Trained to Obey 2

by Bruce McLachlan

  Sobbing from the sheer savagery of the pose she fought for breath and courage to remain quiet as the hands of the Mistress started to wander upon her suspended form. The delicate touch soothed her a little, her eyes blossoming with new flows of tears from the strain of such bondage.

  As always Kirsten hauled and wiggled against it, seeking the elusive means to get free or at least ease the rigor of the position. It was an impossible feat and only served to enlighten her as to her helplessness and accentuate her suffering.

  The Mistress ceased exploring Kirsten’s contorted body and stepped out of the tight sarcophagus. Looking into her captive’s gloomy cell she smiled and spoke softly.

  “The sporadic showers you will receive contain a chemical agent that will cause your new skin to contract. As it shrinks and crushes you into submission, be aware that it is being done to punish you for disobeying me, slave. Had you complied readily, you would be eating well and sleeping comfortably at the foot of my bed. Instead, you shall suffer.”

  Kirsten began to blurt words of apology and solicitation as the doors slid together and clanged shut, sealing her in darkness and ending all contact with the Mistress.

  With a crackling burst the coffin resounded with the tirade of indoctrination and a deluge of water fell from above, the shower falling across her body and face, making her violently shake her head as she tried to access air, the flow impeding breath and making her fight to escape. Her hands were digging into her sex as she wriggled her arms, the brutality of her motions bringing distress and revealing that if she merely eased such defiance she could use the opportunity to pleasure herself.

  As promised the skin began to contract, the slight cinch becoming a clenching fist that arose in intensity, compressing every portion of her form. Her flesh pounded with waves of hatred for this misuse, the ever-dwindling sizes of her suit crushing her. Her ribs groaned as the intensity continued to gather its potency and she was soon shrieking in torment, her body on the verge of implosion.

  The shower ceased abruptly but the suit continued to shrink as droplets hung from the organic cocoon. Wheezing, Kirsten fought against the suffocating squeeze to her chest that stifled any breath, leaving her to draw in slight pants as she was riven with unending torment.

  Using violent spasms she tried to throw off the clinging rivulets, shaking free the excess and praying that the constriction be reversed.

  After an eternity of waiting the hold began to slacken, the alleviating of the vice causing feeling to trickle back into her squashed flesh and echo the previous torment until her artificial skin was once more returned to the natural size of her frame.

  Easing her fight, Kirsten pulled at her bonds, the effects of her twisted position replacing the anguish of the compression. Stealing the moment, she started to rub her crushed hands against herself, the hesitant influx of motion through the compiled layers exacting a delicious covert indulgence.

  Slyly masturbating, she moaned in delight as she dreamt of being curled at the base of the Mistress’ bed, listening to her sleep as her body embraced the bare feet of her gorgeous owner.

  She was well on her way to achieving orgasm when the shower sparkled into life once more, sending gushing flows down over her body, initiating the withering of the suit and restoring her to the agony of this terrible crushing force. The onanism helped her at first, the rising squeeze across her body making her groan aloud as the pain and pleasure merged and seduced her. But then it continued to get worse, impeding her motions, depriving her of the countering agent that was her imminent climax.

  Kirsten wailed and bitterly regretted having turned from her Mistress’ commands, the lonely confines of the awful prison echoing with her cries and the renewed erasure of her capacity for rebellion.

  She had lost the chance to reside with her Mistress in her most intimate moments, to share her bed as a pet and Kirsten swore never ever to offend her again.

  Chapter Nine

  “I knew this was a bad idea. This is exactly why I was against it in the first place,” Gary muttered under his breath, his sore disposition no more improved for the chill that held dominion in the air. The night itself seemed to steal all the warmth from his body like some compulsive thief on a wanton spree.

  With their faces downcast and sullen the rest of the band failed to rise to his words. The sense of despair that had been cultivated by the futility of trying to survive in such a hostile environment seemed to be too much to face any more. They had fought constantly for their lives and still they had no chance of peace. The search to rescue one of their own had resulted in the loss of another of their number, her fate unknown. The added floors to the tower of misery that was their existence was making it sway unsteadily, ready to topple and collapse in ruins.

  Ceasing the idle sharpening of a wooden stake with his claws, Steven looked at the makeshift shard for a moment. With a hiss of anger he cleaved it in two with a dancing slash and arose to stomp off into the darkness.

  Casting the split branch over his shoulder he hacked a path into the undergrowth with wide and brutal swings from his taloned fingertips. Stopping a short distance off he slid down against a tree as an emasculated heap.

  Anna’s face emerged from four cupped hands and looked into the small fire, tears trickling down her cheeks. “You’re sure there was no sign of what happened?”

  “I’ve already said,” replied Gary, and with a huff of irritation began to repeat himself. “She’d been watching a flat. The house was raided, so was the flat. I don’t know whether she was caught, whether Maria was in the flat, whether she was taken, whether they escaped individually, together, or at all. That’s it!”

  “Didn’t you question the locals to see if they saw something?”

  “And how do I do that without arousing suspicion? Walk up to the first mundane I meet and say ‘Excuse me Miss, did they capture the mutants across the road and by the way, do you know where they took them? What’s that? Why am I asking? Er, No reason, no reason whatsoever.’ For fuck’s sake Anna, I might as well walk into a Stalker base and give them a display of my mutation.”

  “Well we can’t just desert them!”

  “And why not?” he snarled. “If we go in again more of us might be caught. Even Steven has to agree it’s too dangerous to go tramping in and start ferreting around to find out where they’ve been taken.”

  The brooding mutant failed to respond to his name. He was lost in his own apathy.

  “It was a Stalker unit who conducted the raid?” asked Anna.

  “Yes, I’ve already said so. Some woman officer in a weird uniform led them in,” Gary gruffly answered.

  “What woman?” snapped Steven, turning suddenly to apply full and unusually intense attention to Gary’s words.

  “The woman! The one I—” stammered the mutant spy.

  “You didn’t mention anything about that!” growled Steven, his voice corrupted by an ugly swell of barely suppressed choler.

  Gary calmed his words and explained more pleasantly. He was sure that he had spoken of this minor detail but he wasn’t intending to irk Steven anymore by maintaining his defense.

  “She was a Stalker officer, I don’t know the rank.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Blonde, good looking, really nice body…for a mundane I mean. That was about it.”

  Steven’s face seemed to drop as he heard the description, his eyes widening in horror at the recollection of something dark and heinous, something that had remained hidden from the group.

  “She’ll be at the Stalker base to the north, the one just on the outskirts of the city,” he muttered.

  “Who? Maria, Sarah, or the officer?” asked Gary.

  “Our friends!” he roared with a monstrous hatred in his voice, a level of indignation that escaped all suppression at the mere notion that he could be seeking this officer who he obviously loathed so greatly.

  “Everyone up, we’re moving out,” he exclaimed.

  “Wher
e to?” inquired Anna, her many arms reaching up to snag branches and lift her from the ground and back onto her feet.

  “We hit a transport, get some better arms and we break our friends out as soon as possible,” announced Steven.

  “Why so hasty there, mate? I thought caution was your favored method,” Gary responded lightly, trying to placate his friend’s wrath.

  “If we don’t go in soon, it’ll be too late,” he replied wistfully, his face twisted into a sneer at the recollection that was inspiring this maddened rescue dash.

  Thinking better of further inquiry, Gary closed his mouth and began to pack. The rest of the group joined him, each turning the odd suspicious look to Steven as the morose warrior furiously stashed his few belongings and readied for combat.

  Chapter Ten

  Maria hung by her wrists, reaching into the manacles with her mind and tugging at the unseen mechanism. She was desperate to try and alleviate the stress upon her suspended form and her ears and eyes were dazzled by the lessons she was being programmed with.

  The volume was hideous to her, especially because she had grown used to the quiet serenity of the deep forest. Now her very soul seemed to reverberate with the potent indoctrination.

  The door slid aside and the officer strolled in, the sounds and chaotic illuminations ending suddenly with her appearance, making Maria intensely grateful for this deliverance.

  With the opening of the cuffs Maria dropped to the floor and fell onto her front, her feet still splayed wide by the leg spreader. As she laid procumbent and enfeebled, the woman stepped into the gap, trapping the bar in the lofty instep of her footwear as the other foot pressed a spiked heel into the helpless mutant’s rear, stabbing gently into the soft flesh and restoring Maria’s energy in shocked gasps.

  Squirming in her bonds, Maria pawed at the attacking foot, her hands and fingers sustaining the odd bite of the rigid dagger as the woman arbitrarily targeted the obstructing flesh with spiteful prods.

  “I hope you’ve been assimilating your education, slave,” she purred, taking considerable enjoyment in seeing Maria squirm under her heel.

  The stiletto started to scratch a slithering path between her buttocks and nudged her sphincter, the increasing strength of its demands clearly seeking ingress.

  “No! Please! You’ll tear me open!” wailed Maria.

  She tried to stop the officer but she was at an awkward angle and besides, the woman was far to strong while she was too weak from her captivity to do anything about it.

  “That’s my prerogative, slave. You should be aware of that right from the start. I’m going to train you. It’s that simple. If you do well, if you give in to what I want, you’ll even begin to enjoy it,” said the woman with a sultry growl in her voice.

  “Never!” rebuked Maria and then squealed as the woman dug the tall dagger into her one last time and then removed it to step onto the shivering anus of the girl, pinning her hindquarters to the floor.

  “Then you’ll find out that there are far worse things in this life than Sanctuary camps, my sweet slave,” grinned the officer and gave a soft foreboding laugh that sent cold flushes down Maria’s spine.

  Swiftly growing tired of this foreplay, the officer moved from the whimpering body and began to free the snared ankles.

  “Follow me, slave,” she snapped and hacked into Maria with a newly acquired crop, the intense flash of pain stirring her into swifter response to the command after a moment of paralyzation and a pained yelp of response.

  Groveling behind the woman, Maria followed in her wake into another chamber where the lights rose to reveal a new site of torment. She did not want to comply but to resist would only earn her more discipline. If she did not try and do as she was told she might actually end up surrendering to the indoctrination. If she could hold out, keep the punishment to a minimum, do as required, then perhaps her friends would find her and rescue her before she was reprogrammed.

  It was a dim and futile hope but it was all she had for now and besides, this rationale eased her resentment, allowing her to submit with greater ease.

  A short conveyor belt occupied the floor before a wall, the wide strip reaching forward with handrails on either side. From the wall spat a long rod at waist height, the base articulated with rubber flanges. The metal length was also armed with a smooth tip that descended along the slick pole to give rise to bumps that formed into spikes and then into cruel barbs that gleamed like silver fangs in the dull light. Above the root of this fearsome tool was a ring of iron that hurled out several short chains, the silver links grabbing stout buckled straps.

  Dragged forward, Maria was guided onto the belt, her trembling body firmly controlled by the officer. Bent over at her middle, she was steered back until the cold tip touched her rear and then with a slight shove she was compelled to let her anus swallow it. As she was afflicted by the initial stage of the penetration, the straps reached out and started to fasten about her body, the thick leather shackles closing about her waist and thighs and finally her throat.

  “Wha…what are you going to do to me?” whimpered Maria.

  The back of a gloved hand span out and jerked her face aside. Maria wilted a little as her cheek resonated with a fiery plume from the harsh slap.

  “No talking unless I ask you a question, slave,” stated the officer with tempestuous force.

  Maria gave up, her will to resist trickling away in the wake of the abuse, the mere slap having easily shattered her defiance and rendered her compliant. Just how long would it be before this state of affairs became natural to her? Maria prayed that her friends hurry. She couldn’t hold out long against this barbarous reconfiguring of her psyche. Her mind was cracked and weak from her years of persecution. The tyrant in the flat had weakened her will further and even after just one session of re-education she could feel her need to obey and adore this woman lurking through her mind, tainting her thoughts with suppressed lust.

  The woman’s strong grip drew her hands forward and handcuffed each to either rail, one circle of metal locking to her wrists, the other about the metal pole. Maria regarded the elegant curves of her owner with a fascinated stare, unable to place a label to the strange compulsions that were sneaking into her mind. It felt as though the slap had dislodged something in her mind, a poisonous pill of debauchery that had fallen into her brain and was now dissolving, spreading its influence through her synapses.

  The officer’s gloved hands reached forward and began to move upon Maria’s lithe body, the tender fingertips brushing her skin to make her shiver.

  “There is little point in resisting me, slave. I have broken more mutants than you can even conceive off,” she said softly, her fingers rising up to start circling about Maria’s breasts.

  Maria fought the urge to pull away, the pleasure of the touch intoxicating her, charming her into staying still and surrendering to the caresses.

  “That’s it, slave. You can expect such pleasures as my property. I look after my slaves. I see that no harm comes to them and if they perform well they gain such treats,” she smiled, and as one hand began to swirl upon Maria’s teats the other began to sway from side to side, lowering down across her abdomen with obvious intent.

  The delicious pleasure of having her nipples teased easily seduced Maria. The pain and degradation her male captors had heaped on her made her highly equable to this treatment and left her yearning for more, to feel something other than misery in her life. She had never been touched like this before, her inexperience as to how her body could react leaving her startled.

  The officer worked her hand down slowly so as not to alarm her, the teasing of her breasts making her actively seek what she had never known.

  The fingers nestled between her legs and Maria arched and stiffened with a wanton moan of shock as the woman began to stroke her, etching swirls upon her clitoris as she trembled from the astounding ecstasy.

  “Do you like that, slave?” inquired the officer.

  “Oh yes!
Yes! I—”

  “You call me, Mistress, slave,” corrected the woman, her lower hand starting to move away to promise denial if Maria did not comply.

  “Mistress! I’m sorry Mistress!” choked Maria, her body coursing with such rhapsody that she was willing to say or do anything to have the woman continue. Survival had taught her to do anything to survive and the established laws of such clear-cut mentality now left her willing to do anything for her pleasure.

  “Good, slave. See, there are many delights awaiting you here if you just accept your lot and agree to be mine without question,” stated the Mistress and after a few final fondles of Maria’s quaking physique she moved back, leaving Maria suddenly stalled in her rise to climax.

  A touch to the controls that dwelt well beyond Maria’s reach set the treadmill floor in motion. The sudden activity carried her back towards the wall, making the rod dive deeper, the studs rattling across her sphincter and almost giving way to the vicious spikes that would tear at her flesh unless she moved forward. With a yell she jumped forward, seeking to run free of this intruder. The steel links twanged taut and stopped her as the straps dug into her skin. Maria was aghast to find that the chains reaching out from the base of the rod denied her flight from the dildo, trapping her on the very tip.

  Maria whimpered in dismay as she realized that not only could she not get off of the infernal spire, but that to keep her punishment to a minimum she would have to strive to constantly strain against the chains and stay perched on the smooth point.

  The belt adopted a more energetic rate, forcing her into a jog, her rear grinding upon the tip as she tried to keep up with the demanded pace.