  Her leash snapped taut, she was forced to bend forward, and the end of the leash looped and tightened around her ankles.

"Wait here," Charis said.

A pointless command, if ever there was one, Hailey fumed. 

"I have to find other slaves to implement our Mistress' orders," Charis added, then padded away.

Hailey squirmed in her bonds and mewled through her gag.  Seconds passed, and she heard what might have been the torture chamber's door sliding closed.  It was difficult to tell.  She groped with her fingers, questing for a knot or some weakness in the rope binding her arms to her sides and her wrists at the small of her back.  It was pointless, and she knew it, but she had to try.  She knew that the key knot, the elegant, even decorative rope flower that would have to be untied for her to gain her freedom, was between her breasts.  It might as well have been back on earth.

What was going to happen?  Zanta had ordered punishment for Hailey and Charis, but had only specified that it be "memorable and creative".  So... what was going to happen?

Hailey remembered her SERE training.  Making a victim wait for their torture was a common tactic.  Whatever they were going to do to her... to them, would be bad enough.  There was no point in doing her captors' work for them by imaging the worst.  Her one regret from her encounter with "Zanta the Cruel" was that the smug bitch had decided to punish Charis as well.  She didn't regret her failure to act like a terrified, simpering slave... but Charis didn't deserve to pay for her resistance.  Maybe in the twisted logic of the Pardesse slave culture the teacher deserved to suffer for her student's transgressions, but Hailey suspected Zanta was just being a sadistic bitch!

SERE training! Hailey reminded herself.  She cleared her mind—and directed her thoughts to happier times.  She remembered the pride she'd felt on Graduation Day at the Air Force Academy.  Her family had been there, of course, but so had then Major Carter... and her mentor had personally handed her her first orders, for Second Lieutenant Jennifer Hailey to report to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex to assist in "Deep Space Radar Telemetry Research".  That was only a cover, of course.  She'd made the cut!  ...at least, the initial cut!  She was in the SGC!  There was a lot of rigorous training and evaluation ahead, for her to stay there, but she knew she could do it!

Hailey relaxed in her bonds.  What would happen, would happen... but Zanta was still a bitch!

MEANWHILE, BACK ON THE AIRSHIP...

---

Sam carried Janet across the threshold of the deck house.  The far wall was an arcing expanse of dark glass, a window wall looking out from the airship's stern.  It was still "double eclipse", with both suns behind the gas giant, but there was enough of a glow for Sam to make out the dark terrain below against the indigo, star-studded sky above.

"Put the little healer over there," Kyna ordered, indicating a large nest of pillows to the left of the door.  The entire floor was cluttered with pillows, cushions, and bolsters, although the center was clear, exposing what appeared to be a wide, circular mat.  Ahead of Sam were a dozen naked amazons, Kyna included, and at least a dozen more were still filing into the deck house.

"Do it, Straw-head!" the amazon behind Sam barked.

Sam knelt, eased Janet to the pillows, then sat next to her.

"No, you're with the War-Captain," the amazon said.  Two of her companions pulled Sam to her feet, hustled her across the floor, and shoved her in the general direction of Kyna.

"Hey!" Sam complained.  She nearly tripped, but Kyna caught her, offered a steadying hand, and helped her recline.  "I... thank you," Sam muttered, but her attention was still across the room.  "Please untie my friend," she requested.  "I promise she'll be good."  Several amazons were reclined on the cushions with Janet, in a very friendly manner.  More amazons were settling to the cushions all around the deck house.

An amazon flopped down beside Sam, on the side opposite from Kyna.  "Don't worry, Straw-head," she laughed.  "She'll get a jungle-cat welcome, and I'm sure she'll be very good"—her hand patted Sam's shoulder, then squeezed her right breast—"just like you—Ow!"

Sam had delivered a less than gentle warning punch to the grinning amazon's cheek.

Kyna grabbed Sam's arm and spun her around.  "Easy," she cautioned.  "Your friend will not be harmed," she reassured Sam, then shifted her gaze to her subordinate.

"Nothing but a love tap, War-captain," the amazon said, the grin never leaving her face.

Sam heard a gagged squeal from Janet's direction and snapped her head around.  One of the amazons was holding Janet's bound legs.  Another had her legs scissored around the doctor's waist.  Two more were pawing her breasts and nuzzling her neck, and a fourth had Janet's head in her hands and was licking her face!

"Hey, stop that!" Sam yelled, scrambled to her feet, and lunged towards her friend.  She didn't get far before a hand seized her left ankle and jerked her off balance.  She landed on the mat, hard, but managed to soften the most of the impact with a tuck and roll.  However, before she could scramble to her feet, a body landed on her back!

It was Kyna.  They struggled, rolled, and the War-Captain managed to lock Sam's left arm behind her head in a wrestling hold.  Sam tried to squirm free, but Kyna scissored her legs around her waist.  Her free hand clutched Sam's left breast and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Let me go!" Sam complained, continuing to buck and strain.

"I don't think so," Kyna purred.  Her breasts were pressed against Sam's back.  "I'm under orders to get to know you very well," she continued, then gave Sam's neck a slow lick.  Her subordinates clapped and cheered.

"No!" Sam yelled, then planted her feet and heaved, arching her back.  As their bodies flipped and rolled, Kyna's hold was either broken or released.  Sam had time to focus on Janet, then Kyna seized her from behind, again.  Sam watched as the amazons continued caressing, squeezing, and licking her bound and gagged friend.  Janet was still struggling—well, moving, anyway.  It wasn't entirely clear whether she was still trying to escape, though.

Sam blinked and shook her head.  There was a strange, musky scent in the air—very strong, and very distracting.  And now, rather than simply being outraged and angry, Sam found she was becoming... aroused!

Kyna dragged Sam to the mat, then flipped and manipulated her through a series of elaborate holds.  Sam tried to fight, but apparently Kyna was an expert.  From the watching amazons' appreciative clapping and cheering, she surmised wrestling was a Pardesse martial art.  She was flipped again, and this time Sam found herself on her rump, with Kyna's ankles crossed behind her neck and her legs trapping her arms.  "Let me go!" she screamed.

"I can't do that, Sam," Kyna answered, and they rolled yet again.  When they came to rest, Sam was on her back with Kyna sitting on her chest.  Her head was trapped between Kyna's knees and her lower face pressed against the War-Captain's crotch!

"M'mmf!"  Sam's heart was racing, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate.  Hands were grabbing her wrists and ankles, and pulling her into a spread-eagle.  The other amazons had joined Kyna on the mat.  A mouth was nuzzling Sam's sex!  She tried to focus on Kyna's smiling face—but it was difficult.  Her sex quivered, and a thrill of arousal rippled up her spine.  She screamed again... then all was darkness.

BACK IN THE CITY...

---

Hailey heard the torture chamber door slide open, and a gust of cool air washed across her bound, naked body.  Next came the sound of several pair of bare feet pattering towards her, accompanied by girlish voices.

"Her skin is so pale."

"She is a freak."

"A stupid freak, if she can't follow simple orders."

"Imagine, insulting the PardaUbar herself!"

"She is stupid."

"Quiet!" an older, authoritative voice barked.  "You know what to do."

Hailey was seized by several pair of hands and her ankles were untied.  She was none to gently hauled to her feet, spun around, and dragged a short distance.  She tried to resist, but her handlers—apparently an entire class of young slave-students—controlled her without any real difficulty.  Hailey could tell the "girls" weren't that young, though, probably only slightly younger than herself, or possibly even her own age.

They lifted Hailey onto a hard, horizontal surface, probably wood.  Her legs were splayed and straps tightened around her ankles and knees, enforcing an uncomfortably wide split.  She couldn't tell what sort of table or framework or apparatus was holding her in this awkward, sitting pose, only that she was totally helpless.

Hands fumbled with the drawstring of her hood, but rather than being removed, it was only pulled halfway up, exposing her lower face but leaving her blindfolded.  Her ball-gag was unbuckled and jerked from her mouth—and immediately replaced by another gag.  It was some sort of metal bit, but then a ratcheting series of clicks sounded and the "bit" opened, clicking behind her teeth and forcing her jaws apart.  Straps tightened over the hood and caged her head, anchoring the gag.

"You should recognize this odor," a voice said, in a mocking tone, then hands on Hailey's head, shoulders, and back pushed her forward and onto her stomach—and her nose was pressed into a pubic bush, and her open, drooling mouth against someone's sex!  She did recognize the odor—Charis!  More straps were buckled, and her face was pressed even tighter into her slave-teacher's crotch.

The hands disappeared, but Hailey was unable to withdraw her mouth or face.  She squirmed in her bonds, and Charis' warm, moist body squirmed in return.  Apparently, they were both in the grip of some sort of combination head/thigh harness.

Suddenly, something lashed Hailey's buttocks, probably a whip.  She screamed through her gag, and into Charis's sex.

"Heed my words, slave Hay-lee," the authoritative voice intoned.  "You will use your tongue—the same treacherous tongue with which you insulted our Mistress and betrayed your slave-teacher—to pleasure your slave-teacher, continuously and with enthusiasm, resting only when ordered to do so.  Otherwise..."

"M'mmpfh!!"  The lash had landed again, this time across her back and arms.

"Slave-students," the voice continued.  "Form a line in order of class ranking."

Hailey began probing Charis sex with her tongue, as ordered.  There was a vibration, and the hard surface under her own crotch dropped away, leaving her body supported by her splayed legs and upper body.

The lash returned, but this time with less force.  The stroke was only a reminder.  "I said with enthusiasm!" the older voice barked.  "Don't make me mark you."

Hailey redoubled her efforts, and Charis squirmed in response.  Hailey heard a muffled moan, and surmised Charis was also gagged.

"All right, then," the slave-teacher intoned.  "First student in line, you will use your lips to comfort the First-Pleasure Slave.  Second student, you will pleasure and punish Slave Hay-lee.  Consider this an evaluation of your ability to balance your skills.  I want the little fool kept on the edge, without relief.  Any student not keeping her properly excited will be punished.  Any student making her too excited will be punished.  Any student drawing blood with the whip or any of the other tools will be punished.  Pace yourselves, as this exercise will last until both suns return to the sky.  Relief will occur at each turn of the glass.  First pair—begin!"

A hand cupped Hailey's sex and began a gentle, slow massage.  "Are you sorry you betrayed our Charis, Hay-lee?" a high-pitched voice asked from close between her legs.

"Less talk, more action," the teacher ordered.

Hailey whined through her gag.  A tongue was giving her sex a series of slow, wet licks.  She shuddered in her bonds—whack!—then screamed again as the whip landed on her back.

"You've only just begun, Slave Hay-lee," the teacher sneered.  "No resting that tongue!"