The Fate of Isabel

Coming here had been the right choice. It was boring, isolated, far from anything important. No one was looking for them, and anyone who did would have next to no chance of finding them. The villa was stocked to the gills with food, equipment, even medical supplies.

After all, she’d put it all there herself.

Kara was in the workshop, under the old pool. The pounding beat of a heavy machinist’s drill filled the space and would have deafened her if not for the thick earmuffs she was wearing. A pair of glasses covered her face, reflecting the glittering sparks. She twisted the part and turned it, positioning it just so. The drill cut through the extraneous material, carving it away in layers until all that was left was what was needed.

There was an elegance to simplicity, Kara had often found. Bad mechanics tried to add too much, stupid engineers tried to be complex. They let their ego carry them away and built so much on top of itself that the whole thing was a tumbling tower about to collapse. Even talented workers could fall to this.

It had been Isabel’s flaw.

For Kara, simplicity was supreme. You made an object to achieve its goal as easily, as quickly and with the least complexity possible. No bells, no whistles, no stupid tricks that would gum up the works. If you wanted a gun, would firing five different types of ammunition really be helpful if you had to prime it for each one? If it increased the odds of a blockage or a jam? If it meant you had to carry multiple types on you at once? Or would you rather just have a gun that fired one type very well and was very good at making things dead?

She sighed; the throaty roar of the drill died away. Lingering in the corners of the room for only a few moments before being muted by the heavy shadows. The thing she was making was a panel, an outer casing for an automaton’s chassis. She was proud of it, for it combined flexibility and endurance, providing protection without hindering mobility.

It was the same sort of plates which had helped to make Pump so dangerous. The idea sprung from deep inside of herself, taking root before she could stop it.

With a grunt of disgust, the armour plate crashed against the floor. It rang with the impact.

What was she even doing? It wasn’t like she intended to make anything like Pump ever again. Her work had been tainted. How could she trust her next big project wouldn’t be taken and twisted the same way? All that was left to her was make-work, projects like this that would lead to nowhere. She was wasting her time making armour that would never be worn.

Memories of the past flocked to her mind now that Isabel’s mental block had been totally destroyed. All the things her friend had denied her were now placed back in their rightful place.

She hadn’t been an adventurer.

She’d been the adventurer.

Dashing battles, heroic deeds, saving people at the last moment and even witty retorts! She’d been the talk of the capital, a rich man’s daughter who’d gone off and made something of herself, building a fortune with her own two hands. A genius with machines who could have retired to a life of luxury and wealth but had instead chosen to abandon it all in the name of some greater quest.

Scandalous? Absolutely. Oh, how the old wives had moaned and whispered about her. Did she ever intend to marry? How could she uphold the virtues of a lady like this? Had she taken lovers?

The rumours dogged her, following like bats in her wake. But Kara had never paid them mind. She’d been living the life she wanted to lead. She’d been using her skills, doing what she loved and helping people with her creations.

And then there had been Pump. Her creation. Her monster.

She looked down at her hands. They were clad in heavy gloves, reinforced for dangerous work. Slipping them off, she examined her fingers. Long and slender, her skin was pale. Her hands were dexterous, practised. Like the hands of a surgeon or a doctor. They were hands that made things, that conjured miracles with steel and steam and cog.

And they were hands that were covered in blood.

She couldn’t see it. She couldn’t feel it. But it was there nonetheless. The people Pump had killed, the people that Isabel had sold. All of it was down to her. She had created the monster and she had empowered the woman.

Should she have known better? Was there even a way to tell back then that Isabel would end up like this? She’d been heroic! She’d been her friend! They’d been lovers!

But hindsight didn’t matter, did it? Actions did. She’d made Pump. Pump had helped Isabel to remake herself and together they had created an absolute hell for everyone around them.

To put it bluntly, Kara was under a debt she would never be able to repay. She didn’t even know where to start.

She cast her eyes to the corner of the room, There, hidden by the shadow of a massive boiler, there was a familiar, boxy shape. Kara’s insides boiled. It held a gravity, a weight. She couldn’t look away. Heat churned inside of her.

Now the roar of the drill was gone, she could hear a different sound. Softer and subtler, yet intoxicating and addictive. She remembered how it had felt when she was the one making it. The ****-maker fucking her body, penetrating her from behind and from the front. Throbbing with pleasure and crackling ecstasy as chains bound her tight and she was punished and rewarded simultaneously. She remembered the feeling of losing herself, of slowly sinking into the training that the machine **** upon her.

“I didn’t want to do this, you know,” she whispered softly. Still, she tried not to look at it. Still, the machine pulled on her like the moon with the ocean. “I didn’t want to see you like this. But it’s the only way. If I let you go, you’ll just cause more problems. You might not be able to make another Pump, but I know for a fact you can make something almost as strong. And you’d come after us again. You’d come after me.”

Finally, she surrendered to the pull. She allowed herself to look at the machine. The ****-maker was in full steam, throbbing and moving and jerking like a thing alive.

The trapped woman writhed. The scaffolding of chains and metal bent around her, holding her in place. Her spine arched, and her soft, needy whimpers filled the workshop.

Isabel’s pussy was soaking and swollen, her clit engorged, her hips were grinding mindlessly against the toy. A second artificial cock was fucking her from behind, together, the two bounced her back and forth, a relentless onslaught against her senses.

Isabel was wearing the goggles, her mind was being manipulated. Twisted in the same way that Kara’s had been. The thought did bring some guilt, but it also reminded her of how much pain her friend had caused.

“Did you think we’d let you get away?” Kara approached slowly, wrestling with her own feelings. Desire, guilt, remorse, anger, lust.

“Did you think we’d let you escape? If we kill you, you don’t have to pay anything back. If we leave you with Bennie, you’d what, spend the rest of your life in jail? What good is that? And if we just let you go, well, you’re a viper. You’d come back at us sooner or later. No doubt.”

She didn’t know if Isabel could hear her. The other women had been in the machine for almost a month. At first, she resisted, fighting and snarling against the invasion of her body. But now she was whimpering and moaning, her muscles twitching with every thrust, every penetration, every bursting flower of pleasure.

The sight left Kara’s throat dry. She was conflicted. Despite everything, she cared for Isabel. Yet also she felt angry. She’d been betrayed, hunted, captured, had her mind twisted and been tormented at her hand. She’d been humiliated and degraded, brought about as low as it was possible to be.

“It took me a lot of talking to get Richard to go along with this,” Kara whispered. She reached out, running one hand across Isabel’s sweat-slicked body. Her skin was so warm to the touch. Kara’s fingers traced a path that left her shivering. Something warm and tight beat in the pit of Kara’s stomach.

“It took a lot,” she went on. “But he doesn’t want to kill you either. He likes to play the cynical die-hard, but he’s really quite noble,” she gave a proud little smile. “Shooting an unarmed woman doesn’t sit well with him, even if that woman is an enemy. But he’s also not stupid enough to think it would end if we just dropped you somewhere. So even though he doesn’t like my solution, it really is the only one we have.”

Kara swallowed, wondering if she was talking to Isabel or herself. Was she explaining or was she justifying? Her hand fell slowly, tracing a path down across Isabel’s belly. The black-haired woman gave a shudder; her sensitive skin picking out Kara’s motion. There was only one place she could be going, but even so, Kara took her time to get there. Lazily descending, letting the tension build.

“When your programming is done,” Kara whispered, “you will be released. You’ll be given a second chance. You get that because you were my friend. It’s a chance that no one else did, certainly no one you turned your sights on. I hope you appreciate it.”

She paused, considering her next words carefully.

“We talked a lot about how much of you to leave intact. The machine is powerful, right? It could have ripped your mind to pieces. Built something totally new. Richard wanted to do that. He wanted to get rid of the old you totally. Drain the poison. But I wouldn’t let him. I know there was something good in you once. And I’m going to peel back the layers until I find it again. But you have to pay for what you did, Isabel. I can’t just let you go with no punishment. If you’re going to remember it, you’re also going to remember why it was bad.”

Kara’s fingers darted down, scuttling like spiders and closing around the bud of Isabel’s clit. The bound woman’s reaction was instant. She made a squeaking, gasping squeal and her body convulsed, a ragged, gasping moan escaped her throat. For the whole month she had been in the machine, she had not been allowed to cum once.

“You’re going to suffer the same fate you gave to so many other girls until I’m sure that you’ve learned your lesson.”

Isabel bucked, the machine fucked her, filling her pussy and her ass with relentless, endless thrusts. Her breasts bounced, and her body rocked. Drool trailed from the gag across her mouth, and her muscles were tense and ****.

“Think of it,” Kara toyed with her clit, mixing pain and pleasure. She jumped at each touch. “Think of how many girls you did this to. Think of how helpless they must have been. How **** for rescue. But rescue never came, did it? When you captured me, you boasted that I wasn’t the first. And I believe that. You were far too good at it for that to be your first try at breaking someone. This is what they felt, Isabel. This is the fate you handed them.”

Kara’s free hand moved to Isabel’s chest. Her breasts were firm and warm, pleasing to touch. The reaction from her body was obvious too. She stiffened at the contact. Kara knew just how to touch her to fill her with lust. Her body rocked, her hips grinding desperately, mindlessly into the toy. Vibrations thrummed through her, and tears trickled from inside of the goggles.

“Do you regret anything?” Kara asked. “Anything at all? Or are you only sorry that you got caught? I suppose by the time we’re done here, we’ll know for sure. Bear this in mind, Isabel. You’ll go free - eventually. That’s more than the girls you sold will ever get. But you’re going to be taught before that happens. You’re going to be trained and it won’t be pleasant.”

Kara turned away. Her own insides were churning. She felt heat boiling between her legs, a desire she hadn’t felt in a long time. A desire to dominate, to control. Helplessly, she wondered if she was really doing this for the right reason. Was it really to teach a lesson or was it just because she wanted to see Isabel like this? Because she missed the games they used to play?

“Tomorrow,” she said softly, “the programming should have taken. We’ll begin your real training then. I hope you’re ready for it because Richard and I have talked and we’re not going to show you any mercy.”