“Stop...”

“Kyra! Stop teasing the little slut,” the captain admonished. “Start setting up camp and preparing our dinner.” He instructed as he took a crate loaded with pots and pans up to a clearing near she top of the beach.

Kyra made a disappointed mew as her finger teased deftly into Rene’s sex. Rene gasped at the too pleasant intrusion then was left alone again. She could feel her warm juices beading on her lips. Arousal and frustration clouded her thoughts as she stood bound at her **** post watching the naked Kyra work. The captain and his crew generally ignored her. She was beautiful but naked slaves were commonplace on Acteon. One of the crew members regarded her with an interest that filled her mind with new lustful notions of servicing him but the captain slapped him on the back of the head. “She’s for our lord Gord. You despoil that pretty flower and you’ll regret it...” he warned. The man blanched and nodded, busting himself with preparing the fire.

Kyra started to prepare two pots of food. One small and one large. She held up a strange fruit to show arene and winked knowingly then started to prepare it for the small pot. “Ah. **** bane...” Luke observed. “I hear it’s quite addictive.”

Kyra nodded dreamily. “Hmmm. I love it.” She agreed.

As her arousal faded Rene found herself able to think more clearly. **** bane was the **** that kept female slaves in a constant state of pliantly submissive arousal. Apparently it had no effect on male physiology. The **** made the taker a docile and hedonistic slut. It even altered their physical perception so that they were more sexually sensitive, particularly in their erogenous zones, and made it so that mild pain became quite pleasurable. Clearly she had grossly underestimated the raw sexual need of her new body but if she took the **** she would be utterly lost to sexual need. And as Luke said it was addictive. Terribly so. The withdrawal and craving was meant to be excruciating. If it was known that a free woman took the **** she would be enslaved immediately- and such a fate was not uncommon.

The **** seemed too perfect to be anything other than a genetically engineered plant. It was quite prevalent, growing as a seed. It served as a staple for a great deal of society. Rene tried to imagine the star rating firstly settlers who had come her a thousand years ago. Civilised. Educated. Masters of the atom and space and time. They’d come here, scuttled their ships into the sun, set up a primitive, predominantly illiterate society with clearly defined sexual roles, forcibly regressing themselves to a fuedal state where slavery was accepted. It defied reason. But history was littered with these stories.

What amazed Rene was how easily a civilised person from the Confederation could succumb to this world’s views. She was already halfway a ****. Luke was acting differently. As she stood there she could not help but imagine Luke taking her. The thoughts were distractingly pleasant and she was broken from her reverie by Luke’s approach. “I’m going to untie you Rene. Don’t try to run away...” he instructed.

Rene nodded. The words were for the others. Where could she run? She needed to stay with Luke. She rubbed her wrists gingerly as she walked into to join the others by the fire. Kyra pressed a ceramic bowl into her hands. “Enjoy,” Kyra said as she took a handful of the food from Rene’s bowl. She noticed that the men had spoons and cups and individual bowls. She and Kyra were to use their hands and share a bowl. And their food had **** bane. Her stomach rumbles as she eyed to food with distaste.

“Eat it,” Luke growled. “You need your strength.”

“But...” Rene felt afraid as she reluctantly scooped a handful and tasted it. It was sweet and it made her mouth tingle. It tasted good though and she tentatively asked took another handful. It tasted really good. She felt it warming her belly. Two more handfuls and she was full. Dear god what had she done?