When Kara Met Isabel

This was what it was like to be inside the machine.

The rhythmic throbbing of her pussy as the dildo fucked her, expanding and shrinking in turn. When it filled her up, it made her groan and whine with its size. She would be pinned, helpless, her legs spread and her arms shackled. The machine would vary speeds, sometimes it would be slow, fucking her with long, deep motions until her pussy was soaking, her clit tight and aching and begging for release.

At other times, it would be fast. Fucking her savagely stealing away her breath, leaving her a drooling, quivering bundle of nerves as orgasm after orgasm roared through her.

Kara never knew which mode it would be in. Sometimes, it might be slow, holding her on the edge for hours and hours and hours until all she could think about was her **** need to cum like a whore. At other times, it would fuck her fast and hard, pounding her mind with such pleasure that she would not be able to think at all.

Through it all, she would be wearing the goggles. They would reach into her brain through her eyes, show her things, reinforce her programming. Fill her with desire to be nothing more than a ****.

How could she describe it to someone who had never felt it? It was like a mist, or a layer of static across her thoughts. The sensation that something or someone was reaching into her brain to reorder it. To make her what they wanted. She could have fought it…

But she didn’t. Not this time. Not only would she have lost if she had tried, but her mind was consumed by thoughts of other things.

Or one thing, anyway. One person.

Richard.

The memories of her time with him the night before were still strong upon her. Kara could taste his cock in her mouth still, the taste of his cum lingering on her tongue. As the machine fucked her and her body trembled with pleasure-fuelled convulsions, Kara could only fantasise like a schoolgirl that it was Richard doing it.

Richard, her master. Her owner.

Was it the coding making her think that? The programming from the goggles finally worming its way through her mind? Perhaps so. Perhaps it was. But she preferred to think otherwise.

She imagined his cock inside of her, penetrating the lips of her womanhood as she rose up and down upon him; her breasts dancing and her back arching with pleasure.

She imagined his hands at her chest, her fingers twisting and pulling her nipples, mixing pain with ecstasy as a little slut like her deserved.

What did she want to be to him? Even now, she didn’t know. It was all so confusing. She wanted to feel him inside of her; she wanted to fuck him, be used by him. Be punished by him. She wanted to be his toy, his ****, his chained, collared slut.

Was that the voice of the machine talking? Was it something the woman she had been before would say?

She didn’t know. Her thoughts were filled with confusion, self doubt, worry and fear. Was this something she wanted or something she was programmed to want? Did she like him or was it simply that he was her master, her owner, and she was coded to be loyal?

There were no answers and after a while, Kara let herself drift into the embrace of the machine. She sank into a sea of pleasure. Crying and moaning as her very senses were turned against her one by one. The instructions of the goggles hammered through her mind.

Be an obedient little slut.

Be a good little slut.

Do what you’re told.

Dignity is for other people.

Decency is for other people.

You are a **** and your value is your body.

Humiliation is your life.

Accept what you are.

“Richard….” She moaned as her body convulsed in the throes of yet another orgasm. “M-master…”

There was one difference between her state now and the way she had been when Richard had first found her. She wasn’t shackled to the machine. As the feeling got too much and the commanding presence of the programming hammered into her mind, Kara decided that she had had enough for now. She rose on trembling legs. Aching ecstasy trailed through her body. Her pussy was soaking, her nipples were so hard. The air caught in her throat as she pushed forward and one side of the crate fell away.

Shaking, soaking, Kara stumbled away from the machine. The goggles fell to the floor and a glance down at her choker told her she was charged enough to last for a while. She needed a break from it.

She didn’t want it to take who she was away from her again.

The inner cabin of the Nautiloid was bathed in warm, amber light. A row of brass controls sat near the front; a reinforced window gazing out at the dull iron wall of the docking bay. To her left, she saw a large table. Six seats were gathered around it. There were four lockers and a small sleeping area which contained three tiny beds.

Not exactly the most luxurious method of travel.

But that thought occurred only in the very back of her mind. Richard should have been here. They were supposed to be together at this point! It wasn’t like there was anywhere for him to hide in such a small ship, but…

The exit to the Nautiloid consisted of a single iron-rimmed portal. The door was thick and sturdy. Like the rest of the ship, it was meant to last. To survive crashes, collisions, even explosions if it had to.

“Are you looking for your friend?” Said a cold, high voice.

Kara shivered in a way that had nothing to do with a lack of warmth. The pilot’s chair swivelled to face her, a dark-haired woman sat in it. As her eyes fell on her, Kara felt a spark of something raging against her programming. An emotion she could neither place nor name.

“I almost thought you had been stupid enough to lock yourself into the machine again,” the woman said. “You were taking so long to come out. Either that or you’d been completely broken.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Isabel,” the woman gave a strange little smile. “I’m your master.”

“No…” Kara frowned. “That…that’s not right…”

“Temporary master if you want to be specific,” Isabel frowned. “But good enough for now. You’re coded to obey me until you’re delivered. Do you remember that?”

Kara stirred. She wanted to deny that, to laugh at the idea but the tone of the other woman’s voice, the sound of her words. It was reaching something inside of her. Her limbs felt weak, like a trance was unfolding across her body. The desire to obey growing stronger every moment.

“I see that you do,” Isabel laughed. “Or at least the part of you that matters does. You look cute naked, Kara. your pussy is dripping. A slut like you should be on her hands and knees, shouldn’t she? You shouldn’t be walking around like people. You’re not people.”

Each word was a lash against her mind. Each sentence a battering ram against her thoughts. The world around them had faded away, thoughts of Richard were now distant. Everything had come down to Kara and Isabel.

“You’re the one…” Kara said slowly. “The one who-”

“Who made you into what you are now,” Isabel said. “That’s right. Why don’t you get on your knees and thank me for it? Why don’t you eat me out while Mister Pump kills your friend?”

Kara flinched, the words were soft but delivered with power. An order was still an order even when whispered and her legs began to shake. They started to fold. Her eyes fell between Isabel’s legs and her thoughts filled with the desire to taste her pussy. One by one, she felt her barriers falling. Like a castle built on drifting sand, the desire to do as she was told blared through her.

Be a good slut!

Obey your orders!

Do as you’re told!

Obey!

Obey!

Kara shook her head, staggering back. Her knees were shaking, the muscles already trying to bend. One of her hands reached out to brace against the wall of the ship. Her heart was hammering, fuck, she wanted it so much! She wanted to do exactly as she was told! Her mind was haunted by visions of herself on her knees, her tongue licking at Isabel’s pussy. Tasting it, licking and sucking at it as Isabel ran a hand through her ginger hair and told her what a slut she was.

She wanted it so badly!

She wanted it more than anything else in the world!

Almost.

Images of Richard flowed through her mind; the night that they had shared together. The feeling of his hands against her body. Soft and warm and full of care. Commanding but not cruel. And as she remembered that, the desire to submit dimmed. It didn’t fade. She could still feel it thrashing against her mind, trying to **** compliance.

But she was not going to let it.

“No,” she growled, bracing herself and rising to her full height again. “You don’t have the power to make me do anything anymore.”

“Resistance?”

Isabel scolwed. She was clad in a red dress which clung to her body like a second skin. Her motion was sinuous, sensual. She wielded her sexuality like a hammer.

But Kara’s eyes were drawn to the slim but lethal barrel of the gun she was holding in her hands.

“My dear little slut, that wasn’t a request. Do it. Now.”

Again, the words hammered her. Like a storm of will, like a blast of intent that screeched across her mind. Kara blinked; she hadn’t realised the machine had gotten so deeply into her! Isabel’s command filled her, made her want to obey. Obedience was good. A slut should do as she was told. All she was good for was following orders.

Her body was shaking. Isabel was grinning, stalking towards her. Step by step, moment by moment. Like a predator with prey.

“Even if your training is incomplete,” Isabel spoke. “You still can’t resist, can you? A little whore like you has to do what she’s told. Admit it, it’s what you always wanted. All those years of stuck-up self-righteousness and all you really wanted to do was be an obedient slut for your master.”

“There’s just one problem with that,” Kara gasped, her body was shuddering, her muscles at war with themselves.

She sprung forward suddenly, the motion surprised them both. Kara had never felt like this before but even if her mind could not recall her past, her muscles did.

She slammed into the other woman, hand going for the gun. She twisted it upwards, smashing her arm backwards into the solid metal wall of the yacht. Isabel gave a cry of pain, the gun spun away.

Isabel lashed out, a vicious knee took Kara in the gut and pain filled her body. She backed away, wheezing a little, tears streamed from her eyes but she was glaring as she rose.

“You’re not my master.”

Isabel’s look of cold cruelty was gone now. It had been wiped away, replaced by such hatred and fury that Kara took a step back.

“You bitch,” Isabel whispered softly. “You absolute bitch. You always find a way to ruin things. Even now. But this is the end. You’re not getting away. No happy ending this time. You’re being sold as a whore. You’re going right to the people who will debase and **** you for the rest of your life. You’re going to suffer, an obedient little fucktoy as day by day who you were is stripped away and your legacy turns to mud!”

Kara had no idea what she was talking about. She had no idea what past she had with Isabel, what the other woman knew about her. Who she had been or what she had done.

But right now, she didn’t care about any of that.

“Do your best,” she growled.

Isabel came at her. Hard.