The Maze, page 1
The Maze
By
Breanna Hayse
©2012 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse
Copyright © 2012 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Hayse, Breanna
The Maze
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-746-5
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images provided by Bigstock.com
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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Chapter One
“Traisk! Get your lazy ass up! You have caught the Elders’ eyes!” Master Kal announced, banging on the pen’s bars. Traisk opened his eyes, his beaten body screaming for rest. He had just won his final Ketar— the fight for life—this time against a 10’ tall ape-like creature with claws of iron and venom in its saliva. Traisk had won the ‘honor’ of engaging in that particular battle by beating three other Strong Men, bred for strength and intelligence just like himself, in the ring. He knew of their fates; they would become slaves in the Thetis mines below the surface of Elien.
“Lazy? You worthless eunuch, who the hell are you calling lazy?” Traisk growled, sitting up on his cot.
Kal grinned sardonically, grabbing his crotch, “You wish I was a eunuch, boy. Don’t you want to hear what the Elders wish of you?”
“Not really. Whatever it is, I have no choice.”
“They want you for the Maze! Isn’t that great?”
Traisk narrowed his dark green eyes, glaring at his master. He stood up, his massive 7-foot tall body nearly filling the small cell. Had it been one year already since the Maze was last played?
“Does that mean I get my freedom?”
“Don’t ask foolish questions to which you already know the answer. You know that no one is truly free in this society, least of all a Strong Man like yourself. If you win, though, you will have a beautiful woman to serve your every need and desire, and even to bear your children. You might even be granted other women to satisfy your appetites, if the Elders decide your victory was glorious enough.”
Kal sat on the bench outside the cell, crossing his large, burly arms. He was well past his prime, but time had diminished neither his strength nor his sardonic wit.
“And how am I expected to win, exactly?” Traisk asked bitterly. “You know the Strong Men are not told the secrets of the Maze. We are only taught how to survive in every possible situation. I’ve never been permitted to observe the event. I don’t even know the rules of this game.”
“Yes, things are kept well hidden from you boys. Makes it more fun for the audience. Don’t worry, though, you’ll be told the rules before the game starts. And just think, you’ll finally get to see a real Trained One! Oh, but no touching other than with your hands. Your little friend there will be caged,” Kal said with an evil grin.
“I’ll show you little,” Traisk growled.
The Trained Ones were female versions of the Strong Men. They were chosen and conditioned to be prime breeding material, and the rumors had it that they were stunningly beautiful, clever and vicious animals that could kill a man with a glare. They did not compete publically except in the Maze, and no Strong Man ever saw one until he was chosen to enter the Maze.
“You’ve never been caged before. The damn thing sends a nasty electric shock to your balls if the sensors pick up any, uh, activity. The conquered female has to speak the code to unlock it.”
“Sounds like fun.” Traisk frowned. “And what’s in it for me if I win? Besides owning the rights to the female.”
“Oh, you’ll hear about it all when it’s time to go in. I’ll tell you this much. If you win, because you have advanced yourself to Prestige already, the elders can decide to invite you to participate in the Council. High Classes often act as council underlings and the rest are usually granted positions as trainers for our Strong Men.”
“So, the smarter and better educated we are, the better pawns we become for society.” Traisk sounded as bitter as he felt.
Only Strong Men and Trained Ones were permitted to reproduce, and only the greatest among them were selected to compete in the Maze for the honor of owning a permanent mate. The others were randomly assigned partners twice a year for the sole purpose of generating offspring. Once the offspring were weaned, they were sent to training camps to prepare them to assume their parents’ role as future Strong Men and Trained Ones. Even with the strict limitations on the bearing of children, the population was extensive and was close to exhausting Elien’s resources after years of overuse.
Traisk had worked hard to be named a Prestige, the highest academic achievement offered on Elien, and had earned his tattooed ‘wings’ several years ago. He had hoped, with his academic honors and his history of wins and popularity on the fighting circuit, that he would be selected to simply breed, and then be released from his pack to be a translator for research. This was Elien’s way. Only the strong survived and he was very strong, both physically and mentally.
“I was a High-Class and was awarded this position. You never know,” Kal shrugged, spitting on the floor.
“YOU went to the maze?” Traisk was genuinely surprised.
“Twenty-two years past. My brood mare died while birthing.”
“And your child? Do you know anything about it?”
“You know that all offspring are taken to be raised for the public good. Have you ever seen one? No, they are taken to a place to be tested and their paths decided. Don’t you remember your training camp?”
Traisk nodded silently. His first memory was standing in the center of a field and being handed a stick.
“This is how you survive, boy,” the Master had said to the four year old. “If you drop it, you die.”
Thirty years of nonstop physical and mental exercise, a brutal training regimen and countless beatings left the Strong Men hard, callused, and usually heartless men whose only goals were to survive and, hopefully, to breed. Traisk was at his peak physically, mentally and sexually, and the elders had noticed.
Traisk had known women; they were brought frequently into camp to provide relief and ‘sensory’ training to the young Strong Men. Few were beautiful or particularly intelligent, and they were considered disposable commodities. It was a cruel and calculating society, where the influential and powerful ruled and women were viewed as nothing more than property to serve their various needs.
Traisk hated it. He hated everyone who had succumbed to society’s rules. As a Strong Man, he was nothing but this culture’s slave and could do little to change things… unless he could win in the Maze and gain enough fame. He had trained his body and his mind for something more than a life as a slave and a breeder. This was his only chance.
He focused his mind on the task, on what he would need to do to win.
“It shouldn’t be too hard to make a woman talk and give up the code.” Traisk grunted, realizing that his best opportunity to win was to try to ambush and hide one of the harpies without the others knowing.
Kal lifted his tunic, showing a large, ragged scar. “Mine found a stone and carved a knife after I took her cinquedea. She then decided to try to skin me alive. Beware, my friend, they are cunning and very creative little beasts. Don’t let them deceive you with either their innocence or their pain. You cannot harm them or you will immediately be disqualified.”
“Great. Can they work together to slice us into bite-sized pieces? And define harm…”
“No, the rules prevent them from directly working together, but beware, they can connive so i
“When does this wonderful event take place?” Traisk asked sarcastically.
“In one month. Aren’t you excited?”
“Kal, I just need to say this one thing,” the huge man said as he grabbed the bars of his pen and glared at his captor. “You better pray that I don’t win, because one of the very first things I will do after I’m out of the Maze is to kill you with my bare hands.”
“Save your testosterone for the Maze, son. Trust me, you’ll need it.” There was no fear in Kal’s return gaze. He knew what awaited the boy whom he had raised into manhood and he had faith that Traisk would succeed.
* * *
Twelve women, ages 18 to 21, stood in line. They were completely naked and covered with dirt, with their hair matted and carrying multiple bruises on their bodies. Their angry glares were directed at the Head Trainer as he paced before them. The old man laughed, swinging his crop.
“Did you all have a nice little picnic today? Aren’t you all so happy that you were allowed to spend the day in the sunshine and play in the dirt?” he asked snidely.
There was no answer… but then, answers were not permitted. The women had been pulled from their cots before both suns had peaked and sent on a nearly impossible run through the training grounds. Two of their companions had dropped, worn down by the exertion and the caustic air, and the remaining stood before the trainers, wondering about their fate.
Three of them were to be selected for the Maze. They had been carefully culled over many years, weeding out the less than perfect. Those who had been culled were chemically altered—sterilized to prevent breeding—and then the more intelligent of those were put up for auction and purchased by influential Elien males. The rest were sent to training camps to be used as desired. None among them had obtained her freedom, nor did any of this litter—as a training group was called—know a woman who had ever achieved that prize.
“I have selected three of you to compete in the Maze,” the old man announced, crossing his still muscular arms across a wide, solid chest, “Keeria, Lina and Suri, step forward.”
The three women glanced at each other nervously as they obeyed. The Head Trainer touched each with his crop as he walked around them, studying their work-hardened bodies and the soft curves of their blossoming womanhood. They were very young for the Maze—an honor usually reserved for the more seasoned women two or three years their senior. Each girl had turned 18 over the past year and had only been subjected to a few months of the most hard-core training needed to survive the game. Regardless, all three were well known as being rebellious, defiant, manipulative, and venomous when crossed… the perfect set of traits for Trained Ones in the Maze.
“Lovely. Too bad the Elders took this from me,” he said as he pointed to his crotch, “otherwise I would show you what you have to look forward to.”
Keeria was the only one who did not break her glare, looking up into his cruel, cold eyes.
“Good thing they did it first, otherwise I would be doing it for them,” she hissed, readying for the slap. It never came.
“Always trying to provoke me, aren’t you, little one? You have one month to prepare for the Maze. During this time, you will be allowed to heal from your bruises. While the Trainers will not be permitted to beat you, we do have other ways to punish bad behavior. Take them to their cells and clean them up, then bring this one to my quarters. Do not harm them,” Head Trainer Denkar ordered the guards.
Keeria snarled as three sets of hands dragged the three women to the showers and hosed them down with icy water. Keeria crouched on the floor, tucking her chin to prevent the hard water from hitting her face. She was raised to her feet and her wrists snapped into a pair of restraints hanging from the ceiling. Her toes were raised off the floor and her shoulders started to ache.
Keeria’s heart pounded; this had not occurred before. The trainers never used restraints or penetration! They were forbidden, by law, to intentionally disable a Trained One, although they tended to disregard this edict when they forced the girls to breathe the wet, acidic air of the dying planet on long runs.
She watched as her two companions were led outside, still naked. Soon she was left hanging, exposed and vulnerable, before one handler. Like all Trainers, he had once competed in the Maze. His rancor toward women shone in his eyes; it was a woman who had cost him his manhood. He looked straight into her smoky blue orbs, smirking.
“Not so mouthy when you’re dangling there like a slab of meat, are you Keeria?” he asked, walking around her wet, naked form, his hand grazing her skin.
“You heard the Head Trainer! You cannot harm me!”
“Getting scared, Keeria? That’s not like you. You’ve been very sheltered here, and you know nothing of what is in store for you, do you? In the Maze I had a mare hanging like this for hours after I captured her. Her arm muscles were so worn out, I thought she couldn’t take a knife to me. Was I wrong! She cut me before the elders did,” the man snarled, starting to lather soap over her bare body. He harshly scrubbed every inch of her, including her woman’s folds and the soft skin nestled between her firm bottom cheeks, and then hosed her off with the cold water. As she hung there dripping, his hands cupped her breasts and he pinched her nipples roughly, smiling at her wince.
She closed her eyes, escaping into that part of her mind that could block pain and fear. She had achieved the ability to partition herself over the years, allowing her to tolerate more hardship that she thought possible. As children, they were subjected to countless hours of mental and physical exercises and grueling tasks designed to sharpen their minds and skills. Punishment was dealt out swiftly with a cane and the girls fought hard to avoid it, except Keeria. Her inability to control her tongue left her in constant contact with the hateful cane that was usually applied to the backs of her thighs. Rarely a week would pass when she wasn't summoned by the Head Trainer. The boarding school life ended when they turned 18, and then they were sent to training camps and exposed to the most serious, and painful, of training exercises. Her ability to partition had made her a favorite target of the other trainers’ sadistic experiments with various implements used for punishment, as well as the Head Trainer’s crop and short whip.
“When was the last time you cried, Keeria? Hmmm?”
She made no sound as his fingers touched and tweaked her hardened nipples. Unable to achieve any satisfying reaction, he quickly grew bored. “I wish I had time to play with you, but duty calls,” he said, releasing her and tossing her a towel. “Dry off and get dressed. On second thought, let’s keep you naked. Head Trainer likes you that way. He thinks you’re more submissive.”
Keeria held her chin up as he shoved her towards the lead trainer’s personal quarters. She had never been there before and could only imagine what type of nasty games he would think of to punish her for her rudeness. She was somewhat relieved, knowing he was not permitted to mark her, but she was certain he’d find some other way to humiliate and degrade her.
“Keeria, my beauty… Enter. You are dismissed,” the Head Trainer said to her escort as she dropped her head to the floor before him. Nodding, her handler silently left after eyeing her perfect round bottom. She was ordered to attention and quickly stood, fully exposed and in presentation position before the eunuch. His smile never touched his eyes as he scanned her well-toned but feminine body.
“It’s time you learned some lessons, my dear. We’ve protected you from the ugly world and you are about to see what you’ve missed. It wouldn’t be right of me to not enlighten you, now, would it?”
Keeria remained silent, staring into space. If the world really was uglier than what she had seen so far, she wasn’t looking forward to seeing more of it. The man shook his head, standing and picking up his crop.
