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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 07 - Judgement Day Minus One
A week had brought great change in Shumara Seven. The collar almost did not have to guide her at all. She eagerly strutted nude from her room, down the great hallway and into the great hall. She smiled and giggled to herself as some of her friends who had taunted and laughed at her at the beginning of the week now turned away from her brazen nakedness. Once, a former friend of hers, Dehata Eight, whom she knew to be extremely prudish about sexual things, stopped and stared at her with a look of total disgust on her face. Perhaps she hoped to shame Shumara for her wanton acceptance of her nakedness, but that did not work. Instead, Shumara paused, spread her feet slightly and then ran her fingers over her sex from deep between her legs to the top of her mons. She then turned her hand palm upward in front of her face and “blew a kiss,” to Dee Eight. Dehata’s eyes opened wide with surprise and her face flushed red as she quickly turned and hurried away. The words of Mukama One from earlier in the week echoed in Shumara’s mind, “Strut it if you got it!”
After breakfast, Shumara began her final tour of the rooms and offices of the palace and government buildings. It was not the collar’s demand, but her own choice that added wording to her little speech. As she stood in the middle of the first room she said, “I am Shumara Seven. I was once 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.” She then continued, “My sentencing and final punishment is tomorrow at noon. That means that if you want me to make right what I have done wrong to you, you must act today.” She then waited silently for several minutes to see if anyone stepped forward.
In one of the rooms on the third floor of the palace area an older woman with the dark golden skin of a royal servant stepped forward. She was wearing a long, wrap-around type of dress that almost looked more like a robe. “I am Lakana Four. Do you know me, Seven,” she asked?”
“No,” replied Shumara.
“I didn’t think that you would remember me. You hardly ever noticed me as I waited upon you. I was once one of your maids in waiting. Among other things, it was my responsibility to bring you a beverage for your afternoon light meal. You were never satisfied with what I brought. There was always something that did not satisfy you. One day you went into more of a rage than normal and told me that everything that I brought you tasted like piss. Then you added that maybe if I knew what piss tasted like, I would know not to bring it to you. In front of all of the other maids, you made me lie down on the floor between your legs while you pissed in my mouth. You made me swallow it and beat me for what spilled on the rug around my face. Now do you remember me?”
Shumara swallowed hard and slowly replied, “Yes, I remember you. What do you want me to do?”
“I think you know,” she replied and then she turned toward the side door of the room and said slightly louder, “Ladies, it is time.”
A group of nearly a dozen women entered the room. Shumara recognized most of them. Until a week ago, they had been her personal servants - her maids in waiting. Normally they would have been wearing full gowns as befit those in the presence of a royal princess, but today they were wearing simple, short, shift-like dresses that ended halfway down their thighs. Lakana undid the sash of her robe and removed it. She, too, was wearing the short white dress.
She pointed at the floor before her feet and Shumara lowered herself to the floor and lay face up on the thick rug. “Open your mouth,” ordered Lakana, and Shumara did.
As Lakana stepped over her, Shumara could clearly see that she wore nothing beneath the simple shift. She stood straddling Shumara’s head and said softly, “You don’t know how long I have been wishing that I could do this,” and she let go with a stream of piss that splattered on Shumara’s face. Most of it went into her mouth and Lakana said sharply, “Remember to swallow.”
As soon as the stream fluttered to a stop, Lakana was replaced by another woman who laughed aloud as she released her golden stream into Shumara’s face and mouth. A third and then a fourth woman stood over her and released their water. Then Lakan said, “I think she has had enough to drink. Perhaps she needs a bath.” The remaining ladies gathered over Shumara’s body standing in a row from her head to her feet. It was as if she were encased in a tunnel of legs. As she looked up at the row of naked slits, she could smell the piss on herself and she could also smell the strong scent of at least one very excited woman - and it was not herself.
“They are getting off doing this to me.” she thought to herself. “I’ll bet they go back to their rooms and rub themselves raw after this, or maybe they will all go back to the same room and...” Her train of thought was interrupted as all eight ladies let loose at the same time, drenching her in a shower of piss.
After the last stream dwindled away, Lakana and the rest of the ladies walked silently out of the room through the side door. Shumara pushed herself to her feet and brushed her sodden hair back from her face. “That was interesting,” she said aloud as she left the room and walked toward the office complex to repeat her little speech and invitation.
At each stop throughout the day, Shumara delivered her speech with the implied invitation for personal punishment. Only one other person responded to her invitation, however. That occurred in the hallway on second floor of the office area after she had finished her tour of all of the offices themselves. Shumara spied a group of women who were mopping the hallway, and she stopped to address them. After she finished speaking they gathered around her and one of them, whose face seemed familiar to Shumara, said, “Do you remember the little game you used to play when you and your friends were bored on a summer’s day?”
Shumara remembered. They had only done it a few times, but it started when she and some of her friends had nothing to do on a very hot summer’s day and were roaming through the office building. They had come upon several cleaning women mopping one of the long hallways - this hallway. The women were stripped down to very little in the heat and humidity and after one of them warned her that the hallway was very slippery, she decided to see just how slippery it actually was. She made them re-mop the entire hallway so that it was very wet and soapy. Then she and her friends took turns seeing how far they could slide the cleaning women down the hallway on their bellies by pushing them with their own mops and letting them slide. When it became obvious that the women’s clothing was slowing them down, Shumara forced them to stip completely. Not only did they slide farther, but wedging the mop in the cleft of their ass cheeks gave a much better push.
“The girls would like to see how well you slide,” said the leader with a wide grin. “Soap it up,” she yelled over her shoulder. Then she turned back to Shumara. “I don’t have to tell you to strip, so just get on your belly on the floor and reach back and grab your ankles.”
Shumara had forgotten about that. One of her girl friends had said that the women were dragging their arms and legs too much, so she had ordered them to pull their legs up by grabbing themselves by the ankles and pulling themselves into a bow.
Shumara assumed the position. She heard a small laugh just before she felt the wet mop push itself into her ass cheeks. A moment later she felt herself gathering speed as she was pushed across the soapy floor. With her legs held tight, most of her weight was on her belly, but her breasts and cunt also slid across the smooth floor. The sensations were not unpleasant. In fact, Shumara liked it, but she did not want the women to think that she was enjoying herself so she kept her face turned toward the floor.
As she reached the other end of the hallway, one of the women turned her around with her mop and jamming it tightly against her ass pushed her back from where she had come. Back and forth she went, sliding on the wet floor, trying not to become excited, but feeling a fire grow between her legs never-the-less. Finally the women were through with her and let her slide to a stop in front of the leader. She pulled herself up to her knees and then sat back down with her legs crossed before her.
“Remember what happened to the losers, former princess?”
Shumara replied meekly, “Yes. The two winners who had slid the farthest were allowed to leave, but the two losers received 25 swats each with their own carpet beaters.”
“That’s right, honey,” replied the leader. “But since there is just you here today, you will have to be the winner and the loser. And since you don’t have a partner to share those swats, I guess you get to take all fifty of them. Back on the floor, princess so we can mop you up a little. The water won’t make any difference for the wire beater, but it will really help my big leather one smack against your ass.
Shurmara lay back down on the hard floor. Two of the cleaning women plunged their mops into their buckets and rubbed them across her back and thighs, thoroughly wetting her. Almost immediately she heard the swish of something and felt the first thwack of the carpet beater on her ass.
“That’s one,” said a voice.
A slightly different sound and a different beater struck her ass from a different direction. “That’s two,” said a different voice.
With no sound preceding it, a third beater slammed into her ass cheeks. This one was not wire, but something solid yet flexible. It sounded like a clap of thunder in the hallway and felt like a wide belt, but a hundred times worse.
“That’s three,” said the voice of the leader and Shumara knew that this must have been her “big leather one.”
The women gathered around Shumara and took turns beating her with the carpet beaters. The count slowly rose toward fifty. After forty-nine, the leader said, “turn her over,” and several sets of hands turned Shumara so that she was face up on the floor. No sooner had she been turned than the leader’s big leather carpet beater came crashing down directly on Shumara’s slit. Her screams almost drowned out the leader’s voice as she said to her crew, “That’s fifty. Time to go home ladies. Princess will mop the water up off the hallway for us. Won’t you Former Princess Shumara Seven?”
Shumara merely nodded her head. One of the women dropped a mop across her and said, “Put this back in the closet at the end of the hallway when you are finished, and make sure that it is properly rinsed and wrung out.”
Shumara lay on the soapy floor for some time. By the time she had finally risen to her feet, the hallway was empty except for a solitary bucket and the mop that lay across her. She picked up the mop, walked over to the bucket, and for the first time ever in her life, she began to mop a floor. She began at the far end and worked her way down to the closet. When she reached the closet she found a low sink just inside into which she dumped the water from the bucket. She rinsed the mop and used the wringer in the bucket to wring it dry. She set the bucket with the others in the closet and hung the mop on the empty hook. Then sitting on the lip of the low sink with her feet high against the doorjamb of open doorway of the closet so that she could see the entire length of the long hallway as she looked out between her legs, she rubbed herself to climax, all the while imagining herself sliding up and down the wet floor of the marble hallway.
END CHAPTER SEVEN OF EIGHT
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