Tuesdays

This is a standalone story, about 23000 words long.

Warning: this contains a scene where the main character contemplates suicide.

Acknowledgements to Ezracarmichael, on this site, who wrote Compliance. This story is loosely based in his world with his permission.

Thanks to my editors thegoofyproofyreader, who made many improvements; any remaining mistakes, of course, are mine.

+++ Tuesday, sometime in March, Emperor's Year 432.

I was one of 30 captives in a hut. I was waiting with the other 19 women and ten men. I had counted them. I was wearing a dirty uniform this being a tunic, combat trousers, and boots without laces. I couldn't tell the ranks of any other captives; all our rank-slides had been taken. I could see most wore Army pattern tunics and four, dark-blue Navy uniforms. I wondered how the Navy guys had been captured. I knew that I had surrendered, cut off, and faced with enemies on every side. They had been excited to catch a woman because women didn't usually fight. I wondered what my treatment was to be.

I felt both shocked and numb at the same time. I did not expect rescue, and escape did not seem possible yet. They were the enemy and they were losing, but that fact didn't help me. A woman in a white coat with a stethoscope had examined me, treated me and injected me a couple of times. She had spoken Eastish. I didn't speak it and few of the enemy spoke Anglish. So I didn't know what jabs she had given me. She had ignored my questions. She might have been a doctor, the stethoscope was a universal sign. I'd watched the treatment of the other captives; the woman had treated all of us in the same way as me and in public too.

I looked around again at each wall, the windows through which I could see another hut across a road, the ceiling, the single door. I looked at the sign on the door again, it was in Eastish lettering which I couldn't read. I counted the furniture again: four tables, sixteen chairs, a fire extinguisher, and a blackboard. We were taking turns on the chairs, sort of, and I was sitting on the floor now with my back against a wall. I was afraid, this was all new to me, but boring at the same time. I could only count the walls so often. I had nothing to do but endure as a soldier. The fire extinguisher was red with white letters on it. I wondered what they said, fire, water, or something else. I counted the other prisoners again. I'd been here for only hours, not even days, and I was already bored.

A NCO walked in, four stripes on a rank-slide on the front of his tunic, looking like every NCO I had ever seen but wearing Eastish uniform; a man in a white coat walked in behind him carrying a big box. I sat up and looked at them, like everyone else.

The NCO said, "Stand up."

I scrambled to my feet. Some of the others moved fast, and some more slowly making a point about being reluctant.

The man with the box set it on a table and opened it to show a few programming sets. I gasped, worried. So did some of the others.

The NCO looked round at all of us in the room, "You become slaves, in park, for our men."

The white-coated man held out a programming set, looked round, took a few steps towards me, and then pointed at me. Why had he picked me first? The set was black with a visor and earpieces, a dangling cable to a nerve-collar. I looked at it with horror: I knew rumours of what one of these could do.

"You wear this. Now." His accent was heavy and he spoke Anglish poorly.

I stood at attention and said loudly as I had been drilled, "Serjant Lydia Jolnes, 30412080. I object to this, I am a prisoner of war."

"You wear this. Now."

+++ Tuesday, later that day, Emperor's Year 432

I was aware. It seemed like the blink of an eye, as if I have just had a nap and jolted awake. I raised my head and saw and felt I was not wearing the programming set now. The hut looked the same. Several others are now laid down wearing programming sets. The white coated man is sitting on a chair reading a book.

That wasn't too bad. I could get through this. I saw people looking at me.

"How do you feel?" One of my companions asked, I didn't know her name.

"Fine. Nothing's changed, nothing to worry about." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, relaxing my shoulders. It's OK, Lydia I thought. I can take a lot of this.

I got up to stretch and took a few steps back and forth. I relaxed and took a comfortable neutral position. I realise I can hear something, like a soft voice in my head. I listen again, I can't quite understand it.

I looked round the hut again and see people staring at me with wide eyes.

I looked down at myself. I'm standing with one hand behind my back, my feet apart a shoulders width. My right hand, the hand I usually use, is between my legs inside my trousers and I'm rubbing up and down my cunt. It feels slick already and unusually pleasant. 'Good Girls masturbate and don't come.' I thought to myself.

I pull my hand away, and look around, embarrassed. I can see my juices on my fingers. No one else meets my eyes as I look at them. The white coated man puts his book down, gets up, and walks over to me.

He says, "You good? Not have hurt in head?"

"No, I feel fine." I'm really embarrassed and really scared. I realised I'm even more turned on because people are looking at me, and that I want to keep rubbing.

"Good. Condition again in two hours. You have drink now." I thought to myself that he looks different now, quite attractive. I'd not noticed him being that tall with a handsome face. I looked around for some water.

+++ Any Tuesday, Emperor's Year 432

I was in in the sex-park, programmed out of my mind, semi-naked, and panting with lust. The programming had just kicked in and the burn, starting at my neck and down to my pussy, went all through me. I cried out and posed, wanting someone, it could be anyone to fuck me. I could hardly speak to invite them at first. If someone had me, I would be calmed. I could wait then for the next customer, perhaps sitting for a while, perhaps dancing gently on the walkway behind me.

Other girls, lucky enough to have been fucked, already posed and twirled on the walkway. They were naked, an easy way to see that they had been fucked, rutted by someone, already. I wanted to be taken by anyone, both by the drive of the lust, and the fact that I knew that one fuck was enough to take the edge off. I could touch myself but that was cruel frustration, feeling so good then forced to stop before the pleasure peaked. I would have to touch myself, show my excitement, if someone showed any interest in me. I wanted someone to take some interest in me and use me.

"I'm Lydee, take me. I'm very enthusiastic and want to take Eastish cock." I managed to call to the nearest man. I had learned the words by rote. I stuttered as I said it, it was hard to think of anything but the desire to be used. The man might have been a soldier, but I didn't care. If I saw Eastish women too – they would also do for me.

If I was just fucked now, and, oh please, another two times the slave-mind would calm down until tomorrow. I could stop and rest and eat. I could think for myself. I must have any one sex act, or I would be unable to sleep. I knew that wasn't really true; it just felt like I couldn't sleep. My captives didn't want to kill me. They just wanted me degraded and miserable. If I got fucked even once the slave-mind would turn down at the end of the day and I could rest and eat. I knew my thoughts were repetitive, but I couldn't help them. Now, I just wanted someone, any person, to touch my pussy or tits or... anywhere else. Please, anyone will do, tell me to do something. I rubbed my pussy, already wet, feeling the pleasure that would go nowhere.

Later that day I was posing and dancing on the platform. I had been fucked and could think again, but was still ready for anyone to point at me and touch me then I would go with them and be used again. I found speaking hard, possible but an effort, in my current state. I could cry out to be fucked if I wanted, and probably would if anyone new came by.

I looked around to see the area, already familiar for too many days. Wooden walls open to the sky, trees outside the walls with bright green leaves emerging and shaking in the breeze, short grass on the ground inside, and a paved stone walkway through the area. I saw the two dancing-platforms each about 20 feet long and 12 inches off the ground; one on each side of the compound. I looked at each end of the rectangular compound: at one end a gate and a small white sentry hut by it; at the other end a larger white building and another gate. This building held the guard's room, the toilets and showers, storage rooms, the laundry, and where we got our food. Canopies kept the sun off the dancers and more canopies were over the twelve couches spread over the ground. I saw the sex swing and the bench where a slave could be put face down and restrained. I had never been restrained, never had to. Four other girls and two men were posing like me. All was quiet for now. No users this afternoon. The other three sex-slaves were resting. One gate was closed, the far one; the two guards had chairs and sat by the building. All the furniture was wooden except for the sex swing which was steel. The washing lines were on metal poles too and, as every day, had towels hanging on them.

I couldn't stop dancing or posing, which made me happy, while waiting for a customer. I was bored most of the time. I felt a curl of arousal in my pussy but this was only frustrating. I couldn't do anything about my arousal. I knew I couldn't climax, it was forbidden, until an Eastishman or woman touched me. In another couple of hours the sex buzz would wear off for the day and I would, with the help of the other sex-slaves, tidy up and start the laundry before walking back to the barracks where we slept. I walked every day as directed by the guards but never thought of escaping or even moving out of line; if I thought of moving out of line something like a slap happened in my head. I could not describe it better than that, and then I found myself feeling controlled and walking in line again. Once I was back in the barracks I could speak, socialise with the others, think about home, wish I wasn't here, and wonder how the war was going. I could discuss the news if we had any rumours from customers of this sex-park.

+++ Tuesday 4th June, New era year 0.

I heard the news like this.

The usual NCO who handled us came into the single barrack room accompanied by an officer. It was still early in the morning, we were awake and eating the daily breakfast porridge, called Kashha – made of buckwheat I thought. I scrambled to my feet. I was already dressed in low-cut green panties and matching bra. They were made of a rubber-like material so they could be washed easily. I washed them every day. I stood at the standard position for fuck-slaves: like attention but with feet well apart, and hands clasped behind my back. The other nine who worked at the sex-park jumped up as well, most wearing similar clothing, except for one or two still naked.

The officer spoke, reading from a paper. He didn't look happy at all and didn't speak loudly. "Attention prisoners. I am to inform you that as of dawn today, 1st June new era Year Zero, the Eastish Empire has surrendered to the Anglish Federation of States. An immediate cessation of hostilities started at 00:01 last night. All prisoners of war, and any other foreign captives, irrespective of status, are to be treated as guests and given adequate shelter, water, and food. All prisoners are requested to stay in place until repatriation-and-reclaim Anglish forces can come to them; you may have to wait up to three days, we do not anticipate any longer for initial contact. The current Eastish forces are required to provide accommodation, without punishment, for any guests. Prisoners are to be considered free and treated as guests. Any mistreatment, by either side, will be punished in accordance with the Anglish military code of conduct..."

We could hardly believe it. I didn't hear the end of the notice; I didn't have to. I saw the other captives start to smile and relax. I felt my own face smile then I was laughing and crying. I grabbed the nearest person and hugged them. We didn't normally hug, it tended to set off the mind-set and sure enough I felt the warmth in my body. I backed off, as did she. The arousal stopped rising. Damn, I was going to be horny early today. Wait! Was I free of this now?

Once the officer had finished the NCO shouted to make himself heard, "Guests, I have fruit for you." He was carrying a bag. He opened it, it was full of bananas! "Do not eat much, you will be sick."

I felt that was sensible advice and took only one. It looked very phallic to me in my aroused state. The banana was delicious, the first fresh fruit I had tasted for months. I savoured the taste and texture. I sat down and relaxed. The NCO and officer left. I didn't care for now. I just had to wait, and I would be going back home. Three days. I thought of my friends, school, my army comrades, and my parents. I could think of them now. I could probably get out of the army fast and get on with my life; I could forget the combat and the slavery. I sniffed and found I was sobbing now. I snuck a look around and saw I wasn't the only one. I was so relieved.

I had an hour or so before the slave-mind kicked in fully and I was a pleading fuck-slave. What was going to happen to me now?

By mid-morning I was truly miserable. I had to be fucked but was still in the hut. This was the wrong place; I was supposed to be outside. Everyone was the same, shivering, sitting, some crying. I had no one to fuck me here, we couldn't do each other. We had copies, photocopied sheets, of the announcement and I'd tried to read it – no mention of sex-slaves in it. It was double sided and five pages long, one column in Anglish, a matching one in Eastish. Nothing about sex-slaves at all. I couldn't look at it again, the slave-mind had kicked in. I felt desperate.

The NCO came in. He looked different now, smaller and sadder. He was an Eastish man and so I stood up and ran over to him, others with me, elbowing each other to get to him. "Fuck me first." I cried above the rising tide of noise.

He looked dismayed. Then he looked as if he remembered his training and shouted loudly "Attention." Loudly enough for us all to pause. I was panting, wanting to get to him, wanting him to fuck me.

"All of you, you listen. You are guests now, we must treat you as guests. Wait, a short while. I will get some men for you. " He paused, thinking. We were all waiting. "And some women. Yes, you all go out to the sex park, usual clothes and take your water as usual. I will get men and women for you. I will be quick. I will be as quick as I can."

I filed out with the others. No one guided us along today but we knew the way by heart. Like any day we were keen to get to the sex park anyway and I was frantic by now, feeling the burn down my back in between my legs. We still automatically walked along in a double column the two hundred metres to the sex-park. I started dancing on the platform as soon as I was at the park, I wanted to move rather than lie on a bench, it gave me something to keep my mind off my empty cunt. I sang as I danced once I had pulled my thoughts together enough to match the words to my dance rhythm: "Fuck me please, I'm Lydee, I'm only eighteen and as keen as can be."

I had to wait another thirty minutes before the NCO came back with some of the soldiers. I counted and eight men were with him. A woman was with them too, but I looked at the men first. I kept dancing hoping to attract them and it worked. One came over and beckoned me down. Weeping with relief, I flung myself down in front of him and reached up to his cock. He looked uneasy but cooperated.

It's like fresh water when you are parched, but better. He was standing up so I knelt down. I eased his cock from his trousers gently, opening the waist and fly and freeing his cock, admiring it and carefully fondling the sensitive tip. I knelt forward to start licking the semi-flacid penis. I needed to be gentle though. I mustn't spoil it for him; but almost at once the worse of the desire to perform, to ask for it, stopped. I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. I relaxed and sucked and nibbled on the tip. He was getting harder. A bit more licking now, round and round with my tongue. I had his attention now. Good! Up and down, sucking. He liked this. I smile at him, it's the programming and I mean it, because I wanted to please him. I wanted to serve him. I make eye contact and hold his gaze. I can pause now, look up at him and smile, licking my lips before bending my head again. I knew to vary the rhythm slow for a while, then fast for a shorter time, then smiled at him again. I motion to my breasts, tits, with my hands, still sucking. He nods and I take my tits out of the bra cups before reaching behind to unhook the strap. I shrugged it forward then put my hands underneath. Would you like a tit job? I try to question him with my eyes. Yes, I think he would. I took the cock and work it between my tits, spitting on my fingers to transfer moisture. I've got breasts big enough that this works if I held them together. I know this is more for show, not many men will want to finish like this. He is liking this, I am liking this. I can talk now that I am relaxed and pleased with myself, "Mouth or cunt?" He decided cunt. Good. Hands and knees then, that's always the starting position unless I'm told otherwise, just get the panties off. I turn round, showed him my ass and wiggle it. Then I slipped the panties down slowly. I showed him what he is going to have. His hands were on my hips, my knees on the grass. I felt him moving his cock on my ass, then underneath. Good, get it in.

I could cry out and did so, "Ahh, Yes, that's what I need. Push your cock into me."

Yes, Yes. He started thrusting, holding my shoulders now, his head next to mine. Every stroke was strong, the pleasure already rising. This was what I was made for. I keep going, feeling the smooth thrusts in and out of my pussy. My mind was already shaky and it blanks as I started to come, the tension building up from my centre and outwards. I came.

I'm calmer now. The first one is always the worst and best to get through, most pleasure but harder on my mind. I was calm and knew I could think for some minutes now. I still needed to have sex. I still needed it, but could think now. I'm Lydia. Called Lydee here, it's easier to pronounce. He still was thrusting, I started to rotate my hips more, to keep him interested, to make him come too. This is good, this is what I was made for. I'm just a fuck-slave for them, it made me happy. I could try to fight this, but it's too hard now and the voice in me wants this and praises me as my pleasure starts to increase again. He kept moving and I'm enjoying the burn in my mind and the tickling in my cunt. I shifted myself to balance on one hand, and moved my free hand to between my legs and fingered myself at the top right over my sensitive clitoris. He started speeding up. Good, very good. I'm tensing now and reaching for the release. I slow down a bit, circling the top of my slit, I don't need much now to come. The second orgasm rises, not as strong, I'm tensed my core round the stiff cock. He groaned, I joined him crying out. I enjoyed this part, it's so good to feel my insides contracting and then he tensed up and I feel his grasp tighten and he came into me.

That's one man. I sank down, panting hard, and took a few breaths. I turned once I have caught my breath and am ready to talk again. I knelt in front of him, he looked dazed, with my legs apart and hands holding my tits. "Thank you Sir, I needed that. I enjoyed your cock."