The Maze
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!” M
aster
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. H
ad it been one year already since the M
aze 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 physic
ally, 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 h
ated 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 h
ad 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, re
alizing that his best opportunity to win was to try to ambush and hide one of the h
arpies
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 p
ain.
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 bew
are, they can connive so it looks like they are working separately.
” K
al shook his head. “As for ‘harm’, it is ill-defined, but it refers to d
rawing
a significant amount of
blood, breaking bones, disfigur
ation and almost anything else that you will w
ant to do to them
as they torment you. E
verything else, superfici
al stuff,
is good to go.”
“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 b
are hands
.”
“S
ave your testosterone for the Maze, son. Trust me, you’ll need it.” There was no fe
ar 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 He
ad 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.
