Kollany Thirty-Five

1Kollany Thirty-Five

by The Technician

Kollany Thirty-Five is an Erotic Novel in Eight Parts.  It is set in the future on a deep space colony and follows the life of Princess Shumara Seven from the time that her plot to assassinate her father, King Humana One, fails to the day of her sentencing and judgement one week later.

During that time she endures a series of punishments that involve forced nudity, humiliation, body transformation, mind-control, forced masturbation, orgasm denial, forced orgasm, spanking, beating, flogging, donkey-girl forced labor, rape, bestiality, electro-torture, golden showers, freezing showers, snow torture, and being forced to eat cold oatmeal (gruel).   Through these many punishments and rewards, Shumara Seven discovers her true sluttish nature and eventually accepts and welcomes her final punishment and status.

Chapter 03 - Judgement Day minus Five

A little after dawn, Shumara woke to the voice of the collar telling her that she had a long day ahead of her.  It instructed her to clean herself and prepare for the day.  After she had showered and dried herself and applied some of her scents and perfumes, the collar told her it was time to go to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As she walked naked down the Great Hallway, men whom she once thought of as friends stared lustfully at her body.  Women who had once attended parties in her home averted their eyes as she passed, but smiled or laughed openly at her shame and debasement as she continued down the hallway.  Through all of this, Shumara stared straight ahead and kept her head high.  She would not give them the pleasure of seeing her break.

As she walked to her table, she could hear conversation stop and then begin again as a low buzz after she had passed.  She knew from the way that people turned away from her as they spoke that they were talking about her, but something about the way that people also looked around the room or at the entrances told her that they were expecting someone else to arrive.  Something else was going to happen this morning, and they knew what it was.  She began to speculate about what it was that might be.  What was going to happen to her and to whomever else people were expecting to come to the Great Hall?

Her mind was brought back to the present by the collars curt instruction, “Eat your gruel.”  “Fuck you,” she said silently to herself before remembering that the collar did not need her voice to know her thoughts.  The collar buzzed slightly and her arm moved so that her hand could pick up the spoon.  No longer under her control, her arm and hand shoveled spoonful after awful spoonful of that dreadful stuff into her mouth.

The collar’s control of her was much more complex than she had realized.  Under its control her arm and hand fed her and her mouth opened to receive the slimy slop, but she had to consciously chew and swallow before the next spoonful was shoved into her mouth.  “Please, I’m sorry,” she thought to the collar, “but I really do hate this stuff.  I’m sorry I said ‘Fuck you.’  I will do what you want if you will just let me not finish this entire bowl... or at least let me eat it a little slower.”

“Slower it is,” replied the collar, “but you had better finish the entire bowl or you will have another just as large to gobble down.”   Her arm relaxed as the collar returned control of her body.  She sighed deeply and again picked up the spoon and slowly finished the bowl of gruel.

A servant girl came and took the empty bowl just as the time bell struck the hour.  The collar again spoke to her, “I am going to again take total control of your body.  This is not as punishment or because you have defied me, but because what you now need to do and say, you could not do and say on your own.”

Shumara’s body again took on the slight stiffness that marked the collar’s control as she got up from the table and walked to the front of the hall.  Stepping up on the speaker’s platform in front of the podium, she addressed the crowd.  “Superiors of me, I beg your indulgence and your attention.  You all saw and heard me on the vid-cast when I confessed that I attempted to poison my father, the king.  At that time I also named Prince Humara Nine as one of my accomplices.  There were others, and today you will be shown who they were and will witness their sentencing and final punishment.”

Shumara stood stiffly in place as Humara walked into the Great Hall from a side entrance.  He, too, was controlled by a collar locked around his neck.  She continued to speak the collar’s words.  “The man formerly known as Prince Humara Nine was weak and stupid.  He believed that I loved him and he agreed to help me with my plan, not knowing that my plan included his death.”  The look on Humara’s face made it evident to everyone that this was the first time that he had realized that even though Shumara had willingly and eagerly given him every form of sex imaginable, she had not loved him and thought of him merely as an expendable tool to be used and thrown away.  “His sentence has been set and his final punishment will be in five days on the same day as mine in the main square of Kollany Thirty-Five Prime.”

Humara walked to the edge of the platform and stood facing the people.  A guard walked in from the same side door from which Humara had come.  He was naked except for the collar around his neck, but his dark, almost leather looking skin clearly marked him as being of the soldier class.  “Mulama Eight betrayed his oath to protect the king in return for several nights of sex with me and the promise of many more nights to come.  He knew I did probably did not love him, but he gladly accepted my body as enticement to treachery.   Despite his weakness, he is a soldier at heart and in his deepest being desires to continue to serve the guards of Kollany Thirty-Five.  The One has read his mind and his heart and has devised a punishment that will be a deterrent to others who may think of betraying the oath and duty of the guards, but at the same time will allow Mulama Eight to continue to serve the guards.”

Mulama Eight walked stiffly forward towards a small table that had been placed in the front of the hall.  On it were several small cups each containing several pills.  He picked up one of the cups and began swallowing the pills and capsules one by one.  When he had completely emptied the cup, a watcher guard stepped forward and removed the collar from his neck.

“Genetic modifiers have been prepared which will accomplish The One’s purposes,” explained Shumara.  “Watch the sentence and punishment of Mulama for the crime of treason and betrayal.  See also the mercy of The One in allowing Mulama to continue to serve the guards as...”  Shumara paused as Mulama writhed and twisted under the effects of the genetic modifiers.  When the transformation was complete, she continued, “a guard companion.”

Mulama now stood before the people as a woman.  She was not a beautiful woman, but she was not overly homely either.  She was what many would describe as “sturdy.”   And sturdy was exactly what she would need to be as a guard companion.  A few of the guards were married, but most were single and lived in the barracks.  Guard companions cleaned the barracks, prepared the food, mended uniforms and other clothing, and most importantly in the eyes of many of the guards, provided sexual services. 

Mulama looked down as his, now her body and wept a woman’s tears.  “Mulama, you are a conscript companion, the lowest of the guard companions, and you are assigned to barracks twenty-seven.” 

That was Mulama’s former barracks.  Her head flew up and her eyes went wide as she screamed, “No!”  Shumara continued, “You will do this willingly or under the control of a collar,” and Mulama lowered her head, continued her weeping and walked slowly over to one of the guards who stood at the side of the hall.  They then left the hall together.

“Mulama Eight agreed to allow Hamara Nine to act before killing him so that he could not name me,” continued Shumara.  “What he did not know is that I had also paid Thomasa Four to kill him.  I did not pay Thomasa with my body, nor speak to him directly, but used written notes and silver so that he could not know for sure whom it was who was buying his sword.”

Another guard, also naked and wearing a collar entered.  He, too, went to the table with the cups and began taking the genetic modifiers.

“Thomasa Four, for some silver coins, you were willing to allow the king to die and were willing to kill a fellow guard.  The One has seen your heart and you have the heart not of a soldier but of a viscous killer.  Your punishment is that you shall become what your heart already says that you are.”

Thomasa, like Mulama before him twisted and writhed as the modifiers changed his body.  But unlike Mulama, he fell to the ground on all fours.  He flesh turned darker and darker.  Black fur began to cover his body.  Two guards stepped forward and replaced the control collar on his neck with a thick leather collar.  Each guard held a strong leash that was attached to the collar.  Two other guards stood close by with long spears.   Thomasa, now a sleek, black panther-like animal roared and hissed as the guards held him taut between them.

“You will be taken to the wilds on the far side of Kollany Thirty-five.   There you may live, breed, kill and be killed like the animal that you are.”

The guards led him into a cage and rolled the cage out of the hall.

Shumara paused and looked out at the assembled people of the ruling class.  “It is not easy to kill a king,” she began.  “As you know, a person of the ruling genetic class is immune to nearly all poisons and diseases.  My plan was to use a genetic modifier to strip the king of his immunity and then a poison to kill him.”

A young woman, beautiful in her nakedness, entered the hall from the same door as had the condemned guards.  She had the pale, almost white skin of the healers.  She looked terrified as she walked to the front of the room and picked up one of the cups filled with medicine.

“Kemala Seven is a nurse.  I came to her asking for a poison to put a close relative out of their misery.  I explained to her that my great-grandmother was dying of old age and was suffering greatly.  The blessing of a perfect body can also be a curse when that perfect body, at long last, begins to wear out.  You all know that it takes a long time for a person of the ruling class to die.  Our perfect bodies do not easily give up.  Kemala in her naive compassion stole poison from the medical stores and gave it to me.”

Kemala stood silently before the crowd.  Everyone was waiting to see into what she would transform, but she remained standing tall, pale and beautiful as the guard removed the collar from around her neck.

“Kemala shall not be transformed.  She is a healer.  The One has read her mind and her heart.  She has great skills and great compassion.  What she lacks is experience and wisdom.  She shall remain a healer, but for the next ten years she shall wear a control collar set to guidance mode.  It will instruct her and keep her from repeating the mistakes of her youth.”

Kemala also bowed her head and wept, but her tears were tears of joy and relief.

“She must however,” continued Shumara, “be punished for her actions.  She is to be publicly whipped and displayed as a deterrent to those who choose to defy the codes of their class.  If she is willing to accept this judgement, she must present herself to the guards to receive forty-nine lashes of the woman’s flogger.  Kemala, do you accept this punishment?”

Kemala, bowed her head slightly, nodding it up and down, and walked slowly and with shaky steps to a frame that had been brought in and placed nearby.  She lifted her hands and two guards bound them to the tops of the frame.  They also bound her feet to the poles at the base of the frame.

“Kemala, you are allowed to scream and beg.  Nothing that you say as you are flogged will be held against you nor will you be punished further for what you say while enduring pain.  Guard, you may begin.”

With that one of the guards stepped up behind Kemala and began swinging his whip.  It was the lighter, woman’s flogger, but he was an expert.  The flogger’s many leather straps traced a pattern of welts and stripes on Kemala’s white flesh beginning just below her neck and continuing all the way down to her ankles.  She screamed on the first strike and continued to scream and yell and curse the guard, the people, and The One throughout her beating.  The One had indeed been wise is forgiving her in advance for what she might say under the kiss of the whip.

The two guards on either side of her both counted the strokes loudly so that all, and especially the guard with the whip could clearly hear the count.  When they yelled out, “Thirty-eight,” he lowered his whip and said, “The One has instructed that you remember forever this last strike of the whip.”  With that he swung the whip upward between her legs so that it slapped against her sex with a resounding crack.  She screamed one final scream and hung limp in her bonds.

The collar instructed the guards through Shumara’s voice, “Take the frame to the dinning room of the healers.  She is to remain there until the evening meal has finished.  Then she is to be taken down and her wounds attended to.”

The guards moved some levers on the frame and it suddenly rolled freely across the floor as they pushed the now unconscious nurse down the hallway to the dinning room of the healers.

A final figure entered the hall from the doorway of the condemned.  She was old and stooped.  As she walked she relied heavily on the assistance of a large stick.  Thankfully, she was not naked. With great difficulty, she approached the table whereon sat the cups with the modifier capsules.  As she picked up the final cup and began taking the pills, it was obvious that she was NOT wearing a collar.

“Mukama One is one of the ‘old chemists’ and has created many DNA modifiers...  both legally and illegally.  She has, until now, however, been forbidden to ever create or use one particular formulation that she has always claimed she could create.  According to her, this modifier, if it works as she claims, can be used only once.  In reward for her loyalty to the king and to Kollany Thirty-Five, The One has given her permission to formulate that modifier and to use it on herself.”

Mukama One began to writhe and twist as the DNA modification of the pills began to take effect.  She also began to tear at her shawls and other clothing.  Soon she was crouched naked before the crowd.  Suddenly she stood up, stretched her arms high above her head and yelled, “Yesssssssssss!”  She then walked in a bouncing dance step forming a small circle while pumping her hands in the air and repeating, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Mukama One had reason to celebrate.  The ancient hag was gone.  Now she was young, and beautiful, and radiating sexual energy like a fog throughout the room.   Her skin color had not changed, but had become slightly lighter as it changed into the clear, unblemished skin of the young.  She was a beautiful, light chocolate color that was not of any genetic class.  It was the skin color of “the old ones from the days before.”  Her hair also did not match any genetic class, but was a deep brown and fell across her shoulders in flowing waves.  Her breasts were large, but firm, with nipples and areolas of deep chocolate brown.  The men watching licked their lips and swallowed nervously.  The women fanned themselves with their hands and stared as she threw her arms into the air and yelled out in a deep, melodious voice, “Strut it if you got it, and I got it!”

She then walked up to face Shumara, motioned at her body with her hands and said, “Honey, I do gooooood work.  I prepared all of the modifiers that were used today.  Mulama is the perfect guard companion fuck slut; Thomasa is the perfect panther;  Hamara will be the perfect... well that’s a surprise for later; and you, my darling..., you will be my masterpiece.  You already gave me your DNA so I have all the sequencing in place and ready.  All I need is final instructions from The One and you will be exactly whatever it is he decrees that you should be.”

Mukama then started bouncing and dancing her way toward the exit, stopping every so often to again shout to the crowd, “I do gooooood work!”

Shumara realized that she was shaking.  The collar must have released her.  She also realized that warm liquid was pouring down her legs.  What Mukama told her so joyfully had literally scared the piss out of her.  Until Mukama had screamed it in her face, it had not really sunk in that her final punishment would be transformation into a lesser person or an animal or worse.  She stood and trembled in shock and fear as the Great Hall began to empty.  The collar spoke in her mind, “Don’t you have an appointment with some rooms and offices?”

“Yeah, I know,” she responded, lowering her shoulders and moving toward the exit.  As she began to walk out of the room she started recited softly to herself in a sing-song voice, “I am Shumara Seven.  I was a princess in line for the throne, but because I went against The One’s rules for our society and for my gene class, I am now nothing.  Please watch my sentencing and final punishment  in five days.”

END CHAPTER THREE OF EIGHT