Trained to Obey 2

by Bruce McLachlan

  The chaotically lit room bore walls that were lined on one side with a row of close-fitting almost coffin-like alcoves that were two feet deep. In the back of these rectangular recesses were small raised panels of a foot square. From these waist height plinths jutted tight and orderly ranks of outward facing silver spines. Clearly wickedly sharp, the tiny fangs seemed to shift with glee as the play of the plasmic light flickered upon them.

  From the wall directly over each section erupted an array of wires that dangled toothed and non-insulated clips around the arsenal of spikes.

  Heavy restraints lay around the raised square, each of the leather cuffs hanging from short chains that bored into close apertures in the wall.

  A segmented rubber hose poured from the interior ceiling above each site, culminating in a long flexible shaft of smooth black with several holes peppering the end. All was quiet save for a soft hum that filled the recesses of the chill ozone-scented air.

  The Mistress drew Kirsten to a vacant spot and ushered her into the alcove. With her rear suspiciously facing the spines, Kirsten simply marveled at the image of the woman as she began to apply the shackles, the rippling blue light making her latex skin seem to shiver.

  Leather bands were tightened about her upper thighs and knees while another encircled her waist, all of them spilling heavy lines of chain into holes in the wall, proving that they were adjustable by hidden winches. A set of cuffs connected her wrists together directly before her stomach. The addition of another set above her elbows pressed her wrists to her skin as a chain joined the two and hauled the joints painfully together at her back. The efforts of a secluded and powerful ratchet device bringing her arms to a thrumming tension that deprived them of any movement. Her fingers wriggled futilely and pawed at her smooth second skin.

  Kirsten anxiously watched the alluring form of her owner work, the woman taking the clamps and locking their fierce jaws to generous pinches of her skin. The small fangs on the clips sank through her protective membrane and pressed ferociously to her true skin, ensuring easy conductivity.

  Kirsten whimpered and ground her teeth in endurance as the awful clamps gobbled up more and more of her anatomy. Sizable morsels were snatched at her hips in an area just out of range of her hampered fingers. Others were acquired at her buttocks, the backs of her thighs and then onto her inner thighs. These additions made her skip from foot to foot as she snorted and tried to keep calm.

  She almost failed to notice two more being attached to her nipple rings, the slight elevation in weight being insufficient to eclipse the keen effects of those harassing her inner thighs.

  “One more, slave,” purred the Mistress as she remained on one knee directly before Kirsten. A final clip sparkled in the light as her other hand started to trace a route into the slit at her crotch. The living material had not regenerated and covered her most vulnerable location and Kirsten’s jaw dropped open in horror as to what was coming.

  Her aghast expression dissolved a little into a gasp of rhapsody as the Mistress drew her digit up through her vulva and started to gently pet her clitoris. She knew it was being prepared for capture and that it would be a hellish event so she stole every second of such pleasure, savoring it in full. The clamp drifted in as Kirsten’s head lolled back and her body tensed in anticipation.

  A gurgling meek scream rolled from her throat as the baleful steel maw ground its carnivorous teeth into her clit. Shuddering and jerking against her bonds, tears welled in her eyes and her fingers clawed to try and reach the horrid implement but the mere inches she needed were insurmountable. Panting in hearty breaths she could not close her thighs without turning the clamps already placed there, their springed hold stern enough that she had not hope of sloughing them off without taking away a chunk of skin.

  “Slave,” stated the Mistress, snagging Kirsten’s attention as it remained devoted to handling the influx of pain from her crotch.

  Opening water-filled eyes she found the Mistress presenting a finger to her lips, commanding her to remove the slight sheen of moisture she had deposited. At the start of her capture she might have decided to bite it off but now, fueled by her masochistic humility, she merely engulfed the black shell and coiled her tongue around it, cleaning the extremity with the erotic diligence of fellatio.

  “Good slave,” smiled the Mistress and traced the back of her hand down Kirsten’s perspiring cheek before removing her presence from the shallow cell.

  Maria was then grabbed and escorted into the neighboring alcove and her own restraint commenced, her bonds being decorated with padlocks of greater size and intricacy to Kirsten’s. It was worse for the girl because not only did she lack Kirsten’s fully flowering masochistic craving, but also she was inexperienced and lacked the modest protection of the organic catsuit that a graduated Hound earned for itself. Consequently, each clip made her cry out and sob as her chains rattled with her desperate fight to break free.

  “No! No more! Pleeeease, Mistress!” she wailed after gaining clamps at her hips and buttocks.

  The relentless officer did not even bother responding and continued uninterrupted, focusing the next pair at the fronts of her thighs.

  “Oh no! Not…n-nnyaaaagh!” she said, the petition becoming a squeal as she jumped up and down, firing herself against her restraints and accidentally banging her crown severely against the ceiling. Sagging aside, slightly dazed by the shocking connection Marie was left ignorant and vulnerable. The Mistress applied the next pair to the girl’s inner thighs without trouble.

  Maria exploded from her daze with a holler of anguish, her body breaking into fits as she tried to free herself of the marauding devices. But brushing her legs together only make the clamps rend the chosen locale with their teeth, her unshielded skin exploding with additional distress.

  “Please, they’re killing me! I…I can’t handle this! It’s too much! Please show pity!” she wailed, ready to say or do anything in order to be free of such duress.

  “Dear me, slave. Not only did you speak without permission, but you forgot my title. I was going to spare you this because of your novice status, but perhaps you need it after all,” the Mistress replied, taking up the final device.

  “What do y—” Maria started to mewl and was caught unawares when the Mistress snapped the clamp to her sex, applying it to excruciatingly lock her sex shut rather than treat her to the same agony as was being heaped on Kirsten. Despite the shred of mercy, the effects were far more energetic and Maria became a convulsing maenad of motion, her body ricocheting from wall to wall as she squirmed and writhed, screeching and sobbing, half words and vague syllables spilling from her lips. The air whirled with wild eddies as her unfocused psionic powers lashed out, the influence given preternatural vitality by her sorrow.

  “Now, on we go,” commented the Mistress, pressing a button near to the edge of the sunken troughs, a means of activation well beyond the occupants reach as the mechanism of the upright sarcophagi broke into spurious and single minded life.

  Instantly the chains began to drag in their links, pulling with irresistible force. Both of the slaves wriggled and bucked against the effects, the banks of spines starting to draw frightfully close. Maria cried out as her naked cheeks started to brush ever more brutally to the nails and was soon joined by Kirsten as her living second skin failed to absorb the full might of the spires.

  Together their rears were pulled into the spines until both feared that the shards would penetrate their skin. Wriggling and shaking, straining against their bondage they wept and stared drearily at their tormentor, hoping for a reprieve that they knew would not come.

  With an inquisitive smile the Mistress applied gags that hung on an interior hook within the chambers. First she buckled a leather plexus about Maria’s head and tightened the bonds until the faceplate was pressed firmly to her lips. Two deflated sacs of dense rubber were held within her maw, each of them set aside a rigid tube that pushed to the back of her throat to make her retch and quake. Around
this tube was another metal ring that was fastened in place to dig just outside her lips but which otherwise bore no discernible purpose.

  Moving to her next possession the Mistress lifted Kirsten’s chin with her finger to present her slave’s lips for a tender kiss.

  Kirsten answered the foreplay with passionate enthusiasm and when her Mistress slowly retreated and replaced her tongue and lips with the inner contrivances of the gag, she did not resist. The belts were fastened tightly to her head and the dominatrix moved back to Maria after giving the girl these few moments to accustom to the initial and paltry influence of the gag before its work was massively stepped up in intensity.

  An inflator bulb was added to each of Maria’s nozzles and used to swell the intruders, filling her mouth with welling balloons that expanded around the pipe and crushed her tongue into the base of her maw. The Mistress continued to squeeze the inflator bulbs in her fists, making the balloons grow ever larger to strain Maria’s parted jaws against the network of buckled straps and cause her cheeks to billow out until she felt sure they were about to burst. As her eyes bulged with anguish and she howled down the mouth tube, the Mistress added a few final pumps to bring her cheeks to a heinous distention and removed the bulbs.

  An overlarge dustcap was then applied to the tip of each nozzle and the locks of her telekinetically tamper-proof gag were sealed so she could not free herself.

  The nozzle of Kirsten’s gag took its turn to accept the inflators and a rapid volley of pumps caused them to bloom and similarly seal off her words and fill her face with stretched agony. Stepping back, the Mistress watched her slaves, touching the control buttons again to have the winches completely release their stash of chain and grant them slack to escape the nails but not to emerge from their alcoves.

  Maria could not understand what the nature of this torment was but she knew she wanted to get off the nails that were sinking into her bruised cheeks. As she lifted forward a blast of voltage made her jerk and force her buttocks back to the slim daggers, her overcompensation escalating their effects considerably. With an instinctive spry jolt she thrust her hindquarters forward against the limits of the chains and again gained a vindictive voltage reply. As her howl fought the gag, the shock began to increase in power, demanding with ever more irresistible force that she returned to the bed of spines. It was an order she quickly obeyed, whereupon the shock ended.

  The cruelty of their punishment was instantly revealed. Should they relieve the keen havoc harassing their rears then they would be given a severe electrical reprimand until they again surrendered to it.

  The Mistress laughed aloud when she saw the full extent of their plight, listening to her pets as they whimpered against their gags, their bodies shuddering in endurance and misery.

  “I’ll leave you for a while to better aquatint yourselves with the full effects of your new punishment. If you’re good in the future, maybe you can avoid such lessons. If you don’t surrender utterly to my rule, I can assure that far worse fates await you here,” she announced. “And while I’m gone you’ll be fed and tended so we can keep you fit and build up your muscles,” she decreed, grabbing the hose that hung beside Maria.

  Clamping a hand across Maria’s bloated cheeks the Mistress used her handhold to force the smooth slightly flexible rod down the gag tube and into the girl’s gullet. Maria jerked, spluttering and retching as it crossed the back of her throat and started to slide down her esophagus and into her stomach, stopping up her breath and forcing her to wheeze through her nostrils.

  The awful sensation of internal defilement by the pipe had her weeping and crying out, her protests vanishing as she was ruthlessly penetrated. When the belt reached her gag plate, the buckled strap was tightened about her head and armed with a secondary lock to render it immune to her influence.

  With the food tube in place a slender winding key was slipped into the leather surface of the plate and the Mistress began to turn it with a malicious smirk. Maria’s mouth was forcibly closed to the gagging food tube when the ratcheted steel band against her lips started to close, digging into her lips and gathering them in to forge an airtight seal. Pinched by the stern hoop they were clamped to the tube to deny any opportunity of regurgitation. Maria mewled and sobbed as the Mistress continued to tighten the ring, crushing her puffed out and gag-smothered lips to the device sheathed in her belly.

  “Now for my dear little pet,” she stated, taking Kirsten’s pipe and leaning in.

  With a startled choke Kirsten allowed the slick length to spill down into her, filling her from within to completely control ingestion. The same internal metal hoop was then used to crush her lips into submission, forcing her to create a painful hermetic seal so that she could not regurgitate around the feeder hose and expel whatever substance the Mistress chose to insert.

  “There, all done. I shall see you both later, slaves,” she commented lightly as she wandered from the room with a broad smile decorating her face.

  Undergoing the torment was extremely strenuous and despite their best efforts the slaves had to occasionally succumb to a brief break from the spines, even though the shock was far more terrible than the nails.

  Giddiness held reign in their bellies and minds as they fought to remain upright and pressed to the spines, their hands restricted to their abdomen by the chains, their arms twisted and aching, the clamps burning as they held to their skin. But as fatigue set in they began to doze off, slipping down from their allotted position to be awoken with searing voltage. As time wore onwards, sleep deprivation made the lesson all the worse and they ached to simply rest, to free themselves from the pain in their rears and the scathing wires that frazzled their nerve endings. Yet until the Mistress deemed it time, they were damned to this scandalous misuse.

  Maria soon learned that she was doubly damned. Her mutant power was warded against by the additions the Mistress had set to her restraints. When she tried to attack the nozzles of the gag with her psionic power, the adulterated dustcaps betrayed her attempt and the cables sent electrical anguish flooding through her system for ten seconds of vicious hell.

  Desperate, she ignored the lesson and fought to move the buckles. The locks were shielded from her machinations and informed on her to have the automated torture device scorch her with another lesson in compliance.

  After failing to learn from these horrendous experiences she turned her attention to the clamps, but the strength of the sprung jaws was too much for her to defeat and all she could do was lessen their influence a little. Her infant powers could only handle one at a time and most of it was concentrated solely to the genital clamp that brought her the most suffering. It was a futile relief because each time she loosened it a little anguished circulation swam back in, making the pain rise to new peaks before it passed. Once her mind and concentration could not hold on, the clamp closed again, repeating the effects.

  Maria wished she had the stamina to just endure the horrid thing but the distress it caused seduced her time and time again, whereupon she cursed her lack of willpower and her mutation. Her deviant genes had not only condemned her to this fate but were helping make her ordeal far more bitter.

  Once again the Mistress was training her mind, refining her power via crisis situations, sharpening it to be of more use once her training was complete and Maria was rendered docile and compliant to the rule of the state commissioned-dominatrix.

  Unable to communicate in any way the two captives remained helpless and suffering, separated by a few feet that might as well have been miles. Lost in their nearly identical trials they waited impatiently, the time dawdling slowly by, extended by the pain that wracked every moment condemned to the alcoves.

  An infinity of hours wandered away as their rears burned and their flesh was flash fried by electrical forks from the painful clamps. Their jaws and billowing cheeks throbbed from housing the oversized gags and their every fiber ached from trying to retain an upright stance in order to placate the unforgiving wrath of the genera
tor.

  Occasional shudders rippled the hoses and their tracts as some unknown substance was forced into their bellies, the feel of an alien presence growing in their gut testifying that they were being fed and nurtured with regular doses of engineered sustenance. Just as their minds were being resculptered and refined to suit the needs of their owner, so to were their bodies being readied for the same purpose.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Every minute spent in the clutches of the erect coffins had become akin to a lifetime, the tedium and distress scrambling any hope of keeping track of time. With their bodily functions completely controlled there was no way to distinguish whether hours, days or even weeks were passing.

  When the doors parted once more and revealed the Mistress they both leapt to full awareness, sloughing off their delirium as the fervid hope of release ruled them. Their oppressor had restored her stark military uniform, the authoritative aura of the attire made all the malignant in the dim light thrown out by the crackling plasma spheres.

  “Another mission has arisen that requires your talents, slave,” declared the Mistress, standing before Kirsten and admiring her straits. “A mutant group attacked a convoy bound for this base. They left no survivors and have no doubt retreated back into the woods. You are to be dropped in to conduct a more thorough ground level search.”

  One by one the awful clamps were set lose to send their secondary wave of pain into the tormented regions. Once Kirsten had settled down after her spasming response to the extractions the Mistress released her from the restraints and drew the feeding tube from her insides.

  Deflating the gag with a soft hiss of escaping air, the Mistress unfastened it and set it aside, letting Kirsten settle upon her knees as a token leash was applied to her obedient pet.