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It MAY lose some minor impact due to that but I have two other stories staled and mostly finished while this one at least got far enough for a breaking-off point. There will likely be other stories before this continues but this is what is done so here you go.\n\nAlso, REALLY failing at tags.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Not what I had planned to upload next. It MAY lose some minor impact due to that but I have two other stories staled and mostly finished while this one at least got far enough for a breaking-off point. There will likely be other stories before this continues but this is what is done so here you go.

Also, REALLY failing at tags.", "writing": "By Design: Adoration Part 1\n\nBy TerraMGP\n\n\t\n\n\tEmily just wanted them to go. The brown-furred chipmunk girl radiated her cool aura of aloof hate though the soft foam pad of her bunk as she waved her hand slowly over the phantom images conjured though her jack. She tried to will her rage, her silent hate at the few remaining students who hadn't vacated the bunk room. They always stayed. Never too long. At most a few minutes. Free time was precious in the Accel program after all. A few precious fleeting hours of less monitored activity that most would spend socializing or following the properly authorized distractions.\n\n\tPart of her was screaming inside. Behind the cool exterior of quiet contempt. The fury she felt as she impotently lay there listening to the blobs of worthless carbon by the bunk room door filled the munk with a roiling festering gut mix of hate and profound annoyance. If the colt hadn't taken his stupid feline friend out of the room when he did. Well it wasn't like Emily could do anything. But she wanted to. Dear gods did she want to.\n\n\tOnce the room was clear she took up her usual routine. A small program slipped into the security system triggered by thought, allowing her to roll out of bed without anyone noticing. She pushed the post nearest to the foot of the bunk to the side and looked down at the cool ceramic tile below her. To the naked eye the slate gray plate was identical to any other. Hidden, perhaps, to the other students. Or perhaps they just didn't' care. It didn't matter to her. Emily reached under her bunk to pull out a small sliver of metal and shoved it into the one seam slightly larger than the others around that tile, popping it off with a soft thunk.\n\n\tA warm, comforting crackle filled the air. Snapping ozone and the faint buzz of poorly rigged wires as they wrapped and spread around old pipes and circumvented isolative temperature sinks set all around the ancient access hatch. A small maintenance access nook. More than once Emily had wondered if the thing was really some kind of trap. There was no way the Accel program would miss a structural flaw this obvious. Even if it was sitting under the washout bunks. The little brown-haired chipmunk had a sinking suspicion that they knew. Enough to be cautious. Not enough to stop her from coming in. \n\n\tShe slipped under the plate she'd pried from the floor and did her best to maneuver it back into place. Carefully making sure it was seated without closing off too much and leaving her unable to look out if she needed. It was a bit of a tight fit even for the young chipmunk girl. At best two meters cubed with wires and pipes around even before her own personal modifications. Thankfully the simple orange-striped blue cadet uniform was form fitting enough not to get snagged as she wormed and wiggled her way past the lines she couldn't circumvent and slipped down to the small bank of old pillows she'd made into a makeshift seat near the bottom.\n\n\tEmily looked around herself slowly. The space itself was a mesh of rigged components and cheap composite boxes shoved over the various patches she'd put on the station hardware in order to get this little haven of processing power. On her left were a series of raw analogue inputs all perfectly spaced to rest under the sleek graphite black finish and orange lights of the chipmunk girls cybernetic arm. The rigged little alcove was gods awful primitive, but anything else was too easy for AI to hack and mess up. She had to go primitive.\n\n\tA series of hard clacking keystrokes brought a holographic display into her eyes. The young munk watching with baited breath as her premade programs each worked in turn to tunnel though a series of back doors in the public network and the Accel firewalls placed on it. She watched from the outside, unlike those crazy people who insisted on direct-jacking to the network when they didn't have to. The first thing anyone should learn when slipping though network systems was how to avoid getting your brain burned out. Amazing how many gang kids and supposed military support staff failed to grasp that simple concept. \n\n\tHer vision following a series of processes that rooted their way up and around and into the massive world tree representing the company data system in full. Everyone was on it, even if most never realized it. From low class gang members to the high end execs. With her skills and training Emily could have singled out anyone she chose and had a good bit of fun ruining the life of some random. Countless custom made or prebuilt avatars fluttering around. A few years ago the tween would have considered that quite a bit of fun. Not now. It was too small too easy. They didn't make her heart race anymore. \n\n\tThe path in to her target was already well mapped out. She leaned back and watched as a custom AI carried her little tap program slowly down the side of the tree and towards the trunk at a blistering pace. Her target was far off the main grids and imperceptible to most. The window to slip in was small. Fortunately she had it down to a prescripted science\n\n\tEmily was familiar with the path. She was also familiar with the countermeasures that started to crop up. Sharp spiny thorns at first. Razors of iron-hard wood that would have ripped the psychie of anyone touching them a deep and possibly irreparable wound. This first trap was what had gotten Em curious to begin with and mapping it had taken the better part of a month. Had she never stumbled onto it while bumming around random places on the tree she might have never found her treasure. Thankfully the pattern never changed and her AI was able to slip past using the formula she'd calculated in her early days working out this puzzle.\n\n\tThe rest were like that as well. Once deadly traps that might have taken out those of lesser intellect or technical skill during the first attempt. Fractal puzzles tied to alarms. Honey pots with too good to be true signs of valuable data and false back doors. Tempting for anyone seeking a prime payday or anti-corp ammo in the foolishly hopeless crusades to topple the powers that be. Fortunately for Emily she was nowhere near as foolish. Her goals were simple, enlightened. In a way it almost made her feel that she had somehow earned her reward as much by virtue of character as anything. A prize few on this station could possibly appreciate.\n\n\tIt was a camera feed. In itself something downright innocuous. A simple running feed of a small lab with a large window in it. Through the window were a handful of pods. Medical pods. When she first found the room Emily would have guessed that it was some kind of gene tech or super soldier program. Some off the books pet project or other to help bolster military might. Such projects never had a poor shelf life since new gear and new training usually helped get normal soldiers up to speed with such super brutes cheaply.\n\n\tOh how foolish, how wrong Emily had been.\n\n\tThe camera feed she'd tapped was easy enough to control and provided a good bit of data. She located the most recent pod and zoomed in. Her heart skipping a beat as she savored one of the most wonderful feelings imaginable. This was Lady Ilkas private playroom. A hidden alcove, possibly located near the suites of the lady herself. Some dark, hidden place where the younger scion to the whole company made the most beautiful toys.\n\n\tThe act of watching the process was slow, almost ritualistic by this point. Emily leaned back and propped her feet up on either side of the small hole, wedged between the small plastic case she'd made for her coprocessor array and the junction box extension she'd slapped over a conduit. It focused on the most recent addition to one of the tubes. A young, nude fox girl who couldn't have been in her twenties just yet. There wasn't much information on her. There hardly ever was. Useless background details were a joke for the kinds of things Lady Ilka planned to do with these toys.\n\n\tThe cub bit her lip as she started to nervously tease her folds. Just a touch. Just a few little strokes with those rubbery cybernetic fingertips. Her other hand reached up to rub around her soft little areola and along the spot where she`d tried piercing her right nipple. An act of simple rebellion. It made her sensation a bit dead there. Forced her to be rough. \n\n\tShe watched the girl slowly come to as the machine began what she called foreplay. Watching the dazed fox as her eyes dilated. A wide spectrum of rays shot though her skull as it slowly mapped her neural pathways. Picking up on countless fine details as the essence of who this girl was slowly peeled back. The custom system these pods were tied to began branching out from there. Some small pocket of data cache starting to form a profile of this girl. Blooming out before her eyes. Her name, her family, her hopes and fears, her past. Everything cascading outwards in a growing matrix to be met by preset markers. Emily slowed her perception a moment as she watched this all unfold. Like watching recordings of a star starting to nova. A coldly beautiful pattern of machine logic dedicated to the precise and optimal conditions needed to create a perfect nightmare for this creature.\n\n\tThese would be the groundwork for something much greater. Something each drone would experience as they finished. Emily wondered for a moment if Lady Ilka ever did bother to look at those little files. She kept them stashed in a relatively open place, after all. The munk girl had certainly spent more than a few nights using what she'd saved of them as jill-off fodder when she had to stay in her bunk. \n\n\tShe didn't have time for that now, though. No. Next came the cuffs and the jack. An old style injection method, often used in older eras to help integration with actual prisoners. As always the material pleaded and screamed. Always the same basic pleas, the same questions. Her voice loud and ringing as she begged for help and was met only with the starts of horrible words and names and subliminal noises all geared towards growing her discomfort and dread.\n\n\tEmily reached back as she watched the injector push itself up against the back of this girls neck. The munk cub touched her own jack. A small plate of composites which helped give her already heavily augmented mind access to the larger world around her. She traced it the same way she had her nipple not long before. Pushing against the plate firmly when the gun went off with the loud guttural thunk. The young fox woman screamed and Emily moaned. The sight of such decadent suffering getting hotter every time she saw it.\n\n\tFor a moment the fox lay limp and sobbing from the tool now lodged into her mind. A colony of nanites swarming around inside of her to slowly fuse the new implant in properly. It alone probably cost more than the girl would on market. But then how could anyone put a price on that delicious moment when a mind was utterly and properly raped for the first time. Emily had to pull her fingers away from her moist sex the second she saw it. Just rubbing her jack while lingering on edge as she let the thought sink in. Watched those eyes with perfect clarity while the brain tried to regain its normal functions.\n\n\tEmily flailed her hand up against the side of the wall as she moved to flip one of the archaic physical switches in the little room. It was annoying. Especially at times like this. But it was the only way to slip past the custom Kenna shell Lady Ilka used. The only way to actually copy this data as it was formed without detection. Her hand trembled from the terror, the thrill of it all. Her digital self fast enough to watch it all unfold. Like some beautiful hell mouth birthed into the void. The half-meat half code mind of the young munk trembled in bliss at the sight as she flicked the recording switch and sank back to see it happen.\n\n\tSimple details came first. Springing up on their own. Small lines of connection between them. The girl was in a gang. She'd been in gang warfare before, She was self conscious about things. Her gender. Her ethnicity. Things that could get you abused or killed in the slums. The system knew that. Of course it knew that. Even as the details blossomed out and began to form familiar symmetrical patterns to lay out a life in raw bullet points, the most beautifully traumatic nightmare one could imagine started to form after it. A second bang into this new universe. Fear of abuse, of violation, of prejudice and objectification for such silly, simple things as genetic background, as species, as gender.\n\n\tShe watched the body of the fox going limp in slow motion as a new world was built around her. A twisted simulation of the streets she knew. A massive hunting ground, with only one prey. \n\n\tWithin moments the woman's mind was split. Part of her left painfully aware of the reality of her situation. Shuddering and screaming a meek little scream for help among the dull drone of the pods each doing the same thing at the same time. At the same time a part of her mind existed in that new digital realm. Trapped and helpless as terrifying thugs, shadows from her past life began to converge on where the fox suddenly found herself. The brown furred thing drooping her big ears in terror as she began to dash and pick her way over the rubble and debris with remarkable agility. A dash for freedom that began to slow and falter as each movement was rendered just a bit worse. Just a bit more awkward. As the chasing gang members began to draw closer already.\n\n\tEmily sighed and groaned in contentment as she turned her vision back to the pod. She could watch that little slice of hell later. They were always kind of fun. But not what she'd really come to see.\n\n\tEven as the fox started to twitch, Emily watched a slot starting to open above her. She watched the figure. Blank and still as a doll save for the fine motor twitches from the nightmare she was facing. Thick black latexy material slowly dripped and oozed its way out over the trapped figure. Cascading down slowly over the fox. Drooling like thick mud down the still body and glazed face. It seemed to move with some slight agency. It pooled and climbed slowly over her limbs and chest. Welling up even as the latex flowed like a mudslide down the doll to be.\n\n\tHalf a dozen faces at least flashed though her mind as she watched the eyes starting to go dimmer. That pretty if plain face slowly being swallowed up. Slowly being drowned as it formed over into a smooth shell. The glossy black utterly nullifying every identifying feature of the worthless material beneath. Emily squeaked loudly. The last of personhood washed away into a blank hopeless void.\n\n\tShe felt the warm satisfaction dribbling down her legs. Emily whimpering and panting hard as she watched the new doll marked and left fully processed. She watched as the pod opened. The drone stood. Slowly and mechanically. Walking out of the room without even a moments rest. Just another little trinket off to be stored, or used, or whatever was wished. Leaving an empty pod ready for more material.\n\n\tThe munk girl took a deep breath and tried to clear her lust hazed head a bit. She'd recorded it. Everything. The sight, the capture of the new nightmare being formed. Right up to the point where some thick boar ganger had the nameless fox bent over a nice bit of rubble ready to be raped.\n\n\tEmily sighed in pure contentment. She had time for another, if just barely. It was a pain waiting for a whole day before enjoying herself once more. But she was more than happy to take what pleasure she could.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tHolt, Stein, Freeman, Verner, Chang, Dobson. Admittedly Emily hated everyone in this whole gods-damned program. Those, however. Those names, they were the worst. The little brown nosers were all lined up. Morning revelry was lined by points and perceived merit. Meaning she was as always at the very tail end.\n\n\t``Before the next standard year is out, Those of you who have preformed well enough for re-consideration will be assigned to second-line positions based on your specialties. While it will be nothing as grand or wonderful as that of your more esteemed Accel peers who have already gone off to greatness, I want to stress just how important this is.'' \n\n\tCommandant Yom was a rather wicked viperess. A tall whip-sharp woman who insisted on inspecting the `troops' in her dress grays every single morning. She had the spit-polished look of someone filled to the brim with military pride, yet totally devoid of any real experience outside of basic training. If the records Emily had gotten were any indication it was at least fitting.\n\n\t``Some of you, those who have let the gut punch of washing out get your heads back on straight, will be assigned to important positions. No, you won't be winning wars or designing galaxy changing technology to keep our company on top. But you will be refining what we have. You will be filling important roles. You won't lead a whole army, but you might captain a spear of Helblades. You might not be running administration for new colonies, but you may be called upon to keep the day to day workings of a planet functioning for the local governor and in line with corp goals. It takes the brightest we can forge to make Yggdrasil what it is. The brightest beat you. But only those who could come close, people like you, have a shot at properly implementing and pushing their ideas out to the ignorant masses who don't know what's good for them.''\n\n\tLike any good drill sergeant of her species, Yom had dialed back the typical hiss of her species considerably thanks to a mix of speech therapy and probably some programming in her own wetware. The droning drawn out hiss one would expect coming as sharp spittle filled punctuations as she marched hand in glove with just enough leeway to wiggle her baton or wave it for punctuation. ``On the other hand.'' She said as she approached the end of the line, looking down at Emily ``Some of you feel no obligation to the corp that has done everything in its power to draw out your potential. Some of you squander your potential. Some of you wastes, well, we'll find some way to use you, too. But I can gods-damned guarantee you it won't be anything as glamorous as your brothers and sisters in arms may see!''\n\n\tEmily didn't flinch. The dig was meant for her. Of course it was. Half the staff here seemed to think Accel was military, or that a military attitude was going to help running it. They seemed to think she could be guilted or goaded into compliance if only she'd see how much of a `waste' she was.\n\n\tAs if the cold barkings of some over-the-hill burnout bridge officer were going to make her lower herself to their level. She didn't do it when the fist round of cuts were made. Why start now?\n\n\tEmily just looked at the woman's cold, expectant violet eyes. Gazing back unflinching save for a cocky little smirk telling the instructor which of them Emily felt was superior. Yom gazed into the cubs eyes for a long moment. Gripping and grinding the faux leather of her gloves. The noise loud and intentionally unpleasant. Emily half expected to get hit. But it seemed this time at least, Yom felt it wasn't worth the satisfaction.\n\n\t``Now then, After lunch period today Dr. Sanchez will be taking all of you on a trip to the ship yards. Current demand from the military administration has requested we get an accurate reading of both military and engineering aptitudes from all students. You, however, Ms. Muller'' the snake snapped as she looked at Emily ``You can remain here. I'm sure the fleet will be better off without your troublemaking''\n\n\tThe viper seemed to change her mind about violence once more as she shoved the munk girl with the tip of the baton. Pressing it into a stain that had apparently been left on the girls jumpsuit. Emily did her best not to fall over, but her smile widened. She looked over at the other cadets al in a line. She could picture it now. Holt bragging about how he was sure to be put on defensive tactical with his own spear of ships. Stein thrusting her lanky feline body at the arrogant stallion and insisting that she'd follow him whatever his assignment was, as if they had a choice. Verner and Chang were probably geeking out at the mention of open Engineering slots. Dobson... everyone knew Dobson was going to be a company Gothi or otherwise wind up somewhere in the religious hexarchy.\n\n\tEvery time Emily went on her little 'expeditions' she liked to pretend those little bitches were in the pods, waiting to have their own smug nightmares turned inwards. Simultaneously living in hell while fully aware of being hopeless little puppets. But of course, that last part wouldn't be any different would it? \n\n--------------------\n\n\tThere were times that Emily was all but convinced the Accel staff had given up on her. Not that she minded. It as nice to just do what she wanted, a brilliant but clearly irrational girl with two point four million worth of military grade tech jammed in her head and handlers too concerned with her 'viable' contemporaries to bother with her.\n\n\tIt was on her mind as she held up a paw to the med bay control panel and let the small ball of quantum-photonic processor wrapped in superdense transition fibers dance with her cerebrum. The machine needed no reality overlay or dive into the public system. A few quick thoughts and lines of premade lock breaking script were arching their way though the interface with the local network and the door locks. Needing only the smallest nudges before the electromagnets popped and the door clunked open. Not sliding back as it usually would but instead resting free on the track which let it slide into the wall proper.\n\n\tEmily slipped her fingers in the gap and pushed it open. She needed only enough space to get herself in to the bay and then waved a finger to lock the heavy metal sheet once more. No sense in letting any of the guards or teachers take notice that something was amiss.\n\n\tThe first disappointment hit almost at once. The pods were wrong. Five of them rested along the right half of the bay with the simpler diagnostic stations and lab resting on the left. Each pod was painted with sharp blacks and whites in order to match the typical hospital aesthetic. They were top of the line. Everything was top of the line for Accel. More advanced sensor packages, complex secondary systems to allow real time lucidity from tranquilized patients without allowing for pain or discomfort. It was all really wonderful. It also seemed far nicer than what Lady Ilka used.\n\n\tStill it was close. Closer than Emily had ever gotten before. She walked up to the thick transparent tube shaped door slowly and ran her fingertips along it with an almost menacing reverence. She'd lost count of how many times she'd seen others in tools like this. How many times she'd wanted to shove one of her classmates into one of these things and watch as they were coated. Watch as they were sealed away and their minds flooded with new tech and new programming. Seeing their smug faces vanish forever behind thick rubbery perfection while York or Sanchez or her thrice-gods-damned sister were slowly dragged into a pitch perfect nightmare while watching their bodies made into hopeless service tools.\n\n\tEmily bit her lip and took a deep breath. She longed to see it. She longed to be it. Some part of her she'd never admit to the others really did yearn for the idea. Even if they all deserved it far more.\n\n\tThe hatch popped open easily enough. No reason to seal these pods. Anything that could be done with them could be done better with half a dozen other tools on-site and without the need to actually sneak away from the commons area. But not this. Not for her.\n\n\tThe adrenaline shot into her heart like raw plasma as she slipped herself up and slowly in to the pod. She could barely contain herself as she settled her feet onto the bottom plate and shut the tube behind her. The cub started to run her fingertips over the seam between the pod wall and door. It was such simple, common material. Thanks to the advanced components in her prosthetic arm the information cascaded to her in two dueling packages. One set simple factual data. Material composition, tensile strength, basic ultrasound images of what was laying within those wall compartments. \n\n\tAt the same time there was a starburst of sensations the unenhanced could never imagine. The maddening catharsis of the composite and metal in its micron-perfect grain. The hatches themselves and where they opened. Each one invisible to the naked eye and yet so very apparent to the soft almost rubbery tips of her hand. She knew what each one did by now. At least what each one did in the process. She found the port where the jacks would be hard installed. The syringes for various nanite composites. The top. Well the top lacked the specific port where that pretty, rubbery fluid would start to leak down on the trapped little dolls. Of course it did. That was probably part of why the Lady hadn't upgraded her systems. After all money was no object, but there was little sense in getting something to better care for the health of patients when it was inferior for creating her dollhouse.\n\n\tShe took a moment more to simply touch things. The simple synth leather over the padding below her. Feeling the small spots where the restraints would come out. A simple rail that worked with the elevating foot plate and padding to line the patient, or victim, perfectly in the restraints. Anything with sensations this real didn't offer her an experience like this. The mundanely of these pods to the stupid unwashed milling about in the wheel of the station or even the foolish aristocrats in the spires. Nobody would overclock the sense input on anything this mundane and utilitarian.\n\n\tThen again none of them knew just what she knew about Lady Ilka. Gods if she really wanted she could sell sense bombs of the experience in the right circles. But she wouldn't. This was just for her. Just for Em.\n\n\tWhen the initial euphoria finally passed Emily reached up with a trembling paw to start undoing the small strip of material that went over her throat in the item. She undid the fastener and gripped the tiny seal tab below it. Slowly the tab unzipped her outfit down the left side of her body. Soft white chest fur exposed to the slight cool of the ambient room temp. Emily was quick to get the thing down and start wriggling herself free of the confining clothing. Slipping the sleeveless arm holes off of her with a shrug and worming her back until the out fit was finally able to fall and pool around her booted ankles. Emily blushed and shivered as she looked out from the pod feeling her body wonderfully exposed. Just picturing that gorgeous wolf standing at the other side. Regal, powerful, watching her.\n\n\tFuck she was getting herself way too worked up.\n\n\tSoon the boots were off and kicked to one side along with the jumpsuit. She stood there. Naked, trembling, wet, physically and mentally overwhelmed as the eagerness and anxiety twisted in her augmented little brain. The munk girl spent a few moments caressing herself teasingly. First her thighs, then her pelvis. Finally fingers starting to poke and prod her folds. She used her left arm, trembling a little as she did so. A thought switching the sensors off as she tried to nudge the appendage into an awkward position. \n\n\t``Lady Ilka. Please. No'' She muttered to herself as her mind struggled to picture that beautiful woman toying and teasing with her own body. Not quite the cold unfeeling horror of the pods. But some wonderful prelude. Tears actually starting to form as she wriggled and writhed on her own fingers and tried to put her feet, her other hand, right where the cuffs would be. \n\n\tThe smell of her fresh and overly hormonal young body was quick to hit her nostrils. An odd musky musty smell that only ever seemed really at place anymore when mixed with industrial lubricants, sweat and ozone. Her flat chest heaved in the scent greedily while chemicals and circuits in her head struggled to find balance with the idea of the horror she longed for. The hopeless dread the little munk longed to see on the faces of all those pathetic rubbery toys while blank empty faces hid the delicious nightmares within. You'd have to be crazy to subject someone to such a fate. Crazier to desire it. Emily let out a whimper and wriggled her hips longingly on her fingers as she tried to wring a few tears from her eyes.\n\n\tA few small tweaks got her into a good rhythm. The arm moving and twitching on its own. Her hips struggling to escape before wriggling and hammering back down onto the rubbery furless digits which probed deeper with each little thrust. Em shut her eyes as she tried to push that familiar voice into her ears. Struggling to imagine the words as clearly as she could in her overclocked mind. ``P-please don't hurt me, My lady.'' Emily muttered the plea like a prayer ``I can get you others. Make them suffer. Make them cry for you. Please.'' She swallowed hard and curled her fingers hard into her folds. Rough and uncaring for her own pleasure which only served to spike her pleasure further.\n\n\tThe mechanical precision let her edge so wonderfully. It would be easy to push herself over. It would be easy to cum if she really wanted. But her lady wouldn't let her. She was sure of it. Lady Ilka would make her suffer. Would make her struggle. She was nothing to Lady Ilka. Nothing to such a strong powerful creature. They all were. There to be tortured. Used. Twisted. Consumed by the twisted beautiful princess. Emily was sure her heart could beat out of her chest if she kept up. All she could do was let herself hang on that edge of arousal and drown in her own little fantasies.\n\n\tSo lost in her daydreams was the little munk that she failed to notice the sudden snap of a hatch. The clothing that had pooled up at the bottom of her pod yanked away quickly by one of the arms. Emily arched on her tiptoes and let the warm sensation of her own fluids bathe her aching thigh muscles as she held the awkward position she'd chosen. For just a moment her hyper-aware mind escaped into the blissful fantasy of her Lady taking her. Claiming her. Making her something special.\n\n\tThe bliss went on just long enough to addle her mind. As Emily looked out though the medical pod glass she was sure she could see it hazing with the result of her heat and sweat. At least until the door went totally opaque Suddenly shifting to a deep rich black with bright red warning signs flashing in reverse before her eyes. The magnetic locks on the door slammed shut firmly The telltale hiss of a quarantine seal clicking in afterwards.\n\n\t``What the hell?'' she blinked and winced. Her first instinct to lean up and push on the pod. Not that she could get much leverage. ``H-hey! What the hell just happened? Hello? Anyone out there?'' she yelped. The munk quickly felt a nervousness growing in her chest. She tried to pull her enhanced arm away from its current task. Wincing a bit as it refused to budge. ``Oh fuck'' she spat. She reached down and tried to push the arm away now. Her left shoulder slumping and biological arm gripping and wrenching hard at the smooth fiber-patterned composite of her forearm. The only response was the vastly superior prosthetic pushing the fingers in a bit harder, a bit deeper. Sensory input not only turned on but up. Allowing her to feel the now painful probing of the slick membrane with horrific clarity.\n\n\tEven as her arm seemed to protest being removed from its designated task, Emily could faintly hear the sounds of something grinding along though the small medical bay. She felt her pod shake, rumble. Her mind quickly leaping from the now painful three-digit probing as she tried to split her attention to hacking into the pod itself. The attempt failed almost instantly as the ports all seemed to have been forcibly burned out. She shut her eyes tighter and tried to slowly probe around for a transmission node nearby. Her honey-brown eyes welling with tears as the sharp sensation of her own hand roughly poking and digging into the soft velvety flesh of her insides almost doubled the poor girl over in pleasure pain.\n\n\tThen, things started to move. The inertial was slow but deliberate. The frantic mental probing to feel the antenna in her wetware tingle with an external signal simply didn't come. It slowly started of dawn on her that the ever present array of nodes and uplinks within the public information grid, hell the grid itself, was cut off from her. The quarantine system. The locks. All of the computational hardware of her head was trapped within a powerful faraday cage. The pod sealing her off from the outside world even as the pod began to move.\n\n\t``Hey! Someone is in here!'' Emily shouted as she tried to bang on the door. ``Do you hear me? Stupid machine someone is in the pod! It's not broken. Let me out! Gah!'' she screamed once more and started to tremble. The rough feel of the artificial material grinding against her conflicting with the relentless and unfiltered sensation of her own wet nethers made it hard to think. What little focus she had straining to keep hold of herself and formulate a plan.\n\n\tThe cub tried to bang on the glass first. Throwing her right arm in hard swings at the durable opaque ceramic. Each blow landed with a soft tink as her furry little fist struggled to get leverage with her leaned-back position and the shrinking weakness of her constant near orgasm. \n\n\tFor all of her wants and desires, all of her little fantasies, this was the first time Emily had felt real terror. Alone and trembling she struggled and screamed while the pod moved along its intended path. At first she had suspected some kind of prank. One of the other washouts had caught her, was dragging her before the others. Had somehow hacked her arm when she was sleeping. After the first five minutes of movement the odds of that were all but nil. She continued to scream her shrill screams as her now rubbery leg lifted up and kicked hard at the door. Each blow delivering a bit more power. But only just. Enough to send a shock back though her as the solid seal and thick material kept her trapped in place.\n\n\tShe only managed a few kicks before the shift to her body position caused fresh pain and pleasure to surge though the poor munk. The fingers somehow picking up speed and vigor while not allowing her over the edge. Emily collapsed down against the foot rest in a heap and started to sob and moan and cough her screamed out little throat sore. Unable to do anything but helplessly speculate at her fate and ride the agonizing edge of bliss her traitor limb pressed upon her.\n\n\tBy the time she'd gotten her head settled once more there was no possible way for Emily to use the movements to judge where she was. She'd moved too far and had no downloaded map of the station to guess. Not that it mattered. For all she knew she could be hauled off to one of the cargo pods. Some bitch teacher or worthless student finally deciding to get rid of her once and for all.\n\n\tIt was agonizing hours by the time the pod stopped. She was so hazy it was almost impossible to tell. A hard thud slamming her down on the heavy floor as the warning lights finally flashed out. Emily cast her tear-filled eyes up. Dark pixie cut falling back out of her tear stained face and red shot eyes. A moment later the dark black ceramic view glass finally turned clear again. A face gazed back at her with childlike bemusement. Long slightly matted blonde hair. A sharp regale muzzle. The slender, almost emaciated figure stood over her looking in with an all too familiar sadistic grin.\n\n\t``Well now.'' The woman said as she licked her lips slowly. ``And here I was worried I would be bored today.''\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "By Design: Adoration Part 1

By TerraMGP

\t

\tEmily just wanted them to go. The brown-furred chipmunk girl radiated her cool aura of aloof hate though the soft foam pad of her bunk as she waved her hand slowly over the phantom images conjured though her jack. She tried to will her rage, her silent hate at the few remaining students who hadn't vacated the bunk room. They always stayed. Never too long. At most a few minutes. Free time was precious in the Accel program after all. A few precious fleeting hours of less monitored activity that most would spend socializing or following the properly authorized distractions.

\tPart of her was screaming inside. Behind the cool exterior of quiet contempt. The fury she felt as she impotently lay there listening to the blobs of worthless carbon by the bunk room door filled the munk with a roiling festering gut mix of hate and profound annoyance. If the colt hadn't taken his stupid feline friend out of the room when he did. Well it wasn't like Emily could do anything. But she wanted to. Dear gods did she want to.

\tOnce the room was clear she took up her usual routine. A small program slipped into the security system triggered by thought, allowing her to roll out of bed without anyone noticing. She pushed the post nearest to the foot of the bunk to the side and looked down at the cool ceramic tile below her. To the naked eye the slate gray plate was identical to any other. Hidden, perhaps, to the other students. Or perhaps they just didn't' care. It didn't matter to her. Emily reached under her bunk to pull out a small sliver of metal and shoved it into the one seam slightly larger than the others around that tile, popping it off with a soft thunk.

\tA warm, comforting crackle filled the air. Snapping ozone and the faint buzz of poorly rigged wires as they wrapped and spread around old pipes and circumvented isolative temperature sinks set all around the ancient access hatch. A small maintenance access nook. More than once Emily had wondered if the thing was really some kind of trap. There was no way the Accel program would miss a structural flaw this obvious. Even if it was sitting under the washout bunks. The little brown-haired chipmunk had a sinking suspicion that they knew. Enough to be cautious. Not enough to stop her from coming in.

\tShe slipped under the plate she'd pried from the floor and did her best to maneuver it back into place. Carefully making sure it was seated without closing off too much and leaving her unable to look out if she needed. It was a bit of a tight fit even for the young chipmunk girl. At best two meters cubed with wires and pipes around even before her own personal modifications. Thankfully the simple orange-striped blue cadet uniform was form fitting enough not to get snagged as she wormed and wiggled her way past the lines she couldn't circumvent and slipped down to the small bank of old pillows she'd made into a makeshift seat near the bottom.

\tEmily looked around herself slowly. The space itself was a mesh of rigged components and cheap composite boxes shoved over the various patches she'd put on the station hardware in order to get this little haven of processing power. On her left were a series of raw analogue inputs all perfectly spaced to rest under the sleek graphite black finish and orange lights of the chipmunk girls cybernetic arm. The rigged little alcove was gods awful primitive, but anything else was too easy for AI to hack and mess up. She had to go primitive.

\tA series of hard clacking keystrokes brought a holographic display into her eyes. The young munk watching with baited breath as her premade programs each worked in turn to tunnel though a series of back doors in the public network and the Accel firewalls placed on it. She watched from the outside, unlike those crazy people who insisted on direct-jacking to the network when they didn't have to. The first thing anyone should learn when slipping though network systems was how to avoid getting your brain burned out. Amazing how many gang kids and supposed military support staff failed to grasp that simple concept.

\tHer vision following a series of processes that rooted their way up and around and into the massive world tree representing the company data system in full. Everyone was on it, even if most never realized it. From low class gang members to the high end execs. With her skills and training Emily could have singled out anyone she chose and had a good bit of fun ruining the life of some random. Countless custom made or prebuilt avatars fluttering around. A few years ago the tween would have considered that quite a bit of fun. Not now. It was too small too easy. They didn't make her heart race anymore.

\tThe path in to her target was already well mapped out. She leaned back and watched as a custom AI carried her little tap program slowly down the side of the tree and towards the trunk at a blistering pace. Her target was far off the main grids and imperceptible to most. The window to slip in was small. Fortunately she had it down to a prescripted science

\tEmily was familiar with the path. She was also familiar with the countermeasures that started to crop up. Sharp spiny thorns at first. Razors of iron-hard wood that would have ripped the psychie of anyone touching them a deep and possibly irreparable wound. This first trap was what had gotten Em curious to begin with and mapping it had taken the better part of a month. Had she never stumbled onto it while bumming around random places on the tree she might have never found her treasure. Thankfully the pattern never changed and her AI was able to slip past using the formula she'd calculated in her early days working out this puzzle.

\tThe rest were like that as well. Once deadly traps that might have taken out those of lesser intellect or technical skill during the first attempt. Fractal puzzles tied to alarms. Honey pots with too good to be true signs of valuable data and false back doors. Tempting for anyone seeking a prime payday or anti-corp ammo in the foolishly hopeless crusades to topple the powers that be. Fortunately for Emily she was nowhere near as foolish. Her goals were simple, enlightened. In a way it almost made her feel that she had somehow earned her reward as much by virtue of character as anything. A prize few on this station could possibly appreciate.

\tIt was a camera feed. In itself something downright innocuous. A simple running feed of a small lab with a large window in it. Through the window were a handful of pods. Medical pods. When she first found the room Emily would have guessed that it was some kind of gene tech or super soldier program. Some off the books pet project or other to help bolster military might. Such projects never had a poor shelf life since new gear and new training usually helped get normal soldiers up to speed with such super brutes cheaply.

\tOh how foolish, how wrong Emily had been.

\tThe camera feed she'd tapped was easy enough to control and provided a good bit of data. She located the most recent pod and zoomed in. Her heart skipping a beat as she savored one of the most wonderful feelings imaginable. This was Lady Ilkas private playroom. A hidden alcove, possibly located near the suites of the lady herself. Some dark, hidden place where the younger scion to the whole company made the most beautiful toys.

\tThe act of watching the process was slow, almost ritualistic by this point. Emily leaned back and propped her feet up on either side of the small hole, wedged between the small plastic case she'd made for her coprocessor array and the junction box extension she'd slapped over a conduit. It focused on the most recent addition to one of the tubes. A young, nude fox girl who couldn't have been in her twenties just yet. There wasn't much information on her. There hardly ever was. Useless background details were a joke for the kinds of things Lady Ilka planned to do with these toys.

\tThe cub bit her lip as she started to nervously tease her folds. Just a touch. Just a few little strokes with those rubbery cybernetic fingertips. Her other hand reached up to rub around her soft little areola and along the spot where she`d tried piercing her right nipple. An act of simple rebellion. It made her sensation a bit dead there. Forced her to be rough.

\tShe watched the girl slowly come to as the machine began what she called foreplay. Watching the dazed fox as her eyes dilated. A wide spectrum of rays shot though her skull as it slowly mapped her neural pathways. Picking up on countless fine details as the essence of who this girl was slowly peeled back. The custom system these pods were tied to began branching out from there. Some small pocket of data cache starting to form a profile of this girl. Blooming out before her eyes. Her name, her family, her hopes and fears, her past. Everything cascading outwards in a growing matrix to be met by preset markers. Emily slowed her perception a moment as she watched this all unfold. Like watching recordings of a star starting to nova. A coldly beautiful pattern of machine logic dedicated to the precise and optimal conditions needed to create a perfect nightmare for this creature.

\tThese would be the groundwork for something much greater. Something each drone would experience as they finished. Emily wondered for a moment if Lady Ilka ever did bother to look at those little files. She kept them stashed in a relatively open place, after all. The munk girl had certainly spent more than a few nights using what she'd saved of them as jill-off fodder when she had to stay in her bunk.

\tShe didn't have time for that now, though. No. Next came the cuffs and the jack. An old style injection method, often used in older eras to help integration with actual prisoners. As always the material pleaded and screamed. Always the same basic pleas, the same questions. Her voice loud and ringing as she begged for help and was met only with the starts of horrible words and names and subliminal noises all geared towards growing her discomfort and dread.

\tEmily reached back as she watched the injector push itself up against the back of this girls neck. The munk cub touched her own jack. A small plate of composites which helped give her already heavily augmented mind access to the larger world around her. She traced it the same way she had her nipple not long before. Pushing against the plate firmly when the gun went off with the loud guttural thunk. The young fox woman screamed and Emily moaned. The sight of such decadent suffering getting hotter every time she saw it.

\tFor a moment the fox lay limp and sobbing from the tool now lodged into her mind. A colony of nanites swarming around inside of her to slowly fuse the new implant in properly. It alone probably cost more than the girl would on market. But then how could anyone put a price on that delicious moment when a mind was utterly and properly raped for the first time. Emily had to pull her fingers away from her moist sex the second she saw it. Just rubbing her jack while lingering on edge as she let the thought sink in. Watched those eyes with perfect clarity while the brain tried to regain its normal functions.

\tEmily flailed her hand up against the side of the wall as she moved to flip one of the archaic physical switches in the little room. It was annoying. Especially at times like this. But it was the only way to slip past the custom Kenna shell Lady Ilka used. The only way to actually copy this data as it was formed without detection. Her hand trembled from the terror, the thrill of it all. Her digital self fast enough to watch it all unfold. Like some beautiful hell mouth birthed into the void. The half-meat half code mind of the young munk trembled in bliss at the sight as she flicked the recording switch and sank back to see it happen.

\tSimple details came first. Springing up on their own. Small lines of connection between them. The girl was in a gang. She'd been in gang warfare before, She was self conscious about things. Her gender. Her ethnicity. Things that could get you abused or killed in the slums. The system knew that. Of course it knew that. Even as the details blossomed out and began to form familiar symmetrical patterns to lay out a life in raw bullet points, the most beautifully traumatic nightmare one could imagine started to form after it. A second bang into this new universe. Fear of abuse, of violation, of prejudice and objectification for such silly, simple things as genetic background, as species, as gender.

\tShe watched the body of the fox going limp in slow motion as a new world was built around her. A twisted simulation of the streets she knew. A massive hunting ground, with only one prey.

\tWithin moments the woman's mind was split. Part of her left painfully aware of the reality of her situation. Shuddering and screaming a meek little scream for help among the dull drone of the pods each doing the same thing at the same time. At the same time a part of her mind existed in that new digital realm. Trapped and helpless as terrifying thugs, shadows from her past life began to converge on where the fox suddenly found herself. The brown furred thing drooping her big ears in terror as she began to dash and pick her way over the rubble and debris with remarkable agility. A dash for freedom that began to slow and falter as each movement was rendered just a bit worse. Just a bit more awkward. As the chasing gang members began to draw closer already.

\tEmily sighed and groaned in contentment as she turned her vision back to the pod. She could watch that little slice of hell later. They were always kind of fun. But not what she'd really come to see.

\tEven as the fox started to twitch, Emily watched a slot starting to open above her. She watched the figure. Blank and still as a doll save for the fine motor twitches from the nightmare she was facing. Thick black latexy material slowly dripped and oozed its way out over the trapped figure. Cascading down slowly over the fox. Drooling like thick mud down the still body and glazed face. It seemed to move with some slight agency. It pooled and climbed slowly over her limbs and chest. Welling up even as the latex flowed like a mudslide down the doll to be.

\tHalf a dozen faces at least flashed though her mind as she watched the eyes starting to go dimmer. That pretty if plain face slowly being swallowed up. Slowly being drowned as it formed over into  a smooth shell. The glossy black utterly nullifying every identifying feature of the worthless material beneath. Emily squeaked loudly. The last of personhood washed away into a blank hopeless void.

\tShe felt the warm satisfaction dribbling down her legs. Emily whimpering and panting hard as she watched the new doll marked and left fully processed. She watched as the pod opened. The drone stood. Slowly and mechanically. Walking out of the room without even a moments rest. Just another little trinket off to be stored, or used, or whatever was wished. Leaving an empty pod ready for more material.

\tThe munk girl took a deep breath and tried to clear her lust hazed head a bit. She'd recorded it. Everything. The sight, the capture of the new nightmare being formed. Right up to the point where some thick boar ganger had the nameless fox bent over a nice bit of rubble ready to be raped.

\tEmily sighed in pure contentment. She had time for another, if just barely. It was a pain waiting for a whole day before enjoying herself once more. But she was more than happy to take what pleasure she could.

--------------------

\tHolt, Stein, Freeman, Verner, Chang, Dobson. Admittedly Emily hated everyone in this whole gods-damned program. Those, however. Those names, they were the worst. The little brown nosers were all lined up. Morning revelry was lined by points and perceived merit. Meaning she was as always at the very tail end.

\t``Before the next standard year is out, Those of you who have preformed well enough for re-consideration will be assigned to second-line positions based on your specialties. While it will be nothing as grand or wonderful as that of your more esteemed Accel peers who have already gone off to greatness, I want to stress just how important this is.''

\tCommandant Yom was a rather wicked viperess. A tall whip-sharp woman who insisted on inspecting the `troops' in her dress grays every single morning. She had the spit-polished look of someone filled to the brim with military pride, yet totally devoid of any real experience outside of basic training. If the records Emily had gotten were any indication it was at least fitting.

\t``Some of you, those who have let the gut punch of washing out get your heads back on straight, will be assigned to important positions. No, you won't be winning wars or designing galaxy changing technology to keep our company on top. But you will be refining what we have. You will be filling important roles. You won't lead a whole army, but you might captain a spear of Helblades. You might not be running administration for new colonies, but you may be called upon to keep the day to day workings of a planet functioning for the local governor and in line with corp goals. It takes the brightest we can forge to make Yggdrasil what it is. The brightest beat you. But only those who could come close, people like you, have a shot at properly implementing and pushing their ideas out to the ignorant masses who don't know what's good for them.''

\tLike any good drill sergeant of her species, Yom had dialed back the typical hiss of her species considerably thanks to a mix of speech therapy and probably some programming in her own wetware. The droning drawn out hiss one would expect coming as sharp spittle filled punctuations as she marched hand in glove with just enough leeway to wiggle her baton or wave it for punctuation. ``On the other hand.'' She said as she approached the end of the line, looking down at Emily ``Some of you feel no obligation to the corp that has done everything in its power to draw out your potential. Some of you squander your potential. Some of you wastes, well, we'll find some way to use you, too. But I can gods-damned guarantee you it won't be anything as glamorous as your brothers and sisters in arms may see!''

\tEmily didn't flinch. The dig was meant for her. Of course it was. Half the staff here seemed to think Accel was military, or that a military attitude was going to help running it. They seemed to think she could be guilted or goaded into compliance if only she'd see how much of a `waste' she was.

\tAs if the cold barkings of some over-the-hill burnout bridge officer were going to make her lower herself to their level. She didn't do it when the fist round of cuts were made. Why start now?

\tEmily just looked at the woman's cold, expectant violet eyes. Gazing back unflinching save for a cocky little smirk telling the instructor which of them Emily felt was superior. Yom gazed into the cubs eyes for a long moment. Gripping and grinding the faux leather of her gloves. The noise loud and intentionally unpleasant. Emily half expected to get hit. But it seemed this time at least, Yom felt it wasn't worth the satisfaction.

\t``Now then, After lunch period today Dr. Sanchez will be taking all of you on a trip to the ship yards. Current demand from the military administration has requested we get an accurate reading of both military and engineering aptitudes from all students. You, however, Ms. Muller'' the snake snapped as she looked at Emily ``You can remain here. I'm sure the fleet will be better off without your troublemaking''

\tThe viper seemed to change her mind about violence once more as she shoved the munk girl with the tip of the baton. Pressing it into a stain that had apparently been left on the girls jumpsuit. Emily did her best not to fall over, but her smile widened. She looked over at the other cadets al in a line. She could picture it now. Holt bragging about how he was sure to be put on defensive tactical with his own spear of ships. Stein thrusting her lanky feline body at the arrogant stallion and insisting that she'd follow him whatever his assignment was, as if they had a choice. Verner and Chang were probably geeking out at the mention of open Engineering slots. Dobson... everyone knew Dobson was going to be a company Gothi or otherwise wind up somewhere in the religious hexarchy.

\tEvery time Emily went on her little 'expeditions' she liked to pretend those little bitches were in the pods, waiting to have their own smug nightmares turned inwards. Simultaneously living in hell while fully aware of being hopeless little puppets. But of course, that last part wouldn't be any different would it?

--------------------

\tThere were times that Emily was all but convinced the Accel staff had given up on her. Not that she minded. It as nice to just do what she wanted, a brilliant but clearly irrational girl with two point four million worth of military grade tech jammed in her head and handlers too concerned with her 'viable' contemporaries to bother with her.

\tIt was on her mind as she held up a paw to the med bay control panel and let the small ball of quantum-photonic processor wrapped in superdense transition fibers dance with her cerebrum. The machine needed no reality overlay or dive into the public system. A few quick thoughts and lines of premade lock breaking script were arching their way though the interface with the local network and the door locks. Needing only the smallest nudges before the electromagnets popped and the door clunked open. Not sliding back as it usually would but instead resting free on the track which let it slide into the wall proper.

\tEmily slipped her fingers in the gap and pushed it open. She needed only enough space to get herself in to the bay and then waved a finger to lock the heavy metal sheet once more. No sense in letting any of the guards or teachers take notice that something was amiss.

\tThe first disappointment hit almost at once. The pods were wrong. Five of them rested along the right half of the bay with the simpler diagnostic stations and lab resting on the left. Each pod was painted with sharp blacks and whites in order to match the typical hospital aesthetic. They were top of the line. Everything was top of the line for Accel. More advanced sensor packages, complex secondary systems to allow real time lucidity from tranquilized patients without allowing for pain or discomfort. It was all really wonderful. It also seemed far nicer than what Lady Ilka used.

\tStill it was close. Closer than Emily had ever gotten before. She walked up to the thick transparent tube shaped door slowly and ran her fingertips along it with an almost menacing reverence. She'd lost count of how many times she'd seen others in tools like this. How many times she'd wanted to shove one of her classmates into one of these things and watch as they were coated. Watch as they were sealed away and their minds flooded with new tech and new programming. Seeing their smug faces vanish forever behind thick rubbery perfection while York or Sanchez or her thrice-gods-damned sister were slowly dragged into a pitch perfect nightmare while watching their bodies made into hopeless service tools.

\tEmily bit her lip and took a deep breath. She longed to see it. She longed to be it. Some part of her she'd never admit to the others really did yearn for the idea. Even if they all deserved it far more.

\tThe hatch popped open easily enough. No reason to seal these pods. Anything that could be done with them could be done better with half a dozen other tools on-site and without the need to actually sneak away from the commons area. But not this. Not for her.

\tThe adrenaline shot into her heart like raw plasma as she slipped herself up and slowly in to the pod. She could barely contain herself as she settled her feet onto the bottom plate and shut the tube behind her. The cub started to run her fingertips over the seam between the pod wall and door. It was such simple, common material. Thanks to the advanced components in her prosthetic arm the information cascaded to her in two dueling packages. One set simple factual data. Material composition, tensile strength, basic ultrasound images of what was laying within those wall compartments.

\tAt the same time there was a starburst of sensations the unenhanced could never imagine. The maddening catharsis of the composite and metal in its micron-perfect grain. The hatches themselves and where they opened. Each one invisible to the naked eye and yet so very apparent to the soft almost rubbery tips of her hand. She knew what each one did by now. At least what each one did in the process. She found the port where the jacks would be hard installed. The syringes for various nanite composites. The top. Well the top lacked the specific port where that pretty, rubbery fluid would start to leak down on the trapped little dolls. Of course it did. That was probably part of why the Lady hadn't upgraded her systems. After all money was no object, but there was little sense in getting something to better care for the health of patients when it was inferior for creating her dollhouse.

\tShe took a moment more to simply touch things. The simple synth leather over the padding below her. Feeling the small spots where the restraints would come out. A simple rail that worked with the elevating foot plate and padding to line the patient, or victim, perfectly in the restraints. Anything with sensations this real didn't offer her an experience like this. The mundanely of these pods to the stupid unwashed milling about in the wheel of the station or even the foolish aristocrats in the spires. Nobody would overclock the sense input on anything this mundane and utilitarian.

\tThen again none of them knew just what she knew about Lady Ilka. Gods if she really wanted she could sell sense bombs of the experience in the right circles. But she wouldn't. This was just for her. Just for Em.

\tWhen the initial euphoria finally passed Emily reached up with a trembling paw to start undoing the small strip of material that went over her throat in the item. She undid the fastener and gripped the tiny seal tab below it. Slowly the tab unzipped her outfit down the left side of her body. Soft white chest fur exposed to the slight cool of the ambient room temp. Emily was quick to get the thing down and start wriggling herself free of the confining clothing. Slipping the sleeveless arm holes off of her with a shrug and worming her back until the out fit was finally able to fall and pool around her booted ankles. Emily blushed and shivered as she looked out from the pod feeling her body wonderfully exposed. Just picturing that gorgeous wolf standing at the other side. Regal, powerful, watching her.

\tFuck she was getting herself way too worked up.

\tSoon the boots were off and kicked to one side along with the jumpsuit. She stood there. Naked, trembling, wet, physically and mentally overwhelmed as the eagerness and anxiety twisted in her augmented little brain. The munk girl spent a few moments caressing herself teasingly. First her thighs, then her pelvis. Finally fingers starting to poke and prod her folds. She used her left arm, trembling a little as she did so. A thought switching the sensors off as she tried to nudge the appendage into an awkward position.

\t``Lady Ilka. Please. No'' She muttered to herself as her mind struggled to picture that beautiful woman toying and teasing with her own body. Not quite the cold unfeeling horror of the pods. But some wonderful prelude. Tears actually starting to form as she wriggled and writhed on her own fingers and tried to put her feet, her other hand, right where the cuffs would be.

\tThe smell of her fresh and overly hormonal young body was quick to hit her nostrils. An odd musky musty smell that only ever seemed really at place anymore when mixed with industrial lubricants, sweat and ozone. Her flat chest heaved in the scent greedily while chemicals and circuits in her head struggled to find balance with the idea of the horror she longed for. The hopeless dread the little munk longed to see on the faces of all those pathetic rubbery toys while blank empty faces hid the delicious nightmares within. You'd have to be crazy to subject someone to such a fate. Crazier to desire it. Emily let out a whimper and wriggled her hips longingly on her fingers as she tried to wring a few tears from her eyes.

\tA few small tweaks got her into a good rhythm. The arm moving and twitching on its own. Her hips struggling to escape before wriggling and hammering back down onto the rubbery furless digits which probed deeper with each little thrust. Em shut her eyes as she tried to push that familiar voice into her ears. Struggling to imagine the words as clearly as she could in her overclocked mind. ``P-please don't hurt me, My lady.'' Emily muttered the plea like a prayer ``I can get you others. Make them suffer. Make them cry for you. Please.'' She swallowed hard and  curled her fingers hard into her folds. Rough and uncaring for her own pleasure which only served to spike her pleasure further.

\tThe mechanical precision let her edge so wonderfully. It would be easy to push herself over. It would be easy to cum if she really wanted. But her lady wouldn't let her. She was sure of it. Lady Ilka would make her suffer. Would make her struggle. She was nothing to Lady Ilka. Nothing to such a strong powerful creature. They all were. There to be tortured. Used. Twisted. Consumed by the twisted beautiful princess. Emily was sure her heart could beat out of her chest if she kept up. All she could do was let herself hang on that edge of arousal and drown in her own little fantasies.

\tSo lost in her daydreams was the little munk that she failed to notice the sudden snap of a hatch. The clothing that had pooled up at the bottom of her pod yanked away quickly by one of the arms. Emily arched on her tiptoes and let the warm sensation of her own fluids bathe her aching thigh muscles as she held the awkward position she'd chosen. For just a moment her hyper-aware mind escaped into the blissful fantasy of her Lady taking her. Claiming her. Making her something special.

\tThe bliss went on just long enough to addle her mind. As Emily looked out though the medical pod glass she was sure she could see it hazing with the result of her heat and sweat. At least until the door went totally opaque Suddenly shifting to a deep rich black with bright red warning signs flashing in reverse before her eyes. The magnetic locks on the door slammed shut firmly The telltale hiss of a quarantine seal clicking in afterwards.

\t``What the hell?'' she blinked and winced. Her first instinct to lean up and push on the pod. Not that she could get much leverage. ``H-hey! What the hell just happened? Hello? Anyone out there?'' she yelped. The munk quickly felt a nervousness growing in her chest. She tried to pull her enhanced arm away from its current task. Wincing a bit as it refused to budge. ``Oh fuck'' she spat. She reached down and tried to push the arm away now. Her left shoulder slumping and biological arm gripping and wrenching hard at the smooth fiber-patterned composite of her forearm. The only response was the vastly superior prosthetic pushing the fingers in a bit harder, a bit deeper. Sensory input not only turned on but up. Allowing her to feel the now painful probing of the slick membrane with horrific clarity.

\tEven as her arm seemed to protest being removed from its designated task, Emily could faintly hear the sounds of something grinding along though the small medical bay. She felt her pod shake, rumble. Her mind quickly leaping from the now painful three-digit probing as she tried to split her attention to hacking into the pod itself. The attempt failed almost instantly as the ports all seemed to have been forcibly burned out. She shut her eyes tighter and tried to slowly probe around for a transmission node nearby. Her honey-brown eyes welling with tears as the sharp sensation of her own hand roughly poking and digging into the soft velvety flesh of her insides almost doubled the poor girl over in pleasure pain.

\tThen, things started to move. The inertial was slow but deliberate. The frantic mental probing to feel the antenna in her wetware tingle with an external signal simply didn't come. It slowly started of dawn on her that the ever present array of nodes and uplinks within the public information grid, hell the grid itself, was cut off from her. The quarantine system. The locks. All of the computational hardware of her head was trapped within a powerful faraday cage. The pod sealing her off from the outside world even as the pod began to move.

\t``Hey! Someone is in here!'' Emily shouted as she tried to bang on the door. ``Do you hear me? Stupid machine someone is in the pod! It's not broken. Let me out! Gah!'' she screamed once more and started to tremble. The rough feel of the artificial material grinding against her conflicting with the relentless and unfiltered sensation of her own wet nethers made it hard to think. What little focus she had straining to keep hold of herself and formulate a plan.

\tThe cub tried to bang on the glass first. Throwing her right arm in hard swings at the durable opaque ceramic. Each blow landed with a soft tink as her furry little fist struggled to get leverage with her leaned-back position and the shrinking weakness of her constant near orgasm.

\tFor all of her wants and desires, all of her little fantasies, this was the first time Emily had felt real terror. Alone and trembling she struggled and screamed while the pod moved along its intended path. At first she had suspected some kind of prank. One of the other washouts had caught her, was dragging her before the others. Had somehow hacked her arm when she was sleeping. After the first five minutes of movement the odds of that were all but nil. She continued to scream her shrill screams as her now rubbery leg lifted up and kicked hard at the door. Each blow delivering a bit more power. But only just. Enough to send a shock back though her as the solid seal and thick material kept her trapped in place.

\tShe only managed a few kicks before the shift to her body position caused fresh pain and pleasure to surge though the poor munk. The fingers somehow picking up speed and vigor while not allowing her over the edge. Emily collapsed down against the foot rest in a heap and started to sob and moan and cough her screamed out little throat sore. Unable to do anything but helplessly speculate at her fate and ride the agonizing edge of bliss her traitor limb pressed upon her.

\tBy the time she'd gotten her head settled once more there was no possible way for Emily to use the movements to judge where she was. She'd moved too far and had no downloaded map of the station to guess. Not that it mattered. For all she knew she could be hauled off to one of the cargo pods. Some bitch teacher or worthless student finally deciding to get rid of her once and for all.

\tIt was agonizing hours by the time the pod stopped. She was so hazy it was almost impossible to tell. A hard thud slamming her down on the heavy floor as the warning lights finally flashed out. Emily cast her tear-filled eyes up. Dark pixie cut falling back out of her tear stained face and red shot eyes. A moment later the dark black ceramic view glass finally turned clear again. A face gazed back at her with childlike bemusement. Long slightly matted blonde hair. A sharp regale muzzle. The slender, almost emaciated figure stood over her looking in with an all too familiar sadistic grin.

\t``Well now.'' The woman said as she licked her lips slowly. ``And here I was worried I would be bored today.''

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