nb.ii

…He spent only fifteen Dual-Sun cycles soaking in
warm Firrgon Amniotic fluid that second time around, and he had hoped for the
briefest of Blue Sunlight hours that his unfinished healing meant that he would
be given the Tryefuriddion Mind-Wipe that had helped so many in the Slave Hive
to restful sleep after traumatic and mutilating fuck sessions, but his hope of
respite wasn’t allowed to linger. He was removed from the baths, was toweled, had
his genitals roughly locked in a Veersteel cage, had each of his three anuses
plugged with Quanelliglass plugs, had his skin moisturized with the rich, aromatic
fat of some avian species discovered, altered, patented and hidden by the
Petrolokush Pharma Concern, and was ushered into the tubular, flexible,
moisture laden hallway outside the Amniotic bath chamber.

A palanquin was
waiting for him, mounted on and hauled by eight sets of Cargavian Legs – glassed
in brain matter perched atop the and hypercable linked into the glistening,
prototected meat of the legs – and on its side was the end of his hope. On the
side of the palanquin was the Coat of Domination of Minister Sodomiticum. His
tertiary anus clamped hard against the Quanelliglass plug; he began to whimper
with fear and pride; Minister Sodomiticum wanted him! Minister Sodomiticum
wanted him?! There would be nothing, he knew, to mitigate his pain in the
Vexation Semen Baths until he was a husk. Nothing but suffering and honour at the
genitals and teeth and protrusions of Minister Sodomiticum.