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Pride and Politics	By : HunterOpera Category: +M through R > Metroid Views: 31560 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Samus Aran or Metroid and am making no money from this.

Chapter List
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She could not sleep, friends. Could not rest her head, gather her wits. Any time thought entered her pretty head the shocks would come and drive them out again, leaving her a twitching mess.
They could not be predicted, could not be counted. They stiffened her nipples and shook her breasts, made her thighs twitch and hips roll. The rippling silver liquid outside her cell gave off a soft glow, the ebb and flow of tides so much less than the electric undertow she suffered.
Who can say how long she suffered so? Not Samus Aran, dear friends. She was not even sure when Salis had returned to kiss her forehead and replace the buds in her ears, dull static and quiet whispers permeating what was left of her mind. She strained for the words, hoping for comfort and instead finding the mantras that were coming to define her.
A slave is obedient and refers to its Owners as Masters.
A slave submits to any and all attention its Masters will.
A slave has no will of its own, it an empty vessel for its Masters.
A slave does not say no. A slave submits to whatever is done to it.
Samus Aran is not a person. Samus Aran is a slave.
And then a voice that she had to be told was hers:
“Samus is enjoying having her owner play with her.”
This time, they did not let her cum.
Oh, she wanted it, friends. It consumed her, that idea of release in all her misery. The shocks were a sadistic pain but they teased her as much as the fingers of the visiting warden, a half-remembered presence in the Hunter's delirium, curling up inside her, teasing her, leaving her before the shocks could come once more.
She hung limp, her tears dried on her flesh, a quivering mass of want and pain and nothing else. She was limp in her bonds, the violent blasts that sometimes rocked her the only sign of movement, her ragged breathing the only sign of life. She was bound and helpless, suffering for sins she could not remember.
But she had learned: she would be obedient if she were ever given the chance. She would submit and give all her attention to her owners' wishes. She would choose no action for herself, doing only what was bid of her. She would not say no to anything they asked of her, no matter how degrading.
She was not a person. She was a slave.
And she would enjoy having her owners play with her.
Salis did check on the Hunter from time to time – she liked to think of herself as a responsible slave trainer, friends, and she did not want to leave such a dangerous woman by herself for too long. The training itself was taking longer than she expected, the Hunter's formidable will slithering down to nothing oh, so slowly, but of all the truths Salis had learned over her life this was her favorite: everyone breaks eventually.
Alone, she witnessed the breaking and breaking and breaking of the Hunter, how Samus Aran lost all sense of herself and who she was. She monitored the Hunter's brain waves and took note of her physical actions, the shallow movements of her belly, the weak twitches that were her only response to the shocks that assaulted her body and shattered her mind.
The Hunter made no complaint when her belly was filled with warm water and vacuumed clean. She accepted the order to suck the cock in her mouth for what little sustenance she was given, guzzling the solution that kept her weak and horny and fit, a solution designed to taste like Olsar's seed.
Sometimes, Salis saved her lover's seed and mixed it with her own, substituting that for what the Hunter was greedily gobbling down. The Hunter never complained, and Salis toying with her cunt while she ate trained her to love that taste.
Occasionally, Salis would lift the Hunter's face and gaze into her eyes, they empty of any light or recognition. There was nothing left in there, not anymore.
“It's time for a new game,” Salis said, licking the sweat from Samus' thigh, right between the clips that shocked her and the quivering lips that so wanted an attention that Salis would make sure was received.
A flickering fractured consciousness slithered into Samus' mind. Dimly, she was aware of movement between her legs, aware that it had been some time between the electric assaults she suffered. She tried to focus her eyes, struggled to see what new horror awaited her and caught sight of her owner at her raised feet.
Do whatever you want, Samus tried to say, I'll obey you... just please... please don't hurt me anymore...
Her owner hurt her anyway.
Pain flooded through the Hunter, a sharp ache that came when the clips were removed from the soles of her feet. She lacked the strength to scream or jerk, suffering as pinched flesh flooded with blood. Her head moved a little, her hair swaying, the only action she could take as her owner moved to her palms, her thighs, her breasts.
She wept, pathetic twitching her only action as her owner brushed the hair from her eyes.
“There, there,” Salis said, cupping the Hunter's chin with a gentle hand. “I know you've wanted to cum very badly, so I'm going to give you permission. For this next game, you can cum however many times you want.”
The warden wasn't sure if the Hunter understood, friends, not with the way her eyes remained sightless and her cheeks remained flush, but when the warden's thigh brushed the Hunter's slick core the bound woman shuddered with want.
It was enough, Salis thought.
For the last month of the previous game, Salis had set out a contest of sorts. She was a warden, after all, and her prisoners were some of the worst criminals in the Kanvian Empire. They were half-frozen and sick with radiation, their physical and mental capacities reduced from the mining they were forced to do out in the liquid hell of Ariime, they bodies warped almost beyond recognition.
“Those of you that mine the most and the best chromextin and chlorium this month will be given a reward,” Salis had promised. “The best team will be given a month to stay indoors to help me with a special project.”
The older inmates had not understood, but the newer ones and the lifers did – the lifers being prisoners from even before Salis' time here, criminals sent here from before Olsar had taken power. They had learned to trade favors to stay inside, petty power plays that Salis allowed to continue because it amused her and because of who some of these prisoners were.
It was a group of lifers who did it best this month. They were able to trade favors to get equipment that wasn't entirely rundown, able to go out and dig deep into the chemical veins that the Kanvian Empire demanded. Protected from the cold and the worst radiation, they took the prize and now the five of them stood, waiting.
A massive screen flickered to life, showing them the limp figure of the helpless Hunter.
“What's this, then?” one of them asked.
“A slave in training,” Salis told the warped figures. “She needs to learn how to fuck.”
“This is our reward?” another asked. He studied the hanging figure. “She's cute. Human?”
“Yes,” Salis confirmed. “And untouched by radiation.”
“What's her name?” the first of them asked.
“We're calling her Samus Aran,” Salis grinned. “Like the Hunter.”
The five shuffled in place, looking at one another. Salis had rigged the game so these five would win because each of them had been arrested and sentenced here for their crimes, friends, but all of them had been captured by the Hunter.
And all of them bore a grudge.
“Naming a slave for the Hunter,” the first one said, shaking his head. “Cute.”
“There's just one more thing before we get into it,” Salis said, handing each of them a pill and a glass of water. The five criminals took the pills and the water without question – each of them knew better than to disobey their warden, had seen to those who disputed any one of her whims.
Each of them crumbled to the ground within minutes, clutching their stomachs. It hurt, having the radiation driven from their bodies, the nano-technology in the pills undoing all the pains they had suffered. When they stood again the sick monstrosities had been replaced by a human, a mauk, an elfin, and two fellow nebari, all male.
“Thank you,” the human said, looking at his hand in wonder. “Thank you for this.”
“Don't thank me yet,” Salis grinned, biting her lip, “thank me after you fuck the name that brought you here.”
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Pride and Politics