Borealis District, Aurora Sector, Vistora, 9:06 AM
Wake up. Take a shower. Brew a quick coffee, then snatch a breakfast sandwich from the fridge. Burst from the door, eyes still bleary and coat half-on while desperately trying not to trip over feet on the way to the elevator. Fastwalk to catch the bus, or groan at having to summon and pay for an autonomous cab after having missed it. Grumble about not having any friends willing to carpool, or having any friends that own a car at all. Rush through gigantic building foyer while deftly dodging stationary crowds of chatting employees, bumble through security for the umpteenth time, then cram into an elevator with eleven other people, spending the lengthy trip upwards awkwardly trying to avoid conversation with everybody else, despite them all doing the same. Crash into office flustered, breathless, and hair falling loose. Rapidly regain composure, organize desk, straighten chairs, and wait for the clients to arrive, whether physically or via holocon. After that, spend the next eight hours continuously reiterating why attempting to rent a space on the 150th floor of Zero Spire would be a truly terrible business maneuver. Such was the life of Robyn Wynter, newly promoted regional coordinator for small business financing, sitting under the umbrella of Terra Firma Financial. Hectic, fast-paced, and exciting; as much as it wore Robyn down to the bone every day, she couldn’t deny that she loved the action.
Today was different, however. Today, she would be meeting with her large corporation counterpart, as well as several business owners and entrepreneurs, to discuss the purchase of several smaller businesses by Atlantic Ridge Shipping to consolidate their property. As Robyn stepped from tremendous entrance hall of Venture Peak, the aptly-named massive pyramidal skyscraper that served as TFF’s headquarters, she breathed in the still-cool morning air, relished the wash of summer sunlight upon her creamy skin, and set off into the bustling crowds of Vistora with the scent of adventure on her nose.
The meeting location was but a few blocks away, and the forenoon weather was so absolutely gorgeous that Robyn couldn’t resist but choose to stroll her way there. She never liked those horribly tacky black luxury sedans her company always used to ferry its executives back and forth anyways. On a day like today, sheltering behind tinted windows and simpering chauffer AIs was the last thing she wanted to do. Towards that end, she had stowed her towering heels in her handbag and donned a pair of stylish, practical boots for the trek over to Arctica Plaza. Each of the ten Vistoran sectors had a certain aesthetic and sense of beauty to them, at least in the words of the more poetically sympathetic. To most, however, the glorious, cosmopolitan sweeps and spires of Aurora made it the prime competitor for Vistora’s most picturesque subdivision. Robyn took every moment along her leisurely stroll to appreciate the vast, unusually sparse swaths of elevated walkway weaving to and fro throughout the towering buildings of the formerly-named North Aurora, basking in the intermittent sunlight and shade as she walked in and out of the skyscrapers’ umbras. After passing over a pretty little park-plaza crowned with a photogenic fountain, Robyn had already determined where she planned to eat her lunch during the meeting’s interim. Idly, she trotted further towards Arctica Plaza, its glimmering lights still vivid and flashing despite the time of day.
The plaza square now in sight, Robyn could spot the seething crowds flowing from restaurant to shop and back, hordes of people cresting and swelling like ocean waves. She groaned at the thought of shouldering her way through the swarming masses, first lingering around the sweeping entrance to try and spot an opening she could slip through, then giving up with a shrug and heading around the side of the building cluster to try and find an alternate entrance. There was some sort of performance or exhibition going on, and she wasn’t about to try and weave through a crowd so evidently purposeful as that. Circling around the block of ornate, artistic skyscrapers ringing the vast plaza, Robyn spotted a convenient corridor alley running between two huge spires. She was surprised; despite being a wide, dedicated foot traffic thoroughfare, it was completely empty. After turning a corner, she spotted why; two large security androids stood sentry at the junction between alley and plaza. Wincing, she gingerly spun on her heel and began to mince away, hoping she hadn’t stumbled into an off-limits area. Odd, she mused, those looked more like psychiatric bots than security droids. Weird. As she contemplated this oddity, she rounded the corner once more and halted, swearing under her breath.
At the end of the alley, a hefty white van had parked itself between Robyn and the exit. Having deployed its off-Grid wheels, it squatted with its rear facing her, fourfold doors menacingly staring her in the face. Amore Inc. was clearly emblazoned across the side, instantly clueing the young woman in to the fact that she was in deep, deep trouble. Robyn had heard the tales, seen the stories, read the rumors of the massive megacorp’s frequent and illicit exploits, realizing that she was just about caught in the middle of one, even perhaps, skies forbid, as its centerfold. As the portal to the bulky vehicle burst open, and six figures clad in snowy white armored suits and menacing mirrored helmets sprang from its depths, time turned to treacle. Robyn’s bag hadn’t hit the ground by the time she had started to run. Turning tail to the hit squad of mercenary commandos, Robyn sprinted in the opposite direction, desperate to reach the safety of the crowds that now seemed so many endless kilometers away.
Mere moments from rounding the first corner, Robyn threw all of her energy into a forward tilt… until something dense and incredibly sticky impacted her foot, fastening her to the ground and nearly sending her toppling. Stunned, Robyn glanced down to find an amorphous mass of cream-colored translucent goop thickly coating her ankles, firmly anchoring her down. She had only just wrapped the fingers of her right hand around her calf in attempt to wrench her foot loose when… whoomf! A second shot careened into her hand, permeating every crack and surface with its vile stickiness and gluing it fast to her leg. Despair, cold and heavy as sleet, was beginning to set in as the six-strong squad of assailants had fanned out and begun to slowly approach. She turned her head towards the team of faceless marauders, hoping desperately to steal a glance of some vital weakness she could exploit to get away… until one of them, third from the left, snapped the barrel of its curiously-shaped firearms towards her open jaw and… whoomf! A globule of the mercilessly adhesive ooze rocketed into her maw, filling her mouth with its revolting putty-like consistency and plastering her lips together. Moments later, her hand, flying towards her face in a split-second reactive attempt to protect it from the pliant projectile, slapped onto her goo-covered lips and stuck. Muffled howls wormed their way free from the paste’s obstruction, emerging only as nigh-inaudible mewls that did little to summon a semblance of help for the accosted young woman.
The six figures formed a close ring around Robyn, brandishing a frightening variety of exotic weaponry at her and making it abundantly clear that, should she attempt anything undue, a fate unknown and thoroughly undesirable awaited her. One of the weapons she recognized was a Tesla Drive; though branded as “less-than-lethal”, her older brother Rono’s own experience had taught her that, with such weapons, tremendous pain was almost always a corollary. Ceasing her frantic struggle, Robyn glanced with trepidation at the silver spindles and azure diodes of the menacing device. Soundless, silent, for several seconds the six assailants moved not a centimeter. Robyn, upon listening closely, noticed a faint chatter emanating from her attackers’ helmets; they seemed to be communicating. The next sensation her mind registered, however, was much more poignant; a short syringe needle of rather intimidating diameters was jabbed into her exposed neck, injecting a small payload of carefully formulated paralytic into her body. Strong arms latched around her torso, holding her still while the drug’s effects took hold and Robyn’s muscles went limp, banishing all vestiges of motor control from her form and causing her to collapse like a defilumated marionette.
The snowy-clad hitman brandishing the goop launcher stepped forwards, aiming the gunlike apparatus at the blob of gelatin cementing her foot to the ground; from a nozzle-esque mechanism below the primary barrel, a thin spray misted onto the globule of adhesive material. Upon contact, the two substances reacted with a fizzling hiss, producing thin wisps of vapor as the blob gradually dissociated into a fine, innocuous powder. Robyn’s foot was free, though she hardly possessed the capacity to use it. Her right hand was next, liberated from the goop’s vile grip only to droop uselessly by her side. Next came her face, which required a good deal more finesse and precision; a white-gloved hand shrouded her eyes while her own hand was unstuck from her mouth. Next, clumps of powder were scooped piecemeal from her lolling mouth, as intermittent squirts from the gun chipped away at the amorphous mass filling her oral cavity. Once all traces of the gluey adhesive had been removed, the pair of strong arms began dragging her towards the open doors of the bulky white van, and despite the sheer horror coursing through her bloodstream, Robyn could do nothing more than blink as she was pulled into the vehicle’s depths, the doors slamming shut and sealing her fate in armored steel.
Once all six assailants had clambered inside, they removed their helmets, one-by-one, with a cacophony of mechanical clicks and pneumatic hisses. The first was a woman; apparently in her early thirties, she was of raven hair and surprising beauty, though the malice exuded by her sharp-cheeked, cream-colored, ruby-lipped face somewhat spoiled any semblance of actual attractiveness she might have possessed. The second was a very young man, barely into his twenties, whose gaunt, sallow frame and lank, pallid hair sent simultaneous shivers of fear and pangs of disgust through Robyn’s spine and stomach, respectively. He was the one wielding the goop cannon, though the odd familiarity his face expressed struck Robyn as far more emphatic. The four others left slightly less of an impression on Robyn’s mind, though they were distinctive in their own ways as well; a bulky young man with teal eyes and a brownish crown of hair cut close to his skull; a youthful brunette with smooth, tanned skin and puffy lips; a black-haired man in his late thirties, with a face pockmarked with scars and two yellowish eyes that jittered and twitched with a frightening madness; and an androgynous-looking redheaded woman with sharp, observant eyes and a face otherwise devoid of all emotion.
The raven-haired woman, evidently their leader, turned to the sallow-faced man and motioned towards Robyn with a twitch of her head.
“It won’t be long before she regains control. Nemi, think it’s time yet?”
Her voice, sprinkled with a small helping of innocent sweetness on top, was nevertheless laden with strong undertones of enmity and ill intent.
“Fuck’s sake, I told you not to call me that! I know being the alpha bitch is your thing and all, Hecate, but you don’t need to emphasize it. And yes, we should get started. It’s almost time.”
The acrimony was much more evident in the pale man’s harsh, nasally voice, though Robyn could tell that the levels of verbal venom were carefully measured and mixed with light-hearted, jocular sarcasm, all to adequately dilute an otherwise acerbic message. Whoever this Hecate was, she was certainly not someone to be trifled with. Of far more imminent concern to Robyn, however, than this hit squad’s intersocial dynamics was exactly what this “it” was. When the first stage involved all six of the team’s members drawing their switchblades and combat knives, Robyn deduced that “it” would be decidedly unpleasant.
They started with her boots. They were slipped off easily enough, then tossed unceremoniously into a wallside compartment, into which they clattered. Her black lamé leggings were the next target for removal; instead of bothering to pull them from Robyn’s legs, they sufficed simply with slicing two long rents with their knives along each leg, pulling the scraps of eviscerated fabric from the girl’s long, sculpted legs and dropping them into the bin. The third subject of their razor-armed wrath was her coat; they cut and carved the expensive mass of textiles to shreds, which joined the remnants of her boots and leggings in the container compartment. Piece by piece, slice and shred, the rest of her outer clothing was removed from her youthful form, until she was left clad in nothing but her stylish black underwear.
In the corners of her sluggish, bleary vision, Robyn noticed the eyes of both the ashen-faced man and the chocolate-haired woman sliding over her half-naked body, piercing every open centimeter of bare, creamy skin with a predatory hunger. It was to her legs, however, that they dedicated a particular attention; in an almost perverse sense, Robyn was not surprised; time and again, it was noted that her long, elegantly sculpted legs were easily her most attractive feature. Pristine, hairless skin over smoothly muscled calves and voluptuously molded thighs, transitioning to the pleasantly rounded swell of her shapely rear end. Though hardly something she flouted on a regular basis, she took a measure of pride in the statuesque perfection of her lower body, running, swimming, and cycling on a regular basis to preserve and accentuate it. This situation was, however, a far cry from the circumstances under which she enjoyed an appreciation in her physique.
“Alright,” enunciated the sallow-faced young man, “we have the go ahead. I’ll run the camera, and we can get to work.”
He fiddled briefly with the holopad by his side, tapping and flicking at the glowing symbols until an image of the van’s interior flashed up on the screen; a camera, its lens focused squarely on Robyn, had descended from the ceiling, its ovoid shape suspended on an articulating mechanical arm. The sallow-faced man dropped the pad onto the seat behind him, licking his thin, pinkish lips as his eyes swept Robyn’s form once again, before turning expectantly to Hecate.
“Excellent.” she said, “Venus, what’s the status on the paralytics?”
“Just about perfect.” Answered the dark-skinned brunette in a sickeningly saccharine voice. “She won’t be difficult to handle, just enough to struggle a bit. As for my serum…” she held up a syringe pen filled with a glistening, rose-colored fluid, “It’s ready to go.”
“Perfect. Let’s get her dressed.”
With a few final sweeps of their knives, the last of Robyn’s clothing was stripped from her body. Naked, supine, and unable to move, she was at the complete and utter mercy of her captors, who quite obviously did not have the best of intentions in mind for her. What these intentions were, however, was still as of yet a mystery to the beleaguered girl; when the red-haired woman pulled a plastic bin from the wall and dumped its ebon contents onto the floor of the van, her anxious perplexity was only heightened.
“Corset first, Morphia, then you can get the boots. While Venus and I get it secured, Hypnos, Thanatos, you get the arms. Nemesis has the bit. We have to do this quickly; Devron doesn’t want us to linger for very long.”
The androgynous redheaded woman, evidently Morphia, picked up a black, rubbery mass from the pile at her feet. Shaking it out, she revealed it to be a misshapen tube of firm ebony rubber, replete with an assortment of straps and buckles hanging off the edge at various points. It took a few sluggish moments for Robyn to register the fact that this ‘corset’ would soon be wrapped around her waist—and a few moments more for her to launch into a convulsive panic as she jerked and spasmed in a desperate attempt to surge some life back into her muscles; alas, she could only weakly shift about.
“Hah!” exclaimed Hecate, “looks like she’s beginning to come to! This should be fun.”
The raven-haired woman took the menacing jet-black mass of synthetic material and pulled at the seam along its back; it split open wide, twin flaps like jaws ready to swallow Robyn up. As Hecate wrapped the struggling girl up in its constrictive embrace, she could do little more than jerk and wriggle under the grip of the paralytic.
Hecate pulled the thick swath of reinforced rubber, plastic, and metal around Robyn’s abdomen, synthetic material swallowing the taut curves of her waist whole. The latex’s cold, tight embrace sent shivers rattling up her spine. It creaked and scrunched as the firm material was stretched to accommodate Robyn’s stomach, constricting her already-pinched waist inwards as the corset’s reinforced ribbing dug into her flesh and pushed it inwards. Enveloping only her abdomen and lower thorax, Robyn’s breasts found no modesty among the corset’s construction, bulging over the top like a pair of ripe fruit. As the two halves of the corset met, one might have noticed the curious, saddle-like shape the back of the corset seemed to form. This, Robyn did not see; she did, however, notice the two pieces of metal worryingly reminiscent of stirrups dangling from straps on either side of her hips. Seeing the ebony prison envelop her body, feeling its inexorable crush, Robyn’s breath began to quicken, a caustic, heavy panic welling up in her core; as the corset began to compress her lungs and squeeze the air from her chest, her breaths only increased in severity; she was hyperventilating, stuck in a vicious cycle as Hecate continued to wrench the back of the corset closed.
“Looks like the panic’s starting to set in. Venus, I think it’s time. Give her the serum, then help me secure the rest of this corset.”
Venus smiled sweetly, reaching into a pocket on her suit and withdrawing the syringe pen, admiring the vibrantly tinted formula before gripping it between her fingers. Seizing one of Robyn’s thrashing ankles to hold her leg still, Venus plunged the pen’s needle into Robyn’s inner thigh, automatically injecting the bioactive cocktail directly into her femoral artery and sending its effects cascading through her body. Its first role was that of a mild sedative to calm Robyn’s frazzled nerves and slow her frantic huffing and puffing to a manageable rate. Its primary effects, however, took a little longer to manifest; a rosy mist of arousal began to descend on Robyn’s mind, clouding out her thoughts of terror and apprehension. Instead, she felt a strange, moist warmth grow in the soft folds of her bare puss, visible for all in the van to see. Her cheeks turned a burnished red as she realized this mortifying fact.
“There we go, she’s seemed to have calmed down a bit. Why… don’t we give her a new reason to struggle?”
Hecate’s lips split into a wide, vampiric smile, blood red lips ensconcing her perfect pearlescent teeth. Venus took the cue and, bearing her own devilish grin, reached between Robyn’s legs. Connected to the bottom of the corset was a Y-shaped strap, with the double-ended side corresponding and connected to the back; Venus drew this between her thighs, wrapped the flared portion of the strap over Robyn’s plump, dripping labia, and pressed the end into a little mechanical node with a click. Robyn shivered; the warmth-sapping touch of two metal rings against her anus and vulva bode her nothing but ill, and she could already sense what step came next. Eying up the two tapered objects Venus then produced from a lined box, she was hardly surprised.
“Robyn dear,” said Venus in a sugary voice, “which first? Should we get the hard, painful part over with first?” She waggled the shorter of the two, a dense black conical object with a flared base, blunt steel studs along its length, and glistening lubricant oozing out of pores in the side. “Or perhaps you’d like to go with pleasure?” Venus shook the much longer, more phallic protrusion at Robyn, causing it to wriggle; beneath its translucent surface, Robyn could see a tightly-woven lattice of iridescent strands pulsing and contracting, causing the synthetic member to flex, lengthen, and pulsate along its length. It was certainly not a decision Robyn wanted to face, so in the intervening few seconds, Venus made it for her.
“Pain it is! Boys, if you will…”
The teal-eyed man and the man with the scarred face, ostensibly Hypnos and Thanatos, respectively, seized Robyn’s legs, pulled them apart, and lifted them up, exposing her vulnerable backside to Venus’ tender mercy. Even through the sexual tizzy fogging up her thoughts, Robyn was absolutely terrified. There was little she could do, however, to halt the inexorable approach of the plug towards her exposed back door. The moment she felt its tapered tip brush her sensitive crevasse, she clenched her eyes shut, not willing to look her captors in the face as they so thoroughly violated her. Ridge by ridge, millimeter by millimeter, the brutal plug was pushed past the spasming ring of searing skin and muscle, until the monstrous invader’s bulk finally slid all the way past to nestle snugly in her rectum, her anus now clamped around a narrow divot near its end and wide base connecting to a mechanism on metal ring, locking it in tight. Tears leaked from the corner of her eyelids, agony and humiliation sitting heavy in her stomach. She could feel it now, the plug’s intrusive mass stuffing up her bottom. It was despicable, repugnant…, and worst of all, arousing.
“There we go! That wasn’t so bad, now was it? Oh, and by the way, you’ll totally have to obey our every word now, or else we’ll shock you!”
Venus punctuated this with a tap of her wrist, an action that subsequently let of a small jolt of electricity inside Robyn’s rectum. She spasmed in pain, before nodding tearfully in pained acknowledgement.
“Wonderful! And since you’ve been such a good girl, I think you deserve a reward.”
Brandishing the mechatronic cock like a weapon, Venus licked her luscious lips and zeroed in on the strap opening that provided direct access to Robyn’s swollen puss. The wide, bulbous head soon found itself nuzzling the moist, pink folds between Robyn’s legs, and Robyn in turn could feel—with spine-tingling acuity—the grotesquely animated tip bury itself in her sensitive flower. Against the force of Venus’ push, the moist softness of Robyn’s pussy lips yielded, allowing the penis’ full length and girth to slide smoothly through her birth canal, sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating up her body. A humid heat began to grow between her thighs, like a pool under a heady tropical sun. When she felt the protrusion’s tip brush her cervix, she nearly climaxed right then and there. Instead, she was left to simmer as Venus secured the base to another mechanical nodule on Robyn’s crotch strap. The woman giggled, more than satisfied with her handiwork.
“Lovely, isn’t it? The way it writhes inside of you, bringing oh-so-deliciously-close to the edge… but not now. Hecate says to wait. But, there is one last thing, to cap it all off.”
Venus brings out one last item, this one nearly taking the cake for most disturbing out of the bunch; sprouting from a black polymer tube was a thick cluster of long, luxurious golden locks matching those on Robyn’s head perfectly. Venus giggled again, then pushed the base of the tube against the back of the buttplug, securing it over the locking mechanism with another little click. Afterwards, she took to lightly kneading the curvaceous swell of Robyn’s tight, round bottom.
“And now, an adorable tail for our little pony! You will be lovely, I can tell….”
Venus gave Robyn a playful slap on the bottom, then withdrew to her seat to watch the rest of the ordeal.
“Astounding work as always, Venus. Now, for the arms.”
Reaching over Robyn’s shoulders, Hecate grabbed a lattice of straps dangling from the upper hem of her corset and drew it up and around the girl’s naked thorax. Ribbons of synthetic rubber criss-crossed between her firm, round breasts, lacing around her upper torso and connecting to a collar wrapped snugly around her neck. Though not massive, her voluptuous boobs certainly didn’t fail to impress either; already plump and perky, they were further emphasized by the black rubber straps and silver steel connectors emphasizing each. Atop the twin globes of flesh lay two bullet-hard teats, a testament to the embarrassing arousal Robyn had given up trying to hide. Hecate reached over and gave one a light, playful little tweak, causing Robyn to moan as the sensation briefly flooded across her sensitive mammaries. She then motioned to the two men to begin. Hanging off either side of her thoracic harness were curious little bundles of rubber attached to a metal shape; when unfolded, they were revealed to be punitive bondage mittens, tight rubber sacks encased within a firm rubber hoof with horseshoes attached to the front. In coordinated tandem, her arms were bent and forced to her side, where her hands were balled and pushed limply into the sacks. Straps were tightened and locked around her wrists, sealing her hands shut and finalizing their transformation from tools of dexterity to useless lumps of flesh and latex, little more than ornaments.
“Excellent. We’re ready for the boots. Morphia, if you would be so kind.”
The androgynous redhead nodded in silent affirmation, retrieving two more indeterminate clumps of rubber-plastic—of both the firm and flexible varieties—and steel. Ballet boots, they were, but not of the ordinary sort; they were missing their heels, replaced instead by gleaming crescents of alloy, molded into the shape of a horseshoe and attached to the tips of the boots to provide stability. Tug and pull, her weakly struggling feet were swallowed by the boots’ snug embrace. Soft, porous material lined the insides, cushioning her feet and providing adequate ventilation, requisites for activities Robyn did not want to envision. The various straps along their length were laced, secured, and locked, and for good measure, Morphia withdrew from seemingly nowhere a rubber-coated steel cord, hooking it to clip on the ankle of one boot and connecting it to the other. Robyn was now effectively hobbled.
“And last, but most certainly not least, is the bit gag to complete our adorable little pony! Nemesis, this one is all yours.”
Nemesis grinned wolfishly, grayish-blue eyes sparkling with malice. From Morphia’s fingers he greedily snatched the final bundle of bondage paraphernalia, untangling it to reveal an elaborate web of interlaced straps and pieces of curiously shaped polymer. At the front, a polished rubber sphere melded with a pliable latex cylinder, designed to serve as a hybridized ball/bit gag that would effectively stuff up Robyn’s mouth with its not-insubstantial bulk. Connected to either side of the cylinder, a long ribbon of reinforced elastomer looped behind her head, serving as the reins for her bit. Further up, two parallel square panels would simulate the effect of blinders, eliminating Robyn’s peripheral vision in the most dehumanizing way. Worse still, hinges on their edges allowed them to fully close over her eye sockets, which would cut off her sight entirely. At the top, a vertically-oriented hard steel tube whose purpose evaded Robyn as she observed in horrified petrification. Slowly, but surely, Nemesis worked the harness of straps over Robyn’s head; the gag was popped in between her teeth, the blinders fitted around her eyes, and her golden hair was pulled through the steel tube at the top, forming a tight, high ponytail that Nemesis soon crowned with a fluffy black feather clipped into a slot next to the cylinder. With this final, ostentatious accoutrement, her transition from girl to fetishized bondage pony was complete.
“Well, aren’t you just adorable? Say goodbye to the camera, dear, we have places to be.”
Erelim District, Seraph Sector, Vistora, 10:28 AM
Riley tore the glasses from his face, tossing them onto the café table and burying his face in his hands. Seeing his sister, his own flesh and blood, so thoroughly violated, humiliated, and dehumanized. As much as it made him sick to his stomach, as much as it drew out a broiling hatred for Devron and all of her ilk, the fact that he had written books on so similar a subject filled him with even more disgust, with no small amount directed at himself. His eyes wide and flickering with fear, he turned his gaze to the lightly reclining woman before him.
“I-I don’t have it o—“
“Don’t be coy with me, Riley. Every moment you dither is another moment I inch closer to deciding that their lives are not worth the patience required to play this insipid game. You know what I want. I know you have it. Give it to me.”
Devron’s words were curt and urgent; clearly, she wasn’t interested in further negotiating.
For what seemed like all eternity, Riley simply sat there, eyes blank and devoid of emotion, staring into an infinite distance. Then, with movements animatronic, his hand reached up to his ear, plucked two simple black earrings—a ring and a cylinder—from the soft cartilage, and like a circus automaton of old, dropped the twin pieces of metal onto the table. Wordlessly, he sunk back into his chair, eyes still gazing at nothing. Devron swept her hand over the earrings, triumph and avarice sparkling in her arctic blue eyes as she stared at the tiny components in her palm. Closing her fingers around the miniaturized data cores and slipping them into a pocket on her suit, she reclined back in her seat and surveyed the defeated man with her signature smug little grin.
“Deal well made, Mr. Wynter. I’ll hold onto these until we can extract the data. You may leave.”
Her sharp words snapped the author from his reverie. For a moment, he looked befuddled, as if he had forgotten where he was. Then, it all came rushing back.
“What? Aren’t you going to release them?”
“Of course not.”
“What!? You said that if I gave you the info, you would le—“
“Keep your voice down, Mr. Wynter, we needn’t attract any… untoward attention. And I said no such thing. I made a vague threat to harm them should you not comply, a threat I now rescind and reposit as assurance that you will not go to the authorities. You gave me a lock-and-key data core that will take a full day in a professional’s hands to decrypt. I’m just making sure this is not a ruse. Once the information is decrypted and extracted, rest assured that Robyn will be released. Kitty, I’m keeping, for reasons you’re not privy to. Again, you may leave.”
Breaths emerging heavy, like smoke, Riley stood shakily from the table. His voice emerged as but a whisper.
“I won’t tell. But I cannot stop others from finding out. Rono will discover what you’ve done, and when he does, there is no place on Earth you can hide.”
Devron’s gaze was perfectly even. Not the barest spark of emotion crossed her frigid eyes.
“That is an eventuality I am more than adequately prepared for.”
Riley simply turned his head, and left without a word. Cathryn watched his back disappear through the café door, not anticipating them ever meeting in person again. Silence. Then, from her pocket, she pulled out a small, rectangular plate of hologlass. Setting it onto the table, she activates the device and watches as a crisply resolved, stationary image of Chronos blinks into view. His voice emerges, soft and deep, emerges from the handheld computer.
“You require my assistance?”
“Yes, Chronos. What do you know of a man named Rono Wynter, spelled with a Y.”
“…Devron, whatever situation you may or may not have maneuvered yourself into that this moment, acknowledge now that such assumptions of inevitable success you so harbor are to be disregarded, as of this instant.”
“Chronos, just tell me who he is. We can discuss this in further detail later.”
“…very well. Rono Wynter, eldest son of Vistoran Defense Secretary Xavor Kestro and little-known military analyst Taylor Wynter. Half-brother of acclaimed author Riley Wynter and financial agent Robyn Winter. Graduating summa cum laude from the VSOP Academy in 2144, he currently serves as a member of the ten-strong Zero Squadron, widely acknowledged to be the most lethal military subdivision in the entirety of recorded history. Devron, if you have done something to perturb this man, let me advise you right now to amend the situation, lest its consequences manifest sooner and more severe than you anticipate. This is a conundrum even Atrix will have trouble retrieving you from. Do not underestimate these people.”
Cathryn rested her chin in her hands, mind swirling with innumerable thoughts, all coalescing into one coherent, devious plan.
“No, there is no trouble, Chronos. Thank you for your advice.”
And with that, his voice had faded away.
Myrtle District, Solaris Sector, Vistora, 10:49 PM
Prostate upon the fertile brown earth, bound limbs dug into the soft, loamy soil, straining against their botanical bonds as whimpers, meek and submissive, oozed past her plugged-up lips. Once again, in this serene wooded glade, Kitty found herself imprisoned and subjugated by plants unidentified; evidently hostile and foreign as they may have been… she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Nature, an entity she had always fought so hard to protect, to which she was now forced to so thoroughly submit…
Perhaps this mysterious flora wasn’t so malign as it first appeared. The violent flurry now subsided, the vines not so much grasped her skin as they caressed it. With every passing moment, the plants’ domineering crush melted into a gentle, tender embrace; beneath her naked body, a soft bed of spongy moss was sprouting, shielding and cushioning her delicate skin against the coarse scratch of the dirt. The creamy fluid continued to dribble onto her tongue, idly lapped up and swallowed, nourishing her body and nurturing her soul. Luminescent flowers, resplendent in gossamer petals and bloated, glowing stigmata, began to spiral up from the ground, bathing Kitarina in a candlelike glow. Such was fortunate; the single crepuscular ray that had once graced the clearing had faded to dusk, and the only light left was the lumenar ambiance cast by the luminescent flora. Kitty would almost have called it atmospheric.
The swish of movement across the ground catches Kitty’s ear. Shadows danced and morph in her periphery, but… no matter how hard she peered into the murk beyond, she could see nothing. Nothing…, save for four icy blue points glinting in the darkness. Nothing…, save for two amorphous silhouettes just beyond the touch of the light. Nothing…, save for a pair of snow-furred, azure-eyed tigers padding softly from the forest beyond. A dichotomy between the two was evident; one was large and powerful, thick muscles rippling beneath her silver hide. All she did was pace, slowly, silently, in a wide circle around the now highly bewildered girl, frigid eyes never leaving her form. The other was gaunt and insubstantial, sallow flesh seeming to hang off his skeletal frame. Nevertheless, there was a malignant glint in his feline eyes, one that drove him not around, but straight towards the supplicant girl. And then she saw it. He was ready to mate, and she looked like a female in heat just ripe for the picking. She saw him circle around behind her, heard his slow approach, felt his paws on her back.
Her silent scream never arrived. Instead, a light, pouring into her eyes in a luminous deluge. All but a dream, once again… and yet it was neither the next morning, nor was it the sunny face of Cyllia Sweete greeting her as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. The sickly pallid skin, the emotionless blue eyes. She could hardly forget the rather ghoulish look of Devron’s youthful associate, Nemesis. But this time, something was off. Though he never struck Kitty as being particularly sharp, there was a distinct dullness to his presence. Upon catching the whiffs of alcoholic Aqua Noctis floating in his breath, she decided that she had her explanation.
“Well, well. I can see why Cathryn likes keeping you around. Ohh, yesss.”
His words, though not slurred, were distinctly tinged with the intoxication that had swamped his mind with its effects.
“Get out. Now.”
Kitty obeyed the man’s directive, distinctively aware of the acerbic, threatening undertones lacing his nasally voice. Plodding from her sleep pod onto the ground, she gave him an expectant, if slightly defiant look. Nemesis bent down and, upon clipping a short leash to the front of her collar, gave it a light tug towards the room’s open exit.
She did as he commanded, waddling after him while on all fours, padded elbows and knees keeping her upright and in relative comfort as the two walked silently from the room housing all of Kitty’s dedicated accommodations. Through the penthouse corridors they traveled, until coming upon the apartment’s sleek, luxurious, tastefully decorated living room. Upon their entrance, a fire flickered to life in the fireplace, vermillion flames sending licks of heat and light across the otherwise darkened room. Nemesis slumped into an artfully sculpted sofa, drawing two items from his pocket; one, a small bottle of Aqua Noctis, from which he took another swill; the other, a small handheld atomizer, protruding from which was a little vial of amethyst liquid. Euph. Nemesis placed the mouthpiece between his teeth, squeezed the apparatus, and inhaled deeply as the potent narcotics began cascading through his system. His eyes rolled up into his head, a powerful high washing across his mind as his entire body tensed, then relaxed.
Euph, thought Kitty, if there ever was an appropriate a dug for somebody like him.
“Uuugggghhhhhhhh, fuck that’s gooooood.”
Once his eyes regained their focus, he trained them directly onto Kitty. In the most revoltingly serpentine way, his tongue slithered over his lips and teeth, irises glittering with incorrigible lust fueled by the concentrated psychoactives.
“Heh. Y’know, on a night like this, I’d usually be out and about, probably popping a few into some overpriced whore at those brothels in Borealis. But this time, I had a better idea… why blow cash out there when Cathryn’s got one perfect little sex toy hanging out in here? Or was it sex pet? I dunno, it makes no difference. One way or another… you’ll be giving me one hell of a night.”
Nemesis produced a third item, this time a glossy black saucer shape. The remote for Kitty’s suit.
“But first, let’s play a little. Have some fun. Get you all nice and ready.”
Nemesis tapped the disc’s obsidianesque surface, brining up a holographic menu floating just above its face.
“Let’s seeee… ooh, why don’t we give you a little warm-up? I’d hate to go in dry. Come up here.”
Nemesis thumbed one of the controls on the handheld control pad. For but a moment, nothing. Then, a tiny shock arced through her rectum, propelling a squawk from her plugged-up lips and sending her scrambling to climb onto the chair with Nemesis. The young man, in turn, took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her torso and pull her onto his lap, crook of his elbow imprisoning the squirming girl close to the repulsive man’s skeletal frame. Kitty bucked and wriggled, reviled by the feel of the boy’s gelid, sickly skin against her bare, sculpted abdomen. Nemesis merely chuckled, nasally voice piercing Kitty’s ear as she felt a revolting lump grow in his pants every time she brushed it. Of course, this was soon put to a stop; a second command entered on the remote sent a visceral pulse rippling up along the butt plug’s length, pounding Kitarina’s nervous system with shockwaves of pain-and-pleasure fused and placating her in an instant. Still reeling from the veritable assault, she seized up in momentary paralysis, giving Nemesis the window to reaffirm his grip around her.
“Whoa there, settle down little kitty. No need to scratch. Let’s calm you down a little.”
Nemesis reactivated the plug’s pulsation function, setting it on a higher frequency and lower amplitude. Moments later, the gently oscillating protrusion was sending waves of stimulation sweeping across Kitty’s supple body at regular intervals. A rosy fog rolled in across her thoughts, misting up her previous intent of struggle and replacing it with a concerted, singular focus on the erotic heat pulsing warmly in her pelvis. She could do little more than writhe and moan softly as the young man’s arachnoid fingers begin to explore her body. She felt his spindly digits stroke the lines of her lithely drawn belly, coming up to cup and squeeze one bulging, gargantuan breast. Voluminous, pillowy flesh yielded to his chilly grasp, as Nemesis kneaded Kitty’s round, milky tits and rolled her sensitive nipples between finger and thumb. Sliding his palm down along the pleasing concavity of her hourglass waist, his grasp came to rest against the plush swell of her voluptuous buttocks. A stroke of the thigh, a slap on the ass, it all just piled more fuel onto the flame burning in Kitty’s core.
“Fuck me, you’re so fucking hot. I can see that you’ve been desperate to get some real action since you were locked up in that chastity belt. Tell you what… show my friend a good time, and I’ll give you what you want.”
The plug ceased its pulsations, allowing Kitty to draw back a bit of clarity past the haze of unsatisfied arousal. At Nemesis’ push, she scampered off the sofa and onto the ground, eyeing him with suspicion. He simply kneeled down and grasped the bulbous end of the penis gag lodged in her jaw, unlatching it and drawing it out with a pop. Placing the drool-laden phallus atop a nearby glass coffeetable, he uses a handkerchief to mop up the small strings of saliva trailing from Kitty’s now-open mouth, jaws pinned apart by a rubber ring gag.
“Aha, there we go,” Kitty was disgusted to see his cock throb in his pants, “you’re nearly all set. That ring gag you’re wearing is quite special, by the way. Once I activate it, it will shrink while under pressure… but only under a little force. Enough to close those pretty lips arou—ahem, but not enough to, uhhh, bite. And now…”
Nemesis undid the latch on the waist of his pants, pulling it from his insubstantial hips and letting it fall to his ankles. His penis sprung into the open. Misshapen. Sallow. Varicose. Massive. Kitty stared at his grayish, off-color, circumcised, semi-erect member with a mixture of horror, disgust, and sheer wonder. Nothing so dysmorphic could be the work of a genocosmeticist. Nemesis slumped back onto the sofa, legs spread to either end and dick pointing towards the sky like some fleshy skyscraper. One hand bade Kitty’s approach; the other idly played with the remote in a not-so-subtly threatening manner. The choice had been made for her. Might as well get it over quickly. She plodded up to the young man, placed her padded elbows onto his knees and—inhaling deeply—placed her lips around the bulbous head of his penis. Squeezing the plump cockhead past the rubber ring, she set to work lapping at the smooth, sensitive flesh of his glans, pursing her luscious lips around his shaft and sucking lightly while sliding the tip of her tongue along his yawing slit. Nemesis’ thighs clenched and his bloated balls spasmed, sending jets of precum burbling up through his shaft, soon to be slurped up by the gently moaning Kitty.
Slowly, serenely, she began to bob her head back and forth along the length of his shaft; though she didn’t even come close to reaching the base—the thing must have been some twenty-four centimeters in length, and was certainly not lacking in girth—the flames of wild lust flaring up in his otherwise-dull blue eyes told her she was performing her task quite well. Her tongue slicked along the span of his rod, mouth sucking with a sudden gusto that had emerged from nowhere as her lips stroked and massaged its warm, pulsing skin. Nemesis sucked in a deep, rattling breath, fingers gripping the arms of the sofa with mortal clutches. Flicking the tip of his cock with her tongue upon extracting it from her mouth, strands of mixed drool and bulbourethral prejizz stringing from lips to glans. She pushed forwards, stroking her cheek along the side of the shaft before coming to his inflated testicles. She welled up a glob of saliva onto her tongue, then sponged it onto the surface of his stretched scrotum, bathing his balls with her tongue before slurping one of the swollen testicles into her mouth and rolling it between her tongue and palate. She wasn’t surprised to encounter a sour salinity coating his sack, the pungent taste nearly making her retch. But, she kept a straight face, dutifully cleaning and polishing his fattened gonads until they shone. He was right; she wanted, nay, needed to sate the lust bubbling between her thighs, and the sooner she got him to pop, the better. A full day’s worth spent pleasuring a rubber phallus to extract it for food had soundly shattered the last of her reservations. What was happening now hardly struck her as radical anymore.
Gradually, she retreated back to the head, licking along the underside of the shaft on her way back. Swirling her tongue around the knob like a lollipop, she stuffed his lumpy crown past her plump lips once more, proceeding to bob her head back and forth once again, slower this time, and making the effort to slide more of his sensitive length down her gullet. She started moaning quietly, luxuriant whimpers squeezing past her lips and subtly vibrating the cock in her mouth. As she patiently picked up the pace, she felt something on the back of her head; Nemesis had lightly laced his hand through her dark-chocolate locks, palm moving back and forth with the motion of her head. Breathing slowly, lightly, rhythmically as she pumped back and forth… until suddenly she felt an iron grip seize the side of her head. Nemesis plunged Kitty’s head into his pelvis, thrusting once, twice, thrice until all twenty-four centimeters of his meaty rod now rested within the warm wetness of her throat. For a moment, she was taken aback, gagging and retching on the sudden unwarranted invasion and wishing with every fiber of her being that she could clamp down hard and sever his repulsive dick once and for all. But she bore on, breathing deeply, and relaxing so as to calm her gag reflex. And then, taking advantage of the position she was now in, began to gently undulate the muscles in her throat. Her tongue emerged to cradle his testicles, tickling and teasing them. Feeling the heat and tightness of her throat ripple and splash along his shaft, Nemesis could hardly help but exclaim the pleasure jarring up his spine.
A blast of pre-ejaculate hit the back of Kitty’s throat. Nemesis’ teeth were clenched and his eyes strained; he was almost finished. A little longer, and it’d be her turn to receive the pleasure. She began to deepthroat faster, pumping up and down on his slick shaft like a steam piston, feeling the pliant mass of cockhead slide up and down her throat. Her eyes flickered open, meeting the vision of the young man to whom she was submitting to so entirely. Every iota of her soul wanted him to know the loathing she felt, yet her verdant irises reflected nothing but the wide-eyed obedience he wanted to see. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow, betraying the end of his endurance. Suddenly, he scooted forwards to the end of his seat, forcing the girl to arch her back to continue her servicing of him. Wrapping his spidery clutch around Kitty’s gargantuan tits and pressing their supple masses to either side of his cock, he began to stroke the length with her soft, silken breastflesh, forcing her back to the bulging tip of his penis. She licked and lapped and slurped and suckled at the blob of sensitive flesh pulsating in her mouth, teasing his slit while she gently sucked at his head.
Nemesis couldn’t tell if it was the insane stimulation gushing through his penis; or the feel of her voluminous boobs massaging his shaft; or the sight of her face, plump little lips around his cockhead, big doe eyes glinting emerald, against the backdrop of her plush, voluptuous asscheeks. All he could comprehend the most intense orgasm he’d ever had in his life, rocketing down his spinal cord and sending a deluge of thick, hot spunk flooding into Kitty’s mouth. Viscous and saline, the copious amounts of lumpy semen simply refused to subside, gushing from his spasming crown like a hose as his peck-infused balls poured their massive load of sperm down her throat and into her stomach. Kitty gulped and swallowed every shot, globs of slimy ejaculate surging past her tongue and palate. Not a drop escaped.
“Uggghhhh, fucking hell that was GOOD. You know how to treat a man.” Nemesis grinned wolfishly. “Now, make me hard again, and you’ll get your reward.”
Kitty had to resist the scowl nearly crossing her brow, irked by the notion of keeping his dick in her mouth any longer, yet having little choice in the matter. And so, upon engulfing a fair portion of his twitching, half-flaccid member with her oral cavity, she began to suckle his softening penis, shifting and stroking it with her tongue. It didn’t take long for the blood to rush back into his ballooning cock, and once it was erect once more, Kitty extricated the head from her maw and gave Nemesis an expectant look. He smirked. Playing with the remote, he pressed a few buttons here and there until Kitty heard a brief whirr emit from the chastity belt hugging her crotch. The firm, rubber-padded steel band split down the middle, shifting to either side of her swollen, dripping labia and nestling in the space between her thighs and pelvis.
“Ooooh, yes. Me and you are gonna enjoy this. Oh, but wait,”
Nemesis retrieved the pecker gag from the table, pushing it against Kitty’s lips until it slid past, plugging up her mouth with its rubbery bulk.
“Wouldn’t want you to be without a nice cock to suck, eh?”
Kitty tried to avoid glowering at the man, stifling the detestation churning in her gut. To her, he was just a tool, a tool to achieve what she wanted. A very demanding tool, perhaps, but she could cope.
“Yesss, let’s get started!”
Nemesis grabbed the young woman by her arms and hefted her over his lap, tip of his erect cock brushing the moist folds of her ravenous puss. For a moment, she seemed suspended mid-air, drooling snatch mere centimeters above Nemesis’ grotesquely sized rod. And then, Kitty dropped, twenty-four centimeters of cock plunging into the hot wetness between her legs. The soft, fleshy globes of her ass slapped against the boy’s thighs as his length and girth pieced through her plump labia and slammed against her cervix. Lightning bolts of erotic sensation seared up her spinal cord and sent sparks flying in her brain, the entirety of her nubile form tensing as potent pleasure bubbled through her bloodstream. Taut as a wire, slick with sweat, and moaning lasciviously as she vigorously bounced up and down atop the young man’s glistening member, Kitty’s entire world was consumed by this sole, singular task of bringing herself to that sweet ecstasy she so desired. Up and down, her twitching cunny gripping his shaft as she surged towards euphoria with every plunge. And then it hit, a tremendous tsunami of pleasure barreling into her body and sending her careening past the pearly gates of orgasm. She howled into the thick, rubbery shaft of her gag, barely noticing the spray of sterilized semen filling up her pulsating pussy with viscous, milky spunk.
For a moment, all Kitty could comprehend was the dizzy blur of shapes and colors swirling around her vision. As the patterns began to coalesce, and her head began to clear, she suddenly realized where she was, who she was with, and what she’d been doing while consumed by her libidinous tizzy. Nemesis had already set her upon the ground, and was mopping up the few flecks of cum that had splattered elsewhere in the living room. Her chastity belt had been closed shut. Once the gaunt, sallow young man had finished his brief clean-up, he led Kitarina back to her accommodations and into her sleeping pod.
“Fuck me, that was good. We’ll have to do this again, eh little kitty?”
She allowed herself the luxury of beaming him one last look of raw disgust before the lid of the pod swung shut.