Logging out of the system, he strode along a featureless corridor and almost charged down a man dressed in a white tunic emerging from a room. “Everett, didn’t see you there,” exclaimed Xane, greeting the other with a brisk handshake. “Busy?” He and Everett had once attended the same college, before Xane had earned his rank of inspector and Everett had graduated as a medic.
Everett chuckled. “You should know, you brought in a copter load and now I’ve got to give them all medical scans. One of them is proving quite a handful.” He gestured at a doorway leading into a room adjacent to the one from which he’d emerged and Xane followed him in. Above Everett’s console was a glass division, a two-way mirror that gave the medic a view of a plain room with a massive contraption suspended from the ceiling. Standing in the center and upon the designated circle, the naked Iona scowled at her reflection. She tried to cover her breasts with one hand and her pubic mound with the outstretched fingers of the other one.
“Beautiful specimen, isn’t she?” commented Everett.
“Yes,” murmured Xane, transfixed by the smooth skin of her belly and the curvature of her hips and thighs. “Quite extraordinary.”
“Something of a firebrand, too. Refused to strip until threatened with a whipping. That made her eyes pop out. Amazing eyes. Not the typical coloration for a Minorem.”
“No. I noticed them.” Xane edged closer to the glass.
Everett sat at the console and flicked a switch. “Hands to your sides and keep still.”
Iona didn’t move. Her cheeks flushed crimson and she squeezed her legs tight together.
“See what I mean?” moaned Everett. He barked his order a second time.
Slowly her hands slid away to her sides, revealing a small tuft of black hair on her mons and two peach-colored nipples decorating her firm breasts.
Everett whistled. “I love this job some days.”
Xane said nothing. He should leave, but the sight of Iona’s tantalizing nudity and trembling lower lip had captured him. Underneath her brazen posturing, she was afraid and uncertain. What she needed was somebody to watch over her, guide her, or else Chandros would break her.
The horizontal laser beam of the scanner tracked down her body, starting at her head and following the contours of her body—across her face with its luminous eyes and full lips, her narrow neck, over her plump breasts, then beneath her ribcage. The scanner rotated around her, its probes avoiding contact with her skin. Eventually, after a torturous spell around her midriff and hips, the red beam reached her toes.
“In excellent shape. Ideal candidate. And…” Everett paused, squinting at the data on the screen.
“What?” asked Xane.
“She’s intact. Untouched.”
“A virgin?” Xane pressed his palm to the glass and wished he could reach out and touch the soft flesh of her breasts. The sensation inside his loins told him what he desired. He wanted her and he had to have her. “I have to go.” In his haste, he almost missed Everett’s words.
“She’ll need careful handling. She’ll make trouble.”
Xane ignored the warning and fished out his communicator device from his jacket pocket. He would make the first call to his boss, checking on the status of his overdue bonus, then he would hunt down the allocations coordinator and put in his request. “Late in the day, I know, but she’s perfect for my requirements.”
“Stay,” Everett grinned. “Let me make this worth your time. I’m perfectly entitled to do a more in-depth inspection. You can watch. Have some fun.”
“Fun?” Xane looked up from his communicator and narrowed his eyes. “She’s a virgin.”
“I’m not authorized to tamper with her there. Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt her. She’s had the internal scan, so this is to check her external attributes. It’s all stuff in the manual.” He tapped his finger on the large binder on the console. “I don’t usually bother, most of them aren’t worth the extra effort, but if you’d like to see her… responsiveness, then I can follow the protocols in more detail. It’s all above board.”
On the other side of the screen, Iona fidgeted. She put her hands back over her privates and she tried to avoid looking at her reflection in the mirror. Such a pretty creature shouldn’t be ashamed of her body. Perhaps she might loosen up, and he would find out what lay beneath the scowling face and the tense shoulders. The more he knew about her, the easier it would be to integrate her into his life.
Xane shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Go ahead. I’ve some time to spare.”
Everett clapped his hands together. “She’s not going to like this. At least, she thinks she won’t.” He flicked a switch and the overhead scanner above Iona’s head began to retract into the ceiling.
“You sound confident,” remarked Xane. She’d relaxed a little—her shoulders had dipped slightly—she probably thought it was over. Was he being cruel, forcing her to submit to further examinations? Nothing, including the results of an intimate exam, would stop him taking her home with him. However, once there, he’d have to watch her carefully and not let her lose sight of his authority. No, he decided. If she was going to be challenging, then he was entitled to know her limits and capabilities.
Everett chuckled. “I’ve done plenty of exams to know which ones are special.” He moved to the wall and placed his hands in a recess. Liquid sprayed over his hands and he rotated them, ensuring they were thoroughly covered. As he held up his arms, the liquid dried and produced a layer on his skin, giving his hands a glossy sheen. “Antimicrobial protection. Great stuff, much better than gloves. This way I can feel her skin when I touch, make sure she’s healthy, and we can still not contaminate each other.” He waved at the console. “Make use of the cameras. They zoom in.” He flashed a toothy smile.
Xane stiffened. “Everett, why are you doing this?”
“For you, my friend. I’ve not forgotten how you helped me out at college. I owe you.” He glanced toward the impatient Iona, who looked ready to bolt out the door. “She’s not my type—Minorem—but if you—”
“Let’s get on with this,” Xane jerked his thumb. The less attention he paid to Everett, and the more he focused on the gorgeous woman facing him, the better.
The medic entered the exam room and as he crossed the threshold, Iona went pale.
“We’re not done?” she stuttered.
“Internal is complete, now I need to check you over externally.” Everett moved closer.
Xane, behind the screen, was alone and had no one to interfere with what he did. Flicking through the manual, he saw words—skin blemishes, breast exam, anal stretching, enema—and slammed the manual shut. He’d let Everett decide.
“What do you mean by that?” she snapped.
“Look, this is how it goes. You do as you’re told or else I call Zax back in here. You heard what he’ll do to you if you don’t obey.” Everett waited, giving her a few seconds to assimilate the consequences.
“What do I do?” she spoke through gritted teeth.
“Hands to your sides and keep still.”
Xane had the perfect view of Everett’s hands gliding over her skin. He started at her neck, lifting up her hair to examine her nape. The medic traced his fingers along the outline of her collarbones, down her cleavage using her breastbone as his route. She’d flinched when he first touched her, then she snatched a sharp intake of breath—he cupped her breast in his palm. She shriveled, hunching her shoulders, and took a step back.
“Come here and stand on the spot,” Everett warned.
Xane couldn’t fault his friend’s calm tone of voice. Nothing threatening or harsh; he simply stated his requirements.
Iona frowned before tentatively moving forward. Everett resumed his slow assessment of her breasts. She grimaced when he pinched one of her nipples and drew it out. When he repeated the action on the other one, she mouthed a curse.
Moving down, Everett spread out his fingers and circled her firm belly. “You’ve good skin, pale of course, and surprisingly free of blemishes for a farmer.”
“What do you expect,” she snipped. “That I sunbathe all day?”
Everett ignored the backtalk. “Turn around.”
Xane remained mesmerized by Iona. When she turned away from him, he adjusted the camera at the back of the room so he could keep her face on the monitor. Her cheeks had flushed pink and she had teardrops hovering in her eyes. Now that she believed nobody was looking at her face, she’d lost some of the bravado. However, when Everett captured her buttock with the full span of his hand, she gasped. She seemed to be holding her breath, uncertain whether to exclaim in protest or exhale.
Another squeeze of her other ass cheek, and the reaction this time was obvious. She closed her eyes, screwed them up tight, and chewed on her lower lip. At the same time, tiny shivers rippled across her shoulders and breasts.
“No marks here.” Everett commented. “But let’s take a closer look, shall we?” He turned to the mirror and grinned. “Bend over, Iona.”
“No!” she shrilled, ignoring his rhetorical question.
“One flick of the alarm switch and Zax will be in here.” He leaned on her lower back. “Down and grip your ankles.”
“No, please,” she sniffed.
Xane reached out to hit the intercom. Should he call a halt to this?
“Iona,” said Everett, stroking his hand up and down her back. “You do want a good posting in the city, don’t you? Trust me when I tell you, if you do exactly as I say, things will go much better for you.” He nudged her again.
She lowered her head and slid her hands down her thighs until she reached her shins. Her bottom lifted up high, giving Xane a fine view of her rotund globes, but she’d kept her legs squished together.
Xane swallowed hard. He wanted to see what lay between her cheeks. He retracted his hand from the intercom. His cock had hardened and the blood continued to flow down there, flooding him with a potent arousal. Feeling hot and sweaty, he loosened a shirt button with an abrupt tug. On the other side of the glass partition, she’d bowed her head and her hair formed a curtain around her face, preventing him from seeing her reactions.
“Good. You’re doing good,” Everett reassured softly. He crouched by her, keeping himself to one side so Xane maintained his viewpoint. “No scarification or tattoos. Muscle tone in good shape. Shaved.” He rubbed his hands up and down the back of her thighs. “Real smooth. Now, Iona, spread your legs.”
Her knees came close to buckling. She bent them, as if she wanted to crouch into a small ball. Everett rose and, hooking his hands beneath her hips, hoisted her back up until she straightened her legs. “Don’t want you falling over, do we?”
“I can’t,” she murmured. “Please, can’t you just—”
“You know the answer to that. Legs. Now.”
Inching them sideways, she shuffled her feet apart. Her slow progress was almost too painful to watch, given Xane’s eagerness to see her open up. Her labia came into view—pink lips nestling between her thighs and bottom. He edged closer to the glass, then remembered the camera. He switched the monitor over to show her from behind and zoomed the camera closer, blocking out Everett. Now, it seemed as if he had a private viewing and there was just the two of them.
She whimpered as Everett ran his thumbs along the furrow between her bottom cheeks.
“Wider apart, please. I need to see your anus.”
“Oh, this isn’t right,” she squealed, but her legs moved and her head reappeared between her knees, although the dangling locks of hair kept her face out of Xane’s sight.
Everett snorted. “You’d be surprised at how far I can go before things are wrong.” He pried her cheeks apart and afforded Xane the perfect means to scrutinize her puckered bottom hole.
Xane growled softly under his breath. Seeing her slit, which glistened with a delicate wetness, the creases of her anus, and her generously proportioned ass, he wanted her there and then, and from her apparent subtle arousal, she wasn’t as averse to her humiliating examination as she claimed.
He grabbed his crotch and rubbed his stiff cock. The shaft had nearly fully thickened and it bulged, chafing against the fabric of his pants. The narrowing of his throat echoed the sudden tightness in his balls and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions under control. He shouldn’t feel this way, especially as she was a Minorem.
Everett slipped his finger over the bud and her buttocks clenched in reply. “Responsive. Let’s try that again, shall we?” The medic glanced up at the mirror, straight into Xane’s gaze, as if he knew exactly where Xane stood.
Xane witnessed the way she responded to every caress of Everett’s fingers. First one digit, then two, drifting back up and down over her sensitive skin. Her puckered entrance rippled, then as she wobbled on her feet, the hole flexed and opened slightly.
“Excellent,” Everett remarked. “Quite unusual for a Minorem to have this kind of sensitivity. I think we should test your elasticity.”
“What!” she screeched.
Everett had to wrap his arm around her waist to keep her in place as he continued to probe with his fingers. “Keep still,” he warned. He rimmed her hole with his forefinger before swiftly poking the tip inside.
Iona yelped and kicked her foot back. “Get it out!”
“Shush. Such a fuss. It’s barely in there. See, great elasticity. Nothing wrong with you. In fact, I’d say you could go far in the right hands.”
Xane’s cock jerked and he stifled the urge to climax.
Iona was certainly going to make trouble for him, but perhaps not in the way she thought. He leaned on the desk and breathlessly held himself in check. It was time to consider halting the examination before things went too far.
When Iona boarded the copter that would take her from her home to the city, she looked one last time over her shoulder at the place she’d known all her life with a longing that hurt in her stomach. She would miss her family, her friends, and the daily routine of the corn farm they’d managed since she was a small child.
Inside the copter, she was seated next to Alessa, a weeping redhead who needed a comforting arm to console her. With her fragile frame and delicate features, the eighteen-year-old reminded Iona of Mia.
“Shush, it’ll be okay,” Iona whispered.
The copter lurched and lifted off the platform. Iona peered out of the small window and fought back her own tears as the fields shrank into a patchwork of golden yellow and brown.
Eventually, Alessa calmed down. Some of the others muttered to each other. Kayne, who admitted he was leaving his fiancée behind, stared out of the window and sighed deeply, several times, while the joyous man spoke of the chances of driving one of the trams that he’d read about in a book somewhere. An old book, no doubt, given what little they knew about Chandros.
For decades, supposedly because nobody had kept a record of the early years of the commune, the Chandran had ruled Mesos. They claimed to bring stability by patrolling the waters about the island and expelling any foreigners who attempted to invade from the other isles that formed the archipelago. They also insisted that their way of life, the division of labor between Minorem and the elitist Chandran, was the best solution to maintaining peace and productivity. While the Chandran provided doctors to heal the sick, architects to build factories, and engineers to design new machines, the Minorem produced the necessary food through physical labor. By the coast, they fished the waters, while inland, they herded cattle for meat and reared sheep for wool. A symbiosis, the Chandran declared, happy to perpetuate the status quo. Iona saw it differently. The Chandran were a parasite who took the best of what the Minorem produced, including its youth. She hated them.
While the others in the copter silently acquiesced, Iona gritted her teeth and seethed.
Xane, the tax collector, had spoken of assessments. She faced him with her angry eyes and made it known she suspected other things happened at Chandros. What if it was true? The rumors about the sexual lifestyle of the Chandran? She’d heard her father whisper about it to her mother. He seemed to know more than he let on, but wouldn’t ever speak about it to Mia or Iona. She’d hunted through the archives at the small commune library and unearthed the reports left by those early Conscripti. Years ago, the commune had struggled in its infancy and not produced sufficient food to sell, barely able to feed its own people. The six Conscripti sent one year had been quickly recovered the next year following a bumper crop of fruit. The few words written down by the returnees had described a hedonistic city where marriage didn’t exist, children were brought up in isolation from their parents, and men used women whenever they wished.
Nobody she asked wanted to know about her findings. Hearsay, they’d rebutted, exaggerations. However, for years after that first failure, the commune managers had gone to great lengths to keep the farms profitable.
Beorn had failed them again. A useless manager, he should never have been elected to serve them. Iona crossed her arms and stared down Xane, which proved harder than she thought. The man’s lips twitched, as if he were laughing at her! His tall physique filled the cabin and he reminded Iona of her father’s stature before age had made him stooped. The breadth of Xane’s shoulders stretched out his jacket’s seams. Yet, the man wasn’t exactly thickset.
Shut him out, Iona! He’s just another pigheaded Chandran.
The woman who escorted them into the building rattled off instructions. “A quick meal; you must all be very hungry. Then, a shower. Always refreshing, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “We require you to undergo a medical scan. Quite innocuous, I can assure you.”
The meal amounted to soup and a bread roll, which they ate sitting around a table in a small room. Alessa almost started to cry again.
From there, the woman, who hadn’t left them alone while they ate, marched the group down a string of corridors until they came to a row of cubicles. “In you go. One each. Strip off, shower, and then put on the gown. Stay there until you’re called.”
Isolated from each other, there was no chance to either raise objections or console each other. For several minutes Iona pondered whether to obey the request. Pacing the tiny cubicle, she decided a shower might reinvigorate her tired body. The water bounced off her skin, trickling down her legs. There was shampoo to wash her hair and after she’d rinsed the suds out, she squeezed the water out of her long locks.
The gown barely covered her bottom and she slipped her panties back on, in breach of the woman’s precise instructions. Another wait and she tapped her heels on the floor as she perched on the stool. What kind of examination would the scan entail?
“Iona of the cornfields.”
She closed her eyes briefly before opening the door. She dearly hoped they’d lose the cornfields and use her family name—Meers—but on Chandros it seemed family names didn’t exist, which fed her anxieties about what she’d read in the archive: no marriages, no families.
“In there,” the woman gestured to a doorway.
On the other side, a medic greeted her with a nod. “Last one. Iona. Yes?”
“Answer Doctor Everett.”
“I’m Iona,” she snapped back.
“Take the gown off, please, Iona,” Everett said.
“Fuck off,” she snarled, wrapping her arms about her body.
The woman gasped and dashed out of the door.
“This is a basic exam, Iona. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“Why do you need me to be naked then?”
Dr. Everett raised his eyebrows, “Because it’s a requirement.”
“The scanner can see through this gown, surely?”
“It can see inside you, but I, as a medic, wish to see your body. All of it.”
“The answer remains the same. Fuck off.”
The woman had returned and at her side was a beefy man with a shiny badge on one of his shoulders. “I’ve called the security, doctor,” she said breathlessly. “I won’t stand for you to be addressed in such a fashion. Apologize, young lady, then take off your gown. You’ve nothing to ashamed of. Nudity is not frowned upon here in Chandros.”
“Well, it is where I come from,” Iona retorted. Underneath her fiery exterior, the sight of the burly guard scared her. Why had he been summoned so quickly?
“Look,” soothed Dr. Everett. “The choice is simple, Iona. Take off your gown, or Zax will do it for you.”
Iona glanced from the small woman to the huge guard, then back to the doctor. “And if I don’t cooperate?” She had to know, how far did this posturing go?
Zax cleared his throat and grinned. “I’ll rip your gown off, lay you over that stool, and give your ass a good hiding, that’s what.”
Iona’s heart slammed into her chest, as if the beat had burst her organ into pieces. “Spank me?” she stammered.
“Whip you, more like, if you don’t get moving,” Zax growled.
With the three of them watching, she dragged her hands to the tie at the back of her neck and began to unlace the cord. Tugging the cloth over her head, she flung the gown on the floor. Below her waist, her skimpy panties hugged her bottom.
“You shouldn’t be wearing those,” the woman shrieked.
Iona turned away and dragged them over her knees to her ankles, before tossing them on top of the gown.
“There, happy?” she blazed. Deep down, the humiliation was tremendous and she blinked back the stinging tears. No way was she going to cry.
Dr. Everett escorted her into a room with a contraption that hung above her head. He pointed at a circle painted on the floor. “You stand still in that. Arms to your sides. The probe will circle around you, mapping your body with a laser beam. It’s harmless. Don’t move.”
He left her and Iona had to face her own reflection in the mirror. It had to be a two-way mirror and behind it, who was watching her? A bank of ogling men, laughing at her? She draped her arms about her body and pressed her thighs tight together. Minutes passed, then Dr. Everett boomed at her to move her arms to the sides.
The beam traced her outline, hovering around her navel. If it could see inside, they would discover her secret—no man had touched her there. She’d been saving herself for a true lover and now—what would happened to her? Who would violate her for their pleasure? She couldn’t bear the thought of it.
When the beam shut down, she sighed with relief. The horrendous examination was over. She waited for what seemed ages for permission to leave the room and while enveloped by the uncomfortable silence, conscious of her rapid heartbeats, she wished she could see through the mirror.
When the medic appeared, he held up his shiny hands as if ready to touch her. Horrified, she listened to what he had to say.
“Internal is complete, now I need to check you over externally.”
Touch her! She clenched her fist, ready to punch him. “What do you mean by that?”
Dr. Everett gave her no doubt that she’d have to comply or else it was the guard with the whip and stool. She slackened her fingers and inhaled deeply. Whatever, get on with it.
The examination from then on sent her spiraling into a place of abject humiliation. He pinched and prodded her breasts and nipples, then when she thought he might be finished, she was told to bend over and open up.
The tears didn’t come. She refused to succumb to any sign of weakness. However, what caused her the most shame was her own body’s stupid reaction to his touch. And not just that; he implied it was natural for a bottom hole to flex and stretch when poked with a finger—natural for a Chandran.
It wasn’t for a Minorem. Not where she came from and if anyone from her commune knew she’d been aroused, she’d be too ashamed to face them. Nobody could know she found the intrusion of a digit in her tight hole made her tingle all over and her heart race with excitement. That hadn’t been her; that had been some other woman who’d invaded her body and made it her own.
She’d cursed numerous times under her breath. Hearing him tell her she could go far, she exclaimed, “Fuck you!”
The medic chuckled. “Not me, but somebody else might enjoy the privilege.”
His peculiar remark convinced her somebody was watching the examination. Still bent over, her head upside down, she brushed her hair out of her eyes and peered between her legs. Dr. Everett had kept himself to one side, and with her bottom stuck up high, whoever was on the other side of the glass had the perfect view of her ass.
The medic removed his finger and tapped her anus. “I would suggest a thorough cleansing in here to ensure any viruses or the like are not present. The Minorem immune system isn’t the same as the Chandran. It’s good practice for Conscripti to be cleaned regularly with an enema, in my opinion that is.”
Who was he talking to? This wasn’t a comment directed at her. “You would think that,” she sneered. “Of course you damn well would. I won’t let you!”
“Enemas are routine. I can perform one now, to ensure you leave here in good health.”
Iona’s jaw dropped and she gaped. In the state of shock, she even lost the ability to shout at him. The embarrassment of such a procedure would be too much to bear. She’d lose it, lash out, and probably end up being whipped, but she didn’t care anymore. Gritting her teeth, she readied herself to fight.
A disjointed voice crackled over the intercom. “Enough. I’ve seen enough.” The speaker had distorted the words, but she was sure the voice belonged to a man.
The doctor snorted. “Very well.” He patted her bottom. “You, stand up.”
She rose, keeping her back to the mirror and closed her legs. Whoever the mysterious man was, he wasn’t going to see her unshed tears, nor the flushed skin of her face. At least he’d saved her from further humiliation. That was one merit in his favor.
Everett handed her a preposterous pinafore dress. Brown and ugly, it nearly reached her knees and came close to hanging off her shoulders. A sack might have been more appropriate. He smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”
She didn’t want to know what he meant by that remark. “Panties?” she asked.
“Clothing requirements will be dealt with tomorrow,” he answered evasively.
The previously screeching woman took her to join the other four female Conscripti in a dormitory. “Here is where you’ll sleep tonight. In the morning, you’ll have your assignments. Some of you will remain here and be given accommodation in a permanent dormitory. Quite spacious you’ll find and you’ll make lots of new friends. Those of you selected to serve as personal servants will be given accommodation where you work.”
Iona couldn’t decide which of the two living arrangements she detested the most: sharing sleeping quarters or being isolated and forced to live with a strange person—a male or female? She shivered at the idea of kowtowing to an individual she didn’t respect.
She lay on the narrow bed, while next to her Alessa curled up into a ball, too fatigued by a continuous flood of tears to speak. The room had no other furnishings, highlighting its temporary purpose. Iona hoped the other dormitory would have something more to offer than a bed. Or perhaps worked to exhaustion, they might need nothing more than a bed to collapse onto at night.
The lights went out and she waited for sleep.
This content is linked through SNP’s Newsletter! Don’t miss out on all the free content! It doesn’t stick around long! Add your email below!