For the first time Clarissa began to have serious doubts about the coming contest, but she thrust them aside, determined not to give the dyke woman the satisfaction of hearing her cry off. Besides, she reasoned, none of this was real and no permanent harm could come to anyone inside VESTA - that much she had learned from her captors.
‘Ye gods!’ she exclaimed when she saw the next item Alma produced, and then burst out laughing, despite herself. ‘You want to fit me with a bloody cock!’ She stared at the huge appendage that rose from the middle of the collection of straps that Alma was deftly shaking out, gaping at the thought of being impaled on such a monstrous appendage.
‘What am I supposed to do with that? It better hadn’t be going inside me,’ she added. ‘That’d rip me apart.’
‘No, it goes outside,’ Tara assured her. ‘You’re supposed to put it inside your opponent.’
‘What? I’m not a fucking lezzie!’
‘If you can,’ Alma added, ignoring her. ‘It’s how you win,’ she went on. ‘Once your opponent is penetrated she cannot fight on and you must finish her while she lays helpless.’
‘Even if I managed it,’ Clarissa retorted, ‘I can’t see that big bitch laying down all helpless like and just letting me fuck her.’
‘There will be no choice,’ Tara replied, enigmatically. ‘It is the way.’
‘But if we’re both wearing those things, how the hell - oh, I see,’ she finished, as Alma presented the harness to her loins. She saw the things had been cunningly designed so that, whilst the straps held the massive shaft like an erection before her, they were cut away and adjusted so that her denuded sex was left open and unprotected, an easy target for Christina’s own phallus.
Clarissa shook her head. ‘This gets worse and worse,’ she grunted, as the straps were pulled tightly about her. ‘Me and my big mouth. Why didn’t I just shut up and ride it out. Someone’s bound to find us eventually.’
Eventually could be a long time, but I shouldn’t even count on that ever happening.
‘Back again? Well, let me tell you, no one ever gets away with anything forever. They’ll be onto you in the end.’
Don’t hold your breath, slut. Save it for something worthwhile.
‘Bitch!’
You better believe that!
Slowly Susie dissolved, the personality that had established the total lack of control of Paul’s female virtual body beginning to fade back almost as soon as Dolores and her two henchmen departed, leaving the ballet-toed form lying limply on the floor in the centre of the halo created by the spotlights overhead.
Susie’s bondage, however, remained, as did all her exaggerated femininity, and Paul lay motionless, eyes screwed tightly closed, unwilling and unable to look at the evidence of what he had been reduced to.
‘Very fetching.’ The voice cut through his befuddled thoughts, his eyes opening wide as he recognised the accented tone. Rolling further onto his side, he stared up at the towering blonde figure.
‘You!’ he gasped, wishing his arms were free of the cramping pouch at his back. Christina laughed, but without real mirth.
‘I’m touched to see you haven’t forgotten me,’ she sneered. She extended one booted foot and pressed it against his naked left breast. ‘Suits you,’ she said, deliberately making the fleshy globe wobble beneath her sole. ‘And no male bits either, I see. Let’s have a closer look.’
She kicked him onto his back and, still using her boot, forced his thighs apart, exposing the evidence of his virtual feminisation.
‘Inviting,’ she said, her tongue tracing a track across her upper lip, ‘but plenty of time for such things later - plenty of time.’
‘What do you want?’ Paul croaked, staring up at her through saucer-like eyes. ‘How did you get here...?’
I got here,’ Christina said, stepping back, ‘the same way you did, through Marlon’s clever little boxes of tricks. However, unlike you, I was not prepared to trust myself to one of his so-called “passive” portals. No, I am here via one of the active portals, which gives me control over you and your friends in the same way that we have now taken over control of VESTA in its entirety.’
‘But how?’
‘Oh, you don’t need to know the details,’ Christina said, ‘just that we do have absolute control now, not only of the machine, but of the building in which it stands and the entire estate around it. Your old friend, Mr Naylor, went to a lot of trouble to see to it.’
‘What about the others?’
Christina raised her eyebrows. ‘By that, I assume you’re referring to your little girlfriend, the blonde slut who showed such scant respect for my hospitality at our last meeting,’ she said. ‘Well, she is safe and secure, I can assure you - very secure as it happens, and you shall see her in time, though not just yet.’
‘What are you going to do to us?’ Paul said, wishing his voice would return to its usual male sound.
Again the eyebrows went up. ‘Anything that takes my fancy, I expect,’ Christina said. She aimed an idle kick at his right boot, but the contact was not heavy, simply a symbol of her power over him.
‘I’ve already done plenty,’ she continued. ‘For instance, it was my idea to create those two studs and have them screw your pretty brains out, though I didn’t expect you to enjoy it quite as much as it appeared you did. I must say that was quite a floorshow. Oh yes, I was watching the whole thing. Quite the slut, little Susie, aren’t you?’
‘You’re warped!’ Paul cried, but turned his face away from her steely eyes.
Christina shrugged. ‘I am constantly amazed at how you people keep accusing me of being warped, sick and many other things, and yet here you are...’ She paused to let her words sink in. ‘Was it my idea for you to come in here as a big-titted whore, eh? No, I don’t think so. That was already underway before I was able to take a hand - an extension of your little secret longings, I believe - and then I merely took things to what I assumed would be a natural conclusion. If you take on the body of a slut, you must expect to take on everything else that goes with it.
‘The same goes for your subservient little girlfriend, except I’m not so sure she likes it now she’s found out once more what it’s really like to be helpless and completely under the control of someone else.’
‘Hardly surprising when that someone else is you,’ Paul pouted. The facial expression was not missed by Christina.
‘Oh, how delightfully pretty you are when you sulk, Susie dear,’ she taunted. ‘And such a pretty mouth, too. We shall have to find other uses for those full lips, though. It would be a shame to waste them on such sullen expressions.’
‘I reckons you should be just about ready for a damned good tupping now,’ William said, unfastening the last of the straps that kept Lianne bent over the shaft of the cart. He lowered it and the attached dildo slipped easily from her. Lianne stood motionless, unable to look down, though she would not have done so even had she been able, for she did not need reminding of the evidence of her surrender.
‘C’mon, pretty Amber,’ William said, grasping the reins and flicking them to encourage Lianne forward. ‘You can come upright now.’ Unresisting, she allowed herself to be led back into the stables, her shod hooves clattering her shame as they reached the hard flagstone surface, her bells and chains rattling at every step.
‘Seems they don’t need you for a bit yet,’ William said, guiding her towards the curious frame that now sat between the facing double row of stalls, ‘so you and me got plenty of time to get proper aquatinted, like, ‘specially now you’re a proper filly.’ He shortened the reins until he was holding them in his fist just a few inches from Lianne’s elongated face, and stared into her eyes.
‘See, I can’t be doing with gals that gives ‘emselves airs and graces,’ he said. ‘Me bein’ only a country boy, they don’t wanna know, see. No, they don’t fancy shaggin’ the
likes of poor William, that’d never do, would it? But my ponies, now that’s different, innit?
‘My ponies gets to be dead grateful, ‘cause if they shows me a bit of love an’ affection, then I shows it back. Y’see, Amber, I kin make things a lot easier for you around here,’ he continued. ‘Or a lot worse,’ he added, grinning unevenly. ‘D’y’unnerstand that, horsy gal?’
Miserably, Lianne nodded, for William had left little room for misinterpretation. She looked at him through heavily lidded eyes, wondering what was so fascinating about a girl whose face looked like a horse’s, and then she remembered. This wasn’t the real world, after all, just something that had been created - was still being created - by an inanimate machine that was trawling between the heights and depths of all human sexual experience. She shuddered, setting her bells and brasses to tinkling once again.
‘Now, I’m gonna take the bit out of yer mouth,’ William said, reaching out to detach the necessary clips, ‘and then you gonna use that tongue of yours just exactly like I shows you. An’ don’ you go gerrin’ any silly ideas about using them teeth of yours, pony girl, else I’ll have the vet pull ‘em all and afterwards I’ll take the crop to yer rump like there’s no tomorrow.’
Except, Lianne reflected forlornly, as the bit came away and she allowed herself to be forced down onto her knees, there would be a tomorrow. And another tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that...
Nadia was beginning to get worried - seriously worried, and was also angry with herself that she had not realised earlier that something was wrong. And now that the ‘safe’ phrase was refusing to have the desired effect she had no idea of what she should do next.
She tried to console herself with the thought that it was probably only a temporary hitch. Marlon would soon realise something in VESTA appeared to be failing to make the desired connections and either put it to rights, or else just pull her out of the virtual world while he sorted the problem. After all, she reasoned, in reality he was only a few feet away from all of them, operating and monitoring his master console in the same room where Nadia’s ‘sleeping’ physical body lay in its pod.
Damn it, she thought fiercely. At first it had all seemed to be going so splendidly, even better than her first experience inside VESTA, for this time she was in control, which was generally how Nadia liked her world. She furrowed her brow and tried to think back.
How long ago had it been? One hour? Two? Five? Marlon had warned them all that time inside VESTA might not always coincide with time in the outside world, and that a scenario that appeared to have filled ten hours inside might turn out to have occupied only two hours of the outside world’s clock. So maybe she’d only been in here less than half an hour, in which case it might still be a while before she could reasonably expect Marlon to discover they had a problem.
She strode across the empty chamber, heels clacking hollowly, perched herself on the narrow bench that ran the length of the far wall, and tried to clear her mind of all thoughts save the safe phrase; perhaps it required more concentration than she had been led to believe.
‘Bag and baggage,’ she said out loud, enunciating the three words very carefully. Nothing. She tried again, speaking much faster, but the result was the same. Automatically, she lifted her left wrist, but of course, even in the real world she never wore her watch when in costume.
‘Shit!’ she hissed, standing up again. She walked over to the blank door and tried the handle for the fifth time in as many minutes, but still it refused to budge. She swore again and tried to remember where and when it was that events had started to go wrong...
Resplendent in her high boots, catsuit and studded collar, switch grasped in her gloved right hand, Nadia opened the door and entered the larger chamber, not in the least surprised to see the circle of spotlights illuminating the area at the far end of the space, nor the three figures kneeling, heads bowed, hands behind their backs.
One male and two females, she saw as she approached - a good balance for most circumstances and a good mix of ages, for the male was somewhere in his early thirties and the females were aged about five years older and ten years younger respectively. All had golden yellow hair and lightly tanned skins, which contrasted beautifully with the crimson leather of their bondage.
All were secured identically, broad collars about their necks, their arms secured high up their backs by means of leather mittens that tapered into D-rings that were, in turn, locked to the backs of their collars. Their feet were clad in matching strappy sandals, all with heels, though those of the male were much lower and chunkier than the needle thin points upon which the females would have to balance when Nadia ordered them to stand again.
Apart from their footwear and their bondage, all three were naked, their bodies clean shaven and lightly oiled, so that they glinted and shimmered beneath the slowly changing coloured lights. Nadia nodded and grinned to herself, wondering if any of them were connected to the real people outside, or if they were just VESTA creations.
She stopped short of them, slapped the switch against her right boot and ordered them to their feet. They obeyed with a languid grace and turned upon her next command to stand facing her. She studied their features, but the result was inconclusive: the younger girl could have been related to Lianne and the older woman bore a vague resemblance to the girl Lianne had replaced a year or so earlier. But the similarities were very superficial and the heavy eye makeup and mascara that both wore had an almost cloning effect in many ways.
Even the male had a bland face - attractive enough, but as though a machine had taken all the acceptably handsome or attractive attributes and blended them in a mixer; which was, Nadia reflected, precisely how VESTA was programmed to work.
‘Names!’ she snapped, slapping her boot again and raising the switch to point it to the older woman, who stood on the left of the line. Dull-eyed, she replied.
‘Gina, mistress.’
‘Troy, mistress.’
‘Becky, mistress.’
Nadia nodded, running her eyes up and down each figure in turn. Both females were long-legged and had firm high breasts, the older, Gina slightly wider hipped and heavier limbed, whilst Troy’s body was muscular without being overly so, with an exaggeratedly slim waist and almost girlish hips, an impression immediately countered by the size of his thighs. He also boasted a rigid erection and Nadia shook her head at this.
‘No, Marlon,’ she whispered, wondering if he could hear her, or whether her words would be recorded somewhere for later analysis. ‘It’s too bloody blatant.’ She decided to experiment.
‘Can you get rid of that?’ she demanded, flicking the switch at the bulbous head of his stiff organ. Troy looked baffled.
‘Get rid of it, mistress?’
Nadia sighed. ‘No, maybe not,’ she conceded. ‘Oh well, that’s one job you two sluts have been saved.’ It was not going as she would have liked; slaves, after all, were supposed to be more cowed and scared, whereas this trio were too docile and accepting. She decided to try something different.
Behind the three of them, at the far edge of the circle of light, stood a simple whipping horse, four legged, padded top and cuffs waiting for wrists and ankles. The legs appeared to be adjustable and Nadia immediately saw some potential.
‘You,’ she said, indicating Gina. ‘Get over there, against the horse. No,’ she cried, as the woman tried to drape herself face down over it, ‘facing away from it, standing at one end. Right, wait there. You, Becky,’ she said, crooking a finger for the younger girl to approach her. ‘Turn around and let’s get these things off you.’ Using the key that hung from her belt she released the locks on the girl’s mittens, drew her arms to the front of her and released her right hand from the leather pouch completely, before passing her the switch.
‘Just keep hold of that,’ Nadia said. For a second or so the girl looked almost confused, but the blank expression retur
ned almost immediately. ‘Now, let’s see to you first,’ Nadia said, striding across to Gina.
‘Enjoying your new lifestyle, slut?’ Lianne looked up miserably from the narrow trough at the front of her stall, a trough which she kept feeling compelled to drink from, even though reason told her she should not - could not - feel thirsty here.
Christina towered over her, their height difference emphasised by the fact that Lianne could no longer stand upright, the taut leather lines from the thick collar down to her ankles forcing her to remain in a stooped position.
‘Not so much to say for yourself nowadays, have you?’ Christina sneered. She reached out and grasped the ring that held the left-hand side of Lianne’s bit and twisted her head over viciously. ‘Maybe I’ll get Koenig to let you have a working tongue again, at least for a while,’ she grated. ‘I think I’d like to hear you beg now and then.
‘Meantime,’ she continued, dragging Lianne sideways along the front barrier until she was level with the stall gate, ‘maybe a few whinnies and neighs will have to suffice. Out here, pony bitch!’ She released the gate catch and hauled Lianne out into the central concourse.
‘I think you’ve had enough rest for the moment,’ she said, turning the hapless girl towards the outer door, ‘and ponies get lazy if they’re not exercised regularly. Of course this,’ she said, suddenly reaching down between Lianne’s legs and grasping her bare mound in one large hand, ‘has had plenty of exercise. We made sure of that with William. He’s a big lad, isn’t he?’
She broke the rough contact and jerked hard on the bridle harness again, almost sending Lianne headlong, but steadied her again with another tug before setting her towards the paddock outside.
The sun did not appear to be any lower than when William had last taken Lianne inside, but now there were a few changes in the way the small field was set out. In the centre stood a tall pole, a sturdy timber of perhaps four inches in diameter and some ten feet tall. Near its top, Lianne saw, a thick iron collar had been nailed around its circumference and this held up a heavy metal ring, from which dangled a long slender chain.
Vesta - Painworld Page 18
