
This first part won't contain any action it's just for the setting. enjoy!
Warning: As you could already guess, this story contains (or will contain) male people being tied up, humiliated, being mildly tortured for the sake of being a male. If this upsets you the reader i highly disencourage you from continuing.
Disclaimer: this has nothing to do with me: i don't approve positively or negatively discriminating people on any ground, let alone their gender. I just thought this to be an interesting setting so i went on with it.
Also: Any similarities with real events or people are purely coincidental.
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Commander Lana Silver of the 2nd. Aggression Suppressive Division, stood proudly in front of her mirror. All these years
far from the real action and she was still kickin' it. Her legs were as slim as they could get, but at the same time muscular like every soldier's of the First Femine Federation. She had a belly that would make any belly dancer would envious and a busty chest that was made out of steel from the many tank wreckages her soldiers destroyed with the wrath of a hurricane. Her face was one of a kind: Blue eyes, small elegant nose, her lips almost glowing red because of her lipstick, all of these framed with her brown shoulderlength hair.
As always, she wore her black short armed uniform, with her easily identifiable green berett. Her attire was full of badges
she acquired during her ten year old carrier, which was kinda remarkable as she was conscripted at the age of 15. Her berett held the emblem of the division: A male figurine lying at the feet of a victorious female soldier. She was applying the last touches to her attire: Today she had to look majestic.
Someone knocked on the door and Lana soon heard the voice of her second-in-command: Livia Gladstone.
-Commander the convoy has arrived! We are awaiting further instructions.
-Go back and make sure everything is going as it should! Don't open the cargo until i get there! - Thundered Lana.
-Affirmative Ma'am! - Answered Livia. Then the sound of hurried steps followed.
Livia rushed down the hall towards the cargo-hangar. She didn't want to risk anything going against the orders of Lana:
the last officer who commited a foul was currently wiping off the microbes from the floor of the captives' toalett... with a toothbrush. Livia arrived at the catwalk overlooking the hangar from above. For her greatest relief everything seemed to be in order. The four closed transport trucks were intentionally parked so all of their rear doors faced the catwalk. This was to ensure that the one first things the prisoners see was the the one who will be occupying it: none else than the commander herself. The guards were standing in rows on both sides of the transport trucks ready to guide the newcommers (and their attention) towards the person who will hold their fate in her strong hands, and who should be treated with utter respect and humility: you guessed it, the commander.
Livia went down the stairs leading to the cargo area. The guards standing at the base of the stairs saluted to their
superior.
-Report! - Ordered Livia.
-Every cargo truck is in position. There were no incidents, the escort vehicles are waiting outside. - Responded Michaela the younger of the guard duo.
-No one opened the trucks this far?
-No Ma'am! The trucks were not opened, the cargo is still untouched.
-Great! i don't want anything to... - Started Livia but was soon interrupted by the sound of the catwalk entrence swinging open.
She immedeatly looked towards the catwalk just like everybody else. to see Lana's strict facial expression as she surveyed the situation.
The guards and Livia turned towards her and saluted waiting for her to command her wishes. She looked at her
subordinates for a few seconds, then raised her right hand in the air indicating for the guards. They didn't need more every guard turned, so they were facing the path. The closest ones opened up the doors...