30 comments/ 68396 views/ 84 favorites Becoming Marie.... By: HandsInTheDark "Awaken." I did, very suddenly. That first moment was strange, even eerie. Everything felt otherworldly, unfamiliar -- I don't have words to describe this. The very act of thinking felt alien, as if I was somehow out of practice. It was so striking that I shivered violently, despite the warmth. It was dark. I couldn't see anything at all, and by reflex I moved my hand in front of my face -- except my hand didn't move. I was bound, on my back, with my hands up over my head. I'd been drugged, I realized. And I heard movement -- someone was in the room with me. I screamed. "Hello," the voice said. Male, deep. "Let me go! Who are you? How dare you! Untie me!" "You're not in a position to make demands, Marie, so do not." he said, and I heard him moving towards me. "My name's not Marie! You've got the wrong girl! Let me GO!" "I have the right girl. Let me repeat, for the last time, that you are not in a position to make demands," he said, and he was right next to me now. I tried to aim a kick, but my ankles were also bound. I was completely helpless. "S-stay away from me!" He sighed. "Let me be very clear. I told you not to make demands. You continue to. So I'm going to punish you. Learn from this." There was a snapping sound next to my ear, and then the world turned white and horrible. Electrical shocks slammed though me, and I arched against my bonds, screaming in helpless agony - and then unable to breathe at all. A snapping sound, and it stopped. "That was setting one," he said. "There are ten settings. That's the last time you'll feel the first setting. You're a bright woman and I don't think I have to explain myself further." He moved away. I whimpered, softly, in terror. There were some tapping sounds, and then he spoke again. "You have many questions, and there's a lot that needs to be explained to you. You've got two choices -- I can give it to you a little at a time, in easy steps, slowly. Or I can give you the broad overview right now, all at once. You won't like what you hear, either way." I was on my back on some kind of bed, but my wrists and ankles were in tight rings that didn't budge an inch when I strained against them. I was naked, utterly helpless, and terrified. "All at once," I said, unsteadily. "Very well. You've been kidnapped. For reasons that will eventually become clear to you, there is no hope of rescue or escape. To oversimplify things a bit, you are my possession now, a slave. You are somewhere you've never heard of, and the only law here is my word, as far as you are concerned. You've been... changed, in ways which are too complicated to get into now, but they will be clear to you in time. There's nothing you can do about any of this, though I know very well you'll try to defy me. You will regret it. You'll find me pleasant enough if you follow my rules; you'll find me horrible, beyond anything you've imagined, when you disobey me. Everything is exactly that simple; I'm not exaggerating or talking in metaphors. And now you know as much as you can know, right now." "I'm not Marie," I said. "This is some kind of mistake!" "Are you not? Can you tell me what your name is?" "I'm --" And I lie there with nothing else coming out of my mouth. My name wasn't Marie, but I had no idea what it was. I was twenty three. I was a model in Brazil, based San Paulo, but I'd done shows in Italy, America and Japan. Brazilian mother, American father, both dead. I was fluent in two languages and travelled for fun. I was instantly recognizable by many hundreds of people, with thousands more on the internet. Why didn't I know my name? "Exactly so," he said. "Your name is Marie, because that is the name I have given you. You don't have any other name." "Please," I whispered in utter terror. "Please, let me go. Please." "Never happening." I heard him walk over to me, and settle on the bed next to me. I shuddered. He chuckled. "What happens next is perhaps the worst of all," he said. "I'm going to touch you. You're going to feel things you don't expect and have never imagined, and afterwards you'll be horrified at yourself. That can't be helped. You will not scream, or curse, or do anything to displease me. I'll go straight to the higher settings if I see any reason to. Lick your lips, slowly, now." "No," I shrieked. "No! Go away! Please no, please-" "Three," he said. Again the snapping sound, and I entered hell. When it was over, I was sweat streaked, sobbing and twitching and unable to speak, barely able to breathe. And then he laid his hand on my belly. My nipples had been hard since I'd woken up. I'd refused to think about it, and been thankful for the darkness that hid my body from his eyes. But now, suddenly, they ached. His large, warm hand traced my belly, firmly, and my body responded. "Lick your lips," he snapped, and I did, whimpering. I hated this man, but my body responded anyway. It was the terror, I decided. It had screwed me up somehow and- And then his hand traced the side of my breast, and a fingertip lightly, slowly pressed against my nipple. Somehow, he could see me, I realized. I didn't understand how, but it didn't matter. As his fingertip toyed with my nipple, my belly tightened, and I gasped. Arousal, unmistakable and intense and uncontrollable, slammed through me. "How?" I whispered. "Part of it is your helplessness. The rest... you'll understand better in time," he said. And then his fingers settled around the nipple, and he squeezed down, gently... fireworks. I was suddenly panting, as if it'd been an hour of hot foreplay. He stretched out next to me, and fisted my hair with his other hand, keeping my face to the invisible ceiling. His lips moved against my ear, whispering "You are going to burn as you never remember burning before, but you must not come until I tell you to. I would be very angry." He pulled up on the nipple, and I arched as far as I could in my bounds. His hand went to the other nipple, and my panting turned to ragged moaning. It took guys all night to make me this hot, and he had me in seconds, with one hand. Hating him didn't matter. I shook, arched, fists clenching, toes curling, and deeply ashamed of my reactions. "Hold that pose." And then he shifted and his mouth was around my nipple, my aching, throbbing nipple, and his teeth held it, tiny pinpricks of flickering pain, and his tongue lashed... And as my body shuddered in raw hunger to every rough movement of his tongue, his hand slid down over my belly. I tried to close my legs, but I could not stop what he did. He toyed with my body's responses, teasing them from an ache to a rage of need. And then he slid two massive fingers into me, and I clenched down, crying out. "You're very wet. Very... hungry. But not yet," he whispered, working me mercilessly. "I know what you want. Not yet." He violated me with his fingers, a ruthless, fast, curling movement, and each thrust slammed me closer and closer to an orgasm I didn't understand, and desperately tried to hold off. My helplessness and terror mingled with shame and animal need, and he bit down again... "Please," I sobbed. "Let me! Please!" He didn't answer. One hand in my hair, another thrusting into me and massaging my clit, the nipple sucked roughly into his burning mouth. I was going to come. I couldn't help it. I slid into- "Kiss me," he snarled suddenly, his lips against my mouth. I sobbed in shame and kissed him, many times, and then he whispered come, and- I had never felt anything that intense. He made me kiss him over and over, frantically, between my helpless orgasms, and each one was slow and violent and deep, so very deep; and then he fingered me faster, and held my lower lip in his teeth, and I went somewhere I'd never been- When he let it end, his kissed my forehead and moved away. I sobbed, filled with loathing. "You rest, now." He said. "That will be your last orgasm for awhile. I know you feel shattered and repulsed, but it will pass. Sleep well." "Untie me," I sobbed. "No," he said, and walked away. I heard a door, and then a humming sound, and I slid suddenly into sleep. *** I woke, shaking. I didn't get to pretend it was all a dream, because I woke in my bonds, and very sore. There was light in the room now. It looked something like an ordinary bedroom, what I could see of it. I'd never seen it before. How had I gotten here? I tried to think back... the last thing I remembered was a party. It had been a pretty wicked party, lots of handling and carousing, very sexual... I hadn't been very comfortable. I'd gone because if you want to move up in the modeling ranks for bikini and lingerie there are just some things you have to do, especially in Brazil. My agent, and girlfriends, would have checked up on me that morning. By now the police had been notified. He'd raped me with his fingers. Not his cock. I supposed I was thankful, but... he'd called me his slave, and he'd clearly meant it. Worse was coming, I knew. From his hands and his touch I had no trouble imagining him as very strong -- he'd take what he wanted, without hesitation. I had to get away. I started crying, suddenly. He'd made me come, and that was humiliating and horrible. He'd made me kiss him. I'd kissed him because I'd wanted to come and that had been the only way he'd let me. Let me. I didn't understand. I'd never been a slut and I'd always been in control of my own sexuality. He'd somehow just brushed all that away, and that was shattering. And now I couldn't stop crying. Suddenly there was a click, and the manacles at my wrist and ankles snapped open, then sank into the bed. I leapt out of bed in one bound, then cried out in pain because I was so very sore. The repeated, violent orgasms in those bonds had torn me up pretty good inside. I looked myself over. No bruises. There were iron rings, like thick bracelets, on my wrists. They didn't slide off. My ankles had a set as well. There were three doors out of this room. I headed straight for them, in turn. One was locked, one opened into a bathroom and one opened into a walk-in closet, which was empty except for an especially slutty-looking set of red, high heeled shoes. No windows. I was trapped in here. The furniture was all bolted to the floor, and there were no lamps, no power cords... nothing I could make into a weapon. My movement felt strange and awkward. Cursing, I walked over to the full-length mirror I'd been carefully avoiding. "Hello, 'Marie'", I told my reflection -- and then gasped a little. It was me, but... better. My hair was blonder, thicker, richer. My waist was smaller, my breasts seemed bigger. Perfectly toned muscle. My eyes seemed wider set and my lips were fuller. I'd seen the results of cosmetic surgery before... if I'd been "done", it had been by an expert. But that wasn't possible... it took weeks to recover from that kind of work. The worst was... my body was so obviously aroused. There was color in my cheeks. The nipples were hard. They'd always been large and when they were hard, it was very obvious. They were huge now. I snarled and went to the bed, pulling the sheet off of it and wrapping myself in it. They wouldn't get me to walk around naked. I went back to the mirror, trying to adjust the cloth. If anything, that was worse. The cloth was sheer and somehow slippery, and there wasn't much of it. Tying it around me just emphasized my nipples, and knots didn't hold well. But it was still better than naked -- though the movement of the cloth over my nipples was maddening. Wait -- I could twist the cloth into a kind of rope, and choke him when he came back. I pulled it off and rolled it into a cord, and then pulled it against my knee. It shredded instantly. It was uselessly fragile, more like tissue paper than cloth. Cursing, I wrapped the pieces around myself. One piece just shredded further, so the other went around my hips. An image came to my mind. A hand, reaching for me, grasping the cloth, tearing it from my body. Another hand, tangling in my hair- I shuddered, and went to the bathroom, to look for anything I could use. The bathroom was utilitarian and reminded me of a hospital facility -- everything was rounded metal or smooth tile or brushed concrete. There was no shower curtain, or place for one, and the toilet was a single molded piece of metal. Nothing that could be made into a weapon. My captor had thought of everything, it seemed. I went and sat on the bed. Why was I so aroused? It wasn't going away. I wasn't like this, normally. I'd always been the ice queen among my friends. Was I drugged? It had to be something like that. The way I'd come when he touched me- I shuddered again. Thinking about that was horrifying. And to my shock, I found myself licking my lips and wondering if he'd liked what he saw, as I'd thrashed on the bed- "Fuckdamnit!" I screamed. "Good morning to you also," said his voice. I leapt off the bed, tripped, and fell to the floor. I got up instantly, gathering the now-utterly useless cloth around myself, and stared around. He wasn't here. That meant a camera, microphone and speakers. "Go fuck yourself," I screamed. "Come in here and I'll gouge your eyes out. You fucking bastard! You can't do this!" "I can do anything I like," he said. "As you'll find out shortly. Now take that absurd sheet off and put the shoes on." "Come make me! There's no clamps on my wrists, you can't shock me now, I'll rip your face to shreds if you come in here-" "Four," he said, sharply. There was a snapping noise. I collapsed, screaming in agony, and flailed on the floor as wave after wave of searing electricity slammed through me. And then I couldn't breathe and I couldn't think, and I wet myself all over the sheet as I tried to scream, over and over, and couldn't. It stopped, and then started again. "You will be obedient," he said. "I'm coming in. You will do everything I say." The door opened, and the shocks stopped. I curled into a ball on the floor and wept, panting in fear and not daring to look at him. "I don't expect you to be happy with your new circumstances, Marie. Not yet, perhaps not for some time. But you will be obedient. I can do much worse than shock you. Your life here can be tolerable, or hideous in ways you still can't imagine. That choice is mostly yours. If you choose poorly, eventually I'll tire of you, and that outcome is not good for you. Accept that! If it helps, none of it is your fault. You didn't do anything to deserve this and there's no precaution you could have taken to avoid it. I wanted you and I took you, and everything that has happened, or will happen to you, is because of my wishes. It's that simple." "Why?" I sobbed. "I told you. I want you. And so I took you. There's no deeper answer. Let's move to a more important topic -- your behavior. Feel free to hate me, but you will be respectful and obedient. No more name calling. No more threats. You are a slave and you will act like one." "I don't know how," I said. I sounded like a sulky child. "You do know how," he said. "You've lived as one for three years. Going to parties you didn't want to go to, because people told you to. Posing and dressing however you were told. Maintaining your weight to meet the demands of another. You hated it, and took it out on the few men you had in your life, toying with their emotions and taking their gifts, while despising them. You had a bad attitude in your former life, but you were clever, and hid it very well. The same will work here -- for the moment. So listen to me carefully, because I am done repeating commands to you. You will take off that cloth, go into the closet, and put the shoes on. Then you will come and stand before me. Do it now." And I did. The anger in his voice was terrifying. Without looking at him, I rose to my feet, letting the shredded, ruined cloth fall away. I went to the closet, put on the slut shoes, and walked out. I stood in front of him, in a modeling pose, with my eyes to the floor. I could feel his eyes beating on me. He waited. With an angry sigh, I gave in and looked at him, starting at the feet and working up slowly. I wanted him to be ugly and old. It would have made everything easier. He was barefoot and tan, and he had powerful legs, bare to his cutoff jeans shorts. My eyes stopped there, because he had a package in those shorts that would have made any woman pause. If that was all him in there, he was huge, nearly pushing up out of the waistband. I tore my eyes away after a long and suddenly embarrassing pause, and moved my eyes up the muscular, tight stomach and muscled chest. I hadn't been wrong about his hands -- they were large and long-fingered. I swallowed, and forced my eyes up into his face. He was gorgeous. I prided myself on only dating the best, and he had no trouble fitting into that category. 30's, maybe, with sandy hair and piercing blue-grey eyes, and a wicked, charming smile. I shivered. A handsome face can make a woman stupid. He could lower the average IQ of a continent with that smile. I snapped my eyes back down again. He chuckled, softly. "My name is John. When you refer to me among others -- you'll meet others eventually -- I'm simply Master, unless there's some reason why that's not clear, and then I am Master John. Let me set you some rules. You're mine. I decide if and when you eat, and how you look. That's going to be very simple in your case, since women here are naked unless given reason not to be. You will be a sex toy, satisfying my whims. You'll have other work as well, but that will come in time. You will not masturbate unless told to. Ever. The punishment for it is brutal. Now... I like to observe little rituals, and this is one that you need to experience. You will kneel, gracefully, and plant a soft, slow kiss on the top of my right foot. If it helps, I can shock you again first, at six, so you'll be able to believe, afterwards, that I forced you. But I would like to be finished with shocking you. You decide." I knelt down. I'd knelt in front of a man exactly once before, as part of a photo shoot for a perfume ad. It had been eerie and uncomfortable, because I'd found it crudely erotic and had to hide my response. Afterwards I'd sneered at the other model, did a mock curtsey, and walked away from him without a word. Even the times I'd gone down on guys, I'd made them lie on their backs. This was different. I was naked and couldn't hide anything. My body's impossible arousal was on full display. I knelt, shivering, and whispered "I will kiss your foot. But I can't be a slave. I will do the things you say but... I'm not a slave. It will always be an act." I kissed his foot, lingeringly, shaking. Arousal and loathing and fear and something horribly like awe washed inside me, and part of me wanted to cling to his foot and kiss it over and over, while another wanted to drive my fist up into his balls. I returned to kneeling, unable to do either. "I'm sure that little speech felt very brave and honest," he said. "But I didn't like it, and so you will be punished. We have many punishments here. Some are almost playful. This one... is not, but you will learn from it." His foot lifted, and caught me in the chest, pushing suddenly. I fell onto my back, and then he said a word I didn't quite hear -- and my body went completely limp, and my eyes closed. "Foolish Marie," he said. "You don't understand how very conquered you are. You're wondered about the constant state of sexual excitement, but you haven't worked out yet what it means, or what else has changed. I've spent a long time working on you... you were asleep for most of it, but I changed you. Because of those changes, your body is always ready for sex, and easily made very, very willing - and that can be used against you." Becoming Marie.... His hands traced my body. I was limp -- I couldn't move. I couldn't open my eyes. But I could feel. And his touch did things to me, like last night, but worse now because I knew I couldn't fight it. In seconds I was panting frantically, and I'd have begged if I could have spoken. "You have a bottomless capacity for sexual play -- if I let you, you could suck and fuck until you passed out. You also have a bottomless hunger for it. You can't turn it off, and every caress makes it worse. The only way to quiet it is an orgasm." My mind flooded with fantasies, some vile. In all of them, I submitted to his wants, and then came helplessly. The hunger in my belly grew into an insanity of need, and tears leaked from my eyes. He licked my mouth, slowly. My tears flowed faster. And against my lips, he whispered "But what if orgasm is denied to you?" His hands moved over me, and every touch made me hotter. His touch on my nipples was especially hot, and he clearly knew it. He took his time, and my stomach clenched over and over. His hands moved everywhere, and my helplessness somehow made it more intense. Hunger. Raw hunger. He lingered over his touches, until I thought I'd come from just his caresses, and my pussy clenched over and over on nothing. And then he shoved fingers up into me. I should have exploded uncontrollably, but I didn't. I wasn't permitted. I'd have given anything to cum, but I wasn'tallowed. He sucked my nipples ruthlessly as he fingered me. He kissed my mouth. He took my hand and pressed it against his shorts so I could feel the massive, hard cock, throbbing, and whispered "picture it raping your slutty, pretty, hungry body. Have you ever been fucked so ruthlessly you couldn't walk afterwards? That's what's coming for you -- when you've learned to ask for it." Images, brutal, pornographic, humiliating, and above all hot... sensations I couldn't take in -- I crashed over and over into the place where I should have had release, but it was only more and more need. I couldn't think, I couldn't fight, and the terrified little girl that lives deep in every woman plead with me to make him like me, to give him what he wanted, sex, obedience, anything, because she couldn't stand his anger and disappointment another second. I wanted him to like me. I wanted his cock to rape me. I wanted to come, over and over -- but I mustn't - bad girl -- punishment -- can't come -- agony -- He bit down on the tip of my nipple. It should have been pain, but instead it was synesthesia -- I heard the smell of his skin, tasted the addictive sweetness of the movement of his fingers inside me. "Fucktoy", he whispered in my ear, over and over, in time with his fingers. I was going to pass out. I burned to please him and I was not allowed. I was abad girl. He stopped, and gathered me up, and lay me on the bed. It didn't stop the sensations. I was still shrieking inside, aching for release, for approval. "As further punishment," he said, "the shoes stay on until told otherwise. Masturbation, of course, is out of the question. And next time you see me, you will immediately kneel, kiss and lick my foot, and beg forgiveness for being displeasing." He shifted, and then I heard a humming. I knew the sound. It was a vibrator. He used it on me, lightly at first and then ruthlessly, and I discovered new ways to hunger and suffer. Suddenly, I broke, sobbing uncontrollably. I knew I'd never displease him again. Then he stopped, moved off, and said a word I couldn't quite hear. My body worked again and I curled into a ball, sobbing silently. He walked away. "Wait," I sobbed. "Please. Don't leave me like this. Please!" He didn't break stride. "Denial is part of the punishment, Marie." "I know," I said, choking on my tears. "Not that. I know. But I need to know why. Why did you take me? Whyme?" He stopped, at the door. I was curled into a ball, convulsing in a sexual hunger I'd never imagined, eyes sightless in shock and desire, but I knew he was looking back at me. "I've been watching you since you were twenty," he said. "I knew a great deal about you before I ever brought you here -- and I know everything now. I chose you for your beauty, your intelligence and your spirit. And not, perhaps, in that order. I know you think I'm trying to break your spirit, but I hope it does not come to that. I will be less interested in you if it does come to that. I desire you, that's all. I will make you perfect, and enjoy you endlessly." Then he was gone, and the door closed and clicked behind him. I sobbed for perhaps a half hour. The wracking desire didn't stop, but I could think again. I was thirsty. I was hungry, as well, but as a model I was used to that. He wouldn't stave me, I was certain. Food would come eventually. Water I could get for myself. I got off the bed, and wobbled to the mirror, looking at myself. I was a tearstained mess, with my hair everywhere. And that was his fault. The rest of me... my body was a living invitation to sex -- the nipples, my stance, everything. I burned, and it showed. It was shameful, and I tried to ease myself back into a more normal stance, but my body didn't listen. Shoulders back, chest out, head slightly down, lips pouty. I looked like one of my own ad campaigns, the kind I always imagined men jerking off over. I moved away from the mirror, not wanting to think about men's cocks right now. Walking was... a problem. It was the shoes. Five inch heels. They weren't uncomfortable as heels went, but they made me walk like a women in heels walks. I only wore heels on dates and in shoots -- in other words, when I wanted to be sexy. But it also worked in reverse -- wearing heels made me feel sexy. Every stride had me thinking about how I looked, how men would look at me. In my current state it was the last thing I needed, and I suddenly understood why he'd said the shoes were part of the punishment. I suddenly pictured myself in these heels, bent over at the waist, hands on the bed -- in the manacles, oh fuck yes -- and him coming up behind me, hard, impatient- I shuddered and sat down on the bed. No books, no TV, nothing but me and my suddenly wicked imagination, and a rule against masturbating. Drugs? Hypnosis? He'd turned me off and on like a light. How had he done that to me? And if he could just make me limp and use my body whenever he liked, why bother with anything else? He'dchosenme. It had never, ever occurred to me that any man would have that choice. I did the choosing. I had boyfriends, or didn't, and decided when it ended, except for the couple of jerks who hadn't liked my teasing and bailed on me after a week. I always chose -- except now, I'd been chosen, and I wasn't going to be allowed to walk away. Game over; I'd lost. I could just disobey until he got tired of me. But the scared little girl inside me shrieked in fear, and I knew she was right. I couldn't face his anger. He was ruthless, and it was obvious he meant every word he said. If I gave him trouble, he'd hurt me, break me and then get bored, and I didn't know what happened after that, but I was certain I'd never be allowed to go back to my old life. My old life. What was my new life? What was this place? Where was I? I cursed, needing to masturbate. My legs were tightening against each other, over and over. I got off the bed to stop them. A cold shower -- yes. It would ruin the shoes, but so what - they weren't my shoes. I didn't have to smell like wet pussy and piss. I swayed into the bathroom, and tried the controls to the shower. They didn't move, and I just shook my head. I wasn'tallowedto have a shower now. Where was I? This place had been built specially for making me, or more likely just girls like me, a prisoner. Had other girls been in here? Did Master John have other girls? I sighed. Of course he did. With that smile, that physique and that cock, he'd have as many as he liked. And why would I care, anyway? He was a rapist and a kidnapper. Not my type. I drank water at the sink -- there was no cup, and I had to use my hands. Even the touch of my hands against my lips was strangely erotic. My imagination leapt to his kiss, and then the image of being bent over the bed, hands trapped, on tiptoe, and his cock throbbing against me, opening me, demanding me, and then his hand in my hair, and my body, my helpless, wet, traitor body, coming for him, milking him, listening to his snarl of pleasure as he pushed into me again, and again, and again- I stalked out of the bathroom, found the remains of my sheet, and shredded it finely. I was a slave. They wasn't legal anywhere in the world, was it? How could I be a slave? How could he hide me? And how dare he? Another image -- a collar on my neck, and a leash, and he made me dance naked for other men -- they were allowed to touch me, but not penetrate me -- and then he pulled me into his lap and made we watch, as the men took other women, forcing cocks into their terrified bodies -- and then my master turning me in his lap and pushing his cock into me, forcing me to kiss him over and over as I rocked for him, forcing me to listen as the women behind me were raped to orgasm, my body responding to their violations uncontrollably- Or, he pulled on the leash and I fell to my knees; another pull and my mouth was against his cock, and I had to lick it hard and then suck it, and I had to swallow, and swallow, and swallow- I screamed. I was a filthy slut with a vile imagination now. Fuck, I couldn't get the picture of the way his cock had filled his shorts out of my head. He'd held my hand against it, and despite myself I smelled my hand, and shivered. He'd make me work his cock with my hands, and when he spurted, he'd make me crawl on the floor to it and lick it up- I wept, clenching inside. I couldn't stop the fantasies. I knew, somehow, what was happening -- I was in shock, and trying to "adapt". Something deep inside me had accepted that I was a slave, and now my imagination was training me to accept the role. You can please him, the voice inside me said. You are pretty and he wants you. Give him want he wants and he'll be nice to you. And then that cock will hammer into you and you'll come and come and come- He could keep me in here for hours, and my imagination would torment me and if I masturbated, he'd know and he'd- "Please!" I shrieked. "Are you listening? Please! Let me kneel at your feet again. Let me get it over with. I'll do it right. I'll be --" my voice broke -- "I'll be what you ask. I'll learn how. I don't understand anything and I'm so scared and I'm so needy and I'm terrified I'm masturbate and you'll do something worse to me, please have pity! Please, fuck please!" But there was no answer, and the erotic imaginings continued, intensifying. *** "How is she doing?" "She's on track. And very miserable." "Aren't they all, this early on?" "No. A very few find an element of romance in it. There was no hope she'd fall into that category, though." John passed William a sheet of numbers. William skimmed over them. "This doesn't look much like the data from class." "The data from class," John said, a bit heavily, "Is about as generic as it gets. The people we take don't tend to be... generic. But let's see what you've learned. Based on that, what are the main risks?" "Well... she'll fall in love with you. There's a risk of suicide. I see some Addison's in this, and some Meyeroff." John nodded. "You've got the gist of it. Suicide risk is mitigated by that V7 value, and C23. She's tough, or she wouldn't be here. The Addison will fade in time. The Meyeroff... let's face it, we call it a risk but it's not like it's not manageable. Some Masters would try to counter it. I'm not going to." "So at this stage... does she know she's falling in love?" "At this stage," John said, "she doesn't know anything. She's discovering entire swaths of her personality that she had no idea existed. She's in a lot of denial, and avoiding certain thoughts like the plague. If she had the strength of will to really dig down deeply into herself, she'd realize it was a possibility. But that's the last place she'll dig right now. It's all very surface for her, at the moment." John glanced at a screen. "She's not masturbating." "She won't. They almost never do. She loses either way, and she knows that. If she gives in, she admits she's a slut who needs her fix. If she doesn't, she admits she's obedient to my demands. Obedience is easier for her to swallow -- she can blame the torture. I'll hit her with the videos in a few minutes -- if she makes it though that, she'll get her first meal and then she's going to suck me off." "Hm. Part of the conditioning?" "No. I just like her mouth." *** I was shaking and sobbing softly, trying to control my hands. I knew this was a trap. If I got myself off, I was the slut he'd turned me into to, and not the woman I'd always been. If I didn't, I was an obedient slave. I hated what he was doing to me but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me get myself off. It was better for him to think I was obedient, anyway. The room went dark, and I sat bolt upright, not knowing what to expect. And then the room lit again, but it was from the walls. They were all glowing, and so was the ceiling. And then images and videos appeared on them. All of them were men touching women, seducing or demanding things of then. I closed my eyes instantly, cursing, but even in that one second the images had filled my mind. And one of the videos had been a recording of John fingering my bound body, and the way I'd reacted... "No!" I shrieked. The sounds tracks for the videos started, all of them at once, women whimpering or moaning, men demanding or snarling. I stuffed my hands to my ears and cursed a blue streak, but I still heard things, and I burned to open my eyes. My body beat itself against the mattress in frustration. It was torture. I was being driven insane. I didn't know sexual appetite could do this. What had he done to me? Helplessly, I opened my eyes and watched Master fingering me, and the way I'd come, and come, and come. Other videos showed other women, all young and beautiful, likewise driven to orgasm, or sometimes pleading for it as they were used, rough and fast. I shrieked again and bit my lips to stop myself from pleading, locked my fingers in my hair to prevent them from touching any part of me. Even the movement of writhing on the bed was bringing me close to coming, and desperately I got off the bed and stood, surrounded by hot women being given what I wanted more than anything on earth. My body swayed obscenely, invitingly, and wetness trickled down my leg. I cried out. The videos stopped; the lights came on, and Master John walked in. I didn't hesitate. I ran to him, fell at his feet, and kissed and licked his feet with a shameless abandon. I needed to beused. "Please, I'm sorry!" He reached down, and dragged me by the hair until my face was against his shorts. His open shorts. He forced his cock to my mouth, and wailing, I took him in until I choked. He was huge, and as hard as stone. He worked me ruthlessly, and began grunting and gasping. But just before he came he pushed me away, rubbed himself roughly, and splattered on the bed, over and over. "Smell it, but don't touch it," he snapped. Whimpering in fear and need, I crawled over to the bed, and as I bent over the bed, he fingered me from behind. "PLEASE! PLEASE I MUST COME! IT HURTS SO MUCH!" "No." he snapped. In the end my legs buckled, and I fell, nerveless, to the floor. "What are you?" He growled, sitting on the bed, over me. "Your slave," I whispered. "I can't fight this. You win. Tell me what you want me to be and I'll become it. But please, please, no m-more torture. I'm s-so scared of you! You rip me to shreds!" He reached down, took my chin in his massive hand, and turned my face up to his. "You're right. You cannot win. This was never a contest, Marie. I didn't give you any choice about any of this, and I never will. Now climb up into my lap." I did, very unsteadily, curling against him without thinking about it. My eyes closed. His cock was already stiff again, under me. It wasn't possible. And I ached for it. I tried not to squirm too much. I tried not to think. "Hurts," I whispered. "I didn't know desire could hurt like this. Please be kind." He stroked my hair, and kissed my forehead. "You can't come yet, sweet Marie. I know it hurts. But this is part of your training. You will not get my cock where you want it, until what you want most of all is to please me. You won't come until your orgasm is something you give to me as a gift, something you do for me. And none of that is as far off as you think." He turned my face up again, and kissed me mouth, slowly and gently, over and over. I cried again, clinging to him. This was worse than the sexual tortures, because I wanted his kisses, his approval and kindness. I'd hate myself later. Right now, the little scared girl was using her all grown-up body to cling and kiss and please. "Good girl," he said softly, against my lips. "Don't stop kissing. The aching is not as bad when you can kiss me." And he was right. I kissed him warmly, sensually, pressed against him. His cock nuzzled upwards, and I whimpered. "Please? Please... I'll be good." "Soon," he whispered. "Soon, if you're obedient." He cupped my breast, and I moaned, snuggling against him. The ache was so intense, but he wasn't angry now. And that made it ok. I kissed him, over and over. "Good girl," he repeated. "Now I have to leave. You'll get to eat shortly, and then you will sleep. Tomorrow, things will be different. The hard part doesn't last much longer." I shivered against him and nodded. "I know. I know what you're doing, you know. And it's working. I'll be a good girl, I promise." "You'll be so much more than that," he smiled. He kissed my mouth, gently, and lifted me and left me on the bed. And then he walked out, and the door clicked behind him. I lay on the bed for perhaps a half hour. Slowly, the feeling of infantilism faded, and then I shuddered in horror. "How did he do that... oh fuck, another minute and I'd have stuck my finger in my mouth and asked for candy. Oh fuck. Ohfuck. He's... what is he doing to me? How does it end?" I shivered, the terror fully returned. My pussy was clenching, over and over, on nothing. I moved away from the dried cum on the bed. The smell did things to me. *** There was a soft chime, and a soft sliding noise. I sat up, shivering, and looked around. I didn't see anything, so I walked -- sluttily, in heels, because he hadn't said I could take them off -- and searched the apartment. By the end table near the bed, a panel of wall had slid, revealing -- I stopped and stared. Almost two feet off the ground, was a huge phallus and balls, mounted on a slab of concrete, like a trophy. A few feet into the room from it, the floor was glowing dimly in two small spots, right next to each other. "Time to eat," said a voice as I approached it. It wasn't his voice; it was a generic male voice of the sort used in recordings. He had to be kidding. I knelt down and touched it. It was warm and looked eerily real, and it moved when I touched it, stiffening slightly. My pussy clenched. "Master," I said to the air, "please tell me you are kidding." No response. I rubbed it, hoping it would squirt food in into my cupped hand. It stiffened obscenely, but it didn't "come." Sighing, I put my mouth to it, and gave a tentative suck. Nothing. "You can do better than that, Marie," said a familiar voice. I twitched, clenching inside. "This isobscene," I said to the air. "Perhaps," he said. "But it teaches the necessary lessons. It's modeled after me, as you probably guessed. Get it working. If you try to refuse to eat, I have to force you, and neither of us wishes that." Becoming Marie.... "It's not working," I said. "You'll figure it out," he said, and there was the faint click. Conversation over. "Unbelievable," I said aloud. "So many insulting and degrading lessons, in one neat package. I'll have to bend over and worship your manhood to get my sustenance. After I've fed, I'll feel the contentment that comes from a full belly, which I'll come to subconsciously associate with sucking males. And then, of course... I'm certain it won't actually feed me until I do agood job. Oh- and swallow, not spit. This really is a new low in male/female relations, Master." I didn't know why I was suddenly being wry and witty. I crouched down and give it a little sucking. Nothing. Oh, come on... guys who actually got me to suck them never complained. What did it want? I looked at the two small, glowing spots on the floor. I stood on them, but there was no way I could keep my feet there, and still reach it to suck. I put my knees on them, but I was too far away. I puzzled over this. I knelt and put my ankles over them, and on a guess, pointed my toes so my slave rings pressed against the lit spots. There was a click. I nodded grimly. I had to keep my legs together, my toes pointed, kneel to his cock and bend way over, to suck. Anyone coming up behind me would find me very conveniently positioned. It was as sexually submissive a pose as I could imagine. I sucked. My imagination went exactly where I knew it would -- I saw myself sucking one man while other took me from behind. Sucking on a fake cock with that image pounding in my head would have gotten me moaning, even in the old days. Now, it was so hot and wrong that I could feel myself dripping. I was tempted to just turn around and bury it in me, but I had a very good idea what Master would say about that. It took a few minutes of sucking before I was rewarded with a warm rush of something sweet and cinnimony, and I swallowed and swallowed and swallowed. And then the cock went limp and the panel closed, almost catching my nose. I curled on the floor in a heap, shivering in need. If I just touched my clit now, even one finger moving slightly, I'd come. Hard, and over and over. My hands began to wander, and I whimpered, making fists to stop them. My master taking me from behind, forcing my mouth over another man's cock, my hair in his fist, cum gushing into me from both; I was a good girl, and loved male cum... "No more," I whimpered. "I have to masturbate. I have to. He'll shock me but I'll get to come. I used to masturbate every night. He'll be angry -- maybe he'll fuck me to punish me. Fucked by an angry man. Oh fuck, fuck, I have to come. I can't take it!" I curled back into that sexy pose -- ankles together, ass up, face to the floor. I cupped my breast, and jolts of pleasure and heat shot through me. Oh fuck yes. I pinched down, slowly- "Marie, stop NOW," his voice thundered into the room. I screamed in shock, crashing against the end table as I jerked upright. His anger caused instant, helpless terror. "I can't take anymore," I wailed. "I've never denied myself. It's hard! Please let me come, do whatever you want but let me have this, please!" "Get on the bed, now," he said, angrily. "On your back, position your wrists over your head. You'll feel a pulling on your wrists and ankles. Follow that pull. Move!" Whimpering, I obeyed. "Please fuck me, Please. I know the manacles will lock on me. I'll be helpless. Fuck me. You like me, my pretty body, I'm so wet, use me, take everything you want, oh fuck I'm going insane-" My ankles and wrists followed the pull of the bracelets, and then the restraints clamped around them. I squeezed my legs together as best I could, feeling the orgasm building even from that slight movement. But then there was a humming, and I was suddenly asleep. *** William looked over the numbers. "That didn't go so well." "No, it didn't," John said, as he pushed through his exercise regime for the morning. "I underestimated her attachment to masturbating. I knew she was a little slut for her own fingers, but I didn't estimate the impact of denial even close to right. We caught her at just about the last second." "Would you have shocked her?" "Of course -- but it would have set her back a week. It's a fine line, Will. They have to be addicted to pleasure, and shocking the hell out of a woman just as she's coming messes that up badly, at least for a girl like Marie. But they have to be able to deny themselves for hours or days at a time, without going to pieces. And no two women are ever alike; they all have a different fine line. Susan went through her training straight down the middle with never a problem. Marie's wandering all over the place. Without her fear of pain she'd be very hard to control." "Does she have any idea that the shocks are fake? Do any of them?" John paused to adjust some weights, and get his breath back. "They aren't fake. Don't think of them that way or you'll over-use them, and that doesn't lead to anything good. They feel the actual sensations just as much as they would for real voltage. The fact that only the first shock is real, literally changes nothing. It's one hundred percent a part of their reality. That said... Angelica figured it out after two weeks. But by then she was so in love that it didn't matter." "And what's next? Socialization?" John got up and stretched. "Yes. This is where she really collapses. She'll be surrounded by women who think differently than she does, who - deep down - all want to be here. Women are conformists, and the fact that they all buy in to this, will make her accept that she's the one who needs to change. Plus, I've told her nothing about her changes, and she'll find all that out from the girls. The shock of that makes adapting to the rest, easier." "But you miss the fun of telling her yourself," William said, grinning. John chuckled. "I only care about results, and this gets results. I'm going to have endless amounts of fun with her when she's settled in, believe me." *** Heat. Hardness. Sounds. I was somewhere new. I opened my eyes, slowly. Brightness. Blueness. Greenness. I was outside. I sat up, very confused. Had I been dreaming? Things came into focus, at different rates. I was naked. I still had iron rings on my ankles and wrists. I hadn't dreamed any of that. Shouting and giggling, not far away. I looked over. Men and women, playing volleyball. The women were naked, except for a thin harness around the breasts that I guessed was there to prevent them from bouncing . It was just thin straps, not very effective, and hid nothing. They were all stunningly beautiful, all about my age. The men were all wearing shorts, and nothing else. They all looked pretty good, with a wider spread of ages, but none were really old. And they all had that bulge in their shorts. I looked away, or I would have started staring. Where the hell was I? Only beautiful people were here, impossibly desirable people. Collect a thousand men and maybe one would have a package like that. Maybe. Any of the women could have done well in modeling. "She's awake," one of the women shrieked, and the game stopped suddenly. I was instantly surrounded by women; the guys just took over the court and continued tapping the ball back and forth. I was flooded with hellos and hiyas and names. I just looked around, kind of speechless. They all seemed happy. "Mercy, girls. Let the woman get a word in edgewise," a leggy redhead said. She was grinning, and also, it was very clear, checking me out. Oh great -- they were going to see me as competition? "Hi. I'm... Marie, I guess," I said. "You'll have to go a lot slower on the names." "Ginger," said the leggy red. "No Gilligan's Island comments, please. Welcome, Marie. No, don't get up. I'm guessing you've had a rough couple days." "Where the hellamI?" I blurted. "We call it the island," a stunning, busty brunette said. She had the cutest face imaginable, and I decided I liked her. "and I'm Amy. And that's as much as anyone knows. Any woman anyway. The island." "Then I need a boat," I said automatically. "But first, please, names... slowly." Elaine, Julie, Cindy, Kim, Tiffany, Annette, Crissy, Vela, Doll, Holly, Ophelia and Asswipe introduced themselves. Asswipe with a considerable blush. "Not my real name," she added. "But Master is not happy with me at the moment, so it's my name this week. It could be worse." "A boat for thirteen, then. Are there any other girls here?" "Gracious yes," said Ginger. "We're about three hundred all together, and a hundred men or so. But don't worry about that. There'll only be one on the boat." "You don't want to leave?" "It's not a matter of wanting or not wanting, sweetie. The boat thing doesn't work. But if you're asking just me, I'm not going anywhere, even if it did." "So you're not a slave?" They all giggled and chuckled. Ginger grinned. "If you're a woman on this island, you're a slave. And a slut." "But it'swrong," I exploded. "Slavery. It's wrong. They have no right! Do you all wantto be here?" "That's a... complicated question," Amy said. "Deep down we all know this place is wrong. But leaving is impossible and the men are... unimaginable. Right or wrong, we're not leaving. Some struggle with it more than others. I don't struggle at all -- I'm my master's girl down to my bones. They... do that to you, in the end. You'll see. You are Master John's?" She dipped her eyes as she asked the question. "He's vile," I whispered. "Shocks and rapes. Ihaveto get away." "Before or after you fall in love with him?" Ginger asked. "Because you do, we all do. They are all ruthless, and it turns out that that's what we love most. Daddy spanks, but you still love daddy." "That's not one of my fetishes," I said, coldly. "Mine either. But deep down, the principle applies to us all. You're new -- and if I know Master John" -- she dipped her eyes -- "there's a lot you haven't been told. Wait until you know more. You'll still be outraged, but..." "...outrage can be pretty hot," Vela finished, and they all cracked up. "How can they get away with this? There's no island where men can just do as they please. There's always laws!" "Slavery is legal in some places," Amy said. "But that's not what's going on here. There's no government at all -- just the men. No laws, just the men. They decide things. I know we're somewhere tropical, but no boats or planes ever show up and there's no maps. Just accept that we're somewhere the rules don't apply." "There's always laws, it's how men -- I meanpeople-- organize-" "Your master's coming," Ginger said, softly. I whirled. He was walking towards us from a small building on the edge of the clearing. "What do Ido," I whispered, frantically. "Whatever he's told you to do," Amy said. "If he hasn't said, just lower your eyes and wait. And please, sweetie, nothing to make his angry. When they get angry, we all..." "...feel it," Doll finished. "Any Master being angry, is the worst thing in the world, for all of us." They moved aside, so that none of them were between me and him. So much for sisterhood. He simply walked up to me, grasped my hair and kissed my mouth. There were quiet oooohs and ahhs from the girls. I was horrified and angry. What he did to me in my room was at least private. This was in public! "Kneel," he said. And to the girls: "Don't you have a game to finish?" They scattered like leaves in an early winter wind. I watched them fly away, as I knelt, shaking. When I turned back to him, his cock was out, and hard. I shuddered so violently I had to bend over and steady myself with my hands. "Not here!" I whispered. "Anywhere," he said, taking me by the hair and bringing me back into position. Somewhere I heard a thump and a startled "oww!" from one of the girls -- thwacked by a volleyball, I didn't doubt. Because she'd been watching me, I was certain. I begged the ground to swallow me up, but it didn't. "Kiss it and lick it," he said. "I c-can't-" "Does the command have to be repeated?" I shook in fear, and kissed his cock, and then, shivering, licked it. Raw lust exploded in me. My belly ached as the now familiar contractions slammed through me. I licked faster, frantically, kissed,adoredhis hard member. My hands were sliding on his legs, and suddenly I was whimpering... and then begging. "Soon," he chuckled, his cock throbbing against my lips. "I want you badly, can you tell? And you are almost ready." "Almost," I wailed. I slid my hand over his balls. My face was burning in shame. His chuckled turned evil, and that sent a shiver through me. "You beg prettily," he said, softly. "But I said soon, not now. So I will punish you, but only a very little. Don't move." Not his fingers, I begged myself. Not that agony of denied orgasm, here in public- It wasn't his fingers. He pressed his cock against my slit, not quite entering, and his hands were like steel pincers on my hips, so I could not thrust backwards against him- And then the world exploded. I shrieked, slamming my fists against the ground, thrashing. It wasn't an orgasm, it was sexual craving of a kind I'd never known... in that moment I'd have taken any man and served him with a sexual abandon that no one had ever seen. I hungered to give, and rational thought was shattered byneed. I raged against his hands -- his powerful, ruthless hands -- but could not do the one thing I'd ever wanted in life, to impale myself on that hard, brutal cock- He pushed me to the ground. "I will see you here, at sunset." And then he walked away. I thrashed, shrieking. Somewhere, far away, there was a word spoken, and then the girls were all around me again. Words poured. "Try to sit her up-" "Don't touch her torso-" "You think I don'tknow?" "Marie, try to breathe, we're here for you, sweetie-" "Fuck it's so hot, seeing that happen-" "Hush, you!" "Marie, it's Ginger. I know, baby. It will pass. Look at me, ok? We'll help you as much as we can, baby, we all know what it's like-" "His c-cock," I squealed. "What- how- I want. Want! Oh fuck I want so bad! I have to have cock!" "Hush now, baby. We know. It does something to us. Their precum in our slits -- it's like the cruelest aphrodisiac ever. The brain goes bye-bye. The only thing worse is their actual cum. No, look at me! No drifting off into inner space, you can't face your fantasies right now. Keep looking at me." "Can't," I wailed. "Hot. Must fuck. Must -- anything -- can't breathe-" "Screw this, I think I'll go fuck Master John," Amy said. I screeched in rage and turned on Amy, hands clawing at her, trying to tear her to shreds. They all had to scramble to hold me down. "Next time you play that card, Amy dear," Vela hissed. "Warn us first, kay?" "Fuck!" I whispered, twisting under their hands. "You didn't mean that?" "Sweetheart, I wouldloveto fuck Master John. But no, I didn't mean it. That jealousy reaction is the only thing we've found that gets a girl in your state to focus again. Stay with us now, ok? Because if you sink into your own thoughts, you'll be howling for it for an hour." "How -- how does he- oh fuck, fuck, I can'tthink-" "We don't know how. We know very little. We'll talk about it." One of the men walked nearby, not stopping. The bulge in his pants -- I shuddered and convulsed, and they had to hold me to stop from crawling after him. Doll grabbed my hair and pulled me around to face her. "No, baby. Worst thing you could do, right now-" It was probably a half hour before I could breathe and talk again, and even just sitting up made me come close to orgasm. "This isn't possible," I whispered. "Females don't slut out like this. We don't burn for no reason. We're wired to need affection, security, respect-" Doll snorted. "We're wired, as you call it, to need security. Affection and respect are just nice to have. C'mon, you've been wet for movie stars, and in your fantasies it didn't always have much to do with them being affectionate, or respecting your rights. You kind of hoped theywouldn't." "But that'sfantasy. When it came to the men I'd let near me, it was different!" "But thisisfantasy, sweetie. It's the world as men always wanted it to be. How they made their fantasies real, how they changed us like this, I have no clue. But they did. The way we think it's supposed to be, has nothing to do with anything anymore. Say goodbye to flowers and candy, and hello to manacles and cock craving." "Can wepleasenot mention cocks," I moaned, clutching my stomach. "It's like not mentioning food at a feast," Doll said. "But I know what you mean. Nice weather today, isn't it?" They all laughed. "Third bell coming up," Vela said. "Some of us have places we'll need to be. Who can stay with her?" Ginger and Amy volunteered, and the rest gave me goodbyes and well-wishes, and then scattered. "Up you get, beautiful," Ginger said. "What you need is a cup of tea." "That isnotwhat I need," I said ruefully, shivering and eyeing a distant male. "But tea is what you'll get. Come with us." *** We went through a doorway, and what was inside looked something like a coffeehouse, with tables and games. It was empty, except for the three of us. Ginger sat me down and Amy fetched tea, from behind a counter. "So," Ginger said. "I'm guessing Master John" -- she dipped her eyes -- "has told you next to nothing." "Well, you know how it is," I said, a little sarcastically. "I spend a lot of time in bondage, alone, and he has places to be." "Um," Ginger chuckled. "It's like that for all of us at the start, and no, no one likes it. So you have about a billion questions. Fire away. Just understand that there's plenty of stuff we just don't know." Amy slid a cup of something steaming and fruity-smelling next to me, and settled in. "Children," I said. "Men clearly fuck women here all the time, though John-" "MasterJohn," Amy said, dipping her eyes. "Don'tevershow anything like disrespect, even if you are just with us girls. They hear things, and you know they punish. There are worse things than sexual need and public embarrassment." "Noted," I said acidly. "But whileMasterhasn't done me yet, he clearly plans to do me a whole lot, and who knows how many others. So where are the babies?" "No babies," Amy said. "We're not fertile. Or they aren't. Or both, probably. Or something. No babies. No periods, either." I tried to let that sink in. "So they do surgery on all of us? No ovaries? No uterus?" "You're back in How territory," Ginger said. "And that's a place we don't go. There are many things they do that look like magic to us, and I'm guessing you don't even know about the big one yet. But we're pretty sure there's about six months between when we are kidnapped, and when we wake up and meet our Master. We don't know what all happens in that six months, but I'm certain it's surgery, hypnosis, drugs -- all that at the very least. So you know, I have medical training and do nursing here, and I can tell you that there's still something like a uterus in you -- but only something like one. The pregnancy rate is zero here, and you can't get that with drugs alone." "And they just -- do that. Make us infertile. Without asking." "Understand this, cousin," Amy said. "Men do things here, and never ask permission. They rule absolutely. They can stop us in our tracks with a snap of their fingers, a word, or a kiss. And they have zero shame about it. None. I know that hasn't sunk in yet. I know you're still thinking about rights, and what's ethical. All that'sgone. The men here have their own ethics, and they are nothing like what we'd call fair." "So they can beat us, rape us, kill us?" Ginger gave a crooked smile. "Yes. But... and this is where it gets bizarre... for a bunch of all-powerful sociopaths, they are strangely... well, gentle? I know how that sounds. But they don't hit. No punching. They don't have to. I don't fear my master's fist. I fear his disapproval, though, and I fear it hard. You'd think that this place would be run by the worst men ever born, with a knife in one hand and a whip in the other, and that they'd love to use them. But it's not like that. Maybe theyarethe worst men ever born, but... we're treated like toys and children, but favorite toys and wanted children... in their way they actually cherish us. Not as equals. Maybe men never thought of us as equals, deep down. But they do show restraint... while being utterly ruthless in imposing their will. It's a bizarre and... well, hypnotic combination." Becoming Marie.... "Restraint. Really. What's the worst thing they do to women, as punishment?" Ginger winced. "There's what we call the Three Bad Things," she said. "These only come out if youreallycross the line. The first is this little punishment ritual they have. They tie you up to this metal frame, take away your ability to speak -- they can do that anytime they want - and start touching you. Kissing, nipple sucks, neck licking, belly petting... whatever it is that makes you burn, and believe me, they know. When you're just about convulsing in need, they fix a vibrator against your clit, and slowly work some of their precum into your pussy. Drop by drop, and while still toying with your body. And you can't even scream. Then they masturbate a little, right in front of you. That's shattering --youwant to satisfy them, you want their cum, in spite of yourself, and watching them satisfy themselves.... Then they bring in a girl or two and make out with them, right in front of you. Eventually they get a little precum too, and they beg for sex, suck, lick... you're dying by then. Then he grabs one of them and puts her up against you, and fucks her senseless right on top of you. You can smell and hear and... there's just no words for it. It's total hell to see your master enjoy someone else when you're in that state. You listen to her cumming over and over and you want to die. When he's done fucking, he sends them away, and yells at you. You're completely little-girl'd by then, and you can't stand it. Then he frees you and walks away. When you find him again, you'll do anything to be forgiven and make up. Words don't express the emotions of it. It's just so horrible. "The second... take all that, but be left in the room, tied up, and they play those videos. You're in there for a day. When you slip into orgasm -- and you do, that kind of stimulation would make a dead woman come -- there's a horrible sound that kicks off some kind of terror reaction, and the orgasm doesn't happen. It goes on for hours. Finally he sends a girl to free you, and you have to spend the next day searching the island, to find him and apologize. You start at sunrise and have until next sunrise. No one can help you. No one can tell you where he is. No one will touch you or talk to you. And you can't turn off the terror of what happens if you fail." "The third..." Ginger looked out the window. "This one is a rumor, but I believe it. There's a valley on this island, with steep walled sides. There's no path out and no way to climb up. There's fruit growing, and a spring. They leave you there, alone, for days. You can do what you want, masturbate, curse, eat as much as you like. Maybe you're there for a week, maybe a month. Maybe forever. You don't know. We're... changed, so that we're not meant to be apart from men like that. They say that in the end in kills you or drives you insane." "It's not a rumor," Amy said. "They did it to Sharon, fifteen years ago. She never talks about it. And she never, ever, ever gives trouble. She broke and I don't think they bothered to put her all the way back together. She's a hot fuck slut but that'sallshe is. You can pile up all the things that masters have ever done, and I'm basically ok with all of it. But not with that. " "It's funny you didn't even mention the shocks," I said. "That's pretty much only used for the initial training," Amy said. "I haven't felt one in years." "So, if I understand this... they punish by screwing with your head, with your sexual needs. Some deprivation. Some yelling." "Don't make light," Ginger said. "It's deeply, deeply horrible. I'm sure you were expecting whippings, spankings, starvation, beatings... I'd rather have all of those than one of the three bad things." "If they depend on mental abuse, then why did master kick me?" "Full force kick? Or did he put his foot on you and push you over? Did you bruise?" "Alright, it was the latter. No bruise." "That's exactly what I'm talking about. That sums it up perfectly. They feel they have the right to do anything, but the things that would really shatter us, the whippings and beatings, cruelty for its own sake -- that, you won't see. I can't call it respect, and you can just forget the wordequalityever existed, but just as we've been changed,theyseem to be changed. They have a kind of self-control I've never known a man to have. Shows of force are symbolic or carefully measured." "And they can come about ten times in a row," Amy said, smirking. Ginger winced. "Don't even talk about that. Ow." I blinked. "It hurts you when they come?" "Oh, baby," Amy said. "You don't understand. Their cum -- when it gets way up inside you... you cannot imagine it. It triggers something inside you there are just no words for. Orgasm doesn't touch it. It's a half hour of writhing, quivering, wordless fuckbliss. And they can do it to you over... and over... and over... fuck. Two of those and you can't walk. I had seven, one night. Master had to carry me to the medical station and it was a full day before I could finish a coherent sentence, let alone stand up. And it's totally addictive." "Addictive. So what happens when they get tired of us?" "They don't seem to." "But eventually..." "Well, not so far." Amy said, grinning. "I've been here for years. How old do I look to you?" "Here it comes," muttered Ginger, looking out the window. "Um... nineteenish? I kind of thought you were one of the youngest ones here. They kidnapped you as achild?" "No. I was twenty when they took me... about..." she tapped on her fingers, "...twenty six years ago," she said, with a wickedly serene smile. *** I sipped my tea. My hands were shaking. "Not funny." "I'm not trying to be. We don't age here." I looked at Ginger, who couldn't have been over twenty five. "Thirty or thirty one," she said. "I was brought here about eight years ago. No one ages here, not a day. And I swear we aren't jerking you around. This is solid truth." I looked out the doorway. "Huh. No aging?" I sipped tea, and then the cup fell to the floor from my nerveless hand. It bounced, but that didn't matter. "Easy, love. I know it's a bit of a shock." "Shock. Yeah. I have to go home now. I can't be here. I'm d-dreaming, or something. I need to tap the ruby slippers and go home." In the distance, I saw a man, walking. "Theycan'thave that kind of power. It's not p-possible. Or right." "Sometimes it's easier to just think of them as Greek gods," Ginger said, softly. "Some nights I get fucked from behind by Apollo, and when I'm done singing his praises with my body, I crawl to him and lay my face against his chest, and moan in animal delight, and he kisses me on the mouth and says nice things. Yes, he can and does punish me if he thinks he needs to, but who cares. It's so very, very worth it." "Buthow? Are they human at all? How did they do all this?" "They say they are as human as we are. They are flesh and blood and sometimes let things slip about their old life, but not often. We don't know how, Marie. They never say, and they never will. Before you defy them, know what you are up against. We have no secrets, they have vast power, and we're trainedto obey them. If it's you versus them, understand that they already won, and always will. Eternally. Welcome to Elysium." "Oh!" said Amy suddenly. "We're forgetting the most important thing. Marie, listen, because if there is one thing you need to know, it's this-" "Somethingmore importantthanimmortality?" "Yes. It's about jealousy. Women can be jealous creatures. But here, we mustn't be. No matter what. Ever. Take this to heart -- never, ever resent another woman here, no matter what she gets and you don't. If your master" -- she dipped her eyes -- "does take me to his bed, then that's what he does. You can nothate me for it. And it applies to every woman. We have to have each other's back. We have to be able to trust each other, totally. If that falls apart, we have nothing. So no hate, no resenting, no snits, no backstabbing, none of it, ever." "The masters demand it?" "They could care less," Ginger said. "This isourrule. Harem intrigue all sounds fun in a romance novel but it willdestroyyou here. They -- the men -- are not perfect, Marie-" I stared at her, stunned. "Mercy, really? You're messing up my view of rapists." "You know what I mean. They make mistakes with us, and it can hurt. Some night I might come sobbing to you, needing someone to put me back together. I have to know you're my friend at such a time. There's no sisterhood anywhere, like the one we have here. Donotmess it up." "Somehow, this is comforting," I said. "It's good to know they are enough like the males I've met, to screw us over emotionally and have no clue how to fix it. It humanizes them." Amy smiled wryly. "They are very human, in all the ways that matter. And a billion times better in some ways. But they are still men. You have to keep your expectations low -- just like you always did. The last time I broke into tears over something, and ok, yes, it was something silly, my master" -- dip -- "looked over at me and said 'Go do that somewhere else.' And the bastard meant it." "Wait," I said. "Back to jealousy. One hundred men, three hundred women?" "I imagine you haven't met Susan yet," Amy said, gently. "She's nice. You'll love her. You damn well better." "Every man has his own harem. Oh fuck... threesomes," I said, with ice settling in my belly. "When they want it," Ginger said. "And sometimes they do. Not as much as you might expect. And while you may have trouble accepting this... when the time comes, you won't mind so much. When they get you in that hyped up state, anything goes, as long as there's cock in it for you. Just take my word for it and don't fret about it for now." "You know," I said. "Now that I finallyseehow men always wanted everything to be... I think I hate men." "They're bastards," Amy said, smiling. "Ruthless, fucking bastards. But wait 'till you get fucked by a ruthless bastard. There's a lot you'll forgive." "Because they've programmed us to forgive them! We're Stepford Wives, by way of Lost and some damned greek myths!" Ginger chuckled. "Stepford wives -- they were robots, right? All submissive and subservient? How different do you really feel, other than the constant sexual arousal? Do you feel submissive?" "What's the difference?" "All the difference in the world. You're stillyou. I'm sure they could have conditioned you to be a subbie little simpering idiot, but they didn't. Your master" - eyes dipped -- "wanted you to be as he found you, between the ears. The reality is, he choseyoubecause he wantedyou. If he wanted a simpering robot, gracious, there are women like that who don't need any conditioning whatsoever. They kidnap from all over the world, you know. They can have whatever they want. He wantedyou, bitchy spirit and all." "Bitchy? Check your standard of reference. You're a woman who dips her eyes every time she saysMaster," I pointed out. Ginger sighed at me. "It's a rule. I'm not defending everything about this place, sweetie. Kidnappers and rapists, yes. But you do yourself no good by demanding that they are worse than they are. I'm not telling you to be happy with your new life. I'm just warning you that in time, you will be - and it won't be because they conditioned that into you." "How would you know? They did something to my sexual responses that I'll never understand. Who knows what else they touched? Can happiness be forced? Hell, is anything I remember about my old life even true?" "We've bounced from Stepford wives to the Matrix," Ginger said. "And I'll use a quote from that movie -- 'they can't tell you who you are.'" "Look," I said. "I'm an immortal slut who doesn't actually know anything, with fuckall knows what drugs in my system. It's not even worth talking. I can't possibly make sense of things. I was supposed to be on a photoshoot today, wearing tight silk and tighter jeans, and smiling over my shoulder at the camera, watching men get erections for me who didn't even have a ghost of a shot at me. Good times. Hell, that was six months ago. Fuck. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do here. Master --" I dipped my eyes, somewhat sarcastically "- doesn't seem to have much time for his latest prize." "He'll see you at sunset," Amy said. "Didn't you hear him?" "He said that?" "Oh girl," Amy said. "I just saved you from a world of trouble. You were kind of out of it at the time, but yes he said that. You'll meet him by the volleyball net. You'll need to grow the slave ears. Every word they say to you matters, and they can get awful particular about you remembering exactly what they say. They've got that whole Male thing going about how words are important, and all." Ginger rolled her eyes. "Wordsareimportant, Amy." "Yeah, crap," Amy said. "I'm a southern girl. Words are for chit-chat. If it's important, call your lawyer and sign a bunch of papers. Not that I'll ever get any Master to understand that." "Southern US?" I asked. "Warning," said Ginger. "This is a discussion about old lives. It's forbidden. It's one of the looser rules, but you're technically not allowed to ask about the old life. Some of the girls here got rescued out of situations they would rather not remember." "But yes," Amy said. "Alabama beauty queen runner-up. I do ballet and sing, and I'mveryconcerned about world peace and crap." Ginger smirked at her. "They rescued you as well, I see." "Hey, Ilikedthat life." "I was fond of mine, too," I said. "Look, I'm sorry, but my brain is full. I kind of lost it when I learned I was 23 going on 23, eternally. Can I just... wander around for a while? Is that allowed?" "Yes. Stay out of buildings unless brought into one by someone, some of them are not... safe for you, yet. And don't go to any beaches yet. You aren't ready for that. Your master" -- dip -- "will explain all that." "I'm sorry I've been bitchy," I said. "It's all..." "...way too much," Amy said. "But this is what we're for, honey. Talk when you need to. It helps. Leave the tea cup, someone will clean it up later." I glanced at the forgotten tea cup. I shook my head. "I... need some air." And I got up and walked out. *** Looking around, there were a group of buildings behind me, the large open field in front of me, with the volleyball net, and a lake at the other end of the field. To the sides were forests. I decided to just circle the field to start, to clear my head. There were a couple of people in a small boat on the lake, but it was a tiny, single mast catamaran, which didn't interest me. The woods were full of paths, which I'd explore another day. As I walked back around towards the buildings, watching a bright yellow sun sink in the sky, I saw a new woman, leaning idly against a half wall. Naked except for heels. Long flowing dark hair. I sighed. Her pose was so obviously inviting that it was a little difficult to look at her. There was noshamein her, and so I felt it for her. A man came out of a building and walked towards her. I stopped, watching. He fisted her hair, and ran his other hand, slowly, over her torso. Her eyes closed, her back arched, and her hips came forward, invitingly. He bent her backward against the half wall, and tore his shorts down. Leaning over her, he sucked her nipples, and she made soft, musical moans, gasping out words I couldn't quite make out. She rubbed her belly against his cock, and his whole body tightened in a way I couldn't take my eyes away from. My body was throbbing. Then she was on her knees, licking and sucking his immense cock, and gasping. It was so hot, watching her willingness. He growled something low and deep, and started thrusting into her mouth, and she twined her arms over her head and sucked him deep, swaying, shaking. Finally, he stood her back against the wall, and shoved into her. She cried out, softly, and rocked against him so sensually, so hungrily, that I gasped aloud. And then she went wild, pumping him with her hips, moaning and crying out with abandon. It was his pre-cum, I knew. Having just felt what this was like, my whole body clenched in sympathy. Then he started pounding her against the wall, one hand still in her hair, another over her breast. The motion of her body was beyond erotic, but it was her face that really shocked me. Her face saidI'm a good girl!,and was mixed with such intense pleasure, such utter delight, that I blushed, even as I panted. It was obscenely beautiful, utterly vulnerable, completely raw. He took her ruthlessly, his muscles working like a mule's, and she opened wider and wider to his thrusts. Then he came, shuddering into her for the better part of thirty seconds. I couldn't see his face, and it was just as well, because the sight of a man's face, as he comes, has always driven me crazy. She went insane. He body undulated like a snake and she stared sightlessly at the sky, sobbing and clinging to him. He bent her head back and kissed her mouth, over and over, but I wasn't certain she even felt it. Then he lowered her to her knees, wiped his cock on her mouth, and slid her gently to the ground. She continued to writhe, crying out broken sentences. He looked back suddenly, at me. Other than the insufferable look of 'satisfied male' on his face, there was something else - he eyed me, and smiled, slowly and wickedly. I whimpered, and my knees gave out on me. I slid to my knees and buried my face in my hands. When I could look up again, he was gone. She was still shuddering on the ground. I turned and ran. I'd just watched Brad Pitt fuck Roslyn Sanchez, and if it had been a video on my computer I'd already be stuffing a vibrator up myself and shaking my way to orgasm. This place was impossible. My run turned into a stumble and I settled into the short grass, rocking and trying desperately to control my hands. I didn't even just want orgasm anymore. I wanted sex. I wanted a man to take, suddenly like that, and leave me shaking on the ground. I wanted to see him satisfied, to see that wicked smile, and to know he could do it to me again if he wanted. I wanted to be used, and to be pleasing, and to feel a man's body tighten like that, turning to ruthless stone, as he snarled into my ear and came in my pussy. I burned to be a good girl for a very bad man. She'd begged for it, with her pose and her movements. It had worked. My master, I knew, was waiting for the same from me. He could afford to wait -- he had Susan to distract him in the meantime. I pictured his cock slamming into another woman, and I knew I was beaten. I'd be a good girl for him. I'd beg to be good -- "No!" I whispered to myself. "I have to get away from here. This is wrong. It's not me. It's something they did to me. Not me. I have to get away. Before they get to me. I know what I have to do. And I have to do it before he fucks me and I get addicted to his smile, his hands, and his cock. Oh fuck... fuck... I just have to be strong a little longer, and then find a boat. Fuck, the way he wiped his cock on her mouth when he was done... fuck, fuck, fuck...!" I got up and staggered over to the volleyball court, and sat, putting my back against the pole. I heard a strange, faint humming noise, and my eyes closed. I slept. *** My eyes opened, slowly. It was dusk. The sun was just finishing a slide below the horizon. The sky was strangely green, but fading rapidly to dark blue. There was someone behind me, and I turned my head, slowly. It was Master John. "Good evening, Master John," I said, formally. I'd be polite and cold and dull and he'd move on. He'd go find Susan. He'd decide I wasn't worth his time. "Good evening, slave Marie," he said with that warm smile. "Enjoying the sunset?" Becoming Marie.... "It's lovely. I've never seen that shade of green before." "It's fairly common here," he said. I realized he was naked. I swallowed and looked away. "You had a long talk with the girls," he said. There was my opening. "Yes, Ginger and Amy. They told me some things. The agelessness. It's a huge shock. I... can't really... get my head around it. May I ask you a favor? I'd like to just sit and think about it, quietly, if you'll permit it." "I will," he said with a smile. "Take your time. I am not in a hurry this evening." I nodded, and closed my eyes. Time passed. It was December, I reasoned - I'd been kidnapped in July, and about six months had passed, I'd been told. Aimlessly, I opened my eyes and tilted my head back. Darkness fell quickly in the tropics, and the stars were coming out. I gazed at them, listlessly. And then turned my head, and looked at another part of the sky. And began shivering, hard, not looking at him, not looking at anything, having gotten the worst shock of my life in a day that had already had bad ones. "You have discovered something," he said, quietly. "How... this... oh no. No. This can't be." "I knew you'd figure it out, Marie. I know you're an accomplished sailor. And you had a few books on night navigation in your apartment. I'd have been disappointed if you didn't see it." "The... stars... We'renot on Earth.Or anywhere close. How? How can you do these things?" "How, you'll never know. So... your plan was to get your latitude from the stars, and estimate your longitude from the date and hour, and plot a course to the nearest island. And then steal a boat and sail for your life. It might have worked -- if you were on Earth. Let me show you something, my pretty, clever girl. Do you see that equilateral triangle of bright stars there? Go to the lower left one, move down to that dimmer bluish star below it, and then left to that very faint one, just above the brighter one. You've seen that star before." "I -- oh no. That's thesun, isn't it. Earth's sun." "Very good." I stared at it, and then wept. "I meant it when I said there was no escape, and you'd never be found," he said, softly. "A boat will do you no good at all -- there's no other land for over two thousand miles from here, in any direction. There are other problems with sailing away from here, as well. But it doesn't matter, because there's no boat that can take you home." "Please tell me how this is even possible," I wept. "You claim to know me. Then you know I need to understand things. We're light years from earth? How?" He paused. "Different women here, figure out different amounts. Most all of them still think we're on earth. Which is astonishing, because this planet has a larger, nearer moon, and the difference is noticeable. Apparently very few women actually everlookedat the moon and stars, on earth... They put it down to being in the tropics somehow making the moon look larger, or some such stupidity. No one's noticed it has a twenty six day cycle. That amazes me. But I want it to stay that way, Marie. Some of the girls would lose their minds if they knew they were not on Earth anymore. So I will tell you a very little -- and you will never repeat it." I nodded. "I was in the military, on earth, a number of years ago, on a classified project. I'm not going into details, but we worked with people from other governments and militaries. Together, a few of us made a... well, a very significant discovery. We were supposed to turn our work over to the governments we worked for, of course. We didn't. As military men it was very obvious to us, what the discoveries would be used for. We couldn't allow that to happen. Instead we stole it all and used it to come here, and to do many other things. Travel between stars and immortality all stem from the discoveries, and so do other things." "You expect me to believe that? I'm not stupid," I said. "There's no discovery that lets you travel faster than light,andmakes people live forever,andgives super orgasms. All of that is centuries of hard problems to solve, no matter what breakthrough you made. It's -- oh gods, you found some sort of alien technologies, a bunch of them at once. That's the only way. Someone else, some other race, already solved it all, and you stumbled across it and found a way to apply it all. You -- you discovered there was life elsewhere in the universe and youkept it secret." "You make interesting guesses, and I'm not going to confirm or deny them. The flaw in your reasoning is that we wouldn't have much to learn from an alien's technology about human orgasms, but it's not a bad theory otherwise. The important takeaway is, we discovered something with huge implications, and we kept it from the rest of humanity. You can't imagine the wars it would have started, or how devastating they would be, if we had done anything else. We did what we had to." "Do you go to Earth?" "Rarely. Only to find people to bring here, to be honest. And we don't do a lot of that. This place will grow very slowly. We're picky -- and pickier about the men we invite than the women. We have to be. We don't lightly put the power of the gods into just anyone's hands... So, if it helps you to think about it, the bastard men we bring here are very carefully chosen bastards, disciplined and trained." "Trained, especially, in how to manage women," I said, but without much rancor. "Yes, but don't expect an apology." "But what is this place? Just a harem? Research facility? What are you building here?" "It's just a place to be, Marie. It's a place we found that was as Earth-like as we could manage, and a place to live as we want. No lofty goals, no governments telling us what to do, nothing but the joys of self-determination. I know this place looks nothing like it would look like, if women had made our discoveries and come here instead. But the group was all men, and built a place that suited men. Men have always thought of women as property, deep down. Here we live in accordance to our beliefs and instincts... including that one." "You're-" and I stopped, not out of fear, but simply for the lack of a good word. "The girls usebastard," he said. "You might as well stick with that. It's as good a description as any." "It's not fair," I said, quietly. "The war of the sexes was never supposed to have a winner. It was just a game." "Come sit here and lean against me, Marie." "If I refuse?" "You won't." I didn't. I settled against him, shocked far past anger now. "I suppose," I said, quietly, "if I begged you to let me go, to let me sail away and die at sea, or to let me go back to Earth, or even to just let me run into the woods and hide, that you'd ignore every word." His hands settled on me, stroking my sides. I was molten with need, and he knew it. Then he brushed aside my hair, and bit my neck, gently, just in that place that always wracked my body with shivers. I looked down at myself, in the dimness, and saw a body that ached to be touched, teased... "Every word would be ignored," he whispered against my ear, and then he ran his tongue along the rim of it, and I moaned. His fingertips traced lightly over my breasts, avoiding the nipples, and the hardness of his cock ground against my spine. And then, with cruel slowness, he turned my face to his, and kissed my mouth, with a softness I didn't expect. I broke the kiss as soon as he let me, words burning inside me. "I told you everything... in those six months. Every secret, everything about my sexuality, all my weaknesses. Didn't I." He bit my ear, not quite gently. A sob of need broke from me, and my legs squeezed together. "Of course." His fingernails traced my belly. "And you'll use that," I said raggedly, sinking into a sexual submission I'd never known before, "to make me love you. Don't.Pleasedon't, Master. Take what you want, but... please... leave me that." His strong, merciless hands parted my legs, and stroked the insides of my thighs. I turned my face to him, to be brave and look him in the eye, but it was really to be kissed, and he kissed me slow and hard, and after only a few seconds I kissed him back, stroking his lips with my tongue. His fingertip settled on my clit, tapping... tears leaked from my eyes. "My name's not Marie," I whispered against his lips. "Please, please at least give me that back. Give me something. Give mesomethingI can call my own. Please. Please. I don't know how to live when nothing is mine anymore!" He arched me back, and licked my nipple, while a finger slid into me. I could no longer speak, and I writhed slowly, sensually, against him. I begged him to take me, with my body, and I meant it with every fiber of my being. I caressed him with my hands and legs, moaned raggedly, and most of all I rocked my hip against that massive, cruel hardness. He raised his head, and looked me in the eyes. "Take my cock in your hand. Take some of the precum, and taste it." Shuddering, I rubbed my fingers over the huge, slippery cock, and then licked them. Warmth spread through me, slowly turning to white heat, to the tips of my fingers and toes, and I returned my hand to his cock and balls, rubbing sensually. He growled in need, and shivering in fear from the sound of him, I licked his lips again, very, very lightly. It was unbearably sensual, and deeply submissive. He lifted me up and settled me down over his cock, in my lap, and knotted my hair in his fist to steady me. "Look me in the eyes," he said, firmly, cruelly, and so obviously hungering for me, that I struggled to meet his look. In the end I obeyed, and he saw everything in my eyes, as my body went up in flames for him, as I rocked helplessly on his cock; I lost my words and became a willing, boiling fountain of pleasure for him. He rocked back into me, and when I could stand no more and had to come and come and come, he tipped me onto my back and pounded into me savagely, snarling his demand that I come for him, pinning my wrists against the ground with his massive hands. I wrapped my legs around him, screaming, and then his body turned to stone and he jetted into me- Fuck words. Fuck describing it. Orgasm doesn't explain it. He held me and petted me and toyed with my body the whole time, but I was only dimly aware of it, and when I could form conscious thoughts again, the moon was just coming up over, shining through the trees. He gathered me into his lap again, leaning my body back against his, and he put this hand over my slit and rubbed with his palm. I came over and over, easily, and his kissed my mouth at every peak, sometimes gently and softly, sometimes thrusting his tongue into me and biting my lips. Suddenly my head fell back. I was exhausted; his touch still brought pleasure but my body had no strength to react to it. "I'm... a... good... girl?" I whispered. "I pleased you?" "Hell yes," he said, snuggling in. I looked at the stars, swimming in the tears in my eyes. "I'm... going to miss the flowers and chocolates, though," I said, inconsequentially. "We bring chocolate in, very occasionally," he said. It pleased me that his voice was still a little ragged. "But we do terrible things with it. We rub it on the bodies of the girls and make them lick it off each other, while we finger them. Ass slaps if they make noise. First one to get the other clean gets fucked by three men. The loser gets no sex for two days." "Boys will be boys," I said. I settled my hand on his massive cock, and rubbed it, in awe of the fullness. "You sure you want that again? You might not be able to walk as it is." "You're big and strong, and you'll carry me," I said, smiling. I had no idea what was wrong with me, but it didn't matter right now. "Ha," he said. "Maybe. But I'm just as likely to leave you here all night, and let the sun wake you in the morning. I'm a bastard, as you're probably heard." "The sun," I said, shaking my head. "Does it have a common designation, on Earth? Is it one I ever sailed by?" "Nope. It's extremely dim, seen from Earth. Given Earth's hazy atmosphere, you probably never saw it. The air is clearer here, or you'd never have been able to pick out Earth's sun, either." His cock hardened under my petting. I curled and licked it, wondering if I'd be able to manage to hate myself in the morning. "Hungry girl," he said, his voice rumbling sexily. "I have to admit it's a little selfish," I said. "Can I really have that ... super-orgasm thing... twice in one night? Amy said I could, or at least that she could." I rubbed the massive balls. He was fully erect now, and throbbing. "Lie on your back." I did, and he knelt over me, on my belly. His hands caressed my breasts, and then he took my nipples in his hands. I started panting instantly, and he worked them quickly, and firmly, little pulls and twists that had me arching helplessly. "Fuck," I whispered. "It's like having two clits. Fuck, that's hot!" "I can make you come from this," he said. "But, instead..." he got off me. "Get into your feeding position," he said. I moaned, and did. It was submissive and dirty and he was going to pound me from behind and watch me flail as I came. He settled in behind me, but instead of plunging in, he sank into me slowly, so slowly, and without his hands gripping my hips I'd never have stood for it. I could feel each tiny, maddening movement as he pushed in, and in, and in. And when he was buried in me, I thrashed desperately and begged to beused. He did. He pounded me, and his snarls and my screams echoed off the buildings. I arched into an orgasm, and then another, and then another, and that's when he let go into me, snarling and calling me his hot little fucktoy. I went to my special place again, lived a lifetime there, and when I came down, I was a heap on the ground, and the moon had cleared the trees. Tears poured out of me and I moved, in spasmodic twitches and jerks, to his foot, and licked and kissed it. "So," I said, except I was whispering because my voice was broken. "You have your orgasm, and it seems to last kinda longer than most guys' but it's still, what, under a minute. But that place I I go when you come in me... fuck, mister moon clock says I was there for what, an hour? I think you messed it up, master. Why do I get more fun than you?" He chuckled. It wasn't quite fair, I decided, that by the time I got back to sane again, he'd had all that time to get himself back together. "Men don't need any help getting addicted to orgasms, and anyway, there's only so long that sensation can go, in a male. Women don't have those same limits. And it's pleasing, to watch you in that state. I like holding you in my arms and whispering dirty things in your ear as you writhe." "Things I cannot possibly hear, when I'm off in that dancing-pink-clouds-and-look-I'm-flying -though-a-candyland of an orgasm." "You don't literally see-" "No. Don't be silly, master. I'm not really a unicorns and rainbows kind of girl. It's just I don't have words." "Anyway," he said. "There's a part of you that does hear, way deep down." I shivered. "Oh, that's not fair. You can reprogram me while I'm coming like that?" "It's not programming. Mostly I'm just saying things like 'good baby, come hard for your Master, pretty sweet girl, do you like the way this kiss feels?'" "Can I hate you in the morning? Please?" "Oh, you will. I don't mind. You won't be able to mean it for long." "Try me." "Daily, if you're good." I shivered. He lifted me, and kissed the corner of my mouth, and I snuggled against him helplessly. "What's wrong with me? None of this is... how I am," I said, "Drugs? Why aren't I clawing your eyes out?" "I'm not going to explain what's been done to you. Your reactions are not entirely natural, no, but they are becoming natural. You are turning into what I want you to be. It's impossible to fight it, and irreversible. You do best not to think about it." I shivered, looking at the sky. "I won't be able to walk," I said. "I'm not kidding. My hips feel funny. You're an animal. Oh... and it has to be said. 'I don't usually fuck on the first date.'" "You went down on a couple, though." "You fucking bastard. I told you everything under hypnosis, or whatever, fine. You don't have to rub it in. And those weren't dates. They were talent agents for Victoria's Secret. Well, one of them was -- the other lied." He pressed my head between his legs. "Lick me clean." I did, slowly and carefully, shivering. He did this so casually, and I obeyed so completely, and it was because I wanted to. It wasn'tfair. When I finished I shifted off his lap, settled myself painfully on the ground, and looked at him, as somberly as I could. "I mean this," I said. "So please listen. Don't force me to love you. You've got Susan, or whoever. You don't need my heart, you've got everything else." 'Foolish, pretty Marie," he said. "Don't make me say words you can't stand to hear." "What, that you can tell me to love you, with drugs and hypnosis or whatever? I don't believe that. There are limits to everything, and if you could have, I'd have woken up in love with you already. But a man canpushfor it. Tell me now you won't." "Last warning. Drop it." "No! This is important to me!" "Very well, this is on your own head, then. You already love me, Marie. That has nothing to do with drugs and hypnosis, as you call it. It has everything to do with being kidnapped and taken to a new world, given immortality, and placed ruthlessly, firmly under my will. Women respond to it; it touches them in places even drugs won't go. All that's left is for you to admit it aloud, in my hearing, and that will happen sooner than you care to believe." "No!" He grabbed me by the throat and dragged my mouth to his. "Then try not kissing back, as I kiss you. Feel what it feels like to be kissed, deeply and affectionately, and not give back to me. See how long you can stand being an ice queen now." He kissed my mouth, and my fists drummed on his shoulders and tried to push him away. Then I sobbed. Then I whimpered. And then I kissed him, helplessly and wetly. When he'd had his fill, he pushed me off, and I collapsed in a nerveless heap. "Why?" I said, shattered. "I've never lovedanyone! Don't do this!" "You'll sleep here tonight," he said, and got up. "I'll find you tomorrow, as you're trying to hate me." And he walked away. I stretched out on the ground, eyes wide open, tears exhausted for now. The sky above me was alien, but not as alien as my feelings. "What abastard," I whispered, and fell asleep. *** Amy woke me up. The sun was just showing an edge through the trees. I sat up, yelped, and curled back up, slowly, on the ground. "Ow. Fucking hell, I hurt. Fuckdamnit." She made two fingers into a spear, and pushed them into the hollow between my hip and belly. I shrieked and made a fist at her. "Ow! Damnit, bitch!" "Someone had a night, I see" she said. "You get used to it. The first million ubergasms are the worst. I can probably get you a massage, later. Vela's pretty good. It helps." "Just let me sleep," I moaned. "Nope. Master's orders. You get a solid meal this morning, and then I bring you to meet Susan, who you're going to adore. " I sat up, pain or no. "When I'm like this? Shit! And she'll be all pretty and dressed-" I cracked up. "No, not here, she won't be. No make up, no better-than-thou dresses. I'm going to miss dressing up, and my makeup kit." "We have makeup," Amy said. "The masters caved on that one about a decade ago, when they caught us grinding up red sandstone over in the cliff hills. And they ponied up good. We have it all, sparkle washes, blush, every color for your nails you want. Perfumes, too. It's special occasion only, but-" I grabbed her wrist. "Sister, this is a special occasion. Master fucked me last night, and I'm going to meet the competition this morning. And I know how to use makeup. Give me at least this."