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Planet Egimari. She knew that she had gone too far this time. She had stabbed one of her three current masters with a small shiatar that she had stolen from one of the soldiers guarding the slave barracks. The master, a gigantic, gray ape-like alien, native to Egimari, had tried to molest her. Chestra had enough of masters trying to violate her; she had been considered no more than a plaything to them. It had been going on like that since she was twelve years old; since that age, she had to fend off advances from various owners, and thankfully none had succeeded in raping her. Actually, her resisting their advances was one of the reasons that she was repeatedly sold over and over again through the intergalactic slave market. Chestra had killed half of her masters (ten total), but she had never succeeded in escaping from them. The only reason that she had not been killed for her actions was because she was a great fighter. Some of her masters had often used her as a mercenary, bounty hunter, or executioner. A few of them used her for sport because they liked to set up fights in their own private arenas and have her as one of their contenders. Chestra had never lost a match in one of these arenas. This time, she had been sold to the Triumvirate Of Egimari, the ruling body of three brother leaders that ruled the tiny, vicious planet that took part in the intergalactic slave market. The Egimari people were all gray, ape-creatures with skin like crumbling stone and hard black eyes that could also shoot lasers. The Egimarians also held an extreme prejudice against almost anyone who was not one of them, especially slaves. Any alien that was unfortunate enough to land on their planet without an invitation would either become a slave or someone’s next victim. The Egimarians also liked to hold blood sports where the slave contenders (often not by their own choice) would fight each other to the death. The Triumvirate would invite a select group of alien leaders to come watch the events. The Egimarians were also part of the Planet Trade, and therefore the Planet Trade’s leader, Lord Frieza, was part of their exclusive group. Egron, the Triumvirate member who tried to violate Chestra, was recovering from his wounds in the Triumvirate’s castle infirmary. Chestra, of course, had been arrested and beaten to a bloody pulp by some of Egron’s soldiers. Chestra did not scream or cry when they had repeatedly whipped her with razor straps, nor did she cry out when the pounded her repetitively with their rock-like fists. Chestra just lay there dispassionately, as if in a trance, while her four limbs were tied to metal poles. She had been beaten and assaulted so many times in her life that she paid it no mind. She was used to it, and she had long ago learned to tolerate her masters’ cruelty, except when they tried to ravish her. She also did not protest when they had shaved her head of her beautiful red and green hair that was her one treasure. It would grow back within a matter of days, and she needed to have it trimmed anyway. Chestra just put herself in a trance and waited for the worst to be over with. Their beatings and assaults had no effect on her because she had the unique ability to turn off all of her nerves like a light switch. When her nerves were turned “off”, she could not feel anything, not even the lightest touch, on her snow-white skin. When the nerves were turned off, she could not feel pain or abuse; she could feel nothing. She just lay there, waiting for them to finish. Finally her tormentors were finished with her, although they were still furious that they could not make her cry or scream. Chestra revived herself from her trance and gave her abusers a saucy grin that infuriated them further. She loved to anger her assailants like that because she knew that they could never make her cry or scream. One of her beaters was about to harm her again, when Gegron, another member of the Triumvirate, entered the torture room. Chestra had just turned her nerves back on, and she nearly screamed under the horrible pain, but she didn’t. “You little witch!” he hissed at her, slapping her face before Chestra could turn off her facial nerves. His slap felt like a metal gauntlet hitting her in her panther-like face, and Chestra cried out. She quickly turned off her facial nerves again. “You will die this time, you little whore!” Gegron roared at her, his evil black eyes piercing right into her jade-green ones. “You have been here for three months, and you know that you belong to us, and that we can do whatever we want with you. When we say, “Jump”, you are supposed to say, “How high?” When we say, “Kiss me”, you are supposed to say, “Where?” Egron is my brother, and he wanted to make you his mistress. Most female slaves on this planet would consider that a step up.” “Well, not me,” Chestra retorted. Her voice was usually as smooth as the best silk, but it would become like burlap when she was angry. “I would consider it a step down! No man of any species is going to touch me or couple with me without my consent! If I ever take a mate, something very unlikely, it will be of my own choosing!” She wisely turned off all of her nerves, anticipating a potential assault. “That’s exactly what your problem is: you think that you can make choices for yourself! Well, no slave here can make choices for him or herself! You are our property, slut, and that is something that no one can seem to make you understand! So you are going to die!” Gegron grinned evilly then. “But don’t worry, my dear, you’ll like this method of death. You are an excellent fighter, so you will die a fighter’s death.” “What do you mean a ‘fighter’s death’?” Chestra asked boldly. “You will be placed in an arena with one of our most ferocious wild beast where he will devour you in no time. You won’t even have a chance to throw a punch! Goodnight, you little tramp! Soldiers, take her back to the slave barracks!” Gegron left the room then, his heavy, stone-like feet pounding the floor and shaking the foundations of the room. Chestra said nothing. Her face was schooled into her characteristic unfeeling mask. She just shrugged her slender, well-shaped, human-like shoulders; Gegron wasn’t the first fool to try to put her to death that way. Ah, well, everyone had to learn sometime. She let the soldiers take her back to the slave barracks and gave them no more grief. |