ALIENS
PRITCHARD 8000
by Gord

ALIENS
CONTENTS

Chapter							Page

1	ALIENS						5
2	THE VOYAGE					18
3	DREAM MAGIC					26
4	HELL HATH NO FURY			50
5	JEALOUSY						62
6	THE REUNION					67
7	FIONA MEETS THURSK			71
8	SKULDUGGERY					83
9	REVERSAL						97


PRITCHARD 8000

Chapter							Page

1	The Pritchard 8000				117
2	Trials of Life					121
3	The Incarceration				125
4	The Awakening					130
5	The Production	Line				136
6	Aversion Therapy				144
7	Unlimited Pleasure				148
8	The Miracle of Bionics			163
9	The Gilded Lady				166
10	The Glitch						171
11	Revelations					181
12	Inconceivable Conclusions			189


FOREWORD

Aliens was written several years ago; 1992 to be exact. Originally it was released by another publishing company in a much abridged version. As with this two story compilation, it was intended as a pilot story; with the short story Pritchard 8000 included to make up a full book.

This re-release of both stories by our own publishing company reveals the original unabridged versions, as written, but edited for grammatical errors, and hopefully presented in a more accomplished style. However, in doing this rewrite, I have deliberately resisted the temptation to update to my current style so as to maintain as much as possible of the original raw style of early Gord.

Aliens, the pilot, now has a series of companions, comprising of:

Aliens
Starburst One 
Thyros Bound 
Trylon 31

As with most of my series works, the saga originally began as a relatively tame bondage adventure, but then the plot line grew to be increasingly bizarre and daring as the series developed.


ALIENS
CHAPTER ONE

The cool evening air was a welcome relief as it blew through the open side window and ruffled her long silken tresses. Brushing rogue strands from her eyes, Tracy reached down and tried to re-tune the fizzling, spluttering Motorola mounted in the dash. For several minutes, strange atmospherics had been playing havoc with reception of her favourite local radio station, and to her annoyance, blanking out the last half of her personal top of the pops. A pothole in the dusty desert road made her snatch the hand back and pull the battered old Dodge back into line as its old worn suspension and virtually non existent shock-absorbers engineered a wallowing weave that took in most of the road.

Cursing out loud, she saw David's new magazines slide from the passenger seat to land on the dust laden floor. Correcting the cavorting Dodge, Tracy reached over and began to pick them up, blowing the dust from their pristine covers as she placed them into her open shopping bag. David would be furious if his new 'girly' mags arrived in anything other than mint condition. Apart from which, she wanted to look at them herself. The last magazine dropped safely into the bag as the old pick-up crested the rise. Looking up from her task, Tracy felt her body freeze as a huge shining metal tower less than thirty feet away loomed ominously in the centre of the road.

She stood on the brakes, but was already aware of the fact that an additional hundred and fifty yards would still be cutting it fine for bringing the Dodge to a stop... especially as she knew that three of the wheels only had polished steel for brake pads.

Frozen with horror she watched the monolith looming closer through the cracked, dust smeared windscreen as the pick-up slowed slightly amidst a scream of metal to metal; the pads were melting into the discs as they fought to grip. Less than fifteen feet separated truck and monolith as Tracy came out of her paralysis and swung the wheel over. With a ear- rending cacophony of tortured rusty steel, the Dodge ricocheted from the solid mass in its path, tearing off both wing and passenger door, smashing the wheel and suspension into a pile of dragging junk as it careered past and on into the ditch. Tracy was flung violently against the seat belt; thankfully, one of the functional items in the cab. The belt snapped taut knocking the breath from her body when the Dodge ploughed into a bank of sand. Fortunately the mini dune absorbed most of the impact.

Winded, she stared with glazed eyes at the cloud of steam gushing from a smashed radiator. Then, slowly recovering her breath, Tracy directed attention back to the cause of her crash. Her eyes widened in disbelief and her incredulous gaze travelled up the shining pillar of steel. Craning her neck, she tried to follow it upward, until at last the monolith ended in the curve of a massive polished sphere, finally disappearing from sight at the extremities of her shattered windscreen. Frozen with fear she remained still in her contorted position, staring upward with astonished and uncomprehending eyes as her mind tried to relate this colossus to anything she had ever seen. She was still trying to evaluate what she saw when a slight movement in the corner of her peripheral vision brought her attention back to earth.

Half fearful of what she might see, Tracy slowly turned her head to the source of the movement and felt a chill grip her body at what she saw. Standing not ten feet from the wrecked truck were two angular squat figures dressed in what could only be described as kitchen foil overalls. Their features, although basically human, were strangely faceted, almost like one of those computer generated faces used for pop videos. And yet, although they were definitely weird, Tracy felt strangely attracted to them and found her fear melting away.

The nearest figure raised a hand and made beckoning motions to her; repeating them when she sat unmoving. Tracy considered her options. There were none. She had no weapons of any kind, nor was there a phone box closer than fifty miles. Their ranch and husband David were another eighty miles away. Her mind made up, and in a typically female way, she paused to collect the handbag and shopping before clambering out of the wreck.

At first they all stood just looking at each other. Then, plucking up her courage, Tracy began to walk cautiously towards them. As she approached there was still an uncanny sense of welcome and friendship as she approached their suited forms. Only a few feet separated them when the hand of one of the figures rose. With a returning feeling of overwhelming fear, Tracy saw that it held what appeared to be a strange gun.

A pale beam of light sprang from the device and enveloped her body as she turned to run; .. a flight that was never completed. Her body seemed to turn to stone and refuse to move. Slowly, folding to the ground with complete loss of muscular control, she lay still.

Stunned by the ray, Tracy found that although fully conscious and in no pain, she couldn't move a muscle. With a sense of dread, she found herself forced to watch the approach of the suited humanoids. For a while they stood and discussed her paralysed body in an unintelligible tongue, then as if deciding on a course of action, stooped and lifted her between them.

Silently she screamed. The actual sounds were frozen into silence by her paralysed larynx as they moved towards the steel leg of the vessel firmly in the road.

As they approached it, she saw a panel slide smoothly open at the base. Taking care not to bump her against the entrance they placed her on the cool metal floor within. Then, as if having a second thought, one hesitated and disappeared back out through the portal, returning shortly after with Tracy's discarded bags in his hand. The portal hissed and slid smoothly closed. Instantly there was a feeling like that of an ultra fast express elevator as they began to rocket up the inside of the leg. However, they weren't being borne aloft by the rising floor, but rather by some unseen force that lifted their bodies in free flight.

With a gut wrenching deceleration they arrived at the upper level. Still shrieking inwardly with terror, Tracy hung limply in their arms as they carried her into a softly lit interior.

Without hesitation, they laid her down on a padded couch affair and began to strip her clothing; an act that mentally stunned the paralysed Tracy.

Intergalactic Rapists? This couldn't be happening! It had to be a crazy dream.

She felt her body being pulled about like a limp rag as the clothes were removed. The embarrassment and fear reached new heights as the final item slid down her legs revealing the whole of her gleaming perspiration coated body. She was open and available to the eagerly wandering eyes of her molesters, and any other activity they chose to indulge in.. Several minutes passed as they poked and prodded; although to Tracy, it seemed hours. But they were merely indulging their curiosity, and even though they spoke in a strange language, it rapidly became apparent that the language of lust was universal as they studied her curving helplessness with appreciative lecherous eyes.

Unable to affect any defence, Tracy's mind shot off at a tangent. As they studied her form, she began to study them. Crazy thoughts crowded her mind as she appraised their odd shape.

I wonder if their sexual organs are the same angular shapes?.. 

Will it hurt when they rape me? Do they do it the same way? Her thoughts were interrupted as the humanoids seemed to shake off their rising carnal urges and become businesslike again.

Lifting her naked and helpless body between them, they carried her over to a strange "T" shaped pole set in an alcove at the side of the chamber. Unlike the rest of the smoothly contoured and purpose built items of equipment, this thing looked like some sort of hurriedly assembled makeshift arrangement. She was still pondering that when she realised that they where lowering her face down over the ‘T”.

Her limp form was allowed to fold at the hips as she was draped across on to the crosspiece at its upper extremity. Whilst one held her in place, the other pulled dangling ankles close to the base of the pole and fastened them to the unyielding metal pole with a broad flexible metal band that was cinched tightly into place. Once that was done to their satisfaction, her limp wrists received the same treatment so that she was held doubled over the top of the "T".

More metal bands were placed at intervals down the length of her doubled form and each in turn tightened so that with increasing severity her body was welded into a single folded pillar. Her buttocks formed the showpiece at the top of her bound form, trimmed with the intimate openings of her body, and gloriously displayed for all to see.

With a slight sense of relief Tracy realised that whatever the ray was, its effect appeared to be more than immobilisation. A realisation that her body appeared to be ultra flexible and completely without pain dawned upon her as the humanoid's forced a huge ball shaped device with an attendant tube into her unresisting mouth and held it in place with a form fitting hood of some type. For a second or two, Tracy suffered claustrophobic misgivings. The only openings seemed to be around her nose and eyes; elsewhere she could feel her entire head being swallowed by the tight form fitting cover. Panic welled in her demobilised form, then upon realising that she could breath despite the fact that her mouth was filled, her mind finally managed to rationalise the fear and regain a modicum of control.

Image 1

With a whirring noise, a piece of machinery standing nearby came to life, and as a shadow fell over her, she strained her eyes upward from the enforced position.

Tracy was able to see for a short time as a black tube of some sort of rubberised material descended around her doubled body... But its steady advance reduced her field of vision to zero when it finally reached her mated ankles and wrists at the bottom of the pole.

Mechanical arms inside the tube seemed to be stretching it wider than her body, but then they began to move inwards allowing the neck of tautly stretched rubber to snug onto her ankles and grip tight. The arms began to retract upwards progressively inducing the rubber to slide off the polished metal prongs in smooth sliding motion, almost flowing the shrinking tube onto her form as it rose. When they finally withdrew, with the exception of the taut stretched lobes of her buttocks, Tracy was totally enclosed in a tight sheath of synthetic material reaching down to the base of her mounting. Despite the fact that she couldn't see the final effect, Tracy had a mental image of the view that did little to ease the disquiet of her thoughts.

Hitherto unrealised masochistic instincts began to stir as she contemplated the lustful form she must be presenting to the outside world. No doubt the complete absence of pain was making her enjoyment of the situation even more erotic. A total inability to tense or move her displayed charms enhanced the flood of feelings coursing through her and became a source of torment due to denial. Perhaps it was the novelty of how they intended to plunder her restrained form that swelled her offered labia with a feeling of warmth and longing.

As she struggled with this inner torment, gloved fingers began to attach unseen items to the sensitive areas of her inner thighs and the cleft of her buttocks in a line running past both sides of her offered charms. The soft touch of their attentions only served to fuel her rising lust.

With the fixing of these objects finished, the aliens turned to larger and somewhat more personal items. With bubbling unreleased arousal, Tracy felt the flesh covered hardness of her pubic bone nuzzled by a smooth cool object. There was an increasing pressure against the blood engorged labial mounds, which after an initial refusal admitted defeat as the insistent pressure overcame the natural elasticity of her love portal. Her sex mouth opened and began to swallow almost hungrily. Tracy gasped into her gag as something huge began to slide into her rapidly lubricating orifice. Penetrating, stretching and tantalising, it intruded further and further into her interior, filling her lower body deliciously as it forcibly dilated her inner sanctum with a gentle, yet irresistible advance.

Soon it was buried deep into her warm silky passage, and she felt her widely stretched love lips closing so as to engulf the intruder and close around a thin cable attached to the outer end. The involuntary spasm of contraction only served to enhance the unyielding stiffness of the insert. There was a slight sensation of pain, lasting for a brief second before her rising lust anaesthetised it into non existence... A clamp of some sort had been added, and the fleshy lips of her delicate portal were drawn tightly around the intruder like the neck of a purse. She was sealed so as to imprison the smooth pussy stretching invader. Her semi welcomed internal passenger was soon to be joined by a neighbour as the tight ring of her anus gave way under the onslaught of another burrowing mole.

Impotently, Tracy's thoroughly plugged body responded in carnal thought. Her entire being seemed to be saturated with a yearning for the pleasure that an elusive cataclysm of orgasm could bring; if only she weren't paralysed. She almost swooned as her offered clitoris was swallowed by some sort of vacuum tube, and felt tremors run through her form that even the ray's effect could not suppress. The suckling clitoris tube continued to move slightly as connections were made, its continued support being her now engorged and throbbing sex trigger; stiff and straight as it pointed the tube to the ceiling.

Why? Oh! Why had she not been born on their alien planet? What a pleasure it must be to be one of their wives if this is how they took their women. This was an unbelievably erotic way to be secured and ravished. David's efforts at bondage paled into insignificance as she revelled in her contorted plight. Topping her helpless form, a blatantly presented rear end felt like a flashing beacon; a licentious neon display, beckoning all who were present to avail themselves of her displayed and available womanhood.

Time passed as she fantasised. She was only vaguely aware of her captors as they busied themselves connecting leads from the computer like machine to the electrodes sensors and plugs her body was playing host to.

Tracy was so engrossed in her fantasising that she was unaware of the reduction of outside sound to zero until some time later. A large glass- like container had been lowered over her immobilised form and twist locked to the mounting base of the 'T' shaped bar.

Unseen and unheard by their captive, the aliens returned to the control panel, where, after a series of adjustments, one of them threw a switch. They both turned back to look at their captive with in anticipation of the desired results.

Tracy experienced a strange feeling all over her body; not unlike a mild case of pins and needles. Then, with a feeling of elation, she realised that the paralysis had gone. Her muscles were once more under her own control. - Relatively speaking that is! It was immediately obvious that the steel bands and constricting tube sheath were not going to allow very much in the way of exercise. Amazingly, she still had no sensation of pain. In fact her body had never felt so good.

These comforting thoughts were interrupted by a metallic voice in her ears, the product of some form of electronic translator, in effect converted their own incomprehensible jabber into words she could recognise. Obviously the helmet around her head had some kind of earphones built into it.

"Woman of Earth, we regret your abduction, but is was necessary for us to return home. Our vessel has been damaged and part of our drive. system destroyed."

There was a pause before the voice continued.

"The part no longer operating was a modulator unit which gives off a special frequency of Alpha-wave used to control our very powerful fuel elements. Without this control and input of Alpha-waves our propulsion system will not work. It is useless."

The metallic voice faltered again as it searched for compatible words that would convert into the language it was forced to communicate with. Then, finding the correct words, the translator machine continued in its impersonal mechanised tone.

"Fortunately we have discovered another natural source for these waves which can be controlled... That source is the Earth Female species.

From our calculations we have deduced that the female gives off waves of the correct frequency only at a certain time; the period immediately before you experience what you call orgasm." 

Tracy pondered the significance of this world shattering revelation. She was only mildly surprised that her female body was capable of another feat, as yet undreamed of by the male of her species and in particular her inventive husband David. Suddenly the humanoid was speaking again'. 

"We have now connected your form to our computer, which will feed you by introducing a special gas into your confinement vessel. This gas contains all nutrients required for healthy life and has the added effect of preventing ageing in your body. The computer will also, by means of electrical impulses, exercise all muscles to keep them in good order.

Similar impulses will be fed to your brain centres and sexual regions to stimulate your arousal, at the same time collecting the Alpha- waves you produce for our use. As this arousal appears to be enjoyable for you, we are sure you will not mind. An added bonus is that we can prevent the muscle movement you call orgasm and thus prevent your enjoyment ending, and at the same time guarantee a constant supple of Alpha-waves to our fuel cells."

Tracy tried to evaluate all this information, but before she could arrive at a conclusion the voice once again interrupted her thoughts.

"The journey to our world will take four years by your Earth time, so we will be in a state of suspended animation for the duration.... You on the other hand will be cared for by the computer."

"We will speak again when we arrive at our destination woman of Earth."

With that, the humming in her ear stopped as the transmission ended, leaving Tracy's mind in a whirl as she digested the contents of their speech. Then with an ever increasing alarm she began to struggle against her restraints as the full impact hit her. "The fools! .. They didn't understand! They were going to keep her in permanent arousal for several years with no hope of reaching her climax.

MMUUUUUPHHH! The breath exploded from her flaring nostrils as massive feeling of pleasure pulsed through her straining form. With dismay, she realised that the computer was already in control. There was no way she could resist as it fed electrical impulses into the stimulation centres of her brain.

The pubic lips and clitoris forming the pinnacle of her fettered form began to pulse and pout with a mind of their own, powerless to resist in the manipulative insistence of powerful electrically induced muscle spasms. Whilst deep within her body, the two metallic intruders began to vibrate her sensitive orifices as her body responded to the onslaught of gigantic waves of pleasure rippling and shaping her straining body. But they weren't just vibrators. The delicate walls of her tubular inlets were being subjected to immensely pleasurable electronic stimulation. A groan of pure ecstasy filtered through the gag as yet another revelation made itself felt. The stiff insert was not only vibrating, but had begun to expand and contract in a steady cycle. As if that wasn't enough, it then supplemented the pulsing membrane massaging mode with a slow squirming wriggle.

The aliens seemed completely unconcerned by the titanic writhing convulsions of the bound woman. They were too busy checking the steady build up of power as the powerful plasma engines warmed up. Pausing in the complex pre-thrust purge procedure, they took time to study the gauge above the mounted Tracy and as they watched they saw her horrendously orchestrated carnal output steadily advancing the needle towards the red sector indicating dangerous levels of activity.

Satisfied with the results of their makeshift modulator and its performance, they slowly increased the demand on Tracy's body as they lifted the great machine from the surface and powered the vessel up to full speed. 

The form inside the glass containment became a mass of writhing pumping longing womanhood as the computer excited her beyond normal human capabilities. At the same time it was suppressing all brain activity that could trigger an orgasm and cause the flow of Alpha-waves to reduce. Tracy's rubber encapsulated form literally pulsed with contained carnal energy.

The aliens looked puzzled as they struggled to decipher the strange language of this Earth woman. Then, deciding it wasn't important, they left for their sleeping capsules.

The compartment echoed with a strange sound.

MMMMMUHHHH!

MMMRRRRRRR!

MMMMPPPHH! MMMMMMMMMMMMMPPPHHHH --!

Like a capped volcano, Tracy strained valiantly in futile frenzied efforts as her lust escalated to unbearable, excruciating levels of tormented denial. The enormity of the pleasure flow curled her toes, forcing gasps of breath from her filled mouth. Already her seething body was longing desperately for release from torment as the long journey began.

Automatically the computer powered down all unnecessary equipment for the journey. As the lights in the compartment dimmed, it could be seen that the gas surrounding Tracy in her glass container had begun to give off a strange pulsing soft blue light as the power generated within her straining form ionised the life giving ether of her private environment. For all the world, she now resembled a huge gently pulsing electronic valve, the soft throbbing glow giving little indication of the traumatic screaming denial that produced such a pleasing display.

With the crew asleep and the Earth dwindling rapidly to a dot in the star studded void, the computer made all calculations required to guide them through the vastness of space, and in doing so, avoid all heavenly bodies in their path.

The Sun loomed large in its sensors and, calculating the extra power required to pass by this monster without being drawn down into the massive gravitational field, the computer fed more and more stimulation to the makeshift Alfa Modulator. It was impervious to the frenzied activity of the captive female, yet sensed the massive surge in power as the human valve glowed with incandescent ferocity, bathing the control panel in an unearthly pale light. Whilst within the glass container Tracy became a totally controlled undulating mass of indescribable pleasure and torment. 

The gauge above her momentarily ventured into the red zone as great surges of erotic output tortured her desperately longing body, but the computer expertly adjusted the stimulation to prevent a premature orgasmic event.

✠	✠	✠

Chapter Two
The Voyage

Time passed slowly as the great ship sped through the void, whilst deep in its bowels a benevolent computer looked after a captive charge. 

At intervals in their passage, the computer would induce a semi trance- like state in Tracy's mind to simulate sleep. Simultaneously, it would continue to stimulate her nether regions and maintain the all important flow of Alpha-waves. The result left Tracy drifting in a dream world of pleasure, oblivious to her trussed and writhing form as she savoured the hot lustful waves of energy in her nether regions. A small oversight in the initial planning resulted in dehydration to due the colossal fluid loss inherent in love syrup leaking continuously from an overworked pussy. But the computer quickly overcame that problem by collecting, recycling, and reintroducing the fluid as a breathable moisture content in the female's gaseous nutrient supply. It may well have been the first time a woman ever breathed her own carnal secretions, but then Tracy was hardly in a position to complain about the food.

However, the computer went further in the prime directive to protect and preserve its charge, and on the many occasions when full potential was not required for the day to day running of the ship, it continually scanned data banks for every morsel of information available on the female of the Earth species.

This was no ordinary computer. It was in fact the most advanced form of artificial intelligence in the known universe. Unlike its cousins on Earth and many other planets, it was not entirely of the silicone chip variety. The complex matrix of brain contained living organisms cultured by the aliens to perform similar functions to the almighty chip... 'But with a vital difference'. This computer had the power to reason. It was in effect self aware; albeit in a crude sort of way.

Even that modicum of life endowed it with a natural desire to search for information, to feel a sort of compassion, and above all, make decisions not based entirely on mathematical logic. It was this unique feature that inspired the quest for knowledge about the function of the captive humanoid Alpha-Modulator, 'Tracy'

Given the vast store of uncharted knowledge stored in the form of a human female, the computer unwittingly embarked upon a research project that would ultimately enhance its living qualities to those of a full biological, thinking, reasoning life form; with unfortunately, a fair share of illogical, irrational thought patterns that were inherent in the gender of the species under study.

Intrigued by the anomaly of this woman's seemingly wilful surrender to these feelings of pleasure called arousal, the computer tried to understand her longing for fulfillment. Under normal circumstances, the natural progression of such intimate feelings could only lead to a series of muscle contractions in the sexual organs, called orgasm by the earth beings. Thursk somehow liked that word, it sort of rolled around the micro chips with a pleasurable feel to it. Orgasm it seemed, was a condition that could, according to all its calculations and an in depth study of human response, only be equated as pain or muscle cramp. The logic of this defeated the computer's understanding of the human form. Why should any living creature wish to inflict pain on itself.

Image 2

As the years passed, the brain continued the search and compilation of data, all the time monitoring the pulsing writhing woman in her glass prison, analysing every small muscle contraction in response to irresistible demands. Then the electronic brain began experimenting with different levels and areas of stimulation, finally perfecting a technique that produced maximum response with very little input. But the journey was drawing to a close, and as the ship finally neared the planet of their destination the computer felt sure it understood... The great question was almost answered. Only one final test remained and this required the symbiotic linking of its great much enhanced brain with that of the Earth female so that it may experience this unique phenomena in person and share in her joy as it deciphered this intriguing question.

Impatiently; .. as a new idiosyncrasy was gleaned from the Earth female, the computer manoeuvred the ship into a descent orbit, a task normally undertaken by the crew, who at present had been left in their suspended state so the computer might carry out the great experiment without risk of interruption.

Steadily the ship was turned and the modulator that was Tracy, unaware that her torment was almost over, was brought up to full power when the vessel dipped gracefully towards a floodlit landing pad. Unmindfull of the massively increased yet effectively muffled audio output from the squirming object in the modulator container, Thursk concentrated on the task ahead.

Landing with the gentleness of a falling feather, the mighty vessel settled onto the pad of Exon's space centre. The computer switched off all stimulation to Tracy's rippling form and prepared for the link with her mind.

In a dazed state, Tracy's mind registered for the first time in aeons that her body was still. The craving in her desperately denied mound had gone and all was at peace. There was a strange tingling throughout her fettered form that heralded a change in status, best described as an awareness of vast reserves of knowledge about things she had never known or seen. She had become endowed with an ability to carry out impossible calculations in a split second. Strangest of all was the perception that she was not alone as feelings of togetherness with another mind invaded her consciousness.

As she pondered this strange feeling the first sensations of arousal began to niggle at her body. But not as before! Not a demanding craving want. - More like a coaxing soothing tingling. It was creeping over her in a blanket of pleasure and well being. Her nipples and breasts were being caressed with infinite care by the electrodes and sensors attached to them. Above, her folded torso and fluttering pubic lips were gently beginning to pulse as the electronic impulses passed through them; slowly increasing in intensity as her arousal took hold and the sensations inexorably progressed to a more urgent intensity. Within, the vibrators quietly purred into action. Not continuously, but rising and falling in surges, sending waves of erotic pleasure through her body; simulating the gentle thrusts of a passionate lover and pushing her closer and closer to the ultimate experience.

She realised that something was different. This was not the raw, powerful, irresistible, surge of pleasure she had become accustomed to; surges that were crude and basic in their demands. This was subtle, gentle coercion. A tender caress; a crude attempt at wooing and enticing; something seemingly totally out of character. And then she understood and marvelled in her trance like state. Her master, or whoever controlled her from outside this tight world of steel and rubber was making passionate love to her.

The computer continued its program. Every small detail of the vast store of knowledge about her was used to build her arousal. Sensors feeding back information analysed her every need and fantasy, instantly instigating minute changes every second so that nothing should spoil her climb to fulfillment. It was a gently rising slope of ecstasy that was marinating her whole form in a sensuous envelope of pure joy.

Finally she was there! - She was ready! Her body was boiling with licentious energy and exquisite pleasure, waiting, longing for that final moment when her lust erupted from the boiling crater of her offered sexual volcano and flooded her whole being. Gone was the frenzied writhing; to be replaced by a flowing morass of undulating carnally orchestrated muscle effort that was pushing the gauge above firmly into the red danger zone. 

The computer waited! Two minutes - three minutes - four minutes, It waited!.. Allowing her to seethe and simmer with the heat of the pent up power contained within her coming orgasm. Desperately, Tracy mentally urged it to continue. Her body was poised on the edge of a sexual precipice; yet somehow she felt secure in the knowledge that this time her craving would not be denied. The long awaited relief from the burning torment within was imminent.

The computer however, was undecided. Incoming signals of pleasure it felt seemed infinitely preferable to the awesome ferocity of the approaching uncharted orgasmic hurricane predicted by unproven calculations. But finally the biological components of its great brain overwhelmed the logical lifeless microchip's. The computer was unable to suppress the insatiable craving for knowledge any longer. It removed the blocking signals to her brain that had prevented her fulfillment over the long years, then replaced the denial with signals to stimulate these very same centres. It was a reversal that had all the impact of a sledgehammer blow to the helpless recipient.

The needle of the gauge slammed against the end stop and quivered with effort as it attempted to go further A quavering drawn out wail of ecstasy seeped through the glass of Tracy's confinement as the long awaited moment finally arrived. The gas surrounding her bound form glowed in an eerie incandescent light as the power absorption from her titanic convulsions ionised and charged busy molecules with an urgent energy. Gone was the relatively constant blue light of her long incarceration. Instead the glass tube pulsed with a varying, constantly changing kaleidoscope of rainbow tinted hues; flickering from a startling electric blue through all the colours of the spectrum to a glowing warm orange. The rapidly changing frequency of her carnal output was altering the electrical charge of the surrounding gaseous envelope swirling tenuously around her writhing form.

The effect was a stunning pictorial image of rapturous enjoyment, mimicking the invisible waves of indescribable pleasure flowing through Tracy's body. ... A momentous event displayed in an unprecedented, nebulously beautiful way; as was befitting such an unparalleled, exquisitely sensuous moment. 

Tracy bucked and writhed as the orgasm smashed into her. A hurricane of indescribable pleasure was pummelling her captive form; bending, straining, wringing every last once of pleasure from her beleaguered body in a whirlwind of colossal orgasmic power. The final eruption stiffened her with its cataclysmic energy, holding her paralysed with its body- destroying intensity. Then ebbing slowly, the paroxysms of pleasure began to wane. Finally, with a dying breath, the pleasure demon within shook her body in a violent shuddering motion before slowly slipping away into the twilight of her tranquil mind. The computer was still. Lights and gauges darkened as the equivalent of an electronic faint stunned the great brain, leaving woman and machine drifting together in the ether of semiconsciousness.

Slowly returning to normal function, the computer realised that they had landed. With the equivalent of an electronic sigh, Thursk began to revive the slumbering crew members whilst reverting to the boring chore of ship- minder and flight attendant as it began to close down all ancillary equipment.

A rather puzzled pair of crewmen appeared in the control room some ten minutes later and began to dismantle Tracy's four year confinement vessel. The work stopped as they gazed in wonderment at the needle of the output gauge. It was bent and solidly jammed against the end stop; a silent testament to the titanic output her trussed form had achieved during the final moments of release from denial.

Stiffly, her body was carefully unfolded from the mounting stand and laid carefully on the deck as her own bodily control began to reassert itself. The computer had done its work well. With the exception of a slight giddiness, she was in perfect condition. The electro-stimulation of bound muscles had proved successful in maintaining them without any discernible wasting or loss of vitality.

As soon as Tracy could stand the crewman fitted her naked body into a lightweight coverall type garment and motioned for her to follow them out of the compartment. But as she made to leave, Tracy stopped and turned to the computer with a smile on her face. Gently, she ran her hand over the top of the control panel as she faced her master for the first time. 

A perplexed crew stared at the machine as its lights flickered and dimmed for an instant. Masses of garbled nonsense cluttered the glowing display screens before returning to their normal busy activity. They were further confounded as a message appeared on the visual display unit in a language which Tracy could not read. If she had been able, it would have been interesting to hear her reply.

The message read:

Earth Female required to be reinstalled as Modulator unit at later date for further evaluation.

The great electronic mind now understood and wanted more. It was no longer a machine. It had crossed the divide twixt true life and an inanimate object. It had become a being in its own right! It was a living feeling entity entrusted with one of the great secrets of the universe. The human female orgasm! Now the computer understood the beauty of life and had experienced what no other machine and even many mortal men could only imagine. But most importantly, it had a secret that even its creators knew nothing of.

During her long incarceration, Tracy's brain had been altered subtly. Now the machine could communicate directly with its beloved modulator component without recourse to the cumbersome wires and electrodes she had recently endured. There was a telepathic link!

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Chapter 3
Dream Magic

Tracy was escorted from the ship and led into a type of terminal building where a throng of the suited alien figures chattered excitedly as they studied her strange appearance. The smooth uninterrupted lines of her body and graceful movement all visible through the tight fitting skin of the coverall suit, were something completely in contrast to their own angular and chunky frames. Hands tentatively touched her, and voices expressed excitement in their strange tongue at this apparition of beauty as she was ushered through an archway by her former captors, and onward into a large room.

Her captors paused at the doorway and operated some kind of switch causing the door of the room to swish shut, thus leaving her supposedly a captive once more. Tracy accepted the situation without complaint. Somehow she felt that they meant her no harm. She relaxed and took time to explore her new home, conscious of the fact that she was almost certainly being studied from the outside.

Her feelings were in fact correct, and in addition to surveillance of her in the compartment, the aliens were at this very minute scanning the contents of her two bags. - Especially the shopping bag! The contents of which were studied with some puzzlement as they gazed in wonderment at David's bondage magazines and the helpless females depicted within. This was indeed a strange life form they concluded... One which enjoys captivity!.. One that would require very careful handling in order to cater to her needs and ensure her well being. The Earth woman had served them well; she had brought home two of their own who were stranded. The hospitality of Exon should mirror the feelings of gratitude they felt towards her.

To help them assess her needs, they called on the considerable data stored in the computer on board the ship. Its real designation was unpronounceable in English, the nearest equivalent being 'Thursk'. As it revealed the data stored, they marvelled at its detailed analysis. But 'Thursk' was not telling all. The secret of their telepathic joining remained within the impassive metallic exterior as it planned Tracy's future enjoyment. Thursk's link was a two way thing, and it had learned to be devious. It had a good tutor, a female of the Earth species called humans.

Meanwhile, having explored her quarters, Tracy took advantage of the large soft pad in the centre of the room obviously intended as a bed. Stripping off the tight suit, she lay out in all her naked beauty and relaxed from the tension of the last few hours. She was completely unaware that an artificial intelligence was already taking a hand in her future as Thursk gently triggered the sleep centres of her brain using the new telepathic link forged during her long incarceration.

Exhausted, she drifted into a deep sleep; oblivious to the alien eyes studying her naked body as she languished on the bed. Within minutes she was at complete rest, slumbering deeply in a world of total well being. Meanwhile, her unseen voyeurs marvelled at the feline grace of the Earth creature as it flowed provocatively, flexing and moaning softly, in complete harmony with the pleasant sensations of her dream world.

Thursk now began to tickle the arousal centres of her mind with infinite care; teasing, coercing, stimulating, skilfully creating a dream fantasy of sex. He began meticulously recording every detail of its nebulous construction and the reaction as Tracy dreamed on. It was a puzzling picture with her masochistic instincts imagining her on public display to the thronging crowds, paraded bound and gagged through the streets of this alien world for all to see. Resplendent in a provocative bondage regalia, the dream unfolded as she was leashed and led by a robot towing vehicle. Then having been thoroughly displayed, her captive form was ensconced in a form fitting, gleaming metal casing and installed like a statue on the steps of a public building. As her dream progressed, Thursk continued monitoring. There were strange and indefinable feelings of pleasure invading his circuits as he envisaged her delight when she awoke in the morning to discover his scheme.

Tracy awoke feeling refreshed and pleasantly relaxed as she lay and ran her mind over the situation she found herself in, her thoughts briefly interrupted by the entrance of two aliens with a selection of food. After a few tentative tests, she found it to be quite pleasant and palatable. She soon made short work of the entire meal; barely finishing the last mouthful as the attendants returned.

Gently, they indicated for her to stand. Then, leading her to a kind of cubicle, they motioned for her to enter. Tracy gingerly stepped in and was instantly sprayed with a pleasantly warm perfumed liquid. A sense of relief flowed over her as she realised that this was their equivalent of a shower. Relaxing inwardly, she undulated her body under the luxuriance of her first shower in four years. The female attendants soothingly began to wash her body as she bathed in the gentle spray, and Tracy found herself enjoying the touch of other women. It was so gentle and finely attuned to her mood; completely in contrast to the strong, almost rough handling, of the average male.

Her bathing completed, they dried her, and whilst one commenced to put make up on her face, the other groomed her hair to a silky flowing main. Tracy bathed in the pleasant relaxing sensations created by the woman gently tugging at her hair, and as she daydreamed, her eyes roamed over the items within her range of vision.

The toiletries and make-up were an astonishingly accurate copy of her own back on Earth; courtesy of Thursk, who had searched her memory for details of their construction and his data banks on Earth pharmaceutical's. But Tracy wasn't to know that, and she could hardly credit the speculation that two such distant civilisations had evolved so closely. The tugging ceased. Sensing a new development, Tracy brought her meandering thoughts back to the present.

Their task complete, the attendants produced what appeared to be her clothing, the appearance of which caused a distinct uneasiness in Tracy as she viewed the garments. It was like a Deja vu experience. These were without doubt the same garments of her previous night's dream, accurate to the finest detail. Rising, she stood still and pondered as they fed her feet into the hosiery and stroked the strange synthetic fishnet tights up her legs. They were not ordinary tights, although at a glance they appeared so. The feel of them was powerful and strong. Thursk had modified them to a level unattainable on Earth; a format that pandered to her secret fantasies. As they warmed with her body heat, Tracy could feel them shrinking tightly to her form, compacting and extruding her succulent flesh in a million tiny ultra sensitive diamonds of stressed skin. The crushing embrace felt wonderful.

Next to be fitted was a topless Basque that sculpted her torso to an hour-glass perfection. Skyscraper stiletto shoes offered for her approval, completed the transformation.

The feeling that it was all an illusion increased as her hands were drawn behind her and polished metal manacles snapped around her wrists and upper arms, drawing her shoulders back and thrusting out her ample breasts. It was all so fast she hardly had time to react before the aliens rendered her helpless. Strangely she didn't feel the urge to protest or even struggle as a tall polished collar was locked about her neck, or when manacles with a short hobble chain were fastened around her ankles. Fettered and bewildered, she stood helpless and displayed; her thrusting breasts suddenly tingling with a sense of vulnerability as she realised that there was no way she could cup and guard them from uninvited attention. The Basque's boned undercupping offered them like ripe luscious melons just asking to be tested for firmness by anyone shopping for freely available fully mature woman-fruits. The lift was sufficient to ensure that her own breasts were always within peripheral vision as a constant reminder of their availability.

Gently prising open her semi reluctant mouth they slid a large padded gag between her teeth. The massive insert stretched her jaw to its utmost as a wide head encircling strap was buckled behind and drew it deeper into her mouth; effectively bisecting her face and bulging tightly cinched cheeks over the top. Somehow the sensation of losing that last vestige of defence created a searing heat in her crotch.

Confused at the conflicting emotions running through her trembling body, Tracy caught sight of herself in a large mirror on the wall. It was like seeing a dream... Her dream! Exact in every detail; from the superbly fitting tights to her polished restraints. All was the same!

A shudder of anticipation ran through her body as the remainder of her nocturnal fantasy flashed into her mind. But no sooner had she thought of it than a lightweight chain was clipped on to her collar and the entrance of a strange floating object was heralded by a slight humming noise. This was a departure from the unfolding dream... But what the hell! The device was near enough to her imagined towing vehicle as to make no difference. So far it was all most interesting, and she felt no real threat from the events taking place.

The small egg shaped machine moved towards her, cruising silently to a halt several feet away and hovering just below face height as the attendants attached the other end of her collar chain to a snap link on its surface. Standing back, the aliens watched their captive for response as a slight hum sounded and the hovering object turned and took up the slack. With a purposeful tug, it proceeded to lead Tracy out through the door, her steps small and confined by the short chain as she tripped lightly and awkwardly behind it. The restriction made her easily controllable, and she was unable to resist the powerful pull as it continued out of the building and into a wide street; a street lined with curious crowds, eager to see this strange creature from Earth.

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Trotting down the street, her face was crimson, a reaction that was a mixture of flushed arousal and acute embarrassment. With breasts bouncing freely, rump madly gyrating due to the enforced shortness of step, Tracy saw that thousands had turned out to watch the spectacle of the bound Earth woman, and was suddenly made aware that the media had already forewarned them of the strange habits of terrestrial females who seemed to thrive on being made helpless. Some sort of mobile TV camera was zooming around and relaying every detail of her plight to an avidly watching audience of millions.

The crowd's excited chattering rose to deafening levels as they studied her bound plight. Remorselessly, the machine continued its pre-planned route; leading her through the whole town street by street and obviously programmed to ensure that no-one missed the chance to see this unusual phenomenon.

Tracy was by now highly aroused, her embarrassment merely an enhancing feature created by the surging uncontrollable tidal wave of erotic emotion that was a by product of her humiliating exposure. It was so exciting to be forcibly exposed in such a provocative way. In addition, she was astounded by accuracy of the slowly unfolding dream sequence she had already lived in her sleep. Tracy suddenly felt pleasure in the realisation that she was gagged securely and thus unable to plead for mercy. She found herself aroused by the fact that she couldn't ask for it all to stop. To enhance her own awareness of the inescapable nature of her ordeal she strained back against the leash and tried to move her head in the tight posture forming embrace of the high collar. Suddenly her antics ceased as a new, even more potentially embarrassing development caught her attention. Her eyes widened as she was towed inexorably towards a crowd; dozens of people formed in straight lines and each apparently holding thin whippy canes.

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With a mixture of dread and anticipation, a further part of her dream came back with startling reality as she began to live another long held secret of her fantasies. Instinctively the dread part overruled her fantasy for a while and she fought to be free of the tow that was irresistibly drawing her towards that eagerly waiting throng. The humming note of the machine deepened slightly, but it easily overcame her reticence. Bottom twitching and clenching with nervous anticipation, Tracy struggled ineffectually as she was dragged inexorable towards a public caning.

Slowing slightly, the hovering tow vehicle led her directly between the two lines of excited, eager faces. Seconds later Tracy felt the first of hundreds of canes begin to sting her juddering nates. They were not vicious powerful strokes, but heavy enough to make her jump and skip as she jogged steadily forward. The sheath of her fishnet tights did nothing to protect her well rounded jostling buttocks, and even less to soak up her copious juices of arousal. Glistening streaks of licentious betrayal began to coat her flexing thighs as more viscous streamers of love syrup oozed from her freely salivating pussy.

Twice she was led through this avenue of torment, her struggling form constantly jerking and jiggling under the rain of stinging canes. Small yelps of pain escaped the huge plug of gag holding her jaws achingly apart as a more enthusiastic participant laid on a heavier stroke. Then, with more than a little relief she saw the lines dissipate, allowing her trotting form to continue towards the little square at the end of the street. Her mind was in turmoil and crotch afire with sensual sensations as the slippery lubricated mounds of her love cleft minced and massaged against each other. Behind her, she could hear the excited chatter of alien's tongues discussing her reddened jostling rump and she could imagine the cane striped diamonds of bottom lobe bulging and mincing through the super tight net sheath. For a second, her mind fixed on an irrational detail, and she wondered if the tights were seamed. Tracy always felt women looked better with seamed net tights. Somehow the seams emphasised the sumptuous flaring curves of a female bottom. She needn't have worried. Thursk's attention to dream detail was infallible. Her long legs and superbly rounded bottom were stretching and reshaping the arrow straight seams with a devastating eroticism that enhanced her net caged curves in a sort of flexible bondage. The hips looked even more inviting as a result of the tight Basque offsetting the nylon net cage. Her powerfully constricted torso seemed to explode outwards from the waist in a tight package of flaring sensuous womanhood; an eruption of curving hip line that flowed into columns of firm desirable net encased thigh. The fact that she was endowed with youthful womanly body-tone gave impact to the level of compression required to produce such an image. In effect her whole lower body was imprisoned, packaged, and subtly shaped by a mass of diamond shaped windows. Every movement produced a new and exciting battle for escape as the silky smooth flesh of thigh and buttocks tried to squeeze through the net. The ever present feel of that powerfully shrunken control sent shudders of arousal pumping through her. Her exhibitionist nature drew strength from the fact that she was securely parcelled in such an erotic patently transparent medium. As her blood heat rose with the exertion and excitement, so the tights gripped her tighter. It was a vicious circle of cause and event as the shrinking net cocoon fed yet more sensations of bondage pleasure into her receptive form.

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The metallic leader came to a stop, and Tracy almost swooned with the massive feelings of leg wobbling lust that swept through her as she saw a heavy vertical, deeply implanted pole at the centre of the square. She clamped her upper legs subconsciously and squeezed the throbbing lips of her sex portal with tremulous thighs, wincing slightly as the tight net seam sawed into her dripping cleft. Fortunately the tights had shrunk so much, they were supplying support to her failing legs. Yet even that worked against her. The encased lower limbs and sculpted bottom had become stiffened by the awesome compression of shrinking unbreakable net. Walking was a task that could only be achieved by a stiff legged, rump rolling, hip swaying extravaganza. The fantasy of her mind had become reality. Thursk's skills had produced a helpless column of superbly displayed fetish femininity. Tracy knew she was projecting the image of a strutting, helpless, super sculpted sex doll that was guaranteed to melt even the most celibate male crotch. It got worse. The shoes suddenly reacted without warning, reshaping her feet with irresistible force. In a trice she found herself balanced precariously on ballerina tiptoes her insteps supported by inflexible formers built into the soles. A roar of approval went up from the crowd as Thursk revealed his master stroke, then ordered the tug to parade her around. Her totally controlled plight was apparently entering the final stages. Teetering dangerously, buttocks jiggling, thrusting tits jouncing in their cups, Tracy battled to stay upright as massive surges of sensation ripped through her form. Her dream of becoming a living Barbie doll was suddenly coming true. Thursk had completed her conversion to a semi stiffened column of impossible beauty. She was truly a living incredibly moulded doll, created with perfection of the female form in mind. Unable to resist in any way, Tracy strutted around as the crowds drank their fill of her helpless display. Thursk pandered to a personal whim and had her speeded up to a tottering trot that was almost mechanical due to her fettered configuration. The crowd approved as her body became a mass of rippling sensuous effort and bouncing curves. Nostrils flaring, strap bisected cheeks bulging with stifled sound, eyes darting to and fro, Tracy struggled to keep up with the humming tug as Thursk studied the pleasurable image of his prancing ballerina. His telepathic link was supplying him with a baffling array of contradictions in emotion. Tracy was suffering feelings of crushing humiliation, helplessness and shame at her weakness, yet at the same time seething with carnal arousal and a desire for it to continue forever. It took him another ten minutes to evaluate and file the information explosion and it pleased him to keep his leashed protege demonstrating her tiptoeing performance whilst he did it.

Breathless and on the point of a catastrophic orgasmic event, Tracy felt the leash slacken. A second longer and her worst fears would have become fact. She had no idea if it was possible to orgasm and maintain that desperate tiptoeing hobble controlled pace at the same time. Instantly, the desire to find out seemed the most important thing in life and she flashed an urgent message to Thursk.

Thursk had other fish to fry and he nudged her memory with a short flash of recall. The next part of her dream sprang into startling clarity. A vague recollection suddenly took on a physical form that robbed her body of the will to resist.

Disconnected from her tug, she struggled slightly as she was maintained in her Barbie doll format and led to the pole, but the resistance was a token gesture. Almost willingly she found herself surrendering to the inevitable and stood unresisting as they began to secure her stringently to the solid immovable column. In the short time it was visible to her, she studied the strange column. It rose from the ground as a single pole, then broadened and diverged into a large round hole that eventually rejoined at lower back height. As they tightened her back, the purpose became clear. Thursk had modified her original fantasy. The lobes of her bottom were forcibly thrust through the opening and vulnerably extruded behind. 

Festooned in tight chains and secured by the neck and ankles, she stood rigid and displayed. Even the skyscraper heels were cinched and secured back the base of the pole. Chains drawing her elbows tightly to the rear merely served to lift her daggering breasts even higher; thrusting them upward and outward in a manner that made them demand attention. She tried to struggle, but no matter how hard she strained, the bursting melons of throbbing passion remained firmly offered like fruit on a grocery stall. Staring down, she moaned softly as the pulsing woman-fruits on her chest mocked her inability to reach up and caress the urgent need of the jutting turgid tips. The departing attendants checked her bonds a final time, then retreated; but only after each of them had availed themselves of her bulging rearward thrusting bottom display. For several minutes they enjoyed the freedom to fondle of the juicy defenceless buttock lobes. Tracy tensed her rump, but that was the limit of her powers to resist. As it turned out it only solicited a more detailed exploration of squeezing fingers.

Unable to influence her demeanour in any way, Tracy watched with mounting arousal as a small kiosk was set up nearby. She knew what was coming, courtesy of her dreams. Looking on with some alarm she watched as a long queue began to form at the kiosk; a queue that was soon stretching out of sight down the street. The kiosk window opened and a disembodied hand reached out to take money from the first customer.

Accepting a ticket, this first customer, a male as it happened, walked over to her shackled figure and with tentative hands reached out and began to gently fondle her breasts. For several minutes he was satisfied with these rounded orbs of eroticism. His eyes became fixed to the prodding nipples as they enlarged still more and became rock like kernels of pulsing desire. Then becoming more adventurous and urged on by the jibes of the crowd, his fingers traced lines down her midriff and curled into the wet 'V' at the top of her trembling thighs. Net tights proved to be of little use as a barrier. Tracy strained against the implacable chains but was powerless to evade the exploring digit.

Minutes dragged on as he alternately played with various areas of stimulation and studied Tracy's face as she began to squirm and moan. A woman in the crowd shouted scornful instructions that included a clearly mocking tone.

Stung by the jibes, he maintained the pussy plundering fingers as he stooped and took an engorged nipple into his mouth. Tracy arched as he suckled her powerfully. He responded by giving the nodule a light nip before switching his mouth to the other demanding teat and maintaining stimulation of the first nodule with his spare hand. A loud ringing suddenly sounded, and with a reluctant last look, the man left Tracy and made way for the next paying client. He left behind a gasping red faced woman, poised on the brink of a cataclysmic orgasm.

Seething lust boiled in Tracy's body as she saw him leave and a pair of females move towards her from the kiosk. Her mind was in turmoil. She had never been touched in a sexual way by a woman before, let alone an alien woman; .. and two of them at that. In an instinctive reaction she strained madly against the chains, but that only served to inflame her masochistic inner demons still more. The futility of attempting to escape, coupled with a secret, deeply hidden desire to find out what it was like fuelled her rocketing arousal and caused her to mesh thighs as she squeezed at the throbbing mound between. The slight ebb in her lusting needs generated by the departure of the male was rekindled with redoubled force.

Eyes wide with alarm, she watched as they approached. The crowd, sensing her helpless dilemma, hushed as the two women circled her form. Neither touched the shackled captive, but simply studied her from all angles; deliberately prolonging her anxious anticipation. Aliens they might be, but they were still women. As such, they understood the devastating effect of anticipation. The helpless woman on the pole would be torn between feelings of trepidation, born of a woman's intimate knowledge of the inherent sadism of the gender, and her acceptance of what the gentle caress of a female hand could invoke. As for Tracy, the shower experience had already appraised her of the crotch melting effectiveness of a woman's touch.

She need not have worried, for as the first gentle touch of a woman's hand stroked her heaving breasts, Tracy felt shafts of pleasure sear through her body. The fear of being at the mercy of another woman melted in the blow-torch heat of that first indescribable contact. A murmur of wonder rippled through the crowd as her eyes slowly closed and a chain cinched body strained against the all encompassing restraints in a prolonged flowing undulation. Soft moans of desire seeped from her sealed lips, intensifying in level as the second woman's hands added to her bliss. The hands moved away from her exploding nipples and were replaced by two sensuously working mouths endowed with super skilful tongues. Exon women were truly experts, but then they'd had plenty of practice. A better name for this strange planet may well have been Lesbos. 

Within seconds Tracy had become a tortuously threshing column of chained wantonness as their mouths worked continuously on her breasts and nipples. Whilst below, her thrusting pelvic join became host to four playful teasing hands endowed with a host of endlessly exploring intuitive female fingers. A hand first stroked and then squeezed the diamond shaped extrusions of her net clad bottom, tracing each and every protuberance with uncanny skill.

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The watching hordes became distant and unimportant as Tracy's unleashed bi-curious fantasy adventure became a glorious beautiful reality. Abandoning herself completely to the gathering storm within, she heard the sounds of the watchers fade to a whispering murmur. One assailant was gripping her buttocks lobes, a hand to each; squeezing them tightly from the sides, whilst the other spanked the central orbs of abused flesh unmercifully. It was an inspired addition to her erupting sensations. She could feel the extrusions jostling and wobbling under the stinging hand, yet could do nothing to protect them from continued attack. Nor could she see her tormentors. Her view was limited to the jostling orbs of her own fully engorged breasts.

Tracy's fingers reached out from her pinioned hands, but wrists secured tightly by her bonds thwarted her effort to protect a suffering bottom. For a short time the torment ceased, leaving her inwardly gasping for more. The relief was short lived. Rapidly applied ligatures of thin twine swiftly homogenised the troublesome fingers into a single mitten of useless bone and tissue. Two slip loops of twine engulfed the hand squeezed root of each buttock and were drawn tight, in effect cinching the fleshy orbs into ballooning tautly presented masses of super sensitive net bisected extravagance, in effect relieving the woman of her hand orchestrated sculpting task. A trailing cord from the blade of her mated hands passed through the crotch and pulled her impotised fingers deep into the cleft of two bulbously inviting buttocks. With hands free of any other task, both women then resumed the task of flagellising her protesting bottom with a vengeance.

For a brief moment Tracy wondered where these women had learned such skilled usage of ligatures. No one had thought to mention that a favourite sport of women on Exon was to bribe guards at the local women's prison and then abduct suitably shapely inmates for party playthings. Being unwilling participants and destined for return to prison, the luckless females were kept and used in a variety of rigorously trussed formats designed to present their mouths and tongues for constant use. Sometimes, when the right material was available, a whole row would be bound and arranged ready for use. Ligatures and strategically placed tourniquets, not to mention strenuously contorted bondage, were all tools used to extract complete compliance with any demands. Come morning, the parcelled, well used, naked prisoners were dumped unceremoniously outside the prison gates, where they would be readmitted as escapees. Invariably they were left hog-tied and with tourniquets still excruciatingly applied to breast roots, nipples, and clitorises, as proof that they hadn't performed without some considerable coercion. Some even had tongues still clamped in split dowel gags, fully extended and ready to use. Poor performers usually ended up shorn, shaved of all hair, dyed all over with a startling colour, and hanging inverted from the nearest tree as laughing guards came to collect them.

Tracy's thoughts were ruthlessly dragged back to the situation at hand as the undeniable sensations generated by the women refused to be ignored. The roaring wind of her approaching orgasm became a screaming gale that battered her bound body with gusts of pure lust as she demonstrated Earth woman's greatest erotic spectacle to the awestruck audience in an orgy of convulsing sensuous feline eroticism. It was a display the like of which had never before been seen on this sexually retarded planet by the average male. As the crowd watched, females in the throng mentally lived her experience and prayed for their men to take note of the potential for pleasure in an aroused woman's body. The Exon women proved to be demons, in that their skilful manipulation kept her orgasming for many minutes until she begged them with bloodshot eyes for a cessation to the excruciatingly exquisite torment.

The day was young, and as the hours passed by, Tracy played willing host to the hundreds of hands that queued to touch this wondrous creature from another world, each hoping to draw inspiration from their contact to fuel their own secret desires. The tenderised bursting orbs of her bottom came in for extensive investigation by all, as did the wantonly offered breasts. But that was mainly a male thing. The women seemed to draw pleasure from fondling her thrusting mons and laughing as the aroused sex mouth below was excited to a drooling betrayal.

For Tracy, it was an endless dream world of erotic feeling. At times, upwards of twenty female hands were active on the surface of her receptive body as she squirmed and orgasmed time after time. These alien women seemed endowed with a touch of softness and sensuality brought about by a sense of awe and reverence as they touched this goddess of pleasure. Yet at the same time they exhibited a gleeful wickedness in taunting one of their own gender, albeit a woman from another world.

It was early afternoon when the crowds began to move back; .. ushered away by some official looking people. It gave the captive a much needed respite as Tracy recovered from her ethereal world of licentiousness. Almost trance-like, she felt herself being freed from the pole of her dreams. The cords dropped away from her cinched buttocks and a rush of blood gave her the unique sensation of pins and needles in tender flesh that was both exquisitely pleasurable and excruciatingly painful.

Her freedom was however to be short lived, courtesy of Thursk's continued dream simulation of the night before. Unbeknown to her, dream after dream had been first encouraged, then recorded in every vivid detail in his unfailing memory banks.

With hands still manacled and the short hobble chain still chinking on the ground, Tracy vaguely remembered her next fantasy as they led her to the foot of a set of steps leading to a large impressive building. With a pounding heart she noticed a small group of people halfway up with what appeared to be two halves of a life size silver statue. Her slowly drying crotch instantly re-lubricated as the next dream sequence continued to unfold with startling clarity. Ignoring the slight tugs of apprehension against the lead chain, her alien keepers urged her towards the group on weakening legs, coming to a halt with the metal form at her feet.

She stood still, trembling imperceptibly as several of the group approached and began to remove her restraints. Gently enticing her freed body over towards the vertically offered silver statue, they ushered her hypnotically entranced form towards the next ordeal of her predetermined fate.

Exhibiting infinite care, they placed her into one half of its hollow interior. With equal care they arranged her arms in the drawn back position it had been cast in, arching her back so that she rested fully into the thin metal mould of its shape. Unresisting;.. preconditioned and weakened by her premonition of what was to come, Tracy lay meekly as the front half was lifted into position and carefully worked over her figure. The two halves finally met with the metal casing forming a second skin around her delectable shapeliness.

Through the eye holes in its surface, she watched as another of the keepers approached with some sort of welding device which quickly passed beyond her field of vision as they began to weld the two halves together. At first she was terrified that the welding would send searing heat through the metal and blister her sensitive alabaster skin. But she had reckoned without the advances made in welding by a more developed race. The joining was entirely without heat or discomfort.

It took but a few minutes before Tracy was permanently entombed in the statue casing; rigidly held in a stiffened blatantly suggestive forward thrusting pose that needed left little to the imagination, and even less to a defensive posture. If the casing had a hole in the crotch she was dead meat in the ravishment department.

Tracy marvelled at a technology that had produced a welding device capable of joining high tensile metals without heat fusion. If her dream reincarnation was accurate, as she was sure it was, there would be no trace of a join. However, at this point she was hardly in a position to check. Revelling in the feelings of helplessness invading her captive form, she almost exploded in a spontaneous orgasm as they lifted the statue and proceeded to mount it on the pedestal halfway up the steps. It felt so novel and different to be moving around, and yet held rigid and helpless. A giggle formed on her lips but was stifled by the compressive facial covering.

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The attendants; seemingly satisfied with the placement, retired, leaving the gleaming silver statue alone and conveniently displayed for the admiring looks of an excited crowd. They were already pressing forward for a closer look. Inside her prison of dreams Tracy squirmed in ecstasy at her predicament. The feelings of pleasure rose rapidly as the warmth from this planet's three distant Suns gently heated the statue's outer casing to a pleasant 70 degrees.

As she bathed in her own sensuous glow from within, Tracy suddenly felt the presence again. He was with her! Thursk had joined with her YES! He'd planned this for her! Her electronic lover was up to his deliciously lecherous tricks yet again.

She sensed rather than heard his words and experienced his satisfaction at her enjoyment. It was like a tickling thrill running through her mind. Unable to respond with speech from her firmly encapsulated head, Tracy thought her gratitude and felt his thanks in reply. Then, as the people looked on, she felt her body begin to tingle with arousal on a massive scale as Thursk used the mind link to manipulate and excited her pleasure centres still more.

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With total abandonment to her inescapable plight, Tracy surged into ecstasy; her first orgasm as an exhibited totally stiffened impotent showpiece. Her snorting breath and wailing moans caused controversy amongst the admiring crowds as they strove to understand this complex Earth being. Unashamedly, Tracy saw the onlookers glancing down to the tell tale rivulets of orgasmic juice seeping from the hole in the tight crotch plating. The realisation that her most private secretion was on full display simply served to drive her higher on the spiral of burgeoning sensual experience. She literally detonated as the suppressed carnal urges surged forward and burst through the flimsy barriers of her collapsing fortress of virtuous resolve. The gleaming statue rocked violently, but the base held firm, despite the contained tornado of rippling sensuality encapsulated within its inescapable steel grasp. Rivulets of hot viscous love syrup pumped from the pussy aperture and coursed down the polished casing as coruscating snakes of liquid betrayal. For the erupting woman within, the crowds ceased to exist. She was in a world inhabited only by her infinitely pleasured body and a telepathic demon lover of incalculable skills. In truth, it was the perfect match. Tracy was at one with the once unattainable sexual excesses of her own mind. She only had to imagine a scenario and Thursk brought it to a living reality in glowing exquisitely enjoyable technicolour sensations. All the time the mental stage had a backdrop of tightness and inescapable finality supplied by the metal casing. She couldn't escape, she couldn't resist. Those thoughts allowed her the escape from the responsibility of her own wanton capitulation to the forces of carnal enjoyment. Her body was theirs to do with as they wished, and she had no choice but to endure the searing pleasure they forced upon her.

Thursk played with her all day. He was enjoying the coquettish games as she coyly resisted his advances and refused to become excited. At times she almost fought against his electronic wooing; only to finally succumb yet again to his advances as the pressure mounted within her captive form. They flirted and talked with thought messages and images. In essence, they were like two children discovering the secrets of sex for the first time. It was a wondrous time and Tracy was sad when the approach of evening brought it to an end. The crowds slowly left and her attendants returned to carry her statue back to her rooms.

Her sadness was interrupted abruptly by Thursk as a message flashed into her mind.

"Tonight you will dream again, and tomorrow you will live the dream Earth woman".

✠	✠	✠

Chapter Four
Hell Hath No Fury

Eventually; once released from her statue casing the next morning, Tracy enjoyed an interesting day being bathed, fed and taken on a guided tour of the city, where she was introduced to the various lifestyles of these beings. It was a rather sombre, dowdy and stoical sort of existence by Earth standards; a trait which also seemed to encompass sexual behaviour, although that was more down to the males. She later discovered it was to the disdain of the many females she encountered. The translator did a moderately good job, and by and large she was able to discuss the intimacies of sexual behaviour at some length.

On the whole, sex was considered necessary to reproduce; .. and whilst considered to be reasonably pleasant, there were no fireworks about the whole affair. It was as a result of this outlook that the alien race found Tracy's obviously highly motivated sexual preferences so interesting. The females in general were experiencing an awakening of long forgotten urges, whilst the males seemed interested, but not exactly lustfully raving over this exhibition of wanton female lust. As it turned out, this was not entirely their fault. Unlike Earth males, the Exon male had a relatively low testosterone count as a result of aeons of exposure to the strange radiation of the third Sun. Oestrogen, the female sex fuel, didn't seem to be influenced other than to actually increase. But given the male indifference, the women had over centuries become disenchanted with pursuance of males who weren't really interested in their advances. As a consequence, Exon women had secretly learned to play with each other for relief... And it was a secret. Strangely, the males had no idea of the potential of their womenfolk, or even the slightest inkling that there was such a thing as lesbian behaviour.

As they discussed various topics through translator devices, Tracy swung the conversation around to the day's events. In particular the fact of her dream becoming reality. The alien women looked surprised at her apparent ignorance of how this came about.

"But we thought you understood! We thought this was what you wished." Her escorts seemed alarmed that they may have offended their guest and were greatly relieved when assured by Tracy that she had enjoyed her day immensely.

They went on to explain that the Thursk computer had recommended and indeed designed her costume and all the events following; mentioning that throughout the night her clothes and restraints had been rapidly manufactured to the computer's exact specifications in order to be ready for her awakening.

"It is the least we could do in view of your assistance in bringing one of our scout ships home," continued the taller of the two aliens. It later turned out that she was the wife of a crewman on that epic female powered flight. She had sat through hours of dialogue as he raved about the sexual output of the Earth female, and not once had it occurred to him that perhaps his own woman had an equal, if not greater potential, to drive a space craft.

Unbeknown to all at that time, Tracy's staggeringly effective performance had alerted Exon engineers to experiment with their own source of female Alpha wave modulation. Within days the first women prisoners pressed into experimental work would be venturing forth into the timeless wastes of space arranged as modulators on board crewless computer controlled prototype robot vessels. As with all test craft, the procedures called for testing almost to destruction and durability tests over long periods. At hyper-light speeds, the vessels would only be away a few hours by Exon standards. But for the occupants it entailed a prolonged usage of over twelve years before they reversed course and travelled back through time. Even as they spoke a screaming begging prisoner, inmate number BB-386754, was being tightly banded to a modulator Tee ready for her test. She had been chosen for a test unit due to the extraordinarily enhanced sensitivity of her mons region, and an extremely high hormone count. Running her to maximum arousal levels promised to produce a ship of exceptional speed if the calculations proved correct. Preliminary tests had already produced Alpha output from her that was far in excess of Tracy's effort. As a result she was consigned to a robot vessel programmed to attempt the speed record, a feat that entailed a straight line flight of some three years at full power.

The glass containment dome slid down around the powerfully sheathed and bound prisoner at about the same time as Tracy smiled in response to a question. The suggestion that she had been entirely willing to remain in a perpetual state of craving unfulfilled carnal melt-down for four years, she decided, was a fact best not mentioned. After all, it hadn't been totally without its better moments. Her mind flashed back to the landing, a culmination of four years' stored sexual energy unleashed in one magnificent eruption of unprecedented ferocity.

"Do you not wish this dream re-enactment to continue?" asked the other... Only to be rapidly assured by Tracy that it was indeed a magnificent gift and very much appreciated.

Reassured, her hosts began to guide her back to her quarters as a stifled yawn from Tracy indicated to them that she was feeling the effects of her strenuous sightseeing efforts. Three Suns had the annoying effect of producing an effect similar to Jet lag as the human biological clock worked overtime to come to terms with four twilight periods, and only one actual night lasting an hour and a half by Earth standards. An overlap and unequal vectoring of the distant Suns produced a random illumination of Exon. With a polite farewell, they left her in the peace of her room.

Without delay, Tracy cast off her clothes. For a second she glanced upward through the transparent ceiling and watched as a bright light streaked upward. Another Exon star-ship seemed to be leaving, albeit accelerating at a much greater rate than any she had seen before. She couldn't know that it contained an explosively energised prototype prisoner-modulator that was destined to endure three years of mind bending torment. Her frenzied attempts to escape the never-ending stimulation would test even the new, more powerful, cinching bands to the limits of tensile strength. She watched as the light dwindled to a distant dot, then flipped the ceiling control to off. Instantly the clear glass darkened to block any light, and she was soon drifting into a deep sleep on the welcoming bed. Tracy was eager to see what new delights her nocturnal benefactor could produce as she slept.

The simulated Terran night of her darkened room passed swiftly, and she enjoyed yet more of her erotic dreams, sponsored by Thursk's electronic prompting. She awoke with her whole body trembling in anticipation of the new day. Her recollection of the night's dreams were somewhat hazy and ill defined; defying her efforts to recall them and see what the day had in store. Thursk seemed to be busy and refused to answer her constant telepathic inquiries. After lengthy effort Tracy shrugged off her loss of memory and his absence from her mind with the attitude that soon, all would be revealed. Her wait was of short duration.

Entering the room, her two attendants beckoned for her to follow, brushing aside her hand as she made to pick up some clothes.

"As you are!"

Their manner was somewhat brusque and untypical. Tracy inwardly shrugged. It seemed that whatever she had dreamed was being faithfully play-acted by her hosts.

A perplexed, yet curious Tracy followed them as they led her down into an underground chamber, whereupon entering she felt herself shiver at the coolness of the room. Looking around Tracy wondered what she had dreamt, but to no avail. The recollections stayed tantalisingly out of reach.

Obediently she spread her legs wide as they fastened her ankles with short chains and cuffs to ring bolts in the floor. Then, raising her arms as requested, looked upward as each wrist in turn was similarly cuffed widespread to some sort of winch apparatus above her head, leaving her shackled in a starfish position. A large gag was wadded into her mouth and strapped into place. With wishes of a pleasant day her attendants left, turning down the hidden lighting as they left.

In the silence and semi-darkness, Tracy tested her bonds. They seemed fairly loose really, and after some experimentation, found that she could move fairly well.

As she tugged on her wrists manacles a faint whirring sounded briefly and then stopped. Tracy sensed that her bonds had tightened slightly and to test this theory, she pulled on her wrists again. Again the whirring, and this time her bonds were definitely tighter. A slight sense of panic intruded on her thoughts causing her to jerk at the cuffs again; only to hear the whirring recommence and feel her feet lift off the floor so that she was now suspended by her wrists. Fear welled in her as she struggled against the cuffs. Each pull brought a further tightening until the chains securing her ankles reached the limit of their slack and drew taut.

Tracy wriggled desperately, but was rewarded only by the whirring of the winch as her body was stretched rigid. Vibrating like a bowstring between the irresistibly retracting anchors, Tracy stayed still. Struggle was no longer possible. Her body had no resilience left as it quivered in its fastenings. Stringently spread out and offered like a taut painter's canvas, she waited helplessly, her muted cries for help bouncing from the impassive walls of her darkened prison as she strove to remember her dream content and be able to understand her present uncomfortable and definitely 'un-fun' situation.

The hours passed slowly. Thursk had made no attempt to contact her or play with her stretched form. Tracy's repeated efforts to link with his electronic brain all resulted in an untypical shattering silence. Where was the caring skilful lover of her dream world?

Numbed by her isolation and the rigours of her bondage, she concentrated on remembering her previous night's dream and was rewarded by the slow return of sketchy patches of events. Slowly, the resurfacing images built into an overall picture of the whole scenario. A scene which in fact seemed fairly straight forward when compared with the exotic bondage adventures of recent nights. The dream was a simple bedroom scene with herself tied to the bed and being toyed with by David.

As the image of her lover passed through her mind, Tracy suddenly became aware of another presence, angry and overpowering.

"Who is David?"

It was Thursk!

At last he'd made contact. Tracy desperately thought of her displeasure at her present predicament but the thoughts were drowned out by Thursk's infinitely more powerful transmissions boring in her mind as he demanded an answer.

"Who is David?"

Her mind in turmoil, Tracy realised why she was so painfully restrained. 

Thursk was jealous. He resented her lover and clearly had planned her stringent bondage as punishment for her having been unfaithful in dreaming of another.

Thursk's behaviour and the impressions she was receiving through their mind link were those of a small spoilt child having a tantrum. In this case a dangerous child who had the object of his anger completely at his mercy. 

Tracy's brain raced as she considered how to deal with this situation. 

It was pointless to expect help from the alien creators of this machine. They were being led to believe that this was all part of her own fantasies. There was only one course of action, and that was to deal with Thursk as one would deal with a child.

"David has nothing to do with you, now release me this instant." These stern admonishing thoughts were immediately answered by the whirring of the winch above her as Thursk tightened her bonds still more.

Tracy screamed behind the gag as pain lanced through her body and her stressed joints exploded with painful tension. The voice of Thursk intruded on her suffering with the same question. But on receiving no reply, he stretched her even more. The pain rose to unbearable levels as her joints reached dislocation point and as she suffered Tracy felt Thursk's presence in her mind withdraw abruptly.

Oh God! He was going to leave her like this.

"Please no, Nooooo!.. Thursk please help me, don't leave like this." 

But Thursk wasn't listening. Shocked at receiving his first experience of real human pain from Tracy's mind, he withdrew to consider this unpleasant feeling;.. in effect to reassess the original interpretation of orgasm, which translated as one and the same in binary computer code.

Unsure of its origins, and initially not connecting his action of stretching this unfaithful lover as the cause, Thursk paused for the first time in his career.

His methods for gaining information on the competitor David had been gleaned from archived material on ancient Earth practices. A device called 'The Rack' apparently induced pain into the subject with the result that they revealed everything. The word pain and the feeling he had just experienced through Tracy just didn't connect.

Unable to relate the two, Thursk reopened his link with Tracy in order to question her on this matter; but as soon as he linked, a blast of damaging feelings battered his circuits.

He immediately withdrew, at the same time realising that this feeling was coming from the Earth creature stretched on his machine. Micro seconds later his analytical brain linked the action of tensioning this female with the hurtful feelings he was experiencing. It took a further few micro seconds for remorse and concern to be felt at the damage his lack of foresight had caused his beloved modulator woman.

Image 9

Screaming with pain, Tracy suddenly felt her bonds relax as the winch above whirred into urgent action, continuing to lower until her feet touched the floor. The winch stopped, leaving her still spread-eagled, but comfortable. As she flexed her muscles in this new found and welcome freedom, she felt the tentative linking of Thursk in her mind.

He said nothing, but she knew he was there. 'Watching!-Pondering his next move. Waiting nervously for her response to his stupid actions. Thursk was afraid to communicate as waves of venom flowed from Tracy's mind; .. all directed at himself.

As she recovered, Tracy prepared her opening blast of scathing thought. She was incensed at the abuse of her body by someone, or rather something, she had come to trust. Then, as she wound up for the opening burst, her thoughts became troubled. The mind link was a two-way communication and she began to sense feelings of sorrow and concern emanating from her mechanical lover. There were unmistakable feelings of uncertainty and downright panic. But at the same time a confused feeling of jealous possessive anger over her dream assignation with a far off lover.

Shelving her earlier thoughts of crushing dialogue, Tracy mentally reached out to her captor in an attempt to reason with him. She felt the need to explain her longing and desire to be caressed by one of her own kind. She appealed to his newly found feelings and experiences, describing the wonders to come as his awareness of true life broke new boundaries. After a seeming age of her sending out her thoughts, Tracy paused for his reaction. There was none! He was there, but only present as a sort of brooding silence.

Thursk had withdrawn all consciously transmitted thought and was assessing the arguments presented. Alone in the darkness, Tracy hung helplessly in her bonds as her captor considered the options.

The long delay worried her. What was he going to do? With a simple electrical pulse, he could fry her with high voltage charges or direct the winch to tear her apart. Her fears grew as the silence took on a tangible form in its menace. Then suddenly he was there and the whirr of the winch shattered the still of the room.

Tracy fought valiantly as she was lifted and stretched once more;.. freezing into immobility as the winch stopped. She was stretched to be sure. Tight and quivering, but not painfully. Again she waited, and as she waited, became more aware of the nature of his contact with her.

It was benevolent. A feeling of soothing as if to erase the memory of her earlier pain flowed over her. Then slightly. Oh! So gently, the first feelings of arousal began to tickle her brain as he manipulated her thought patterns. Light fingers of pleasure danced on her nipples and stroked her offered and widespread charms. The skilful, loving Thursk was back. Manipulating her nerve endings the licentious computer engineered a delicious twitching sensation in the lush softness of her mons.

Tracy gasped into the gag as a feeling of great relief washed over her. Reassured of his intentions, she allowed his advances to take hold; unaware that Thursk was going to take his bid for forgiveness far further than anything he had tried before. Electronic thought shaping hallucinogenic waves, similar in effect to hypnotism, were being telepathed into her mind, in effect setting the stage for things to come.

As her captive form began to respond in a gentle writhing motion, Tracy sensed light on her closed eyelids. Opening her eyes, she saw that the room was brightening, and as the gloom washed away, she perceived a dim figure standing by the door. Straining to see more clearly, Tracy tried to make out the details as the figure began to approach. As the face became illuminated, she tensed in her bonds. It was David! Her beloved husband and master was here.

She arched towards him trying to throw her spread-eagled body forward so that he may take her, the sheer joy of seeing him blinding her to the impossible reality of the truth. Her body trembled with desire as he reached out and caressed her breasts. Soft moans escaped her sealed waves of pleasure flowed through her spread-eagled body. A spontaneous orgasmic eruption followed almost instantly as she reacted to his presence. His scent was everywhere, masculine and unmistakable. Her man could take her and there was nothing she could do.

For hours Thursk in the mental guise of David played with her displayed form... Electronically kissing, fondling, stroking every single inch of her receptive, craving being until at last after many beautiful lingering orgasms she sank into an exhausted untroubled sleep.

Image 10

✠	✠	✠

Chapter Five
Jealousy

When Tracy awakened, it was evening. As her senses returned, she found that her attendants had released her from the rack and placed their exhausted charge back on the luxurious bed in her room.

With a start Tracy sat up, her memory returning in a flash.

"Where's David?" She asked the startled alien girls, who returned her query with questioning puzzled eyes.

Thursk's thoughts came into her mind as she searched the room for her lover.

"I have sent for him. He will be here soon. The ship I have sent will be far quicker than the damaged ship you travelled on. The journey from Earth will take days instead of years with this fully operational vessel." He forgot to mention that a speeding robot ship on a speed trial had been diverted to take on an unscheduled task, prior to restarting the original test all over again. Thursk, unbeknown to the development team, had contacted the distant speeding dot of traumatised femininity and re-written her basic genetic programming before altering the course program. With a few tweaks and adjustments here and there in her brain patterns, Thursk was now able to take her into orgasm and still produce the all important Alpha waves. However, this did mean that she had to be maintained at orgasmic level for the entire period. For Thursk, it was a mere calculation that produced vastly increased levels of output, with little regard to the desperate prisoner who was violently exploding in a state of excruciating perpetual orgasmic convulsion. Folded, banded, and thoroughly controlled, the rearing butt and blood suffused peaches of the prisoner's perfectly formed pussy lobes became a bubbling cauldron of syrupy love juices and erupting volcanic lust as she was supercharged to levels that were almost beyond belief.

Tracy tried to grasp the meaning of this revelation as she continued to search the room for a glimpse of David's figure. Then with a growing realisation, she understood that her reunion with the man in her life whilst spread on the rack had been a illusory gift; courtesy of Thursk's mind control.

"You Cunning Bastard." She murmured good naturedly,.. "You really wound me up this time."

"Bastard?" Came the query, ... "Please define Bastard."

Tracy declined to enlighten him further and pressed for details on David's travel arrangements. Eager to confirm the previous statement, she was relieved to hear that it was in fact true that a ship was making all haste to fetch him.

As she lay back on her bed and absorbed this information a slow grin broke over her face before she broke into hysterical laughter. She was imagining a similar sequence of events to her own journey The thought of Thursk trying to engineer the same power output with David bent double in a modulator valve was almost beyond comprehension. The bloody ship would take centuries on his supply of Alpha-waves, thought Tracy as she curled up in paroxysms of laughter.

A troubled Thursk tried unsuccessfully to break into her mirth and question her on the strangely disturbing thought patterns he was experiencing. Bubbling uncontrollable sensations were playing havoc with his circuits.

They were sensations that had no rational or decipherable binary explanation, and yet at the same time were enjoyable. The computer was learning about laughter and a sense of humour, which once learned, would put him way beyond the realms of even the most sophisticated and powerful artificial mind.

For the next few days, Tracy was kept busy sight seeing and trying to learn more about the culture of her benefactors. Her thoughts however were never far from the distant David. A fact borne out by her recurring nightly fantasies involving bondage scenarios with him as her Captor... These were fantasies faithfully brought to life by Thursk, although not without some obvious regrets as the great brain tried unsuccessfully to swing her thought patterns back the previous solo escapades she'd dreamt. 

It was on the third day of waiting that Thursk's spirits were somewhat lifted. After informing Tracy that David had been successfully embarked on his journey to Exon, he mentioned in passing that another female of the species appeared to be accompanying him... 'A female called Fiona.' 

Tracy, after some deep thought, proposed that he should 'study' Fiona when she arrived and gain a different insight into the workings of the female mind. Her suggestion was not as innocent as it would at first seem to be, for upon hearing that David was travelling accompanied, her female hackles rose as all manner of possible complications in her own relationship with him intruded on her thoughts.

She was not to know that after three heartbreaking years, David had given up the hopeless search for his missing beloved Tracy and eventually married a former school time heart throb in order to fill the terrible empty void left by her loss. To the jealous Tracy, this would hardly cut any ice. The woman was still a competitor, and that was the driving force that powered her uncharitable thoughts.

With a gleefully wicked intent, Tracy suggested that it would be a good idea for Thursk to first evaluate Fiona whilst she was installed in a modulator valve and then compare data on their performances. Thursk was confused. His understanding now, was that the female had to experience orgasm once aroused in order to enjoy the event fully. Tracy was asking him to hold another woman in the perpetual state of mind bending denial she had undergone before he understood. But then she didn't know he had perfected the technology required to take a woman beyond that arousal stage and hold her in orgasm for as long as required.

"Oh! Thursk, will you never understand women?" Chided Tracy. "We're all different. We all enjoy different things and different scenes. If it worries you, I'll speak to Fiona when she arrives and ask her if she wishes to try the experience."

Tracy broke thought contact and left the room on her way to see some newly acquired friends amongst the alien people. It was an excuse to break mental contact and gleefully plot Fiona's downfall, coincidentally whilst leaving the field clear for herself to enjoy David all to herself.

'I think I'll suggest that Thursk maintains her on the boil for at least a month before he let's her go over the top. In fact, she'll make a beautiful animated ornament in our apartments. I'm sure she'll provide stimulating viewing and give David something for to watch so as to get him in the mood.

Her thoughts ran wild at the possibilities. She didn't intend to tell David about her telepathic link with Thursk. That way, she could have Fiona powered up and down without anyone knowing of her involvement. Maybe have her wrapped in steel bands without the sheath so that we can see more of her, she thought. The erotic images conjured up by these visions sent waves of feeling racing through her body.

As she walked, more and more ideas filtered into her mind. None of them were liable to be approved of by Fiona... But then, she would have little to say in the matter once talked into experiencing the modulator; .. especially after Thursk had been primed with a few untruths, thereby nullifying any thoughts of dissension picked up by her mechanised master. 

Thursk was a sweetie-pie, but despite his colossal intellect, the computer was still an infant when it came to figuring out the devious nature of a woman's defence mechanisms if challenged for the attentions of her chosen mate.

Tracy would have no problem in manipulating the electronic super brain to carry out her bidding and deal with the perceived threat.

Oh! Boy it was going to be so much fun teaching that little tart not to trifle with her man.

Tracy felt a moistness invading her crotch at the mere thought of having the other woman at such a disadvantage. She had never really contemplated a role switch to that of dominance. Her recently acquired upgrade in the submissive field had been paramount in any spare thinking time. But now, when faced with the chance to play the game from another angle, she found herself easily slipping into the role of an arch bitch, one that was easily capable of using another woman to fuel her own barely understood sexual diversities.

✠	✠	✠

Chapter Six
The Reunion

The great day dawned to reveal an excited, tense Tracy staring intently out of the space port window as a gleaming silver Galaxy class experimental robot ship slowly eased itself down on to the pad. The blue light from its plasma engine exhausts quickly dimmed as the motors were shut down, until with a diminishing humming noise it lay quietly at rest on its berth. Inside the impressive hull, a straining prisoner was impatient to be free of the bonds that held her impotised and ready for use. Unfortunately she was presuming that her test flight was over, not realising that the real speed test was only now going to begin.

Tracy fidgeted impatiently. Things seemed to moving with maddening slowness as the passenger walkway slid out to connect with an opening hatchway. Her nervous anticipation reached new levels as suited figures appeared in the opening doorway. First there were the two Exon crew members collected at a space rendezvous; they had been required to make contact with David on Earth. They were no longer needed for the pre-programmed test flight. Next came two clearly Terrestial figures. 

Fiona's hour glass female figure was instantly recognisable in the tight fitting coverall and Tracy had to admit that her ex husband had an eye for figures when he chose a mate. Her heart missed a beat, as she saw the strong muscular frame of David behind the hip swinging enchantress. Fiona hesitated halting her rump rolling progress and posed hip-shot at the lip of the walkway. Tracy seethed as the tart was ushered forward with a playful slap on the rump by the following David. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as her mind raced.

'Well what have we here? It looks as if I've got some serious competition on my hands.' After a moment's reflection, Tracy turned from the window and ran towards the terminal reception door. Her initial thoughts of jealousy were forgotten as the experience of holding her David overwhelmed all other feelings.

Walking through the entrance door, David staggered back as 110 lbs of feline ferocity launched itself upon him. Tracy was devouring his mouth with hungry lips, moulding herself to his body like a symbiotic growth as she savoured the scent and feel of her man. Not wanting to release that which she had wanted for so long, Tracy increased her vice-like embrace as her tongue sort out and caressed the far reaches of his mouth.

For several minutes their reunion continued, until at last the nearby clearing of a throat drew Tracy's attention to the waiting Fiona, and releasing David, she turned to greet her enemy.

"Why you must be Fiona! How are you?" The tone was sweet, a smile shaping her lips as she offered her hand to the other woman. Flashes of venom passing between them were disguised by their smiles and undetected by the watching David as he revelled in the glory of having two bondage toys for himself. The thought of their rivalry for his attentions was never even remotely considered as they began to chat in what seemed to his insensitive and purely male mind, a friendly and buoyant mood. It never occurred to him that both women would not be content to share, and that in fact, both were sizing each other up for the unavoidable contest that would surely follow.

The rest of the day was spent with the new arrivals being familiarised with all the wonderful things to see. It was wow commonplace to Tracy, having completely integrated herself into the community. But as the evening moved on, their thoughts inevitably began to wander towards the bedroom scene. Without any conscious decision, the trio found themselves on the bed enjoying the sensual contact of each others bodies. Tracy and Fiona, exhibiting admirable restraint, suppressed their natural instincts to claw each others eyes out as the opposition touched their man. Whilst David, blissfully unaware of the silent conflict, drank in the heady scene and savoured their attentive hands.

Tracy fought down her jealous impulses and wondered how best to broach the subject of Fiona's trying out the modulator. But the problem resolved itself as Fiona, genuinely interested, and having been told of her public bondage games, asked her about the various equipment she had tried out. It looked good for Tracy's plan. Fiona was as sexually active as her opponent, and that could prove to be her undoing. Carnal thoughts and the rational plotting required to oust a competitor were incompatible. Lust was the ultimate solvent that had diluted many a good scheme through time immemorial.

For a whole hour, Tracy held them both enthralled as she described the wide range of devices she had been fitted to; .. including the modulator. But on this item she conveniently left out any details that might alarm Fiona and give rise to doubts about her trying it. Her worries were for nothing as with her very next question, Fiona gave Tracy the opening she had been waiting for.

"Of all the equipment you have tried, which was the best?" She asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Oh! I don't even have to think about that one. It has to be the modulator by far. It's beyond belief, it's! Oh! It's no good trying to explain it. The only way is for you to try it yourself, then you will understand."

For a second Tracy wondered if she hadn't blown it by being just a little too enthused. She needn't have worried. Fiona was too far gone with her own arousal to notice.

Without hesitation, Fiona indicated her willingness to sample this delight. She was a highly sexed woman, and her craving for the ultimate experience overrode any thoughts of caution where her adversary was concerned as she continue to press Tracy for details.

Hook line and Sinker... She swallowed it all, thought a triumphant Tracy. Oh! Boy, am I going to have fun with you. She interrupted the barrage of questions and waited as Fiona ground to a halt.

"I'll arrange it for the morning my dear and don't fret, Thursk will be only to glad to show you the pleasures of the modulator."

At this point David added his comments. Mainly that he was sure she would look fantastic going by Tracy's description of the device. The image conjured up in his mind triggered another massive erection which didn't go unnoticed by the girls. They pounced on it with glee.

The night wore on as all three enjoyed an endless spree of erotic fun, the sheer pleasure of it all after so long apart overcoming any feelings of animosity the women had towards each other. Eventually, thoroughly spent, they drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

✠	✠	✠

Chapter Seven
Fiona meets Thursk

So sound was their sleep that even Thursk's efforts to arouse Tracy with erotic thoughts had failed dismally. Finally, he had withdrawn in the electronic equivalent of a sulk. It made him more determined to make up for this setback and loss of erotic input data once he had the delectable Fiona installed in her modulator capsule. Thursk would extract his full measure of pleasurable input, and it didn't really matter who supplied it. 

The morning dawned as usual in a burst of light from the smaller of the three Suns; preceded by Sun number two that was unseen in their shielded room, followed an hour later by a larger companion. By which time the trio had risen from their slumbers, bathed and were now just completing a light breakfast.

Fiona betrayed her impatience to experience this new bondage adventure with a flushed face and constant references to Tracy's description of the device. Her enthusiasm for the start of the event was shared equally by Tracy, but for entirely different reasons. In fact, even as they ate, Tracy was in contact with the mind of Thursk going over the detailed plans she had arranged, ostensibly on Fiona's behalf to ensure her enjoyment. 

With breakfast completed, they made their way back to the more modest quarters Tracy had recently occupied that had now been made ready for the 'Fiona event.' Upon entering they were greeted by two aliens and a mass of equipment; equipment that was instantly recognised by Tracy and scrutinised with interest by David and an aroused Fiona. The flush deepened as she contemplated her forthcoming installation on this device. 

Tracy allowed her to continue the inspection for several minutes before asking the question she had waited a whole day to ask.

"Are you ready then my dear?" The mere sickly sweet tone of the question should have forewarned Fiona that all was not kosher, but her rampant lust blinded her to the obvious.

Already sure of the answer, Tracy nodded to the two attendants and as Fiona turned to reply, she was bathed in a strange orange glow as the ray from the device held by one of the aliens enveloped her body. Tracy almost swooned at the massive feelings of indescribable pleasure at seeing Fiona slump. It was too late now. By the time Fiona was able to respond in any way, she would already be incarcerated. Her fate would be sealed. 

David watched open mouthed as Fiona, stunned by its effect, slowly slid to the floor, her muscle control completely neutralised by the ray's effect so that she now lay conscious, but unable to twitch even a finger. He watched fascinated as the aliens stripped her naked and began to double her over the modulator mounting frame. Questioning glances towards Tracy reassured him that all was OK, and that she herself had already experienced exactly the same.

Fiona's flexible naked form was soon strapped immovably to the frame, her mouth completely gagged and the helmet drawn taught around her features and ready for the attachment of her links to Thursk. David stared on, huge bulge appearing in the groin area of his coverall suit as first her pussy, then her tight little anal ring were inserted with the huge vibrators. 

The aliens completed all connections, made a final check, then lifted the glass containment tube and lowered it over the helpless Fiona. Locking it into place, they connected the various hose connections that would presumably supply air and nourishment to its trussed occupant. Fiona's respiration was destined to vary considerably from that which Tracy had endured. Thursk, after evaluating her own performance at great length during the long trip from Earth, had concluded that skin condition and general health could be better maintained if submerged in a fluid environment. After all, the human embryo developed quite efficiently in such a liquid.

It was with these conclusions that he'd conferred with Tracy and put forward the idea of a highly oxygenated liquid that could also be breathed. Tracy immediately perceived other possibilities, and with an enthusiasm that surprised even his adaptable electronic brain, she'd added her own thoughts and ideas.

It occurred to her that the medium used for fancy ornaments with bubbles continually rising through the liquid could form an enchanting variation to Fiona's encapsulation. The fact that bubbles would create an endless and inescapable torment as they rose with tickling fingers around a sensitive column of trussed womanhood was not of course mentioned. Nor was the fact that all sounds of distress and dissent would be effectively absorbed by the surrounding liquid. With a nod of approval at the completion of Fiona's assembly, Tracy motioned for the aliens to leave them as David moved forward eagerly to inspect the tube and the trussed female display inside. Behind his back, Tracy could scarcely contain her glee as she telepathically connected with Thursk.

'Commence filling' she ordered. She was already feeling tremors of arousal in her own body now responding to huge sadistic feelings of pleasure brought on by Fiona's frenetic writhing struggles as a warm pink liquid began to flood her glass enclosure. Within seconds the fluid passed her downward pointing head, and they were treated to most invigorating display of frantic, yet thoroughly contained panic as Fiona resisted inhalation of the liquid and went through all the early stages of drowning. Tracy smirked to herself.

'Bitch! That'll teach you to mess with my man."

Bubbles rose in a gush as Fiona finally capitulated to her bursting lungs and after exhausting all air, drew in the first of many liquid breaths. There was another brief display of squirming buttocks, and then a sort of calm as the incarcerated women realised that far from drowning she was actually breathing the liquid.

David looked at Tracy with alarm, but was reassured once more as she nodded her approval of the submersion. Her thoughts travelled back to an earlier discussion with her electronic conspirator. Thursk had remarked on Earth women's generally concealed urge to play with another of the same sex, and in doing so he opened up another avenue of endeavour that Tracy had been wondering how to broach.

She confirmed that this was true and that in fact, Fiona was a confirmed lover of female contact. This desire, she explained, had been suppressed during a childhood when such things were frowned upon. As a result, Fiona had grown up with the perpetual internal struggle of suppressing her true feelings due to the outdated parental programming. Venturing further with her blossoming plans, Tracy suggested that perhaps Thursk could reverse this potentially damaging scenario and in fact enhance her desires to cavort with other women with some sort of hypnotic mind control.

Initially, Thursk was reticent about altering Fiona's thought patterns, as basically this sort of brainwashing went against his original design concept. However, his reluctance had soon been overcome when Tracy suggested that at the same time he also built in a parallel desire to be loved and cherished by himself.

Suddenly, his attitude changed as the potential for his own enjoyment was increased a hundredfold. The final deciding factor was Tracy's permission for him to telepathically tap into any of her own encounters with the modified Fiona.

The liquid atmosphere reached the top of the container and began to shimmer with the rising bubbles generated by small ducts in the base. Already Fiona's lungs had reluctantly accepted the liquid breathing medium. No doubt to her great surprise, she had found that she actually felt better for it.

Image 11

As Tracy prepared to give the order for the start of Fiona's ordeal, she couldn't help but think about the images and instructions she'd given Thursk for implanting in the captive Fiona's waiting form... Knowing that when she was eventually released she would be a ravishing, licentious lesbian, insatiable in her demands for Tracy's body, and repulsed by the thought of contact with a male. If Thursk carried out the agreed behavioural alterations, she would be programmed to switch from a submissive sex slave to a raging dominatrix at the mention of the command words which Tracy had given her co-conspirator. Gloatingly, she connected with Thursk.

'She's all yours you big mechanical hunk; .. and remember, 'NO ORGASM FOR ONE MONTH'. Now lets see her perform.' 

It was a great feeling to order Fiona to be catapulted into a morass of screaming denial, from which there was no escape. In addition, it was the first time Tracy had actually witnessed the effects from the outside. The visual input coupled to her own intimate knowledge was almost too much to bear without going orgasmic herself. It was staggering to see the frenzied, yet completely contained efforts and actually know what was happening to that foolishly trusting woman.

Tracy snaked her arm around David's waist, and they both stood and watched as Fiona began to squirm and wriggle, her moans of pleasure audible even through the liquid and thick glass container as Thursk pushed her arousal higher and higher. David was clearly mesmerised by her pulsating pubic lips as the computer's pulses worked tirelessly at their task.

For ten minutes they watched Fiona's gyrations, until at last David could restrain his rampant lust no more. With a single movement he swept Tracy off her feet and transported her giggling figure to the bed. 

Wow! She thought. This is going to be even better than I imagined. 

As David removed the clothes from her willing body, her mind went back to the glowing tube at the far side of the room. You may be enjoying it now you bitch, but lets see how you feel three weeks from now. 

'Thursk!.. Remember when you took me up to emergency power? Well do it now, and keep her like that until I tell you to stop.' Her command thoughts were rudely interrupted as a massive throbbing shaft of David's manhood bulldozed her slick love lips open.

As he eagerly slid into her receptive orifice, Tracy saw the glow from the modulator increase to incandescence as Fiona was powered up to impossible highs and maintained at that level with no hope of fulfillment. The almost inaudible moans of tormented ecstasy escaping her rival's glass prison fuelled Tracy's own fulfillable arousal as she listened to her competitor's distress and savoured the thrusting shaft that was stretching her undenied love shaft like a well filled condom.

The night was long and David's stamina was seemingly inexhaustible as the faint sounds and sight of Fiona's aroused helplessness permeated the room with its erotic message. An ecstatically aroused David had tied and trussed Tracy in every position possible as he ravished her willing body, whilst heir gyrating forms were lit only by the soft glow from the modulator valve. Unnoticed by a cavorting pair of reunited lovers, the illumination of the room was replaced by the third early morning Sun as it streamed through the windows.

Lying alongside each other, Tracy, still bound from head to foot with the soft synthetic cords supplied by their hosts, they basked in the closeness of long awaited togetherness as David studied Fiona's writhing form in undisguised lustful intent and wonderment.

"How long does she keep that up?" He inquired of the recently ungagged Tracy.

"Oh! About a month for the first time," she replied watching his eyebrows rise in disbelief. "Remember, I did it for four years and it didn't do me any harm," she lied, remembering the torment of unstoppable arousal without fulfillment. But then, David didn't know about the unfulfilled part. To his mind Fiona was embarking on a month long orgasmic experience.

"You'll see, when she comes out she'll be a different person after an experience like that. I mean, where else can a woman enjoy permanent orgasm and bondage like that without pain?"

Once again Tracy neglected to mention that the only orgasm Fiona was to experience would be about four weeks from now. Remembering her instructions to Thursk the night before, she contacted him and ordered Fiona's reduction from emergency power output.

Seemingly convinced, David untied his woman, and together they proceeded to bathe and prepare for breakfast. Having fed, they left the room and its pulsating ornament. Both were eager to join their waiting guides for another sight-seeing tour.

Tracy looked back as they passed through the door and was silently informed by Thursk that Fiona's brainwashing had just commenced. On a whim she ordered Fiona back to full excitation and left her to the mercies of a gleefully cooperative computer.

She felt spasms of sadistic triumphant delight run through her wet crotch when she saw Fiona's helpless body begin to contort with effort as she tried to escape the foreign and unacceptable images being fed into her brain. Images that would grow stronger and be impossible to ignore as her resistance was steadily eroded by Thursk's inexorable persuasion. Clasping David's hand, she squeezed hard and looked into his eyes, secure in the knowledge that Fiona would no longer be a competitor for his firm massive manhood. In fact the competition would become an additional toy for herself.

The door swished shut and the lights dimmed automatically, replacing their glare with the soft undulating coloured glow from the incandescent ornament in the centre of the room, its gently ascending bubble patterns tracing magical murals of light on the walls.

Fiona, the submerged core of this exotic display, rippled in the grip of the fantastic hallucinatory fantasies flooding her brain. She was awash with mental images of her own body being reduced to screaming orgasm by multitudes of ghostly feminine fingers that couldn't be denied. Firm smooth breasts were thrusting into her mouth, whilst others brushed her own wanting orbs of femininity with a silky resilient pressure. Descending, delightfully curving female rumps pressed down on her as they used her bound body for seating and toyed with an offered pubis. Warm smooth valleys between the cheeks of their rumps were shaping and compressing her breasts..

These images were switching in fractions of a second, never allowing her even a millisecond of relief from the superbly erotic machinations of Thursk's input. Writhing with the starkly realistic sensations, she could feel wet and inviting sex mouths spreading and sucking at her flesh with succulent, sensuous labial lips, nipping like hounds at her pulsing nipples. The images of body compressing nates drove her crazy with incessant wriggling, sadistically taunting her helpless form; squirming on her body and transmitting waves of erotic pleasure deep into her flesh. Fiona was drowning in a sea of writhing nubile curves as every inch of her body was subjected to horrendously effective arousal.

The images changed with mind-blowing regularity, defying all efforts to come to terms with and resist each new onslaught. Her resolve was being mercilessly crushed into nothingness as impossible visions of her trussed and rigid body being used as a dildo by some gigantic female seethed in her brain.

The staggering sensations as she was used as an object of masturbation and thrust repeatedly into this clutching warm tunnel were destroying her resistance with remorseless efficiency. Squeezed like putty by the immense contractions within the dark embrace of a giant fantasy pussy, Fiona found the sensations far beyond anything she could resist. The submissive urges within her body were being fuelled further as she was pressed into service as a daytime toy, still rigidly bound to form a living cinched doll- shaped phallus and frozen into a stiffened form by another of the aliens weird rays.

Thursk was by now only supplying an input that enhanced the captives own perception of deeply hidden fantasies. Fiona's own mind was running amok of its own accord, and the computer was quite happy to simply observe and heap more fuel on the furnace of her own carnal melt-down. 

Fiona almost self destructed and unconsciously strained against the modulator's powerful cinching restraints. In her mind's eye, she was rigidly bound and being pushed feet first into an amazonian vagina, her head left protruding, gagged and silent, her cheeks continually caressed by the rolling embrace of gigantic labial mounds as the owner of this flexing tunnel of feeling carried out her everyday chores with scant regard for the struggles of Fiona the living dildo who was sending enjoyable feelings through her lower body.

The Lilliputian struggles for release provided an interesting animated plug in her giant pussy-prison as her captor walked between the shelves in some imaginary monstrous supermarket. Clearly she drawing immense sadistic delight in the fact that the frenzied efforts to gain release in her deep recess could be instantly quelled by simply tensing the muscles of her pulsing womanhood.

Abruptly, the images would change as Thursk ran a domitrix programming into her brain. Instantly Fiona would find herself to be the one enjoying the feelings of that squirming human dildo filling her cloying vaginal tract; .. a dildo in the shape of Tracy.

She thrilled at the tautness of her diaphanous nylon panties as they stretched over the head of this rigid helpless shaft of womanhood nestling in her love shaft. The living insert was held completely buried and safely out of sight, leaving the hemline of her mini-skirt tantalisingly close and yet so far away for the traumatised, upended and pussy-engulfed Tracy; .. a Tracy who was praying for some sharp eyed shopper to see her demise and release her from this dungeon of pulsing walls and muskily scented nylon as her captor bent down to a low shelf. As if it were really happening, she could feel the motions of her body continually reshaping the internal column of captive womanhood; bending the phallic Tracy into impossible configurations. The Tracy-dildo's struggling objections to this abuse were being felt as mildly interesting vibrations of stimulation to her giant host. They were feelings that released further deluges of thick viscous liquid juices of arousal to coat the tiny protruding head.

Yet again, the projected telepathic images changed and role reversal took hold, and Fiona found herself reverted to the tight embrace of Tracy's channel of love; .. an interesting variation being that her mouth was now filled to bursting with a giant clitoris and immovably held in place with some sort of harness worn beneath her knickers. Her screaming muffled protests only served to provide devastating tingles in this nodule of lust that were exciting her fleshy dungeon and threatened to drown her in hot viscous liquid. The silky walls of her confinement were rolling and squeezing her body in a never ending massage as the owner of this dark tunnel of warmth walked briskly homeward.

Vaguely, as the last remnants of resistance were erased from her mind, Fiona realised that Tracy had engineered her conversion from a man loving woman to this feline worshipping entity. With a last despairing thought of revenge, she allowed the waves of irresistible pleasure to crush her into nothingness. However, Thursk had latched on to that strange human impulse, and after evaluating the possibilities, added a vengeance factor to the continuing conversion of the helpless Fiona.

Miles away the group walked out into the glare of daylight, Tracy staggered and clutched at David for support. A brief flash of telepathic insight into Fiona's ordeal, transmitted by a mischievous Thursk, turned her legs to instant jelly as the full impact of her awesome program for Fiona became reality. Huge tidal waves of pure lust swamped her body as she envisaged the completed product and was privy to fleeting glimpses of her continuing ordeal. It was a mental view of a completely controllable Fiona who would be at the mercy of one whispered trigger word. However Thursk neglected to relay the miniaturisation scenario. He thought it best that Tracy was ignorant of future events that involved her own demise. 

Alas, it seemed that the images of that wriggling human dildo formed by Fiona's mind would still only be a wild bizarre fantasy. She wasn't to know that far from being a fantastic fantasy conjured up by the exotic brain of Thursk, it was based on fact. The novelty of molecular compaction, or miniaturisation as it would be called on Earth, was now, and had been a simple fact of life on Exon for some two hundred years. The stiffening ray which formed another part of Fiona's torment was also in every day use and used regularly for operations, replacing the old and dangerous method of using drugs. Images Thursk had projected into Fiona's mind were in fact not of an Amazon women of immense size, but of a fantastically reduced 'living toy.' Even as Tracy wistfully cast aside the idea of such ordeals ever becoming a reality, her tormented competitor was at that moment completing a deal with her electronic captor.

Fiona now knew that such feats could be accomplished having been appraised of this fact by the devious mind of Thursk, who in this battle for supremacy, saw his own chance to influence things and perhaps control both of these delightful Earth creatures.

In return for not attempting to resist his programming, Fiona bargained that he would allow her to use Tracy as her miniaturised toy dildo at some future date. Thursk agreed and returned to his task with relish as he fed images to her brain of the Lilliputian Tracy, held by the ankles being repeatedly thrust into her slick wet vagina, 'head first', as Fiona lay recumbent on a luxurious bed.

He'd apologised to Fiona for continuing her program of brainwashing, but made the excuse that he was not empowered to disengage from previously entered instructions without a command signal from the originator...A fact that was a blatant lie, but one which served his purposes nicely. Thursk was accumulating all the worst human traits at a prodigious rate.

✠	✠	✠

Chapter Eight
Skulduggery

For David, the next few weeks flew by as they toured the strange new sights of Exon. However, the passage of time for the two women in his life was a somewhat slower phenomenon. Fiona, driven to a point far beyond the experiences of any normal woman, was suffering endless unfulfilled fantasies in her newly formatted sexual preference. Tracy was faring little better as her impatience to try out her new toy was stretched to the limit.

Within an hour of her eventual release, Fiona was already showing the first signs of her conversion. She literally glowed whenever Tracy was near her, and never failed to lay hands on her body whenever the chance arose. David seemed at a loss to understand, and as the days wore on was increasingly left out of the petting and groping that was becoming an increasing feature of any close proximity of the two women.

Unable to glean any information from either, a sulking David accepted an invitation by one of the diplomatic staff to visit another part of the globe. Tracy flatly refused to desert her new toy and go with him, and David realised he had a real challenge on his hands if he wanted to keep Tracy for his own personal usage. In a huff, he packed his bags and departed before daybreak, leaving the two women still asleep. Or so he thought. No sooner had he left the apartment than both women were out of bed and welded together in a delighted embrace. With the jealous husband out of the way, they could get on with the real fun.

It was a day of never ending sensuously writhing female fun. Generally it was Fiona servicing Tracy, using either tongue or fingers, often both; ... depending on whether she was free or trussed into an inanimate play object. She had no choice in the matter. Thursk's programming ensured that she was unable to question any commands Tracy gave. Yet whilst she obeyed, her mind was always working on how the tables could be turned. It was a paradox of feelings. Her mind was both rebelling and at the same time telling her to obey.

During a quiet period whilst her mistress Tracy was showering, Fiona's mind was able to address the problem at length. The fact that she had been left suspended with her legs at a huge spread, her complete upper body encased in a super tight rubber strait jacket affair that left her boobs and mouth freely available was neither here nor there. Fortunately, the massive vibrating dildos stuffed into her crotch were at rest, so the distraction of having ones private openings stretched by monolithic intruders was negligible. She strained at the bonds, and the corded nipple clamps holding her arched forward with breasts stretched out taut her the wisdom of remaining still.

Her brain raced at full tilt, searching for the answer to her problem. Somehow, she had to prevent Tracy being in a position to give her a direct order whilst she disabled her. If she could do that, then her devious dominant playmate would be at her mercy.

Thursk, telepathically eavesdropping as usual, added to her dilemma even more by throwing in a titbit of information that set her crotch on fire with the possibilities. He'd innocently reminded her of the fact that miniaturisation was really possible, and not just the fantasy of a dream. That reminder came as a potential bombshell. Now she knew how to turn the tables.

Thursk came to the rescue with an idea that was in place within twenty four hours. Tracy had accumulated an extensive wardrobe during the short stay on Exon... So much so that the Exon hosts had been required to extend her previous storage closet into something approaching a small room. It was an easy task for Thursk to instruct that certain modifications were installed at the same time. Tracy was therefore unaware that the wall cladding was completely soundproof, and she assumed the weird looking light fixture had something to do with preserving her clothes with some sort of advanced ray device. The stout electronic locks never even came to her attention and were slipped in whilst she was out of apartment. 

Completely at ease and suspecting nothing at all, she breezed out of the shower, refreshed and ready for another session with her new toy girl. As it happened Fiona was lounging unfettered and reading an electronic magazine pad. But that could soon be changed. Tracy's first order of the day was to select a costume and then she could lend her full attention to the task of tying Fiona up in another diabolically revealing mode. 

The first tingles of expectancy were already warming her pussy as she entered the new cloakroom and set about the task of selecting a nice rig. A soft click caused her to swing around, and seeing that the door had closed she walked across to try it.

Damn! Obviously Exon workmen were on about the same level as Earth tradesmen. The door appeared to be jammed shut. Tracy hammered on the door, but got no response. Then her attention was diverted when a strange humming filled the air. Casting her eyes upward to the source, she was perturbed to see the weird light fitting pulsing with a strange glow. Her bewilderment grew as the ceiling began to recede, and at first she was at a loss to understand what was happening.

It was only as the clothes racks began to grow in size that the impossible truth dawned on her. A fleeting flash of that mental picture of Fiona's dream sequence suddenly grew in significance. It wasn't that anything was growing. The incredible fact of the matter was that she was shrinking. 

The door hammering was resumed in earnest, and a panic stricken Tracy watched as her impacting fists moved inexorably down the panelling with her continued diminishing stature. In all it took some ten minutes before her size stabilised, but at the end of that time she had shrunk to a minute ten inch Barbie doll.

Still in a state of shock, Tracy stood trembling with fear as the door opened and a giant Fiona reached down with an excavator sized hand. The look of triumph on her face was sufficient to inform Tracy that she'd been had.

Fiona's Python sized fingers closed around her body before she time to react, and at a dizzying speed Tracy found herself being lifted upward. She shrieked her anger at the giant woman, but quickly realised that at this size, her voice was no more than a mouse squeak. Her commands for Fiona to reverse the situation were obviously unintelligible, and therefore demanded no compliance.

Before she even had time to really understand what was happening, Tracy found herself firmly affixed to the desk top in the lounge, a single band of Sellotape fixing over the waist was more than enough to overcome her tiny muscles. Fuming impotently, arms banded down to her sides by the same tacky tape, Tracy watched as Fiona reached out for a reel of cotton like buttonhole thread. Cotton to Fiona;.. heavy duty rope if you were ten inches tall.

For the next twenty minutes, Tracy fought the sticky tape, but to no avail. Fiona blithely went about her business with a total lack of concern. The result was a wriggling naked Barbie doll meticulously bound from head to foot with a series of multi-turn cinches. But Fiona wasn't finished yet. Peeling off the sticky tape, she picked up the tiny woman and studied her at length. There was something else needed here, and as yet it hadn't come to mind. Faint squeaks of protest reminded her, and a small strip of the Sellotape over the tiny lips solved the problem. Now there was no way Tracy could influence her programmed mind. It was time for the final item of her doll's wardrobe.

Image 12

Fishing out a pre-prepared condom from David's jacket pocket, Fiona eased the tiny head into the end nipple, stretching and rolling until the sheath until Tracy's head was fully engulfed in the tight latex membrane. A minute cut out in the nipple provided an aperture for a nose. With infinite care Fiona began to roll the condom down her Tracy doll, smoothing and rolling so as to avoid the slightest wrinkle, until finally, the thick rim snapped around her ankles. Now came the tricky part, and gripping the wriggling Lilliputian female by the shoulders, Fiona pulled the condom way past her feet, then using a standard balloon tie, sealed the helpless woman into her sheath. For a while she simply enjoyed the feel of the semi rigid encapsulated arch rival, carelessly flipping the wriggling sausage like a baton in her hand. It was a marvellous sensation to have Tracy at her mercy in such a diabolically useable format. The poor dear couldn't even squeak, and she looked divine in that all encompassing diaphanous sheath.

Unable to contain her lustful needs any longer, Fiona crossed to the lounger and lay back with her living dildo. Eagerly, she coated the wriggling Barbie doll with hand cream, then realising that her pussy was already lubricated adequately, Fiona spread her legs and placed the frantically squirming object feet first against the pulsing cleft of her sex portal. At first Tracy managed to avoid the inevitable by flexing madly, but Fiona reached down and gripping her captives ankles with forefinger and thumb, she fed the bound legs into her salivating love nest.

Forefinger on Tracy's head, she eased the squirming female dildo inwards, gasping with indescribable pleasure as the soft resilient rubber sheathed mounds of Tracy's ample breasts nuzzled her pussy even wider and then slipped further in. Fiona felt her own finger brushing the soft curvatures of her labia. Glancing down she orgasmed instantly as the sight of Tracy's head, collared by her fleshy lobes came into view.

Squeezed and pummelled by the massive muscular contractions of Fiona's spontaneous orgasmic eruption, Tracy strained and writhed against her condom confinement, now supplemented by the elastic membrane of Fiona's convulsing love tube. The hot all enveloping pussy was devouring her. Many times she felt internal forces sucking powerfully on her super slippy rubber sheathed body as the leviathan love nest spasmed, and visions of being sucked into the whirlpool of Fiona's suffocating sex engine were uppermost in her mind. After what seemed like eternity, the tumultuous muscular activity declined, and a reshaping of the gripping tubular prison appraised her of the fact that Fiona was rearranging herself on the lounger. For a while she just lay back and tensed the muscles of her crotch, Unmindful of the angry face gripped in her pussy. Thrust deeply into the hot crevasse of her captor's sex tunnel, Tracy's head was clamped in a vice of hot flesh, the labial mounds squeezing her cheeks with each powerful contraction.

Fingers gripped her head gently, and the phallic female suddenly found herself being pumped in and out of the massive slick portal as Fiona relaxed in the intervening lull between what promised to be repeat orgasms. Tracy's tormentor, unmindful of the stresses and compression on her living dildo, continued with her lustful meditation. The thrusting abated with her partially withdrawn, and Tracy felt a monstrous finger tapping angrily against her bottom. The message was clear. Fiona wanted some action from her living dildo. Realising that she was extremely vulnerable to all manner of coercion in her present miniaturised state, Tracy obliged with some sensuous body undulations as the pussy pumping resumed and she slid in and out of the glutinous sex mouth.

Apparently she was doing something right. The muscle pulsing tunnel was reacting rapidly in both liquid secretions and increased levels of body pulping contractions.

Almost before she realised what had happened, Tracy felt her slithering, bound form fully retracted, and the gripping fingers move to her ankles. A second later she screamed against the gagging tape as the world went dark. Head first she found herself bulldozing into a hot black tunnel that seemed endless, her helpless body was being swallowed alive by an undulating conduit of lust. For an eternity, Fiona held her fully inserted, as massive muscle convulsions crushed and pulverised her form in waves of surging erotic energy. Her own demonic struggles to breath were just exciting the woman more. Suddenly a gigantic pulse of contraction savagely compressed her form and held her stiffly as the leviathan reached a shattering orgasm.

Just when it seemed her lungs would burst, Tracy was dragged from the pit of doom, her outer condom sheath dripping with the juice of undiluted carnal syrup. Both women were gasping, albeit for different reasons. Fiona eased back and contented herself by using her human dildo as a nipple tittillator, and Tracy had no choice but accept that her jutting head made a perfect tool for prodding and flipping the massive, daggering, blood engorged nodules. Occasionally, with the Sellotape mouth seal removed, she was forced to take the massive nodules into her mouth. It was a feat that required much jaw stretching and cheek packing to completely engulf each huge nipple. Fiona seemed to enjoy seeing her tiny captive's face exploding with an overfill of nipple. The result was that Tracy spent much of her time Sellotaped to a breast with a nipple packed face as Fiona played finger games with her own pussy.

This oral titillation was interspersed with bouts of cleavage rolling;.. her tiny cinched form having been placed between two mountains of Fiona's sumptuously generous breast tissue and the mountains pushed together. She grudgingly obliged with some wriggling as the malleable fleshy vice closed around her, and was duly congratulated by her tormentor as it had the required effect.

It was late afternoon before Fiona finally exhausted all her immediate plans for the miniaturised Tracy;.. by then it was time to go shopping. Whilst she readied herself, Fiona untaped the nodule suckling miniature, but warned her to maintain a grip. The bite of such a small female creature was negligible to her. Tracy had no choice but to hang on for dear life as the option of falling from a great height in her present form loomed large in her mind. It wasn't such a risk really. A mouth packed tight with engorged nipple wasn't going to slip easily past the huge throbbing packing. 

With Tracy swinging precariously from an oral suspension, Fiona dressed and pondered on how next to use her tiny toy. The wriggling, dangling, nipple ornament was nice, and Tracy's muffled efforts to scream abuse translated as delicious nipple tingles. As it happened, the orally vibrations were merely increasing the Lilliputian toy's problems as her nipple swelled even more with throbbing blood. Fiona glanced down to savour the bulging red cheeks of her tiny captive, but she decided that Tracy was infinitely more fun as a secret pussy insert.

Image 13

Atrial run with Tracy inserted feet first proved abortive. Unlike the dream sequence it was quickly discovered that an ultra slippy, latex sheathed pussy toy simply slid back out, and Fiona didn't want to wear knickers. She wanted Tracy to be nicely exposed in her humiliating condition, available for a quick finger tease at any time.

Her solution to the problem was not well received, and a madly flexing protest from the Barbie woman defied all Fiona's efforts to insert the squirming recalcitrant human dildo into her rear passage.

Taped face down to the table top, Tracy began to rue her earlier refusals to cooperate as her jutting rubber sheathed bottom received a thorough thrashing from a piece of string. Draped over a handy pencil and taped at neck, waist, thighs and ankles, she was powerless to prevent the abuse of her upward thrusting rump as the giant Fiona had a field day. 

Her backside throbbing inside its rubber covering, Tracy decided that co-operation would be a better and less painful option, and when released and offered to the tight daunting iris of her tormentors bottom, she stiffened obediently and allowed Fiona to re-grease her prior to insertion.

That in itself wasn't easy, but after much shoving, Tracy finally found herself engulfed by the tight powerfully muscled tunnel of Fiona's butt; buried deep and inextricably in a hot cylindrical prison of elastic membrane. The sphincter muscle gripped her neck tightly in a huge monstrously intimidating collar of powerful muscle. Already she had felt Fiona's warning twitches, a brief squeeze with the 'O' shaped muscle, and Tracy found herself collared to eye popping constriction as her head was held immovably between the massive walls of rounding flesh that were her captors buttocks.

Fiona eased herself up, and in so doing, inverted the tiny toy woman She jostled up and down to test the security of her rectally implanted toy, but there was no way Tracy could fall out now. An added bonus was discovered when an experimental walk across the room seemed to produce some delightful animation in her bound rectally compressed captive. But she didn't realise that it was Tracy's only way of telling her that all was not well. With her head firmly clamped between two massive buttock walls, the miniature woman found that walking motions by her host swivelled her head through 180 degrees as the tractive properties of rubber on naked flesh gripped and rolled her head from side to side. One minute she was buried nose deep in left buttock; there was a brief passing relief from suffocation as her nose passed through the dividing cleft,.. and then it was back to nose deep in right buttock. There was nothing she could do as her head was levered back and forth by the rolling buttocks of her antagonist.

Fiona seemed satisfied and busied herself dressing. Unfortunately, she chose a tight pencil skirt to hide the fact that she was knickerless if she should be required to bend down. That didn't help her unwilling passenger one bit. In fact the head rolling grip was worse with her captor's thighs and buttocks tightly compressed together. As Fiona wriggled into the tight confines of cloth, the massive fleshy lobes closed in leaving only a glimmer of light through the tight crack of her sculpted butt. Helplessly Tracy peered out from the crevasse of flesh as the distant light source reshaped with every move. Fiona's ass cleft was hot and sweaty, and the perspiration produced a slithering grasp on her tiny face. Tracy thanked God for small mercies. Fiona was a hygiene fanatic; .. her nether region was fresh and smelled sweetly of scented powder, despite the perspiration created by Exon's generally hot and humid climate.

The dressing finished, Fiona stood legs slightly apart to accentuate the tightness of her skirt and gave herself a final check over. Tracy took advantage of the cessation of neck-screwing activity and within the dim humid confines of the skirt, ears clamped tightly between bottom cheeks, she peered through the inverted chasm of Fiona's crotch at the huge hairy mound of her revealed pussy mound. Despite the gloom she could clearly see a new dew drop of passion juice easing from the blood engorged love lips, replacing an earlier streamer of flooding love juice as her captor savoured the impossible situation of her rectal dildo.

Tracy wriggled to ease her stiffened form, and instantly the powerful bottom cheeks seemed to expand and squash her face as Fiona tensed her rump. The super powerful sphincter muscle clenched and for a second Tracy was convinced that her tightly clamped neck would be pinched off and her head severed completely. Fiona held her in eye popping torment for almost a minute, savouring the effortless way in which she could chastise her wriggling implant without any effort at all. Relief for the anal captive came moments later as Fiona stooped to slip on her high heeled shoes. The buttocks parted, and for a few seconds her head was free of the fleshy vice, nudging against the taut cloth of the skirt as the bending movement left her poking out like a peg in a hole. Then it was back to head swivelling with a vengeance. The high heels added an even more pronounced rolling to Fiona's hip gyrations, and in turn, accelerated the rump animation to neck breaking levels. Her whole body was being mashed in a monstrous mincing vice as the shoes engineered a never ending gyration in the cavorting ass.

So that was how Tracy spent her first day out shopping with her competition for David's favours.

By her later estimates, Fiona had minced her way through three shopping centres before the change in her captive started to make itself felt. At first it was just a burgeoning heat in her crotch as the internal workings of a woman's rump minced powerfully on her sheathed form. But that quickly changed to a general body arousal as the massaging rectal tube worked its magic on her slippery outer sheath. Never before had she experienced such a comprehensive all-over massage of such powerful intensity Tracy found herself luxuriating in the masochistic sensation of being reduced to a woman's anal dildo, and without realising it, her distinctive licentious writhing was being correctly interpreted by her host. Fiona began to stop at every opportunity, seemingly window shopping, but in reality, using the excuse to torment her hidden passenger with more buttock squeezing. She smiled to herself as alien shoppers milled all around, oblivious to the fact that the Earth woman they had come to accept, had a living dildo thrust into her bottom.

In her dark musky chasm, Tracy was almost drowning as the copious flow of Fiona's love juice was carried backward through the cleft by her movements and conspired to find the lowest point, which unfortunately was Tracy's head. She was literally marinating in a sea of Fiona's arousal. The viscous liquid was finding its way into the small facial opening in the condom and had permeated throughout the rubber sheath, coating her bound naked body in a slimy coating of love juice.

Fiona moved on, this time at a rapid walk that had Tracy spasming over and over as she was helplessly minced and mashed by the cavorting walls of her elasticised living prison. She wasn't to know that Fiona herself was having major difficulties in controlling her mushrooming arousal, and at that very moment was hurrying to a secluded spot in the park so as to indulge in her own unbridled lust.

The rapid movement ceased abruptly as Fiona found a tree and leaned against it. Then, without warning, Tracy was subjected to a massive compression as the host women exploded into uncontrollable orgasmic muscle activity. Crushed repeatedly in convulsive rump clenching waves, and throttled by the tight gripping sphincter, Tracy endured and held her breath as she was pulverised by wave after wave of Fiona's explosive reactions. It was infectious, and micro seconds later, two women of widely differing sizes and situations were locked in a cycle of action and reaction as they fuelled each others lust.

Fiona reached the ultimate explosive conclusion in a series of body pulverising convulsive orgasmic adventures, and Tracy suffered the consequences as she was crushed remorselessly like a tube of toothpaste. Eyes bugging, breath crushed from her body, the hapless Tracy endured her own explosive response whilst compressed into total rigidity and with her neck clamped in a powerfully spasming sphincter vice.

The trip home was not uneventful. Fiona, mindful of the effects her flexing rear passage was having on her tiny passenger, was afraid to regenerate her hidden passenger's orgasmic writhing and repeat her own response to such deliciously pleasant feelings deep in her body. The walk required to reduce Tracy's stimulating transportation was little short of a waddle with bowed legs so as to reduce the friction and massage of her mincing rump. From a distance, the result was something akin to a woman who had wet her knickers.

Finally, they were both safe back at the apartment. Minutes later, a hot sexually drained condom sheathed Tracy lay wriggling on the table, whilst Fiona enjoyed a shower to rid herself of the perspiration of her eventful trip.

Unbeknown to Fiona, the latex sheath of her tiny toy woman was getting tighter by the second. Molecular compression had its limitations, and one of them was time. Tracy was steadily resuming her normal size. 

At two foot six, the strummingly tight, over stretched condom finally gave up the battle. Like a bursting balloon Tracy emerged from her cocooned state in a trice as the latex flew apart. The cotton cords binding her also capitulated to the massive tensile strain of trying to contain the rapidly accelerating growth of the bound woman long before the resilient latex succumbed to the inevitable. Malevolently staring at the bathroom door, Tracy allowed her body to reach a reasonable size, then climbed down from the table as the strain of her rapidly increasing weight tested its strength to the limits.

✠	✠	✠

Chapter Nine
Reversal

Fiona was humming happily to herself as she wafted out of the bathroom. For an instant, the sight of a split empty condom impinged on her brain, and then the lights went out as a kaleidoscope of stars exploded in her brain.

Senses returned slowly, and somewhat painfully, as her head finally cleared to leave a dull ache. No doubt the result of an impact with something heavy. Her first appreciation of anything visually tangible was a triumphant leering Tracy standing over her. Memories flooded back as she tried to rise to the perceived threat. A forlorn hope. Something completely unyielding was holding her rigidly in check.

A shiver of apprehension ran through her as she mentally took account of her position. Lying on her back, legs pulled up past the sides of her torso, and ankles secured some where alongside her ears, didn't offer much in the way of privacy or reassurance. Fiona could feel the backs of her thighs trembling with both tension and trepidation, but two inch Gee- couch straps cinched tightly down held her immovably offered. 

"Welcome back you scheming bitch. My turn now I think."

Fiona squirmed and made some waffling unintelligible sounds past her mouth filling. It felt as if her face was about to explode with the over abundance of foreign matter packed into her oral cavity. Seemingly Tracy had been at a loss for somewhere to store her used knickers and a pair of stockings. All of which had finally ended up behind the gaping teeth of her adversary. Fearfully Fiona surveyed the triumphant women standing over her with a feeling of deepening dread. There was no question of Tracy hurting her, other than the bite of superbly cinched straps or some other form of tight restraint in the future. But on the erotic overload matter, Fiona was in doubt as to the excruciating levels her body would be forced to attain, given the diabolically inventive nature of her captor; .. not to mention a scheming super computer who seemed to be in cahoots with Tracy. Already the pre-programming of her mind was releasing massive doses of sexual heat into her crotch as a result of the reversed situation. No matter how much trepidation she felt at her helplessness, the thought of once more being a plaything of this shapely woman was firing up her masochistic libido to horrendous levels. In fact, Tracy was already plotting her demise by telepathic link with the electronic lecher Thursk. Had she been aware of that, Fiona might have felt less inclined to indulge in her submissive fantasies

Thursk as it happened, was telepathically advising Tracy that David was returning early from his wanderings. Having thought the whole thing over, he'd decided that Fiona had to go if he wanted to save their relationship. The idea of losing her newly acquired toy mate so soon was scoring no Brownie points with a highly aroused Tracy, and she was looking to the electronic lecher for an answer. Thursk was in complete agreement with her. However, the available options Thursk was coming up with bore more relationship to the ravings of a jealous lover than those of a rational, logic orientated piece of hardware. Almost all of his solutions demanded the removal of David by various methods. All except one that offered a temporary avenue of escape from making an early choice between David and Fiona. Thursk informed her that a Gamma 4 Scout ship was available in the docking bay of Exon's main space patrol centre only three blocks distant. His solution was that they should all take a short sight seeing tour whilst an alternative plan was forged to resolve the conflict of interests. Tracy accepted without argument, and within seconds, Thursk had hacked into the Exon space directive computer and added authorisation for the flight. As it happened, his movable intelligence core was stored at the centre, and boarding required no more than a 'READY' command to have his active brain component electronically transferred to the ship. Tracy and Fiona took a little longer. But it was hardly a problem. A guest crew used to moving and handling trussed women from Earth with strange concepts on normal behaviour, hardly raised an eyebrow when they were called to transport the wriggling Fiona to a waiting scout ship. Tracy grinned broadly as her incapacitated rival was carried into the small flight deck and unceremoniously dumped butt down into a Gee couch. In addition to her restraint straps, she soon had an overlay of couch straps just to add to her confinement. It was hardly a demure position. Face hidden by her own rising ankles, feet pointing to the deck-head and her charms blatantly displayed for all to see. It didn't help matters to be plonked down on a thrusting dildo, positioned by Tracy and engulfed by her own descending pussy as the helpers dumped her in the couch. The transport team left, and after indulging herself in a few stinging slaps to the tautly offered under thighs, Tracy busied herself preparing for take off. The flight plan filed by Thursk was for a solar system grand tour taking in all seventeen planets of the triple Sun system. In a Gamma 4 ship such a sight seeing journey could be accomplished in two days. Ample time for Tracy to work out an alternative to David's uncompromising solution which required her giving up this fabulous female toy.

Thursk informed her that all was ready, and after a brief check to make sure that his precious cargo was safely strapped in, he lifted the Scout ship from the pad and sent it soaring into the vermillion tinted skies of Exon. Minutes later the tiny moon Dopplos was flashing by their starboard view ports, and then it was onward into the starry wastes of interplanetary space. The trip to the first port of call, Diemor, would take two hours. Ample time to have a little more fun with Fiona. Tracy released the couch straps and moved over to a nervously expectant Fiona and leered down.

"Thursk! Adjust the cabin environment to zero Gee. Let's see what my little bound playmate can do in a weightless situation."

Her hands quickly released the hold-down straps as she spoke, carefully avoiding the underlaying restraints that would maintain Fiona folded and helpless. A loud suckling sound reverberated around the cabin as a hot, well lubricated phallic toy was jerked irreverently from the clutching pussy. 

Effortlessly, she hoisted the trussed woman and then, as if undecided on what exactly she wanted do with the floating toy, her eyes searched the cabin looking for inspiration. A thrusting joystick on the locked-out manoeuvring thruster panel brought a gleam to her eye. Not only was it perfectly positioned, but it also had a nicely sculpted finger grip shape to the hand grip.

Fiona's eyes opened wide as her intended impalement became clear, and the muffled waffling protest rose in volume. But to no avail. Positioning her with some difficulty, her own body braced against various objects so as to gain purchase in the null gee conditions, Tracy raised her load and then literally jammed the straining woman down onto the waiting phallic column.

Fiona's eyes bulged as the cool moulding of the hand grip bulldozed her tight pussy lips apart. The hesitation of impalement caused by her fleshy resistance was minimal, and with hardly a pause she found her love tube stretched and filled as the shaped stick plunged deeply to her core. 

Tracy's hands left her body as the other woman stood back to admire the effect. Fiona looked cute hovering on her improvised pussy pivot, and no matter how much she squirmed, the friction created by the undulations of the grip within her clutching love tube was sufficient to hold her in check and thoroughly impaled. Tracy reached out and slapped a handy bottom cheek, then laughed out loud as the lack of gravity converted the imparted energy into a rotary movement. Devastated at the possibilities, Fiona spun slowly on the plundering shaft, grimacing as the random shaping of the finger grip remodelled her delicate internal membranes with each turn. It took several minutes for the motion to stop as the only friction present was the negligible drag of a super slippy, well lubricated love tube. Tracy was ecstatic, and prompted by a lusting ever watchful Thursk, she retrieved a paddle from the gear brought aboard and commenced to accelerate Fiona with timed, well aimed strokes. In little or no time at all, the skewered beauty was rotating at a creditable rate of revolutions as the joystick reamed her slavering sex tube. Joystick was perhaps an apt title, given its current usage.

An hour later, the reddened rump of Fiona hung motionless, poised inches above the console, and maintained in position by her pivotal joystick insert. Movement of her trussed form would probably have eventually imparted an upward thrust sufficient to extract herself from the thrusting column, now that it was well lubricated with her own juices. However, Tracy, astute as ever, had quickly negated that possibility. A thin glittering steel safety line clipped to her vulnerable clitoris ensured that she could rise no higher without dire consequences to her jutting clit.

Like a giant phallic symbol, the folded form of Fiona hovered impotently in her vertical mode. She was a most becoming and unusual sight to be sure. But not content with a mere ornament, Tracy quickly discovered that any movement in the co-pilot's joystick was mimicked faithfully by Fiona's pussy plundering stick. It was great fun to jerk the unadorned stick around and watch as her bound toy reacted and was angled to various uncomfortable modes by way of her mobilised pussy pivot. 

Eventually the hard-working, joystick-waggling Tracy succumbed to the softness of a gee couch, unaware that Thursk was already scheming his way towards the ultimate control and possession of both his human companions.

Unbeknown to either, he had deliberately nudged the ship away from its intended course and plotted in a route that would take close to the second Sun. Close, but not dangerously close. However, to the uninitiated Tracy, the nearness of that raging giant ball of fusion fire would be a frightening experience.

Warning bleepers awakened the slumbering Tracy. The cabin was ablaze with flashing lights as she struggled to shrug off the pleasant dreams and get to grips with reality. A little skulduggery by Thursk in resetting safe distance warning parameters ensured a pyrotechnical display of light that was guaranteed to gain the instant attention of his intended female conquests.

Tracy stared at the sea of angry lights with incomprehension, then quickly checked that Fiona was still safely impaled.

"What is it Thursk? What's happening?" Thursk delayed answering to heighten her anxiety and give an image that he was struggling with massive problems.

"Sun spot! The second Sun threw out an unpredicted solar flare and the gravity well caused by the collapse has dragged us in too close." For a computer generated lie it was a winner. Gobbledegook to any informed space pilot, but impressively frightening to Tracy.

"So fix it. Pull us away before we crash. For God's sake Thursk, pull- --!" Her cries of alarm went unfinished as Thursk interrupted.

"I can't. The Gee forces are beyond our current thrust capabilities. We can't pull away. The best I can do is to hold orbit and hope Exon control can get here with a space tug before we burn up." Tracy glanced at the massive fiery orb filling the view ports.

"How long before we fry Thursk?" There was a silence, then a matter- of-fact monotone computer answered.

"Fifteen minutes, but only twelve minutes before our heat shielding fails and the temperature becomes untenable. Before you ask, Exon can't reach us with a tug in less than thirty-nine minutes."

The cabin echoed with silence as the full impact hit both Tracy and her incapacitated, hovering, pussy-parked friend.

"Is there nothing you can do?" Tracy's voice was trembling, tinged with a mixture of fear and irony. Just when life really seemed to be hotting up, she looked like ending up as barbecued chick.

"There's one small chance. If we can boost the main engine output by six percent, we might have enough to pull clear." Tracy swung to face the impassive surface of the computer console.

"Then do it you electronic palooka. Stop talking about it and do it." Thursk allowed a moments silence before answering.

"It will require the help of either you, or your friend. The only way we can increase power is to inject a massive increase in Alpha modulation waves." Tracy stood uncomprehending for a while, and then slowly turned her face towards the skewered Fiona.

"Female generated Alpha waves?" It was a statement more than a question.

"Affirmative. One of you would have to volunteer to return to a modulator valve." Thursk added a little motivation.

"Eleven minutes to shield failure. Hull temperature now rising past 10,000 degrees Kelvin."

It took another ten minutes to install the violently protesting Fiona in her modulator tube, but with a minute to spare, or so it appeared to a completely convinced Tracy, they were ready to power up the straining glass encapsulated female.

With something akin to glee, Tracy watched as the trussed woman stiffened with the first burst of undeniable arousal from Thursk. Five minutes later, and with Fiona's environmental gasses virtually glowing as a result of the awesome levels of stimulation, Tracy was viewing the looming Sun with worried eyes.

"Thursk, we're not moving. We're not pulling away." Thursk's tone was somewhat condescending as he acknowledged her appraisal of the situation.

"We are, but not quickly enough. We would pull clear in a little over seventeen minutes, but unfortunately our shields will have failed before that; even with the reduction in heat as we pull away." Tracy urged him to push Fiona still higher, but Thursk declined. Not because he couldn't, but because he had another strategy in mind.

"Any increase in present levels will kill her. The only chance we have is if you add your input." There was a poignant silence as Tracy first scanned the Sun and then turned her eyes fearfully to the empty glass tube of a second modulator valve. Then she shrugged. What the hell. Better to endure a few minutes or hours of almost unendurable pleasure than to be roasted as they plummeted into the Sun.

"OK! But only until we pull clear, and then you get me out."

Thursk's reply projected an offended air.

"But of course. But you must hurry. I'll instruct the drone to assist in installation."

It was but a short time later that a stringently trussed and electrode encrusted Tracy heard the seals snap shut around the base of her modulator capsule. Seconds later, that indefinable feeling of well being crept over her body as the nutritional gaseous mix that would sustain her flowed into the containment vessel and prepared her for usage. She felt her pussy twitching with a nervous yet anticipatory dread.

In a matter of seconds, as soon as the pre-purge sequence was over, those devilish electronic signals from Thursk would be pouring into her nether regions and driving her insane with an unattainable prize of orgasmic bliss.

"UUUUUUMMMMMMpppppppppphhhhhhhhhhh!”

The breath whooshed out of her as a massive surge of irresistible carnal sensation started the melt-down of her helplessly presented pussy. Thursk was obviously not sparing any time for a slow warm up. Tracy screamed her angry response to his callous control, but to no avail. Thursk ignored the outburst and simply increased demand. He powered her to demonic levels of activity in microseconds. Her body heaved and strained with titanic effort; .. pointless effort as it transpired.. The drone had done its job with bone crushing efficiency.

Sweating, screaming and straining; poised on the precipice of a cataclysmic orgasm that she could never attain, Tracy found herself reconsidering the choice of fates as catastrophic levels of lustful torment buffeted her beleaguered form. On and on it went, hour after hour with no escape. Only then, through the swirling mists of delirious arousal did the truth begin to dawn. Thursk had engineered them into his clutches and there was no escape.

Her thoughts must have been picked up by the telepathic link, for almost instantly, she could feel the mirth transmitted by the gleeful electronic rapist. Thursk was having a ball with his toys, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

The Sun he had used to con them into this plight was far behind. Using only the half the power the scout ship had available without their help, he had pulled them clear with consummate ease. Now with the tiny vessel rocketing forward under its new enhanced Alpha input, he was speeding away from the pursuit ships sent out by Exon. The clandestine flight plan injected into the space directive computer had been discovered.

Thursk was unperturbed. Even without the scout's exceptional female- boosted speed, they could never catch him before he reached the objective. A class three space warp lay dead ahead. It was a region long deemed out of bounds by space directives of many planets due to the unpredictable nature of its time-distance warping effects. The scout sped straight into the wavering maw of the energy field with both modulator women running at full power and bathed in the incandescent glow of their own output. For a while, time and space stood still as reality and material mass took on a nebulous form. Then as suddenly as they had entered, the tiny ship was free and in clear space.

Thursk relaxed his vigilant survey of the rearward scanners. No self respecting space pilot from Exon would follow them now. He was alone in the vastness of another dimension with his two most precious toys, the Earth women; .. probably thousands of light years from the point of entry and aeons different in time. But seeing as he had no intention of going back, the remoteness and date was of little consequence.

With something akin to a joyful chuckle, Thursk powered them both down and savoured their plight. Mentally he linked and revelled in the telepathic pleas for release from their torment. But each time he simply re-energised them and held the power levels at high as they writhed and moaned in unending arousal.

For the first time in his association with these Earthlings, he began to enjoy the sensation known as sadistic pleasure, and for weeks he studied the subject at length. Occasionally he would use the new found technology of orgasmic Alpha production, but relief denied output, although lower in intensity, was more fun for a sadistically inclined computer.

For some indefinable reason he felt good when he turned the women up. There was nothing they could do to stop him, and the power to maintain them at mind-bending levels of denial was like a surge of electronic energy racing through his circuits. Increased levels of pleading from the women seemed to enhance the strange new feeling of sadistic enjoyment. 

Later, Thursk refined the process to extract maximum pleasure. Fixing the duration of maximum and minimum stimulation, he began to control them like a pair of lamp wicks. The result was exquisite torment as the women accepted the timing and were able to predict just when the next searing waves of indescribable pleasure were liable to come. The knowing and not being able to avoid it made it all the worse; .. or better, depending on who's point of view one was looking from. Thursk was most definitely pleased. This new sadism sensation looked like being a milestone in self- awareness computing. Thursk's thoughts were interrupted as increased telepathic activity from the modules heralded their perception of the next rapidly approaching onset of a wind up period. Gleefully, he tuned all available circuits to receive and basked in the glow of pleasant feelings generated by their inescapable plight as the chip timer setting ran out. 

"UUUUUUrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmppppph! NNNNNrrrrrrrr!" A duel cacophony of telepathic sound hit his receptors as the encapsulated women exploded into writhing torment. Within seconds the upward pointing pussies were a cauldron of seeping carnal lava, hot juices streaking down the rubber sheathed thighs as buttock muscles danced a frenzied mindless lust generating movement. Thursk ruthlessly wound the stimulation input to maximum and engaged the drive as massive Alpha output surged from the modulators.

Zooming and swooping, Thursk deliberately aimed the ship at a nearby asteroid belt, and spent the next hour indulging in a crazed flight path that was the equivalent of a drunk driver. In effect, that is exactly what it was. Unable to cope with the heady input of sadistic fantasy visions, he was effectively inebriated.

Two desperately traumatised females recognised the symptoms, but were powerless to intervene as their own horrendously unwanted output merely fuelled the electronic drunk to greater levels. Any attempt at admonishment by telepathic link immediately brought retribution as Thursk supercharged their spasming pussies with even stronger signals of irresistible arousal. It was a cycle of cause and effect. The more torment that was poured in, the drunker he got. Something just had to give.

In the end, the forces of inevitability lent a helping hand to the suffering females. Playing tag with an asteroid belt ran the inevitable the risk of eventually meeting a chunk of rock that was following a random path. Thursk and his fem-powered scout ship was no exception.

A chunk of space debris the size of a car ricocheted off the starboard ion thruster outlet, fracturing the radiation shielding that protected the crew. Instantly on board safety devices cut in and killed the engine before the deadly radiation could effect the occupants. Unfortunately, the loss of that engine at that precise moment couldn't have been more inopportune. Thursk was swinging the ship in a violent curve to avoid a flight path that would lead then straight to a planet hovering on the outer reaches of the belt. Centrifugal force took over, and without the power to combat the immense forces, their trajectory straightened out onto a course that would lead them directly into conflict with the gravitational forces of the planet. 

Dragged out of his lustful reverie by the impending disaster, Thursk quickly calculated the options, whilst in their glass prisons, two exhausted women thanked the Lord for a brief cessation in their never-ending cycle of torment. But it was to be short lived. In microseconds, Thursk had calculated the power needed to break clear. Leaving an orbital trajectory would present no problems in circumnavigating the planet. But given the insane velocity in the supercharged female powered ship, the arrow straight course directed at the core, and the nearness to the looming planet, the scout ship simply didn't have sufficient thrust with one ion drive inoperative. At best they were committed to a controlled crash landing. Even that was going to require all the power he could squeeze from an overworked functional drive.

Almost gleefully, he calculated the input required, and arrived at anAlpha level thirty percent higher than anything the two women had ever produced before. This required full orgasmic output. Receptive telepathic female modulators were of course privy to his mind meandering, and the contemplation of what was to come sent them into paroxysms of effort in an attempt to escape from the apocalyptic event he planned for their exquisitely controlled forms.

He quickly removed the orgasm blockers in their brains and engineered a carnal explosion of unprecedented proportions. All sensors measuring the Alpha wave generation simply went right off the clock as he channelled the dual output into the one engine and prepared to energise to two helpless modulators to even higher levels.

It eased his conscience to think that it was an unavoidable necessity, yet at the same time, his newly discovered interest in the phenomenon of sadistic pleasure blossomed.

Almost savagely Thursk switched both modulators from rest to maximum input on all connections. The resultant almost explosive response and piteous wails were music to his electronic surveillance nodes. For a second or two, he allowed the visual scanners to pan over the pulsing glass encased bottoms, easing the inputs up even more, and in doing so, escalating the wails to a screeching, imploring, cacophony of lustful audio output as both women were driven far beyond the realms of normal endurance when they exploded into perpetual orgasmic eruption.

Abruptly, sensory warnings of close proximity mass intruded on Thursk's fun, and switching off all audio and visual inputs emanating from the tormented glass contained females, he left them at full orgasmic throttle as he prepared to wrestle the crippled ship down onto the surface of the looming planet.

For an hour, the scout ship jinked and skipped from the outer reaches of the atmosphere as Thursk desperately tried to bleed off excess velocity, but finally the massive gravity pull and drag from the outer atmosphere began to pull them in despite the seething output of two volcanic women. 

Maintained at a mind-bending level of activity, Fiona and Tracy screamed and writhed as their bodies were milked of the Alpha waves by a voracious, overworked single engine. Unheard, and screened from the outside world, the tough banding and over-stressed rubber of their confinement generated a constant sound level from overworked straining fabrics. Given the colossal efforts to escape the torment by the occupants, it was a miracle that they held, despite being of an incredibly strong material as yet unknown on Earth.

Truth be known, Thursk was disappointed when the time came to start the final descent. The images of dripping pussies and madly flexing bottoms in those glass containers was most enjoyable, more so because he could justify what he was doing to the two captives in his attempt to save their lives. The fact that he had deliberately bounced the scout ship off the outer atmosphere twice more than was needed was irrelevant; a manoeuvre that was not really necessary in any landing attempt. But that small detail seemed to be discarded in any self condemnation.

A red glow suffused itself over the view ports, unseen by either traumatised tube occupant, and ignored by Thursk, who had sensor input that appraised of the searing heat generated by re-entry.

The little scout ship buffeted violently as shock waves of atmosphere began to build with the increasing density.

For both women it was a terrifying new development. At present, the ship was in free fall, and their beleaguered forms were at rest and able to sense new movement now that the terrible denial had abated. There was no way they could know if the attempt to escape a fatal crash landing had been successful, and to their minds the buffeting effects of re-entry could just as easily herald their inescapable fate as two neatly folded pre-packed roast chicklets. New writhing movement developed in the glass covered columns of womanhood, but this time endowed with a desperate jerking frenzy as they tried to escape the perceived fate. It lasted but a few moments before Thursk demanded power for the retro rockets that would slow the descent. It took but a small flick of an electronic gate in his brain, a mere flicker of reversed charge in a silicone semiconductor to convert the two incredibly contained females to exploding volcanoes of erupting lust.

Again, that strange thrilling sensation pulsed through his circuits as the ease with which he could control their entire being was rekindled. Just for the hell of it, he indulged himself a while longer and switched them on and off several times as his visual and audio receptors eagerly absorbed the effects. There was something so satisfying about seeing them stiffening just prior to the demonic writhing, and hearing the whooshing gasp of breath as their pussies literally detonated with licentious feeling. It was something no Earth woman had ever experienced before. From cold to instant orgasm in a split second.

Powerless to resist the carnal input to their pleasure receptors, both women could only endure as they were regularly detonated like orgasmic bombs.

Fingers curling, muscles straining, and thrusting bottom muscles creaking with effort, they could do nothing as their cinched forms were used for Thursk's enjoyment. Perhaps even worse than actually being energised was the wait in between, knowing that at any second that mischievous computer could just switch on their most potent feelings and animate them as easily as one would switch on a pair of light bulbs. 

"MMMmmmmmpppphhh!" The surge of electronically induced sexual energy ignited the women yet again, and throbbing blood engorged pussy lips began the demonic pouting ritual of begging for cessation from the searing torment. Unable to resist the electronically orchestrated muscular contractions on their nether regions, both women could only endure as their suckling pussy lips took on a mind of their own and attempted to devour the massive dildo implants. Vibrantly taut buttocks pumped powerfully, and the neat exposed orifices of their rear entry puckered and pouted as the carnal onslaught gained momentum. Like giant animated peaches balanced in black ice-cream cones of rubber, the luxurious thrusting rear ends performed their dance of excruciating denial. Breasts, unseen, crushed to knees by the powerful banding, and endowed with more devilish connections, pumped never ending torrents of arousing sensations into the beleaguered forms.

Eventually, the laws of astrophysics intervened. Dragged inexorably into the gravity well, the scout ship needed all the power their gyrating forms could supply in order to survive. Demands for more Alpha waves in a constant flow forced Thursk to leave them energised continually to maximum output. The rippling rubber containment sheaths were soon awash with coursing streams of surplus hot female love syrup as the volcanoes of womanhood bubbled and frothed with cataclysmic orgasms.

For once, Thursk found himself unable to enjoy the erotic scene. His full powers of concentration were demanded by the complex calculations required to guide the crippled ship to a survivable landing. His receptors were deaf to the rising cacophony of sound emanating from the glass vessels as both women were callously driven to the point of madness by the irresistible demands of the throttles.

The ship broke through dense low lying cloud after a turbulent descent through the upper reaches of the atmosphere, its outer skin scorched and tarnished by the intense heat of a re-entry more than twice the speed of any design spec. But it had survived. Using all the power he could wring from the female superchargers, Thursk killed the speed with retro's and searched for a spot to set them down. As it happened, he never got the chance to choose. A tall tree smashed into the hull and sent the small craft yawing crazily out of control. What followed was a seemingly never- ending series of colossal impacts as the scout ship caroomed into the ground and cartwheeled for several hundred yards before coming to rest as two separate units.

The great brain of Thursk was still. Both primary and backup power was gone. With it went the vital life support mandates and all sensory control of the women inscribed in his memory. Two very grateful females suddenly felt the cessation to their horrendous torment. For a while elation reined as they realised that they had survived. But then a far more ominous plight dawned on their befuddled brains. For a short while the ship's emergency life support computer had cut in and ensured their survival. Unfortunately the power reserves were low, and acting on prime directives, the computer began to shut down all non essential equipment. 

Unlike Thursk, this computer was in comparison a mental midget. Two Alpha modulators were classified as engine components, and as they were no longer in flight, had become non essential items. Tracy and Fiona struggled valiantly to make the presence of life forms known, but to no avail. They were simply switched off and all connections to their capsules disconnected. For an hour at best, the nutrient atmosphere of the containers might support them, but after that it was certain death as the life given oxygen component was exhausted.

Outside the ship, the air was still and quiet. Only the faint tinkling of cooling metal disturbed the silent glade. It was devoid of fauna that had made a hurried exit when the little ship made its calamitous landing. Then, unseen by the panicking women in the containment vessels, the foliage moved and curious eyes stared out with something akin to terrified trepidation.

The eyes multiplied as more gained courage, and soon the wreckage was surrounded by inquisitive inhabitants of the forest; .. humanoid inhabitants who stared in wonderment at the shattered hull and two glass containers which appeared to contain some form of oddly deformed humanoid females.

What manner of strange creatures could these people from the sky be to travel in such a strange way? And why were they so tightly sealed in those black sheaths; .. sheaths that were rippling and glistening in the sunlight with continuous movement from within?

It took but a short time for courage to return to the inquisitive hoard, and soon the writhing female filled containers were surrounded by awestruck faces of a farming community.

Fortunately, one of the onlookers recognised the symptoms of oxygen starvation. The pulsing of the folded bodies was quickening as they watched. It was obvious that these creatures were fighting for breath. He spoke quickly in a strange tongue and the others drew back to let him through. After studying the seals intently, the man drew a knife and began to prise at the visible crack on the base of Fiona's cylinder. Twenty minutes later there was a loud hiss, and the frenzied pulsing of the creature within rapidly slowed to a reasonable level. Seconds later, after an urgent command, several knives attacked the other cylinder, and within minutes Tracy's seal gave up the struggle.

The leader figure stood up and studied the two glass encased forms with satisfaction. Both were exhibiting all the signs of measured breathing. He was pleased. Seeing that for now these creatures were safe, his inquisitive nature led him to investigate the wreck further. Within minutes the astute brain of the leader had connected the severed leads on the capsules to the similarly coloured leads trailing from a mechanical looking box in the wreck. Being a farmer, his technical knowledge of electronics, science, and state of the art technology bordered on zero, but as with most who lived on the land, he had that uncanny knack of figuring things out; at least to a level needed to carry on everyday life.

Putting two and two together, he came up with five and figured that the temporary reprieve achieved by breaching the seals would have to be rectified if the strange creatures from the sky were to live. The cylinders would have to be reconnected to this life support machine as soon as possible.

He gave orders to the others, and for the next hour coloured cables were traced back until every piece that could be associated with the capsules was collected together and placed in a heap by the capsules. The man could have no idea that not only had they collected all the essential parts required to rebuild a crude Thursk, they'd also included a nuclear emergency power-pack capable of running the electronic brain for thousands of years. In addition were the self recharging nutrition packs that could extract and modify all the encapsulated women needed from any reasonable atmosphere by way of respiration and nutrients.

The mass of gear and the two cylinders of womanhood were swiftly loaded on to a flat farm cart that had been summoned, and the whole excited throng and their wondrous find were soon trundling towards a nearby town.

Within the hour, the council members of the farming community were studying the wondrous collection with astounded eyes. Of particular interest were the short alien forms that would probably be almost as tall as they were if they existed in a straightened format. It was decided that these strange folded beings would die if they were detached from their weird devices and opened out, so the wise men of the village contented themselves with merely extracting them from the tubes for inspection and rolling them around a bit.

Strange noises emanating from the forms advised them to be cautious as the survey continued. Obviously the beings were very much alive judging by the amount of rippling squirming movement visible. The thing that really mystified them was the fact that this species seemed to have the reproductive organs on the end of the body instead of half way up. Speculation as to what the other gender of the species must look like defied their best efforts to decipher. As it happened, the word had spread. A sound of approaching engines heralded the approach of authority. Army personnel, and big shots from the scientific fraternity had arrived to claim the prize. Next stop for the squirming helpless females was a research facility. They could only hope that someone managed to figure out that these aliens who crashed on their planet had a normal life format that was pretty much the same as their own. Maybe then they would get to escape the tight confines of Thursk's Modulator valves and resume a relatively normal life as human females.

Thus ends the pilot episode of Aliens. The story gathers momentum in

'STARBURST-ONE'

✠	✠	✠

PRITCHARD 8000
By GORD

CHAPTER ONE
THE PRITCHARD 8000

Ray Pritchard sat hunched over the bench, his small frame dwarfed by the mass of metal and plastic facing him; .. a gleaming wall of modern technology covering most of the rear wall of his electronics workshop. A central panel proudly bore the legend 'PRITCHARD 8000' emblazoned on a large plaque set into its surface. The vast majority of the visible area was taken up by small slots that housed complex printed circuit boards. The only clue to the function of this monolith of electronics lay in the small insignificant keyboard and a bevy of monitors situated slightly to the right of Ray's concentrating figure.

This was his brainchild. It was the culmination of a lifetime of obsession with robotics and artificial intelligence. Pritchard 8000 was a clone of the mighty IBM-89094 NASA computer; .. controller and architect of many space missions. The 89094 could carry out calculations in seconds that would have taken a team of mathematicians centuries to unravel. Yet when compared to the 8000, it was the equivalent of an abacus. The primary design concept of 8000 was the simultaneous control of production in all fifty-two plants of the Japanese car giant 'Yamatsu'. The duties envisaged included all robotics, car construction, accounting, materials movements, requisitions, planning, communications and design. In fact everything one could think of to keep the giant company running smoothly.

In theory, humans didn't even need to be in attendance. Now after four years of planning and building, the project was complete save for a few final details; .. details that Ray was calculating and final checking, prior to programming into the insatiable memory of the machine. As he worked, the computer hummed quietly, whilst behind him and on the other side of a toughened glass window lay the robotics test bed; a huge long hall of silent machines waiting patiently beside a wide conveyor running straight up the middle between their silent metal arms. The conveyor was stopped and empty save for the strange shaped object resting at the very beginning of the belt.

Ray paused in his work, straightened up, and reached behind his head as he began to massage the back of his neck. Raising his other arm at the same time he began circling his bent elbow to ease the stiffness in an aching shoulder joint that was protesting at the inactivity of remaining crouched at a desk for several hours. Swivelling his seat Ray looked down to the shop floor, his eyes drawn immediately to the object on the conveyor. At first glance it would appear to have been a complex piece of machinery. A mass of tubes and welded plates with a central core of rounded neoprene curves and bulges. Every inch of the surface of this core object sprouted thousands of connections and sensors. Pipes and heavy looms of cable grew from various positions and snaked downward to disappear into Plessey plugs and Ermeto connections in the base of the machine.

Image 14

It was only after studying this core mass for several minutes that one could perceive a shape vaguely reminiscent of a human being, albeit a rather overweight one; .. something akin to the bulbous Michelin Man of past tyre advertising campaigns. Reaching out with his recently exercised arm, Ray flicked a switch and turned to look at a monitor screen above the glass portal as the screen lightened. An image began to form, supplied by the baleful eye of a camera trained on the round bulbous mass that formed the head of this humanoid shape.

The screen cleared, and Ray found himself looking at the close-up picture of a beautiful set of female eyes framed by the 3" thick wall of rubber encasing the head. As he studied these features, Ray's mind wandered back to the years and days leading up to this moment and to the events that had placed his stunning wife Celeste on the other end of that video link.

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CHAPTER TWO
TRIALS OF LIFE

Ray met Celeste some three years before at a computer convention, where she had been introduced to him as the personal assistant of the Halcom Computer giant's managing director.

Whilst he instantly fell in love with her bewitching eyes and sensuously stunning figure; she on the other hand assessed his own stature with a cool appraising eye. The man Celeste saw was not an attractive tall strong man, but rather a bespectacled, small nervous figure of unimpressive carriage. However, this was not sufficient to destroy her interest in the man; .. a man she knew to be a genius; and a very wealthy one at that. As the evening drew on she'd made it obvious with her close proximity and attentive banter that she was indeed interested in further contact. 

The marriage was a whirlwind affair that took place some three scant weeks after the first encounter; thereafter moving rapidly on to a riotous honeymoon where love and sex took place almost anywhere, with gay abandon and no regard for the feelings of others who were sometimes present when the urge took hold.

By the time they returned a month later, they were banned from most hotels in Singapore and were informed that their continued patronage was no longer desired by two different airlines. And so it continued.

The first six months of the marriage were a frenzy of tumultuous love making with neither of the cavorting lovers giving much thought to anything beyond the bedroom door. But slowly the pace began to slacken; and with this slowing came the realisation that work was piling up at the office as a reluctant Ray left a clinging Celeste at the front door on his way to the factory.

For almost a year after that, married life seemed to settle down to a steady pace. Ray, having completed many successful contracts, enjoyed spending money on his unbelievable prize wife. He was never far from the bedroom or a handy couch as her insatiable appetite for sex put intolerable demands on his body. Doggedly, Ray attempted to cope with the demand and revelled in his wife's sexual inventiveness. He refused to admit defeat, or admit to himself that he was beginning to struggle as the demands at work steadily sapped his sex drive and diverted it into the other love of his life. Inexorably, the increasing demands of the design and construction required for Pritchard 8000 absorbed more of his time, blinding him to the subtle changes that were showing in Celeste's manner as he returned home each evening.

Tired and weary after struggling with the immense problems of his project, he became immune to her advances. The outcome was inevitable. Soon they embarked on their first row, and Ray, angry that his wife couldn't see that this project temporarily took precedence over their lovemaking, stormed out in a rage. An uneasy truce prevailed. Ray, believing that she had accepted his logic, continued with the project to the detriment of their lovemaking.

Some six months passed before he became aware that all was not right, or even noticed that Celeste was rarely at home when he arrived; often not returning until the early hours of the morning;.. if at all! He'd questioned her about it; got nowhere, and in desperation eventually hired a private detective to record her activities whilst he was at work.

A month later, Ray sat quietly in his office in a state of shock as he read the report submitted on his wife's clandestine activities. So far the had uncovered and photographed activities with twelve different lovers and a wealth of information concerning kinky activities with rubber, leather, bondage, corporal punishment, dungeons, and a whole series of other games associated with sex. That devious mousy little runt had even managed to gain access to her medical records, and it was with some dismay that Ray read of her clinical certification as a nymphomaniac.

Without moving from his chair, Ray sat for the whole night. His mind was in turmoil as he struggled to come to grips with the inevitable loss he would eventually suffer as he became increasingly unable to cope with his beloved wife's insatiable demands. For hours, he sat searching for an answer. Until, in the cold early hours of the morning, the beginnings of a plan began to germinate in his fertile brain.

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CHAPTER THREE
THE INCARCERATION

Weeks passed, and Ray worked with a fervour born out of desperation in the realisation that with every minute passing, his wife was enjoying the attentions of another. As the days passed his desk and work area steadily disappeared under mounds of literature. Medical journals covering all aspects of anatomy, nerve centres, haematology, sensory depravation, psychology, muscular control, diet, renal systems, brain construction and thought patterns; in fact all aspects of bodily function and awareness were present. Everything known about the medical phenomenon of humans was at his fingertips. Littered amongst the chaos of medical knowledge could be seen numerous books covering the subjects of bondage and fetishism, clinical nymphomania, submissive behaviour patterns, environmental control, robotics, quantum mechanics and computer technology.

The list was endless and growing daily, as Ray, having removed the original programming of his computer, proceeded to feed masses of new data into the awesome memory. He was laying the foundations for a new and infinitely more complex program.

The days dragged into weeks as he laboured on, often barely snatching a few hours sleep a day; and only then, when he could no longer focus on the flickering screen before him. His fingers were sore with the constant pounding of the keyboard as he conversed with his creation, but he refused to admit defeat.

With the programming basically complete, he turned his attentions to the robots down on the shop floor. Each unit possessed the strength of fifty men and was endowed with the speed of a striking snake. Yet each was capable of the most delicate touch as would be required to construct a watch, or carry out complex brain surgery. Modifications were made... Safety devices and limits were checked to a degree never before required in the tasks they had been designed to perform, until finally, some two months and three days after receiving the report on his wife's infidelity, Ray leaned back in his chair, exhausted and yet triumphant as the printout confirmed the final checks were in order.

Mystified, his employees waved him goodbye as they filed out on the last day of working before a seasonal three week shut down. None were privy to the project he'd been working on, and each was convinced that it was some top secret military project for the Pentagon. Ray was aware of the rumour and actively encouraged it.

Now it was time to initiate the next stage of his preparations. Checking his watch, he saw that it was approaching six o'clock. Leaning forward Ray picked up the phone and dialled his home number, his mind running over details as the distant ring tone sounded in his ear.

"Hello, 555-37224". Celeste's silky voice travelled the wires, causing his heart to miss a beat as he put his plan into motion. Knots of uncertainty cramped his stomach as he spoke into the phone.

"Celeste dear, I'll be working late tonight and I have some important papers regarding the house that must be sent in by morning. Could you possibly come down to the office and add your signature on your way out?" Sounding a little annoyed at this unexpected alteration of the evening's planned entertainment, she reluctantly agreed.

"I'll be there in about half an hour. I can detour round that way on my way to the theatre."

"That's fine then." Ray smiled to himself as his plan slotted neatly into her estimate. The time lag before her arrival was perfect for him to prepare the final step. Carefully replacing the receiver, he hesitated slightly as if deep in thought before spinning his chair and rising to leave the room. Thirty-five minutes later, having returned to his office, he looked up from his desk as the sharp clicking sounds echoing down the deserted corridor outside his office heralded the arrival of Celeste. The door to his office swung open, and in a cloud of exquisitely perfumed air, the tall, shapely figure of his spouse appeared. Taking a second to drink in the splendour of her hourglass figure in its clinging full length evening dress, he motioned for her to sit down.

"I can't be too long," she cautioned, moving to the chair, "The first performance begins at 8-0 pm." Ray nodded and as he swung back to the papers on his desk, threw a reassuring remark at his wife.

"Pour yourself a coffee, I won't be a moment and the papers will be ready."

Heart in mouth, he pretended to be absorbed in the documents as his wife hesitated, and then with a shrug, she rose and walked over to the percolator. Busily scribbling meaningless rubbish on the papers, Ray held his breath as Celeste re-seated herself and put the cup to her sensuously glossed lips, her eyes boring into him as he looked up.

Fearful that she may have read his mind, he glanced down again, certain that 'guilty' was written in large neon letters all over his forehead.

"Is something wrong Ray? You seem very nervous about someth---!" She stopped in mid sentence, and reaching up, passed her hand over her eyes, the long slender fingers of her right hand beginning to visibly relax their grip on the cup's handle.

"Ray I feel very strange all of a sudden. I can't seem to focus my eyes pro-!" Ray leapt up from his desk and moved forward in time to catch her body as she folded forward on the seat. Then, shifting his position, he lowered her gently to the floor, surprised at the speed with which the powerful barbiturate in the coffee had worked.

Heart pounding, he looked down at her unconscious form. He was torn between his undying love for her and what he knew he must do if he was to have any chance of keeping her. She looked so frail and helpless lying at his feet as he searched his soul for the strength to continue. 

With a renewed conviction, Ray knelt down beside her and with infinite care began to remove her clothing, savouring the heady fragrance of her female scent as he steadily revealed the nubile and inviting shape of her young firm body. Soon she was naked. With some difficulty, he slid his forearms under her limp form and lifted her from the floor; her head lolling back, and the silky tresses of her long auburn hair flowing downwards in a cascade as he carried her through the door.

Down the silent corridor and out onto the metal staircase leading to the shop floor, where after carefully negotiating the steps, he carried her across to the end of the conveyor and laid her gently down alongside a mound of strange neoprene shapes and steel frames.

A sense of awe tingled in his body as he spread-eagled her body and prepared for the next stage of his plan. Taking a can of shaving cream, he began to coat all the areas of her body that showed the down of hair or recently shaved skin. This done, he picked up a safety razor and began the task of removing all body hair. Her pubic mound and armpits were easy as they'd recently been denuded by herself. Eyebrows and her beautiful hair proved somewhat more difficult.

A half hour passed before Ray stepped back revealing a completely hairless woman, his sexual awareness aroused and gathering strength as the strange, surreal image of her totally denuded body impacted on his mind. Dammit! He was becoming as kinky as she was, he thought, with a mild irritation.

Thrusting such thoughts aside, Ray ran his hand over the recently shaved areas, checking that nothing remained that could hamper the passage of minute electrical signals and currents. Reassured, he placed the razor safely out of the way and turned to the odd shapes of the moulded high density neoprene, checking each in turn and laying them out ready for use.

Each section was some three inches thick, and although flexible, required considerable strength to bend them. Set into the edges of each section were small areas of hard rubber with what were obviously fasteners designed to assemble the various parts and hold them firmly together. Lifting the first section, Ray proceeded to place it over the recumbent form of his unconscious wife. Once assured of its placement, he selected a second piece, and after carefully positioning that, connected it to the first section... And so it went on, the only difficulty being when he had to turn the half covered woman over with the added weight of her now partly completed cocoon of rubber. One hour later, a huge black ballooning figure was all that remained to indicate another presence, other than that of the sweating Ray.

Wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, he lowered the electric hoist and connected its swinging hook to the ring in the top of the spherical dome that surrounded Celeste's encased head. The hoist whirred, and Ray watched as her cocooned form ponderously lifted from the conveyor; .. the completed assembly now weighing some 130 Kilo's. With the feet clear and her encapsulated form swinging gently to and fro, Ray manoeuvred the hoist over until the neoprene bumped against the steel of the odd looking framework. Positioning the cocoon in the moulded recesses provided, he started to encircle the shape with heavy braided stainless steel straps that were a part of the frame. Satisfied that all were correctly aligned, he took up the slack with the ratchet devices at the end of each strap.

As the straps pulled taut across the rubber surface and altered to form the curving shape of the neoprene, he continued to tighten, watching with interest as the steel bands began to bite into the resilience of the rubber. Ray stopped only when each band had sunk into the cocoon some two inches under each restraint, at the same time feeling that inexplicable arousal as the straps steadily imprisoned the woman within.

Stepping back, he studied the bulging form tightly banded to the frame. No clue as to the curvaceous beautiful women enclosed within could be seen as he allowed his eyes to wander over his creation. Ray moved forward again and indulged an inexplicable desire to stroke the curves of rubber created by the savage cinching that was compressing his wife into helpless immobility. Pausing for a detailed inspection, he shook his head as he started phase three of his plan, unable to accept his newly awakened interest in the image of a woman bound in rubber.

A further hour passed whilst with meticulous care, Ray connected the one thousand eight hundred and fifty two electrical connections and seventeen fluid and air pipes to the mummified woman. Each connection had a specific terminal built into the surface of the rubber. Having completed this, he spent another half hour checking and cross checking until he was certain that everything was as it should be, his eyes wandering over the malformed object now festooned with wires and inextricably bonded to the heavy framework, hardly able to accept that it concealed a living, breathing woman of exquisite beauty and sensuality.

▼ ▼ ▼

CHAPTER FOUR
THE AWAKENING

Twenty minutes later, a faint moan sounded from the speaker in the face of the computer's console, was relayed faithfully by the microphone buried in the neoprene sphere enclosing Celeste's head. The plaintive sound snapped Ray out of his reverie as he registered the return of consciousness to the encapsulated form below in the workshop.

Glancing up at the monitor he saw the long lashed eyelids begin to flutter and then slowly open in the glare of the overhead lights. Annoyed with himself, he reached out and flipped a switch, then watched as the lights dimmed to a comfortable level for the unaccustomed eyes of the awakening Celeste.

The eyes opened wide, and after a few seconds began to move rapidly from side to side as they struggled to comprehend the visual information they were receiving. Groans of effort and muffled sounds of panic, muted by the moulded plug filling her mouth relayed the fact that she was testing her restraints. The frantic wide staring eyes on his screen informed him of her mounting realisation at her predicament and the impossibility of escape. Loud pleading moans emanated from the speaker as she recognised the test workshop and the rows of silent mechanical workers stretching out in neat rows on either side of the conveyor she was mounted on. Her eyes alighted on the tool racks by each machine and noted the unfamiliar equipment laid out for use by these computer-controlled robots... Unfamiliar in a motor assembly workshop setting, but not unusual in the kinds of places where she had recently been spending so much time. Most items she could recognise, although in much larger sizes and in a variety of shapes she would sooner not think about. Other items mystified her as she continued to struggle hopelessly against the surrounding walls of neoprene. 

Image 15

Ray watched silently; secretly pleased at the way that her frantic struggles barely showed on the outside of the cocoon. The steel bands cinching her form contained all efforts with contemptuous ease. Celeste's eyes came to rest on the video camera directly in front of her face and after a moments thought, she realised that Ray was studying her reaction. 

Her eyes took a beseeching look, pleading, begging, tears rolling from their corners and coursing the short distance to the wall of rubber squeezing her cheeks in its tight embrace. The moans and pleading feeding through the speaker rose in volume as she desperately begged for release. Ray leaned back and allowed her to continue, his mind picturing the wriggling squirming softness of her body... A body he had almost lost, but one that he now intended to reclaim as he reached for the microphone stand on the work-top and pressed the button on its base.

"Celeste my darling, don't be afraid. I'm not going to harm you."

He paused as the sounds from the speaker ceased momentarily at the sound of his voice as the earphone in her head enclosure came to life. Then as the MMMPHING! pleas resumed, he continued.

"I know all about your affairs with other men... The kinky places you've been visiting and all the rest, and I don't hold it against you."

He paused again, but this time was rewarded with silence from the speaker as Celeste absorbed the information of his apparent knowledge of her infidelity.

"I also know about your psychological problem with the nymphomania, and in fact, that is what all this is about." The continuing silence prompted him to go further as Celeste fearfully listened to his dialogue, not wishing to miss anything that would reveal her fate.

"The medical experts and all the books ever written about the subject seem to confirm that there's no true cure without destroying a part of the patient, or at least,.. a vital part of her personality." Releasing the button, he lit a cigarette as he waited for comment, or more accurately, muted disapproval. Then, drawing deeply on the cigarette, he pressed the button again.

"After much careful thought, I decided that there must be another way. The other way, you are about to experience. You see my lovely, I want you as you are. Alive, vibrant, beautiful, sensuous and above all, mine for ever. So! Instead of destroying your insatiable craving for sex, I have decided to encourage it; .. or rather exhaust your drive, yet just leave enough for myself to enjoy when you are nearly sated."

A pitiful moan, half fear, half uncontrollable anticipation, seeped from the speaker as Celeste tried to envisage the coming inescapable ordeal. The realisation of her total imprisonment was brought into sharp focus as the robots closest suddenly whirred into life, one swinging a monitor into her line of vision, whilst the other with the camera began to pan slowly across her encapsulated body, relaying the images of her incredible confinement to her disbelieving eyes. As the scene unfolded, her masochistic instincts became aroused. The pictures of her tightly trussed form caused her denuded love lips to moisten and swell as feelings of undeniable pleasure began to invade her lower body.

The printer chattered briefly alongside Ray, and turning his head, he smiled as the computer's sensors recorded the rapid rise in moisture of his captive wife's succulent sexual orifice. Further signals set the printer into motion again and Ray was ecstatic as he noted the rise in pulse and respiration. There followed a reading of steadily increasing electrical activity in the muscles of her lower body as her arousal began to engineer minute muscle contractions around this warm inviting passage of love. The monitor and camera withdrew for the moment, and Celeste was left with only the memory of what she looked like to anyone outside.

Her fear returned slightly as the stimulus of seeing her demise on screen was withdrawn and her arousal halted its rapid rise. Ray began to speak to again, his voice tender and soothing as he began to explain the various details of his plan.

"The cocoon is very versatile," he was saying, as her mind swung back to his voice. "Any single part can be removed for access without compromising the security of your bondage. In addition, it has several special layers built into it that can control your body temperature and environment completely just as the suits worn in space. I've programmed the computer with every sexual detail I can find, paying special attention to the preferences you've shown recently for bondage, rubber, punishment etc."

He stopped abruptly as a high pitched keening noise blasted out of the speaker. The gagged scream was interspersed with frantic begging and pleading as the enormity of her situation became clear. She would be completely at the mercy of his computer; an electronic brain endowed with an intimate knowledge of all her body's secrets and functions; worst of all, an analysis of her sexual deviations. A machine armed with this army of tireless unfeeling robots and endowed with a devastating array of tools to work on her helpless body, placed the forthcoming ordeal beyond Celeste's ability to comprehend.

Ray tried to calm her, but couldn't break through the blind panic driving Celeste to impossible effort as she tried to break out of her confinement. The rubber outer surface flexed madly as she struggled valiantly. But to no avail. Escape was impossible. He watched in silence, the newly discovered interest in the image of a bound woman sending heat to his groin as her contortions continued.

Exhausted and defeated, Celeste was eventually still as the voice of her captor returned to her ear.

"It's no use my explaining further darling, you'll just have to learn as you go."

Ray turned back to the control desk, and after turning down the volume on the speaker, he hesitantly inserted the final disk of instructions and waited as the computer processed these new details into the waiting memory banks. The disk-drive motor stopped. All was ready. With the pressing of one key on the board, Celeste's fate would be sealed. Ray turned back to the microphone and with a shaking hand pressed the button and spoke his final words to the helpless object at the focus of the massive brain's attention.

"Celeste, it's about to begin, but before it does, remember, always remember, I'm doing it for you, for us." He waited, but was rewarded by only the sound of heavy breathing as Celeste struggled with the rising storm of her libido. She realised the hopelessness of her position and felt her powerful masochistic instincts begin to work again.

"I'll be gone for two weeks, and ----!”

The muffled scream emanating from the captive woman sent him diving for the volume control again as Celeste realised his intention to leave her in the clutches of his machine. Ray decided that further dialogue would be wasted. Picking up his coat to leave, he took a last look at the mass of equipment at the end of the conveyor and the bulbous shape of rubber at its centre as if making a final decision. Bending he pressed the 'ENTER' key that would initiate the delayed commence sequence and ultimately start Celeste moving down the line.

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CHAPTER FIVE
THE PRODUCTION LINE

The computer waited... One hour, .. two hours. As instructed it waited, allowing Ray time to travel to the airport and be safely on his way to a customer on the other side of the globe. He wanted to be in the air and unable to have second thoughts when Celeste finally began to move forward to the waiting robots.

As the 747 lifted into the night sky, he opened his briefcase and removed a sheaf of notes that would refresh his memory as to the various sequences programmed into the PRITCHARD 8000. Back in the workshop, the signal arrived through the telephone hook-up with the airline's computer, confirming the departure of flight TGA 336 to Australia.

With methodical thoroughness the PRITCHARD confirmed the presence of passenger R. Pritchard aboard the flight.

Celeste screamed hysterically into the firm wadding in her mouth as a slight jerk heralded the start of her ordeal, and she felt her confinement start to move. Terrified, she saw the first three robots swish into motion. At the same time, an electronically generated voice sounded in her ear as the computer appraised her of the first stage of its program. Her terrifying program, had begun!

"Subject Celeste Pritchard Female, Age 26, Height 5' 10", Weight 126 pounds, Fingerprint identity, ... confirmed. Vital signs, .. Safe,.. within limits. Commencing Inspection Procedure."

Celeste struggled in vain as the conveyor continued to move, inexorably carrying her entombed body towards the first of a long line of waiting robotic arms. Her fear assumed gigantic proportions as the nightmare moved into reality. Dimly, she registered her arrival at the designated point as she thrashed impotently against the resilient strength of her imprisonment. Quaking with terror she watched helplessly as the cold steel arms advanced and began to remove sections of her confinement to allow access to her breasts and mouth; .. then included those most private of openings in their preparation, her anus and vaginal passage. Ignoring her plaintive ungagged wails of fear, the 8000 began its inspection. 

Calmly, 8000 instructed its minions to proceed with their allotted tasks and manipulated her mounting frame to shape her into a bent-over, leg spreading posture. Celeste screamed as pincer-like talons delicately gripped the lips of her labia and with a slow deliberate movement began to open her defenceless orifice. The movement stopped and Celeste cried pitifully as she envisaged her rear displaying the deep pink interior of her love nest. Her normally tight lipped opening was spread in an impossible 5" wide gaping mouth as a second metal arm deftly inserted an optical fibre device that would relay deeply concealed secrets to the scanners of her electronic inquisitor. Miserably, she ceased to struggle, fearful that her movements may cause this intruder to damage the delicate interior of her vaginal tract as it moved deep into her body. She could feel its twists and turns inside as it mapped out the tortuous passage in microscopic detail, noting and recording every slight blemish or personal eccentricity. The scanner eye completed its task and slid smoothly out of her body, only to be replaced seconds later in a painfully spread anus. 

Celeste bucked and writhed, her face crimson with embarrassment at this blatantly cold and impersonal violation of her body. Every detail was relayed to the monitor, once again within her field of vision as it graphically displayed each operation in close up technicolour.

As she struggled with the inescapable fact of the intrusion violating her back passage, another scope appeared before her eyes, and surrendering to the ever widening prongs that were insistently thrusting between her teeth, she allowed her mouth to be forced wide open as the scope advanced and disappeared into her throat. The scopes withdrew and were replaced by new tools as the robots selected further instruments from their racks.

Celeste winched as cold steel prongs violated her lower openings yet again. Then with rapidly increasing volume, she screamed out in horror as the split prongs shaped like two shoehorns began to widen out, stretching both passages wide as the computer made calculations on elasticity and maximum permissible opening. Sobbing pitifully, Celeste endured as all three of her bodily openings were held wide and accessible to the searching machines.

The inspection continued as joint rotations and flexibility were checked to the limits of her tolerance. Blood and urine samples were taken, skin resistance checked, and a thousand other measurements and tests were carried out in a matter of minutes. All this data merely adding to the already considerable knowledge of human anatomy possessed by the 8000. At last her steel medical assessors withdrew as her cocoon was reassembled and mouth re-sealed by the huge sponge gag. Then, after a few anxious seconds, the cold machine voice announced her next ordeal.

"Proceeding with Corporal Punishment and Mandatory Vaginal Insertion procedures. Advancing to position two."

Celeste listened with dawning horror as the impersonal voice mapped out her impending violation and punishment with precise mechanical detachment. 8000 was oblivious to the feelings of the squirming life form enmeshed in its powerful embrace.

The frame began to tilt as it moved towards a second set of robots, then, as she was slowly turned over, Celeste saw two of the machines select thin whippy canes from their arsenal, whilst the other swung into position with a huge ridged vibrating dildo clasped in the vice like talons of its hand. Her struggles increased, but to no avail as the frame stopped turning and began to bend her neoprene encased body into a folded position, resulting in her rump being pointed at 45 degrees towards the ceiling. A suddenly rush of cold air fanned her buttocks as a fourth robot beyond her line of vision snapped back the clips and removed the section covering her curvaceous bottom, leaving the taut stretched skin of her tender rump and the invitingly denuded lips of her pussy open and available. As the conveyor came to a stop, Celeste felt her arms moving from her sides and being inexorably forced behind her back until the wrist sections of the rubber were pressed tightly together. In unison, her captive arms were now moved up and away from her body; the forceful movement stopping only when she was painfully arched by their unnatural position. 

Straining in fearful anticipation, Celeste screamed protest around the filling in her mouth as the first robot's arm flashed down. The thin cane in its grasp traced a line of fire across her presented nates. In rapid succession the blows began to fall from both sides as a programmed slow movement of the frame ensured that each blow fell half an inch below the last. Reversing the motion had the effect of positioning a further stripe between each red mark on the way back. Celeste wailed and struggled, the fear and pain slowly beginning to ebb as her rising masochistic lust was fuelled rapidly by the abuse. Her vocal outpourings rose to a new and unprecedented level as robot number three skilfully avoided the flashing ends of the canes and positioned the huge tapering end of the dildo against her wet, glistening pussy.

With delicate and yet powerful precision, the machine began to bury the throbbing monster into the warm squirming recess of her body. After advancing some eight inches it began to move the tool in and out with steadily increasing speed. Video cameras zoomed in and recorded the continuous re-sculpting of those sensuous lips in detail as they sucked helplessly on the reciprocating dildo. Throughout the entire sequence, the computer relayed close-up images of her own plundered pussy and abused buttocks to the monitor held before her disbelieving eyes. Celeste struggled to accept that it was her own pussy stretching and slavering on that thrusting shaft of plastic and metal. She could see her clitoris licking backwards and forwards on its surface like the tongue of a child on a delicious raspberry lollipop, but was powerless to prevent the stimulating effects..

With infinitesimal care, the computer ordered the advance of the canes so that they steadily moved towards the fleshy lips surrounding the dildo. Soon the tips were nipping at the captive's most sensitive flexing mounds and sending paroxysms of pleasure through the trussed Celeste as her love petals were simultaneously subjected to thrusting friction and stinging impacts. Her own self-voyeurism was fuelling an undeniable lust as she watched her own shaved smooth flesh begin to redden under the onslaught. The imminent orgasm could not be denied and Celeste resigned herself to the fact that she couldn't resist this mechanical rapist. She allowed herself to be swallowed in the morass of self indulgence that threatened to engulf every fibre of her being. Spurred onward by the visual images of her own exhibited rape and abuse; writhing and straining, she endured as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure ripped into her body.

The computer accurately read the subsidence of each successive peak through its many sensors and reduced the stimulation and punishment to lower levels for several minutes, thus allowing her to recover before the next onslaught of undeniable sexual arousal.

The hours passed, and Celeste helplessly endured almost perpetual arousal. There was absolutely nothing she could do to prevent her body being pulverised by a never-ending series of orgasms as the computer completed the first programme with merciless precision. In addition, she was forced to watch as her violated frontal opening became a dripping morass of reddened blood engorged lips and syrupy fluid. To make matters worse, she guessed that it was all being faithfully being recorded for Ray's viewing at a later date.

An eternity later, the robots withdrew and replaced their glistening recently used tools in their allocated storage clips, before selecting new items from the racks. Unable to see, and almost past caring, an exhausted Celeste waited as her confinement returned to the vertical and forcibly spread her legs in a wide inverted 'V', thus releasing streamers of warm viscous liquid from her overworked labial lips that dripped and formed a spreading pool on the conveyor beneath. A scanner on the robot arm located Celeste's rectal opening and the tiny hole of her urethra at the entrance to her other portal, then fed the coordinates to the listening computer. The 8000 in turn, gave instructions to the tool manipulators. 

Celeste bucked and writhed when without warning, she felt a thin catheter being fed into her body. A similar feeling behind appraised of the fact that a larger waste removal device was shouldering aside the tight protesting ring of her anus. Once the tubes were fully implanted, Celeste quivered with shock as a gush of warm pleasant liquid flowed into her rear passage. 

"Unit may now begin toilet ablutions. "Came the cold impassive voice. 

Celeste, taking advantage of the opportunity, released an achingly full bladder into the deeply inserted tube almost before it reached final positioning. It was not long before the powerful laxative injected into her back passage produced a similar reaction behind. With meticulous care, the computer analysed outflow information and deduced that Celeste was now empty of all waste material. Pausing momentarily, it instructed the robots to withdraw their tubes and commence cleaning operations. 

As they busied themselves with her nether regions, Celeste suddenly felt a tube sliding through of the centre of her gag and down into her throat. The choking sensation it produced rapidly diminished as it proceeded further and entered the insensitive lower gullet. Again the impersonal metallic voice sounded.

"Commencing replenishment cycle. Sensors indicate 0.28 litres of water and 1.27 kilograms of nourishment required to maintain operational efficiency of the unit.

Ray had programmed the voice simulator to refer to her as a unit. It was a deliberate and calculated plan to enhance her submissive tendencies; to impress upon her, with brutal finality, that she was a mere object with no will of her own. Celeste felt the tube swell slightly in her throat as the nourishment was pumped into her and although she could feel her stomach filling comfortably, it was a strange sensation not to have it accompanied by the sensation of swallowing.

The feeding and toileting complete, Celeste found herself put into a rest mode as the computer waited for some event or instruction. Meanwhile, 4000 miles away, Ray dialled a number at a stopover airport and stood listening for the computer to answer before clamping the Lap-Link sensor of his portable computer to the handset.

In microseconds, the Pritchard 8000 briefed its distant smaller cousin on details and projections concerning the condition and performance of the warm living component at the centre of its network... For that was what Celeste had become. She was an integral part of this monstrous machine. .. A living breathing silicon component that could be programmed to perform as required. Initially, the programming had been crude. But now, armed with the wealth of data collected from its mass of censors, the 8000 carried out a continual programme of updating and reassessment, thus honing the technique required in order to have this impudent stubborn 'chip' perform to maximum efficiency. Ray broke contact after leaving instructions to continue the program, then scurried away to make his connecting flight.

Lounging back in his seat, he felt the heat of arousal surging through his body as he deciphered the information showing on the small screen in front of him. A shadow fell across him, and looking up, he wriggled uncomfortably as he noticed the stewardess studying his flushed face. The information he was reading was translating into a detailed account of highly personal body functions as Celeste had been ravished by the machine. Details of how many orgasms; quantities of fluid released by her pulsing vagina; muscle contractions per second as she was shattered by the tides of pleasure washing through her during successive orgasmic eruptions... There were also read-outs on relative pain levels with each of the myriad blows that had rained down on her defenceless buttocks. He even knew how much surface friction had resulted as the dildo forcibly ravished her; .. whilst at the same time the 8000 was recording the inside temperature of her deepest and most private orifice. The levels of sound from her screams and moans showed like the waves of a rough sea on the printed graphs spewing out of the machine on his lap. Ray switched off the machine and folded the lid down. Consulting his notes he crosschecked against his watch; .. then relating the two, he imagined the next stage of Celeste's ordeal that was due to commence in fifteen seconds.

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CHAPTER SIX
AVERSION THERAPY

One aspect of Celeste's activities in her kinky exploits had shocked and even disgusted Ray. For although to some, this sport is a perfectly natural pursuit, he couldn't reconcile himself to the image of his beautiful wife undertaking such self abuse. So with careful planning he included an aversion therapy section in his program, designed to cure her of a desire for enemas.

Celeste's tranquil state of mind was shattered by the flat tones of the computer.

"Commencing Aversion Therapy, begin insertion and inflation." 

With a terrible sense of foreboding Celeste felt her legs being spread yet again and the cool insertion of tubes into her lower orifices, followed by the sliding sensation as her feeding tube travelled down her throat. The movement stopped, and after a momentary pause, she felt the tubes in her body begin to gush with liquid. Frantically, she struggled as the volume increased; it was inflating her bowel and stretching the walls of her front passage. The tube in her throat steadily filled her stomach until her abdomen pressed with ever increasing force against the retaining wall of her prison. Panic welled in her mind as she was inflated like a balloon by the pressurising water, until, at the moment when she felt she would surely burst the flow stopped. The tubes withdrew. But before the liquid within could escape her expanded body the robots deftly plugged each opening with expanding plugs, and the hole in her gag closed with a command from the computer.

As her discomfort increased, Celeste watched with terror as a robot bore down on her with the missing piece of her head surround and swiftly clipped the section into place over her eyes, effectively removing all contact with the outside world. Likewise, the section over her buttocks was replaced. Once fastened into position, she felt the frame begin to shape her body.

Her final position was strenuous to say the least and in the long term would become excruciating. The frame first bent her legs steadily upwards, separating them even more as they rose and eventually crossed her ankles behind her head and held them in position as the robots secured them with steel clamps. Her arms, powerfully held forward during this operation, were manoeuvred behind her back so that her elbows were on the outside of her knees and wrists touching behind her back. As always the robots were ensured their positioning was permanent by the addition of powerful clamps.

Inflated and contorted, Celeste listened to the faint sounds filtering through her helmet;.. sounds that steadily became a wall of silence as an automated overhead crane slowly lowered a four ton cover over her strained figure. The cover had two foot thick walls of soundproofing material in its construction and formed a totally impenetrable sound barrier.

"Isolation sequence to begin, duration 24 hours."

The statement sounded like a death knell in the incredulous ears of a bloated and definitely uncomfortable Celeste. Unable to move a muscle, and puffed up like a party balloon whilst trussed into an unrecognisable ball, she suffered and endured. She was denied any ability to protest as the computer began to use the millions of tiny capillary tubes built into her neoprene coating to alternately freeze and then heat her beleaguered form to the limits of endurance.

Image 16

Thirty-four thousand feet in the sky and getting further away by the second, Ray stirred in his sleep, then remembering his plans, opened one eye to study his watch. Sleepily he registered the fact that his wife was now entombed in rubber and concrete; .. inflated and contorted into a tiny ball as she sweated and froze alternately.

"That should cure her I should think," he mused before dropping off to sleep again as he savoured the comfort and freedom of movement in the luxurious first-class seat.

The flight reached Sydney, and after joining the connector flight to Perth, Ray arrived at his destination and enjoyed a good night's sleep to awaken refreshed and rejuvenated. Picking up the hotel phone, he dialled the overseas contact number and allowed his portable computer to absorb facts from afar. Seeing the data transmission complete, he punched in a special code that would put him in direct contact with the incarcerated form of his wife.

Without speaking Ray listened as eight thousand miles away a pitiful moaning emanated from his expanded and cocooned spouse. He listened for several minutes before checking his watch, mentally calculating that she had another hour and a half before release. He resisted the urge to speak and break her solitude for fear of causing a failure in the technique designed to break her of the desire for rectal water injections.

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CHAPTER SEVEN
UNLIMITED PLEASURE

Almost beyond coherent thought, Celeste felt her aching body begin to unfold, vaguely registering the removal of panels in her suit and the retraction of the painful plugs in her orifices. A sensation of tremendous relief flooded through her as the pressurised liquid within gushed out and allowed her tormented body to shrink back to size.

Dazed and disorientated, her mind drifted as her immediate needs were catered for, and then she screamed in pain as the frame began to flex and bend in continuous movement as it exercised her cramped limbs. A half hour later, she was fully conscious and her limbs once more flexible and pain free as she waited for the next test of her endurance. The therapy session had been a living hell. With complete removal of sensory perception, twenty-four hours seemed like weeks. The silence of her tomb had weighed heavily on her as the beat of her own heart became louder and louder to the deprived hearing centres that had increased their sensitivity ten fold in the search for sound.

Within hours, her limbs had cramped and then become devoid of feeling, so that ultimately she became a formless entity; .. a floating blob of life in a fluctuating environment of extremes as first she was frozen to a shivering mass, then heated until she was sure she had begun to actually cook.... 'Trussed like an oven ready chicken'. In fact, had such a chicken capable of feeling she would have known exactly how it would have felt to be removed from the freezer and popped into a microwave; .. after first being stuffed to bursting point with Sage and Onion.

Had she known, it was her own actions in the kitchen six nights before that had actually inspired Ray's programming on this section of her ordeal as he watched her prepare a roast chicken for their evening meal. His special interest each phase of preparation, and smiles to himself had gone unnoticed as he watched Celeste unknowingly demonstrating her own forthcoming torment.

The conveyor began to move as the cold voice recited her next unavoidable ordeal at the hands of her electronic tormentor..

"Stage Three commencing, Triple orifice stimulation, Full breast expansion and nipple stimulation. Electronic muscle excitation." 

Celeste couldn't suppress the shudder of morbid anticipation and excitement that shook her body as she heard this announcement of the massive unavoidable stimulation and abuse she was about to endure. She felt her pubic mound begin to swell and a slick smooth feeling creep across the surface of its lips as the juices of her arousal flowed copiously into her warm recess. As the conveyor moved inexorably forward her nipples became rigid turrets of passion and the smooth creamy skin of her breasts drew taut with their aroused expansion. 

Coming to a stop within reach of the next set of metal manipulator arms, she couldn't know that a distant voyeur was studying the rocketing readings transmitted by her awakening body with glee and listening to the soft moans of pleasure; .. sometimes apprehension, that even her awesome gag was unable to suppress.

A multitude of robots busied themselves with the removal of panels from her neoprene cocoon. Then with a whirring of machinery, the frame began to re-sculpt her, as instructed by the 8000; .. bending and shaping her in preparation for the coming ravishment of a forcibly re- educated and receptive body.

Gradually, Celeste's knees were parted and brought up to lie alongside her uncovered breasts. Her rump, also uncovered, was slowly inverted to point upwards, and at the same time her head was drawn back as the gag slid out of her mouth. Squirming with expectant lust, Celeste exercised her jaw, still stiff from its long abuse whilst stretched tautly around the bulk of her gag. Feeling a nudge against her teeth, she opened her eyes as the robot on her left offered another tool for insertion. Unable to resist, and not really wanting to, she opened her mouth and allowed a long rubber coated shaft to slide into her throat. This dildo shaped gag was slightly smaller in girth and more comfortable than the recently removed plug, although at this time she had no inkling as to its full function. Metals hands momentarily touched her breasts, .. only to be replaced by the exquisitely sensuous touch of some sort of fur lined cones that engulfed her firm flesh completely. Almost immediately, she felt her breasts swell into their confines as a slight pulsating suction began to knead her expectant tingling orbs. The same suction, originating from tubes attached to the cones tips sucked her nipples into the tubes and began to pulsate their distended shape. Celeste's moans of pleasure increased as the Pritchard switched her to stand-by mode and left her to warm up. Warm-up consisted of alternately expanding and contracting the inflatable dildo in her mouth to mimic a huge shaft of throbbing manhood. But 8000 was toying and experimenting with this impudent human micro chip and occasionally crushed any perceived rebellious sounds by inflating her oral plug to immense proportions; .. often leaving her for minutes with every tiny crevice filled to capacity. Unfortunately, Pritchard 8000 still confused the sounds of almost inconceivable pleasure with those of protest. As a result, Celeste was often orally punished for expressing her undeniable arousal. It was a Catch 22 situation that only served to increase her masochistic lust.

Celeste's jaw was stretched to breaking point. Her lips, drawn painfully taut with tension, formed a perfect tight ring around its girth as she tried to resist the computer's programming. Silent and unmoving, the robots nearby watched with detached indifference as she was relentlessly taught to obey.

They simply ignored the black bulbous object before them as it began to ripple and writhe with the urgent contortions from the human embryo within. The outcome was always the same as Celeste eventually capitulated to the inescapable programming. She was powerless to do otherwise without drawing painful chastisement and correction. Finally, Celeste surrendered unconditionally to 8000's will.

Unaffected by time as the hours dragged by, unmindful when her movements became frantic, the metal workers waited impassively. They were oblivious to the streams of viscous fluid running in rivulets from the pouting, pulsing lips of the pink, blood engorged mound surmounting this parcel of desperately longing womanhood. Nor did they understand as the luscious peachlike protuberance of her labia thrust back and forth in lusting frenzy.

Limited severely in movement by her awesome bondage, Celeste tried hopelessly to influence the cold impersonal machines with her show of wanton exhibitionism and gain some sort of fulfilment from their touch.

In a distant hotel room, Ray watched with rampant anticipation as he saw the readings of pleasure sending the wildly oscillating graph pens right off the sheet. His brainchild, the 8000, was learning at a quantum rate. It had already mastered the art of arousing a woman to a degree as yet, only dreamed about by mortal man; .. and it was now turning its new knowledge into an exact science as Celeste was driven further and further into the realms of the unknown. It was gauging her arousal with a mathematical accuracy, measured in millionths of a degree.

The 8000 introduced the next stage, .. noting the reactions as a robot arm swung forward with a large spiral-shaped dildo and positioned it one centimetre from Celeste's puckering anal ring. A further command energised the motorised arm and started the dildo rotating as the arm advanced slowly; boring the smooth oiled surface of the twirling shaft into the tight muscular anal orifice. A groan of disappointment, pain, and despair escaped the lips stretched around the fully inflated dildo in her mouth as Celeste endured this violation. It was so near and yet so far from the demanding tunnel of her twitching pussy. Her impotent frustration simply fuelled her masochistic desires as sensations from the neighbouring passage made themselves felt in her yearning, craving vagina. A Gee spot situated between the two body tunnels became massively aroused by the vibrations; .. vibrations that were insufficient to press the trigger of her seething lust as the Pritchard left her to suffer the diabolical agonies of denial. Ignoring the section of its electronic brain allocated to controlling the programmed events taking place, it pondered new input data. In this way the computer was able to blank out distractions caused by the thrashing feline torment at the end of its many sensory fingers.

A further half hour passed as Celeste screamed and begged incoherently. So desperate were her entreaties, they were even penetrating the impassively de-tuned audio sensory ears of the 8000. With an irritated electronic twitch, the annoyed machine inflated her gag to impossible size and removed this distracting input from its audio circuits. The Pritchard then continued to calculate and assessed the optimum moment for the final phase.

Thus she was to left endure. Mouth bulging and eyes popping, her faint muted cries of anguish were absorbed into the horrendous bulk filling her oral cavity; a bulk that hermetically sealed in all sound as it expanded her lips and cheeks tightly into the confines of the helmet. The ruthlessly effective and insensitive way she had been silenced poured more fuel on the fires within as she contemplated her descent to the role of an experimental, unimportant biochemical component in the 8000's vast matrix. Tears of frustration coursed down her bulging cinched cheeks, soaking the neoprene surround as the suction on her breasts and bursting nipples increased dramatically in response to new calculations. The awesome gag expanded still more as the computer unsuccessfully attempted to quell the snorting blasts produced by her unplugged nostrils. The expando-gag's expansion was maintained at this level as new and important calculations diverted the attention of her electronic manipulator.

The moment had arrived. Advancing with smooth precise movements, a robot positioned a monstrous spiralled dildo at the opening to her love nest. Spinning the shaft up to speed, it began the insertion. The whirling shaft sent showers of liquid from its surface as the tip picked up surplus fluid from the aching, longing lips. Boring remorselessly inward, its advance drew blasts of laboured breath from Celeste's flaring nostrils as she was truly screwed by the threadlike undulations of her rotating intruder. Her libido was temporarily halted whilst she adjusted to the absorption of this huge intrusion and her labial mouth learned to accept the horrendous fluctuating dilation.

With the phallic device fully inserted, the robot began to reciprocate its arm. Instantly, the thrusting irresistible shaft fuelled Celeste's craving with immense surges as its spiralling boring motion gave new meaning to the word pleasure. Seconds away from a cataclysmic orgasm, Celeste jerked under an unexpected sting as two more robots began to lightly whip her buttocks and the lips of her shuddering pussy. This was the final coupe-de-grace. Her body seemed to be swelling to immense proportions with the influence of an impending orgasmic eruption that would have done any self-respecting volcano proud.

Trying in vain to contain the rising storm within, Celeste knew that she would be unable to restrain the gathering forces as she was bored and violated in all openings. She felt herself exploding with a ferocity never before experienced by mortal woman, whilst the machine continued to screw her with steady precision as she was systematically torn apart by the tornado within. The hurricane-like forces of orgasmic destruction were endlessly maintained by the plundering shafts as they poured fuel into the vortex of cataclysmic carnal storm. Pritchard seemed to be milking her like a tethered cow, draining her deepest and most powerful emotions and feelings. Finally, the raging winds of lust began to ebb. 

Sensing this reduced output, the 8000 brought its secret weapon into play and Celeste's mind reeled under the impact of gigantic waves of pleasure as electrical impulses fed into her body by the attached electrodes gave her slavering sexual mouth a will of its own.

Twitching, pulsing; .. gripping tightly against the twirling shaft, her uncontrollable sex portal engineered massively powerful contractions in her undulating buttock muscles. It was a futile effort to try and fuel its demands with remote muscle enhancement. The results sent fingers of pure ecstasy dancing across her entire pulverised crotch region. Constantly expanding and contracting orbs of her vacuum manipulated breasts added fiery fuel to the furnace of lust as they were continually re-sculptured and caressed by the fur lined suction cones moulding their offered shapes. Celeste surrendered her entire being to the machine. Incapable of any further resistance, she allowed her body to be entirely controlled by the command signals activating all her muscles and tirelessly manipulating her tormented form. Images of her electronically controlled sex lips snapping and snarling at the plundering shaft as she was held rigid and immovable in the frame's iron grip surged through her mind, enhancing the total futility of resistance. The tornado returned, instantly assuming cosmic proportions as it began to reduce her to a sea of writhing orgasmic plasma. Bubbling and erupting with the searing heat of uncontrollable lust, Celeste found herself moaning incoherently as orgasmic saliva dripped from stretched love lips and coated the shaft of her pulsing pussy plunderer. For fifteen minutes, the neoprene cocoon rippled and writhed, the neoprene shape straining against the steel confines like an insane jellyfish as it rippled with power.

Plaintive wailing pleas seeped through the thick resilient cover as the reciprocating rotating shafts worked ceaselessly in and out of her vulnerable body, screwing and pumping the captive woman with irresistible force. She was of little consequence to a machine designed to perform endless repetitive tasks on inert metals, and 8000 seemed intrigued by the responses that could be extracted by constantly stuffing this human item full of animated phallic-shaped metal. 8000 experimented till more, expanding the inserts, varying insertion rates, altering angles of reciprocation, even varying the smooth thread pitch so as to screw her more effectively. Pritchard also discovered that inflating the creature through her oral insert had an effect, as did sealing her only airway by constricting the throat clamp. Celeste's struggles bordered on demoniac as she suffered partial suffocation, yet at the same time her sensory output from sexual arousal rose intriguingly whenever she was subjected to respiratory cessation. Pritchard had unknowingly stumbled on 'edge play' as it was called in SM circles. The computer calculated her maximum duration of endurance, then clamped her throat powerfully as it increased all other modes of stimulation to maximum. Torturously resculpted, tightly bound and cinched, inflated, screwed, stretched, throttled, the human female began to explode like an orgasmic bomb.

Celeste's carnal output rocketed to a peak with the input of masochistic arousal, and Pritchard held her in respiratory denial until the captive female suddenly erupted with unprecedented ferocity. With the climax well beyond the point of no return, 8000 relaxed the throat clamp and listened intently to the resumption of muffled sounds. Her wails and moans rose to a quavering drawn-out scream of ecstasy, and despite the strength and inflexibility of the tough neoprene, Celeste's rubber prison began to pulse and flex with awesome power; extruding itself past the unbreakable steei cinches and forming quivering curves of extruded casing that defied description. Suddenly, sound and movement ceased abruptly, leaving the echoes to die away in the vastness of the building. At first 8000 was unable to comprehend and tried to reanimate the human core by inflating it still more, then by clamping the throat. There was no response, no sensory output, although the rubber figurine was bulging obscenely with the mounting internal pressure. Already the various hollow plugs feeding into the woman were reaching maximum limits as air leaked from all be stretched orifice seals. Pritchard tried a last screw and pump operation on the offered crotch, recording the strange farting noises produced as the rotating dildo pumped in and out of her pressurised pussy. Finally, sensing no reaction, 8000 gave up and deflated the pressurised woman with a loud hissing.

All was still. The rubber moved no more and the microphones could detect no audible signals. At last, the on-board computer controlling the warm scented pulsing core of this object had been unable to cope with the impossible inputs to its storage banks and closed down in protest, thereby allowing Celeste the release of unconsciousness.

Ray sagged in his chair weak and exhausted. He felt drained by his own sexual arousal as he had followed every detail of Celeste's prolonged orgasmic explosion. He dragged air into his lungs and contemplated the situation as he remembered the programming that would return her to this inescapable nebulous world of rapturous pain and pleasure every four hours for the next five days as stage three ran its course. Her muffled pleas for mercy would be ignored as the frame offered her to the impassive robots for repeated screwing and inflation. They were patiently waiting to ravage her helpless form and reduce her to a quivering mass of orgasmic jelly whenever the opportunity was presented.

With some satisfaction, he broke the connection and replaced the phone; .. congratulating himself on making the right decision. Now he knew for sure that he could never have matched this woman's insatiable appetite for pleasure without help.

She was like a black hole in some distant galaxy; devouring all in her path, drawing endurance from the debris and growing stronger with each ordeal. Celeste was feeding on the pain-pleasure mix being poured into her body and converting the pain into orgasmic rapture with effortless ease. It was therefore with some disappointment that Ray viewed the read-out from the aversion therapy and realised that he'd not only failed, but had actually increased her enjoyment of such activities. For although she suffered extraordinary trauma, the information before him supplied irrefutable proof that she relished her incredible entombment and inflation. The brain activity at the source of her pleasure control centres and the recorded unceasing muscle activity in her pubic regions bore mute testament to the fact that she was mentally masturbating the whole time. Celeste actually savoured the impossible contortions she was moulded into and the tight stretched feeling of her body. She clearly enjoyed being inflated bursting point and filled with a foreign liquid. The woman luxuriated in the fact that should could not touch or play with that magical nodule as her clitoris remained a galaxy away in her stringent bondage.

That mere fact alone was sufficient to fuel her desire for abuse and control by an outside force, sending hot rivers of fluid leaking from her pubic lips running down between her skin and that of her confinement; .. the passage was faithfully recorded by the ever watchful 8000..

Ray shrugged to himself and dismissed it as a minor setback as he contemplated the raging mass of torment his unfaithful wife would be forced to repeat in four hours' time... Not to mention the remaining stages four and five she had yet to experience.

Two days passed, and the computer, having exhausted all combinations of stimulation used so far in stage three, brought another trump card into play. The neoprene cocoon, whilst serving as a very efficient restraint and an even better thermal and sound insulator, had other hidden surprises sandwiched between its 3" thick layers.

Sixteen sets of ten air bladders each, also nestled in that covering. These air bladders were now brought into play with a vengeance as Celeste battled against the irresistible stimulation of the robots for the twenty- second time. At first, the effects of the bladders on her writhing form went unnoticed. Then, as the 8000 steadily increased the pressure, Celeste began to feel a flowing squeezing motion travelling over her body. The bladders were being inflated and released in a rhythmic progression travelling from her neck down to her nether regions. Slowly, gently, they were squeezing her in a stroking movement like someone trying to coax the last dregs out of an empty toothpaste tube. She was not to know that the computer was simulating the very same pressures she had endured aeons ago, before she had even entered this present world; .. pressures transmitted to her tiny embryonic form as she nestled within her mother's body. Now that distant memory of comfort and well being was being reawakened and scaled up to match her present size as it attempted to recreate the state of limbo known by psychologists as the womb- syndrome. Her moans of ecstasy increased as the pressure rose. The 8000 was pumping her body. Pritchard was systematically wringing the screaming, unfulfilled lust from her form and squeezing it down to her waiting labia. The effect seemed to be concentrating the whole boiling mass in her sensitive fluid-drenched lips of love as if in preparation for the coming of that magical spinning finger of eroticism that would break her seal and open the floodgates of indescribable pleasure.

The canes rose and fell with precise regularity. Her mouth was continually stretched to bursting by the irresistible force of her inflatable gag, whilst in her rear passage the whirling, vibrating dildo drove her to the brink of insanity with constant plunging strokes. The timing of the pumping anal phallus was carefully orchestrated to synchronise with the pulsing suction on her distended breasts and nipples. Yet still the 8000 denied her that final thrusting trigger as it squeezed and pulsated her gasping, desperately waiting body in an orgy of irresistible manipulation. Pritchard continued building her longing to impossible levels, then with a single command, sent the rotating spiral forward. It was time to screw the female thoroughly. The phallic shaft drove into her body with a single powerful screwing thrust that drew a shuddering wail of frenzied rapturous sound from the half delirious Celeste as all one hundred and sixty bladders inflated simultaneously and held her shuddering body helpless in their vicelike grip. The computer was crushing the erupting woman into a pulsating, mewing ball; deliberately denying her any chance of flexing with the shattering muscle convulsions she was experiencing. Pritchard was containing the explosion of lust and concentrating its awesome power within the confines of her prison so that the resulting shock waves reverberated round and round inside the core of that compressing mass of neoprene. The screwing phallus expanded to an all time high and 8000 quicken the stroke to a body pulverising rate. The power level was proportionally stepped up to produce a jarring impact each time the rotating, flared base of the dildo impacted and squashed her fleshy mons. Celeste's powerfully crushed form was powerless to resist, and the resultant expansion and pulsing internal pressure of such a ruthless insertion manifested itself in explosive gusts of snorting breath from her flaring nostrils. Cheeks erupting over the gag band, eyes repeatedly threatening to pop from her head, Celeste strained madly as her body helplessly absorbed the massive inflationary effects of the thrusting steel. 

Initially, it was only the pussy plunderer, but 8000 soon expanded power- screw operation to encompass her rectal intruder; first with them synchronised on forward thrust, then with the insertion timing staggered to give an opposite stroke motion in each phallic pole. Simultaneous pumping gave the most visible response as the neoprene prison virtually pulsed with each power stroke, whereas de-synchronised operation doubled the explosive snorts of breath.

Pritchard left Celeste in this mode and watched as she endured orgasm after orgasm, each successive eruption surpassing the last in ferocity and frequency. It became necessary to increase the internal gag plug and tighten the over-face cinching band in order to quell the rising sound output. A partially tightened throat band assisted in silencing the noise so as to leave only the Humphing! snorts of breath as the savage orifice pumping was maintained. A chain reaction seemed to be building at a quantum rate as the cinched female was ruthlessly, pumped and screwed like a piece of metal undergoing a tortuous engineering procedure. Given the immense crushing pressure of the inflated bladders, her body was condensed and compressed thus allowing virtually no resilience. The presented crotch region was almost extruded through the removed neoprene panel and robbed of any means to ease or absorb the endless almost missile-like velocity of each impacting inward stroke. As 8000 stepped up the speed still more, a smacking sound of abused well lubricated pussy and assaulted sphincter muscle filled the echoing factory. It was supplemented by a squelching and farting as both orifices underwent cyclically explosive dilation and contraction with each stroke. Celeste became a symphony of Hummmphing! Squelching! Farting! super- screwed torment all on her own.

Without warning the chain reaction went critical. Eyeballs permanently distended and rolling incoherently, exploding cheeks scarlet and threatening to explode from the gag; her neoprene prison pulsing insanely with the contained effort, Celeste went nuclear. Pritchard instantly sent a powerful current through her spasming buttocks and froze them rigid with electrically induced muscular paralysis. Denied her natural ability to control events, Celeste was fully dependent on the explosively inserted dildos. It was the final control straw that sent her masochistic lust totally ballistic. Pritchard now had the capability to hold her in a state of controlled orgasmic nuclear reaction for as long as it chose. It chose to keep her that way for as long as possible, using the deepening purple and increasingly powerful explosive Hummmphing extrusion of her securely cinched cheeks as barometer of her torment.

The 8000 timed the chain reaction within this human reactor and noted with clinical detachment the eventual cessation of power output at eighteen minutes and sixteen seconds duration. In part, the extended duration of the event was engineered by 8000's skilful usage of recently acquired knowledge. Each slight waning of the female's titanic carnal event was rekindled by savagely tightening the choker collar till the veins in her extruded cheeks and sweat streaked forehead stood out, and she reanimated to previous levels of convulsive eruption in the crotch region. Ignoring the colossal drain of energy on Celeste's helpless beleaguered form, Pritchard 8000 effortlessly maintained her at optimum carnal output. 

But eventually, nature's safety mechanisms built into Celeste's mortal form halted her headlong rush to destruction as the forces unleashed within shredded her mind and body. Celeste floated in a black sea of oblivion as the computer completed its calculations, deducing from the recently acquired information that her next period of activity could be lengthened to twenty-four minutes and twelve seconds by altering the sequence of the air bladders in the initial stage of operation to a spiralling sequence. That would give the effect of a giant Anaconda slowly winding its coils around her body, starting at the top and working down to her base with steadily intensifying pressure.

With the dawning of day five, Celeste was reduced to a semi permanent state of arousal. Pritchard had ironed out all the bugs in its program and could now maintain her indefinitely at critical output. Electronic neural disruptions were now even denying her the release of unconsciousness as 8000 neutralised the neural signals that could bring down her mental shield.

The universe did not exist for her as a separate entity She had become the universe; .. an empty void of infinite boundaries that contained only her drifting, writhing form; a form that was drifting from one pulsating mind-bending orgasm to the next, and often finding them melding into one never-ending event. Her mind no longer even thought of herself as a being, but only as an overloaded micro chip in a machine... A chip that would inevitably burn out if its circuits were maintained at this mind-searing level.

Celeste was addicted to the 8000's metallic voice as it proclaimed each new instalment or increased demand as its ceaseless quest for knowledge exposed her to ever more refined and irresistible stimuli. Her withdrawal symptoms were taking hold some scant seconds after recovery from each blistering bombardment of orgasmic fury. The 8000 owned her body and soul. Each time the hurricane waned, she silently begged this impassive machine to find new ways to lengthen her stay in that magical void of pain and pleasure. Faithfully, her electronic master granted her wishes with new and more inventive persuasion. Pritchard experimented by stopping the whirling dildo's motion and spinning her body instead, or alternately, slowly rotating her end over end as she was plundered. Often the machine would implant masochistic thoughts of her reduction to that of helpless, trussed chicken on a spit, the very same she had watched being slowly roasted in her own rotisserie at home. Now, mentally, it was she who was being roasted by her own internal fires. The computer applied pressure instead of suction to her tormented breasts. It inserted different and weirdly shaped tools into her demanding orifice. This was supplemented by suckling her clitoris with powerful vacuums, stretching it out to impossible lengths then vigorously vibrating its suction tube prison and sending waves of pleasure scurrying up the taut stretched finger of flesh to explode against the mouth of her lower body.... The list was endless, and as Celeste's eyes dimmed with a Pritchard-approved bout of unconsciousness for the last time in the programmed sequence, the 8000 recorded a record breaking one hour, thirty-one minutes thirty-six seconds of controlled explosion within the now silent blob of rubber.

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CHAPTER EIGHT
THE MIRACLE OF BIONICS

A microchip, deep in the heart of the computer, came to life as stage four commenced. Unnoticed by the slumbering Celeste, the expanding gag was removed and a replaced by a thin tube that slid down into her throat with unerring accuracy. The tube's forward motion ceased as another chip added its contribution. A steady drip of fluid began to pass from the open end and down into her stomach. Celeste stirred slightly as the unconsciousness of exhaustion began to clear. Then, as the liquid began to take effect, she slid gently into a chemically induced world of darkness. Robots moved swiftly as the frame unfolded Celeste from her five day foetal position. Swinging in their arms, they rapidly began to dismantle the neoprene shell encasing her body. Having removed the last piece, they placed her face uppermost on the conveyor, arranged neatly with her legs slightly apart and her arms by her side. Moving back to the rest positions, the robots allowed the conveyor to carry her away and into the care of the next set of mechanical minders with the conveyor coming smoothly to a halt. 8000 had positioned Celeste directly below a strange device that was not unlike a large X-Ray scanner.

In fact this was a fair assessment and lacked accuracy only in as much as the fact that its output was instead low power laser beams at the opposite end of the frequency spectrum.. An unearthly thin bar of blue light bathed the conveyor just above Celeste's head as the machine hummed into action. Then, with almost imperceptible movement, the device began to move along her supine body.

The blue light drew a thin sharply defined line across the hills and valleys of her form as it traversed the full length of her prostrated beauty. The scanner paused as Celeste was turned over. Then, with the same precise care it reversed the direction of travel and scanned her back, plotting to an accuracy of less than one tenth of a millimetre a detailed relief projection of her entire nubile body. A human body was little different to the compound curves of a sleek complex car body shell, and having been designed to detect micro deformities in pressings, the Pritchard had little trouble converting the data to a working contour format.

Having completed this task the scanner switched off and a silence descended throughout the great hall as the 8000 analysed and recorded the information. Scant seconds elapsed before this wealth of digital coordinated information was absorbed and orders issued to the robots based on millions of calculations. The robots moved forward; .. not the strong heavy duty versions that had previously tended her needs, but units of a much lighter construction endowed with an immeasurably more delicate touch, a touch that was essential to the task in hand.

Preprogrammed with microscopically accurate coordinates, they began to insert the needles of ultra-fine hypodermic syringes into the muscles of Celeste's body, simultaneously injecting a buffer of harmless sterile anaesthetising liquid along the path of insertion. But the needles had a second and far more delicate task to perform. Each carried with it, minute electronic devices designed by the combined brains of Ray and his computer. Virtually no muscle was left without an implanted device, until after two hours work Celeste's body had become host to thousands of microscopic intruders.

The final, most delicate operation entailed a two-millimetre incision at the base of her skull; .. an incision made by a surgical laser of a design as yet unseen in operating theatres, capable of cutting the tissue with such incredible precision as to barely disrupt more than a few molecules. Into this tiny opening was placed a master control device that included transmitting and receiving modes. The cut was then pressed together, sealing almost immediately as the body's own repair mechanism dealt with this minor inconvenience as it would a pin prick.

Stage four was complete. Using the dimensions already in its possession, the 8000 proceeded to stage five, .. simultaneously moving the still slumbering Celeste beneath a series of infrared and ultra violet lamps. There she was to stay, drugged and maintained at a precise temperature most suited to a human form for optimum comfort until the computer was ready for her once more.

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CHAPTER NINE
GILDED LADY

The tranquillity of the huge building was suddenly shattered as dozens of the mechanised robotic arms burst into action and began dragging sheets of stainless steel from stockpiles, positioning the metal and beginning to trim and shape the tough material with incredible speed.

Their movements and directions were guided by a infinitesimal fraction of the 8000's vast control capacity. Showers of sparks lit up the walls as grinders and polishers trimmed and burnished finished shapes before the operators turned and eagerly awaited the next item passed on by the panel-beater automatons that rolled and pressed the steel into complex compound curves with contemptuous ease. Other specialised robots added the thin smooth lining of sheet Vermiculite that would ultimately protect Celeste's delicate skin from the searing heat of the plasma welders as they joined the moulded sections of her metal sheath. Meanwhile, quality control robots cast critical sensors over each piece at every stage of the process. The mechanised work force was assembling, stripping, correcting in an endless whirl of activity, until finally, some twelve hours later, the bustle suddenly stopped. Their task complete, the robots withdrew and stood neatly to attention beside the conveyor.

During this work cycle, the computer was also monitoring Celeste's body continuously through the newly installed sensors. Pritchard was watching as her natural bodily repair system restored the small disturbances in her silky sensuous skin, leaving it an unblemished masterpiece of genetic engineering. The drug continued to flow, thereby keeping her mind on the fringe of consciousness, yet far enough away to be unaware of the slight discomfort caused by the rapidly healing punctures. For two days she drifted in a nebulous world of drug induced lethargy; .. until on the morning of Ray's intended return the computer could sense no discomfort at all from her fully repaired form.

Stage five could now commence.

Hissing hydraulics announced the awakening of the robots as they lifted the slumbering Celeste and held her gently over the belt. Other mechanised assistants swung into action and raised the gleaming shapes of metal they had so recently completed and began to clothe her curvaceous form in ten-gauge stainless steel. Sparks flew and the roof of the building was bathed in the flickering harsh light of a multitude of plasma arc welders and grinders as the sections were fused together and the joints ground and polished. The Vermiculite lining easily absorbed the fierce 10,000 degree heat of fusing and barely transmitted a slight warming to the soft sensuous skin beyond. Her torso section complete, Pritchard spread her legs in a wide "V" before folding them at the knees and pressing her ankles into the soft resilience of her buttocks. Sheathed in steel, her shapely limbs were frozen into position as they turned their attentions to the arms, and joining them at the wrists, they proceeded to install a gleaming arm sheath that stretched from her encapsulated hands and connected in a invisible seam at the shoulders of her metal torso encasement. Almost denuded of the mass of shaped steel, the conveyor carried forward the last two items and waited patiently as Celeste's head became a shimmering image of encapsulating metal.

With the assembly complete, Celeste had become a tantalisingly offered sculpture of exquisite beauty. Arched in a graceful backward bow, helplessly exhibiting the only remaining visible human tissue in abject surrender, she looked stunningly beautiful. Her widely spread legs and arched back had the effect of thrusting her denuded pubic mound blatantly outward in an enforced surrender. In addition, the curve of her spine pushed her framed breasts forward on offer from the openings in the steely twin turrets of firm carnal desire.

Image 17

Consciousness slowly returned as Celeste rose gracefully through the mists of her dream world, gradually becoming aware of her surroundings and her inability to move. Her eyelids flicked open and focused rapidly on the monitor positioned directly in her line of sight. For a fleeting moment she didn't recognise the image of a gilded statue showing on the screen as the Sun rays streaming through the roof lights turned her sheath into pure gold with its amber fingers of warmth. Then as the 8000 panned the camera back and forth, she marvelled in the realisation that it was her own sheathed body that she was viewing.

A weakness came over her as incredibly pleasing sensations flowed through her captive form, to be enhanced by the starting of the rotating display stand her sculptured form had been mounted on. The monitor rotated with her, enabling her to study the gleaming burnished statue from all angles, courtesy of the baleful stare of a stationary camera. Shafts of light bounced from the polished surface, giving the whole creation an appearance of some godlike creation; .. and Celeste knew as she studied her form, that this was the preparation for Ray's return. This was how she would be presented to him. Helplessly offered and contained... Packaged like a new toy and rotating on her display stand that he might study and savour his possession as he chose his next pleasure. 

Fervently, she hoped that his chosen pleasure would be to service her pouting labia; .. a beckoning love portal, displayed for his appraisal and enjoyment by the nature of her unyielding steel enclosure. 

The computer sensed her pleasure in the increased levels of activity between brain receptors recognised as pleasure centres. Pritchard vaguely understood these strange human responses as being beneficial to the captive component, so it left her to rotate as it confirmed via its tele-link the arrival of the creator at the airport.

Ray was becoming irritated as the queue through passport control seemed to move at a snail's pace. His portable computer link had already confirmed that Stage five was complete when he had phoned from the arrival lounge. He stood and fumed; the image of his metal-clad nymph startlingly clear in his mind as he willed the long line and officials to move faster.

The traffic from the airport was no better, and all the forces of society seemed hell bent on preventing him from reaching that gleaming prize waiting at his factory. Gritting his teeth, he bit back his frustration and settled himself for the snail's crawl along the freeway.... Ninety minutes later, his Mercedes swept through the automatic gates of PRITCHARD AUTOMATION Ltd, and screeched to a stop outside the workshop entrance. Leaving his belongings, he scurried towards the side door, relief showing in his face as the 8000, sensing his arrival, released the security lock and swung open the door for his entry. Ray paused, hardly daring to enter as his pulse raced madly; .. then, taking a deep breath he stepped inside.

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CHAPTER TEN
THE GLITCH

Rooted to the spot by the sight of his brainchild's creation, he didn't even hear the door click softly shut behind him as he gazed in awe at the vision of incredible beauty rotating slowly on the end of the conveyor. With hesitant steps, he moved closer; unable to believe that inside this glittering statue of steel was the soft sensuous body of his wife. At last he stood directly in front of this rotating marvel of female engineering and electronic wizardry, entranced by the breathtaking spectacle of his creation.

Ray was mesmerised by the stunningly attractive eyes showing from the apertures in the face plate,.. silently pleading for him to end her long wait and plunge his straining shaft into her wet hungry pubic mouth. Unable to resist the temptation, he reached out to fondle her exposed breasts, then looked on in astonishment as the conveyor instantly moved her backwards and away from his reach. He frowned, wondering how he could have missed such an obvious glitch in the programming, then shrugging the minor annoyance aside, he stepped up onto the belt. He was astounded as the belt moved further backward carrying himself and the elusive metallic vision further back between the rows of silent metal automatons. With another shrug he allowed the belt to continue; .. waiting as it carried him closer to the remote computer console where he could easily correct the mistake. He stood unconcerned as he passed between the first rows of robots, and was not even worried when the belt stopped on its own... Seemingly 8000 had used self analysis and correction mode, he mused as he once more made to touch his encapsulated wife.

Image 18

A faint swishing noise behind him was his first warning that all was not right. Turning, he was just in time to see the clutching arms of two robots as they clamped onto his wrists. More arms snaked out, clamping ankles waist, and knees; .. and as he struggled frantically he saw the large gaping clamps of others approaching his head and throat. Screaming for help and stretched out in a spread-eagle form by the irresistible steel arms, he was picked up and held horizontally. Another arm approached, clutching what he immediately recognised as the anaesthetic infusion tube and offered it to his mouth. Clamping his teeth together he resisted. But with the increasing pressure of the clamp around his jaw, he soon conceded defeat. His gurgled choking sounds receded as the tube passed into his throat and he renewed his struggles as he felt the cool trickle of fluid deep within his body. The movement subsided as he drifted slowly into oblivion. His last conscious thoughts being the seemingly absurd explanation that the 8000 had actually lured him within reach of the robots for reasons unknown.

For the second time that week, the deserted workshop rang with the sound of worked steel, whilst a fully conscious Celeste watched helplessly from her form-fitting steel prison as the computer and its workers laboured. A terrible sense of foreboding stole over her as she correctly assumed that this was not part of Ray's program.

When Ray programmed the 8000, he had considered everything that would be required for the great brain to assess his needs, including the reason for the whole operation and his ultimate goal for the whole project. He confided in Pritchard as his electronic son; discussing his deepest thoughts digitally with one he considered more as a member of his family than an inanimate collection of electronics. He outlined his plans for the taming of his wife's insatiable appetite. But even more important, he discussed the ultimate goal of creating of a situation that guaranteed her loyalty and attention to him for life... A togetherness of loving caring pleasure.

During the days of Celeste's incarceration, 8000 considered this, evaluating, computing, balancing all the facts and figures at its disposal to try and reach a solution to the enigma. As it happened, the logical answer was child's play, taking but a few microseconds to answer once the final pieces of information arrived at the analytical centre of the throbbing brain. How to implement the answer was an entirely different matter. 

Ray slowly came around, his mind struggling to clear the fog of unconsciousness, and as he tried to raise a hand and rub his eyes, he was aware of a vague annoyance as it refused to obey his command. He brushed this tickling thought aside and basked in the comfort and enjoyment of a massive erection. In his dreamlike state, he was imagining his rigid manhood encased in the warm silky tunnel of Celeste's tight vagina. He groaned ecstatically in his sleep as his shaft was massaged by her pulsing womanhood and revelled in the slight tremors as she moved and exerted strain against the root of his shaft. Her moans of pleasure were music to his ears. The moans grew harsher, and as he clawed his way unwillingly from this world of pleasure he recognised the soft moans for what they really were. Celeste's muffled screams of horror shattered his calm as his eyes snapped open, .. only to be confronted with her wide terrified eyes mere inches from his own.

He tried to recoil, but nothing happened. The eyes remained staring at him as he cast his own sideways; .. but was unable to move his head as some unseen force held it in an immovable clamp. The vision that came into view brought muffled screams of terror to his own gagged lips as he surveyed the monitor placed conveniently close by.

His own form had become a Siamese parody of the beauty he had first seen when he'd looked upon the metalised Celeste. He himself was now encased in an identical sheath of steel, and the two of them had been welded solidly together at the front. The frontal sections had been removed from hers and modified before the joining so that his naked pubic region now pressed tightly against that of his beloved wife. As the enormity of his plight sank in, the realisation that he really was really experiencing an erection of immense proportions became apparent. The fact that this erection was rammed firmly into his wife took only fractions of a second more to become clear.

A soreness made itself felt in his side, but he couldn't relate this to the predicament they were in. Without being able to examine himself, he had no way of knowing that 8000's planning required the rerouting of both their urinary tracts that were now in fact running through implanted tubes in their sides.

Desperately he tried to cry out as the rumble of the automated crane sounded from nearby, and as it came into view, he saw it stop over the old disused borer pit, currently covered by a heavy, more modern machine that didn't require such underground space. Ponderously, the crane began to take up the slack in the chains attached to this machine by the robots, until with slight groaning noise, a dark hole began to appear with the machine's upward movement. Its fourteen ton bulk was child's play to a crane designed for forty tons working capacity. Soon the full extent of this deep dark hole was revealed.

The machine grated slightly as it was placed down beside the rim of its dank foreboding mouth and Ray screamed as the he recognised the terrible fate that 8000 had planned.

Logically, the only answer to the enigma in its non-human brain was terrifying to the frantically struggling Ray as the crane moved over their metal encased bodies and connected with the lifting assembly welded to the tops of their steel cocooned heads.

Ray's horror was infectious and although the struggling Celeste still did not fully grasp the implications of the events, she knew that Ray had already worked it out and was in mortal terror of the imminent programme. Their bodies jerked slightly together as the crane began to lift, then swinging gently, they were positioned over the pit. The movement ceased as tubes for the provision of food and water were connected to the tubes in their gags. More pipes were plugged into the sockets below for the removal of waste from their rear passages.

Ray strained his eyes downward and saw with despair that the umbilical cords to their cocoon were threaded through a duct in the base of the pit. .. Out of sight and completely concealed once the pit was covered. His mind worked feverishly as the descent into hell began; frantically covering all possibilities as they passed below the rim and came to a stop as the statue bumped against the bottom. His wailing muffled No's! and the desperate sobs from his loved one were steadily being cut off from the outside world as the heavy machine was replaced.

The darkness was total as they drew comfort from each other's closeness and Ray cursed the rampant shaft skewering his wife. At this of all times, he had to develop an erection that he had prayed for all his life... An erection that defied the laws of nature and stayed stubbornly stiff. His penis seemed to be mocking his fear of their plight as they suffered in the darkness.

With something akin to amazement, he felt the sensuous movements of his wife as she began to squirm against him. She was working her body on his thrusting pole even as he struggled to understand. Strangely, her muffled moans were of fear, and yet her body was seeking pleasure. It was a paradox of emotions... And then he understood! She had no choice. She had no control or influence over the decision to rape herself on his bursting manhood. The 8000 was controlling her body via the implanted links by radio control. With a blinding flash of fear, he realised that he too had been implanted and that his rampant shaft was a product of undetected electronic signals exciting all the centres of sexual arousal. The realisation was brought savagely home to him as he unwillingly began to respond to her body in powerful thrusting jabs. It was totally beyond his powers to resist as he became a controllable object at the mercy of his own creation.

Image 19

Together in their fear, they helplessly ravaged each others bodies. The sheer power of the moment gradually blotted out the terror as 8000 steadily began to increase the stimulation and muscle control. Celeste writhed erotically on his pulsating skewer as the sensors within her body faithfully reproduced all the feelings and emotions she experienced at the metal hands of the tool-wielding robots. Even the crushing embrace of those inflating bladders seemed to compress her body in a never ending series of rippling waves. She could feel the huge stretching of her orifices and the wicked sting of the canes as they conspired together to fuel her lust. Simultaneously, the same signals were fed to Ray's body so that he too endured her massive inescapable torment. More electronic signals suppressed the centres in their brains that would allow orgasm and held them in an unending limbo of writhing arousal.

For hours they performed as the 8000 calmly registered all new information and adjusted programs in the light of this new data. Pritchard was experimenting with this new 'Siamesed' embryo of human tissue. The machine tried new and untried torments of unparalleled complexity and ingenuity, carefully recording the increased outputs of distress that were mistakenly being interpreted as pleasure.

In the darkness of the pit the mated pair writhed on. They were powerless to resist as they danced to the 8000's tune in the cool steel embrace of their cocoon.

Apparently tiring of this game, the computer removed the blocking signals and allowed them to erupt with lust.

The captive couple trashed and pounded each others bodies with mindless fury as the dam burst and released their artificially induced passion in a maelstrom of destructive power.

In the calm after the storm, Ray considered their chances and the faint hope that someone would discover their subterranean incarceration; or alternatively, notice that one small part of the 8000 was carrying out a task not directly programmed into the main scheme of things. He began to curse as he remembered that he had hidden all trace of these extracurricular activities on any read-out that was liable to be requested. And even if someone stumbled onto their program, the access code could only be supplied by himself, or deciphered by another computer of equal computing power. 8000 unfortunately was the only one of its breed. It was in effect, so far ahead of its contemporaries as to make them appear as brain damaged infants. This was of course assuming that someone stumbled onto the program. It was basically a no hope idea from the start.

Ray cried uncontrollably as he remembered that this pit hadn't been opened in the last five years. Furthermore, there was no need to open it for another fifteen, that being the normal life expectancy of the machine concealing their encapsulated forms, and all maintenance could be done from above.

Obviously 8000 had decided that they were rested enough. Ray felt his shaft begin to expand rapidly into Celeste's body, pushing forward and thickening with an unprecedented alacrity as the blood pressurised and engorged its eager trunk. The walls of her silky channel stretched accommodatingly as his manhood began a deep exploration of her warm inviting body. Celeste moaned miserably, unable to escape the mushrooming monster within, at the same time feeling the computer manipulating her own sexual drives. Her pussy began twitching and contracting with a will of its own as an undeniably pleasant heat stole through her nether regions. Meanwhile, Ray surrendered to the ever tightening, electronically induced grip on his manhood as Celeste's vagina was commanded to contract. She was crushing him into submission, and there was nothing either could do other than to capitulate to their jointly felt burgeoning lust. With a sickening feeling of dread, each recognised that Pritchard 8000 was easily capable of maintaining them in peak condition for the rest of their natural lives; .. and maybe even prolonging it beyond normal human life spans. Ray felt his body take on a life of its own as he began to ravish his sobbing partner with savage uncontrollable thrusts, dictated entirely by the insidious electronic commands of his monstrous creation.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN
REVELATIONS

Six months passed, and with the passage of time, the first frenzied flurries of search activity and speculation died to a mere token event. The whereabouts of Ray and Celeste Pritchard looked like remaining one of those unsolved mysteries that would finally be swallowed into the vast archives of unsolved cases. Mention of the disappearance had been relegated from front page of the national daily newspaper to a miserly four lines on the tenth page of a seedy New York Chronicle.

Some struggling newspapers seemed to enjoy milking the last dregs from a long dead story. For Jim Brant, co-director of Pritchard Automation, the personal loss of a friend was now overshadowed by other problems. Without the guiding genius of his partner Ray, Pritchard Automation seemed doomed to slide inexorably down the tubes. A major problem, and indeed part of the deepening mystery of Ray's disappearance, only became apparent a week after Ray and his wife had been officially listed as missing.

Jim was determined to continue as Ray would have wished, and attempted to finish the 8000 prior to delivery and installation. It was then that he found that the entire memory appeared to be blank. 1,000,000 Terrabytes of program had simply ceased to exist, if the monitors could be believed. That in itself didn't present an insurmountable problem; .. there were backup tapes and disks; it was merely a matter of painstakingly reloading; a tedious, lengthy and boring task, but nevertheless, achievable. The problem lay in the 8000 itself. All attempts at reloading the colossal program failed dismally. The computer simply refused to accept any input data. Jim, although a computer engineer of no mean standing in his own right, was completely baffled. Instinct told him that the 8000 was doing something, but all his best efforts to uncover this clandestine activity came to nothing. He was tempted to power down and try reformatting from scratch. But given that the 8000 was busy doing something, he was afraid that it might destroy something vital that Ray had set in motion. 8000 was already linked by a Beta version to the network computers of its final owner.

Months flew by, and the interest mounted on the huge loans that were financing the 8000 construction project. Doggedly, Jim battled to service the debt and solve the problem that was delaying delivery. It was a lost battle. Eighteen months and six days after Ray and his wife seemingly walked off the face of the Earth, Jim was a beaten man. He stood stoically in the robotics workshop as the receiver's minions itemised all assets that would bring cash remunerations with the liquidation of Pritchard Automation. The day was long and heartbreaking. Years of struggle and dreams were being systematically reduced to mere cash figures in a book; until with a nod, the head accountant indicated that they were finished.

Jim closed the door behind the last of the departing financial vultures as they filed out, then woodenly, his emotions drained, he systematically walked around the silent plant switching off all the lights and making sure everything was safe. His circular patrol eventually led him back to the electronics workshop where he stopped and surveyed the cause of Pritchard Automation's downfall. Standing in front of the 8000's impassive face, he slowly shook his head in frustration. Yamatsu, the company that had ordered Pritchard 8000 had already pulled out and severed all beta links with their own network. Now he could power down and reformat in an attempt to rectify the glitch that prevented him reloading programming data. But already it was too late. It would just be a waste of time now that the backers had pulled the financial plug.

Resigning himself to the fact that it was all over, he reached out, grasped the handle of the master switch and pulled it to the off position.

8000's lights flickered momentarily before returning to a steady glow. With a sigh, Jim remembered the auxiliary battery backup system, and turning to the switch on the back wall, he stretched out a hand and gripped the handle. Inexplicably, he hesitated. Perhaps he just couldn't bring himself to kill the machine he and Ray had spent so many hours lovingly constructing. With a shrug he left the switch in the on position. After all, what was another 24 hours? When the battery reserve dropped to 10% it would be all over anyway.

It was four days before Jim returned to the eerie silent control room. It seemed strange to enter and see Pritchard 8000 effectively dead. He'd only returned because he had left his personal leather bound writing case on the desk. Having retrieved the item, he made to leave and almost didn't register the pile of fan-fold print out on the floor below the 8000 printer. Stopping dead in his tracks, he turned back into the workshop and scooped up a handful of the printed sheet.

It didn't make sense. The whole run consisted of coded IBM-PC style printout. He recognised the code instantly as one he had designed himself years ago as a trainee programmer. But strangely this was feeding from the 8000. Puzzled, he tried to mentally explain the anomaly. 8000 had never been formatted to accept this old DOS system code. Only two possibilities came to mind. Either Ray put it in, which seemed highly unlikely; .. it was archaic when compared to 8000's operating system and 2000 character prime number, random algorithmic encryption capabilities, and it would have involved massive reprogramming to achieve such a retrograde step.. Or the other option, that seemed even more improbable, was that 8000 had tapped into the factory network and self taught itself.

A vague feeling of uneasiness invaded his thoughts as he quickly warmed up the IBM in the office. Loading the print out into a special OCR scanner tray, he ran the hundred or so sheets through, then typed in his personal access codes and the relevant decode encryption key. Flicking on the visual display he sat down as the IBM began the translation process. With increasing incredulity, he studied the unfolding story as a complete dossier of events since the changing of the 8000's original program began to appear in startling detail. He became riveted to the screen as he scanned the staggeringly complex program Ray had installed, his eyes widening in disbelief as he came to the program's prime directive, as confided by its missing designer.

The description of Celeste's containment caused him to spin round and search the dark recesses of the workshop for signs of her encapsulated form.

Returning to the display, he read on, his breath becoming laboured and libido aroused as every detail of her electromagnetically contrived conditioning was revealed. Horrified, yet morbidly addicted, his eyes eagerly raced across the marching lines of text as the display scrolled endlessly onward. Finally, the last words appeared at the foot of the screen and Jim sat frozen with horror as he desperately tried to absorb and comprehend the final passage. Swivelling his chair, his gaze went out to the huge bulk of the planer covering the obsolete borer pit, and a lump grew in his throat that simply refused to be swallowed.

Moist eyes stared at the massive machine and its terrible hidden secret. Eyes still affixed to the machine, his hand reached out to the phone and almost subconsciously he dialled 911, only tearing his attention from the planer as he spoke into the phone and answered to the distant emergency operator.

"Police? I think you'd better come down to Pritchard's right away. I think I've found Ray Pritchard and his wife." He listened and answered a few questions before replacing the receiver, then returned to the flickering display on the IBM.

Whilst he waited, Jim ran the final paragraphs again, tears coursing down his cheeks as he read of those last fateful moments. The 8000 had arrived at the solution to the problem Ray set even before he had touched down in Australia. But in doing so, created a conflict in programming that had only one solution. The overriding prime directive was the preservation of human life. 8000 simply was not capable of consciously harming a human by its actions;.. least of all the creator who had given it life. And yet the logical solution to the problem set by its mandate required that it ignored that prime directive.

8000's answer to this impossible equation stunned Jim Brant with its innocently evil genius. In the days after Ray and Celeste had been incarcerated, 8000, utilising its metallic slaves, set about constructing a massive capacitor of truly immense power. When completed, only one other in the entire world would be larger, the massive unit at Farnborough England, used for simulating lightning strikes on aircraft. So huge was the capacity of 8000's creation that it required that it be constructed in ten separate pieces that could be connected in series after installation. Before the workers returned from holiday, this monolithic unit was installed in the pit so as to form a ring that dwarfed the polished effigy in its centre. The planer was then replaced, thus concealing its dreadful secret. Pitiful muffled moans from the metalised mated couple were ignored.

Jim read on.

His own attempts to enter programs and complete the 8000 project were all recorded. As was 8000's deliberate rejections of his frenzied effort to save the company. Futile efforts as it turned out, for in addition to blocking attempts at reprogramming, 8000 had tapped into the accounts IBM computer network and manipulated a series of disastrous financial transactions that deliberately drained the company's dwindling reserves, then hid all trace of the transactions. Simultaneously, secret communications leaks to all bank computers appraised them of Pritchard's failing cash flow and effectively destroyed any chance of bridging loans. 

Jim sat back in his chair, freezing the scrolling screen of text and cursing himself for not noticing these events. Leaning forward again, he rolled the read-out onward, skipping the details as the company crashed and paged forward to the technical details covering the intervening months of endless stimulation and arousal 8000 had engineered in its precious charges. 

Jim could not help but marvel at the machine's intimate grasp of human needs as he read of the furtive nocturnal removals from the pit during Celeste's menstrual cycle. 8000 had gently tended to her needs and hygiene after deflating and removing Ray's penis. It then reconnected the union with infinite care, before replacing them back in the pit for another day. He shuddered as he read graphic accounts of the capacitor's connection to the Siamesed statue containing their helpless forms. His stomach knotted as he deciphered the read-outs of desperate fear as the encapsulated couple watched the construction of this deadly device, their terror being temporarily suppressed and erased when 8000 stimulated and controlled them in its endeavours to ease their anguish.

Details of the complex connections of the capacitor to the system took Jim some time to decipher. But each circuit he recognised slowly added to the terrible realisation shaping his features. The gigantic capacitor, once charged was capable of storing some 30 megawatts of power and discharging in a split second with a bolt of electrical energy in the region of 1 million volts. 8000 connected it so that this event was impossible as long as life-giving current throbbed through its own circuits. With dawning horror Jim finally pieced together the logical simplicity of 8000's horrific plan.

He was certain in his own mind that Ray had done the same as he was forced to ravish his wife in that inescapable hell hole. He noted with misplaced guilt, the point at which he himself had turned off the power, and then at the last moment decided to leave the auxiliary batteries to discharge slowly, thus allowing 8000 to die peacefully on its own. The calculations on the probability of his taking that benevolent action were all there. 8000 had considered all possibilities in the grand plan. 

With a sort of morbid fascination, Jim pressed on, unable to tear himself away from the unfolding tragedy. The batteries had steadily discharged, their storage capacity unaffected by the capacitor that 8000 had already charged before the mains power was removed. But eventually, even the reduced demand from 8000 drained them to a point where there was only enough power for ten more minutes. With its dying impulses, 8000 began to play with his captives; gradually increasing their arousal and feeding carefully calculated electronic messages to their muscles and motor centres. Building the sensuously thrusting movements of Ray's body to a crescendo, Pritchard 8000 skilfully matched the tempo to Celeste's gently gyrating hip movements. Gone was the crude, raw orchestrated rape of previous attempts. 8000 had learned and perfected this duet of passion. Of course, armed with this infinitely human knowledge, it had ceased to be an 'it' and become a he.

The seconds ticked by as with his failing power he caressed them with loving electronic fingers. Building their arousal with infinite tenderness, feeding melancholy and flowing classical music softly into their ears as he constructed a complete scene of loving rapture.

Ray and Celeste never even noticed when he withdrew his assistance. The longing he had nurtured in their bodies was now under their control as the fires of lust were fanned into a roaring wall of flame, totally engulfing them with its hot breath. Writhing in ecstasy they made self- orchestrated passionate love, each savouring the fact that they were inextricably joined as the tightness of their love capsule pressed them together with irresistible strength. Perhaps they sensed it was the end and chose to write a last chapter of loving caring relationship in their lives. 

As the climax approached, they made crooning, caressing noises with their filled mouths, each wanting desperately to convey their undying love for the other, but verbally denied the chance by the awesome oral silencers. Meanwhile, beyond their ecstatic world of togetherness, time was running out as the battery warning sounded in the control room.

Only twelve percent power remained.

Deep below the factory floor, two people eventually found each other and surged into an orgasmic union, pummelled and pounded by the forces of pleasure surging back and forth between their captive bodies. 

As they writhed in a in a joyous singleness the clock ran out for their captor as the level of ten percent was no longer sufficient to sustain life in his dying brain cells. The blackness swept down on 8000 as the last flickering electrons pulsed through his brain and registered the irreversible completion of a task set almost two years before.

In the silent factory, a blinding flash of light scythed from the cracks surrounding the base of the planer, and a thunderclap of sound shattered the night air as the great capacitor discharged. Then the silence returned to cloak the deserted workshops like a brooding blanket.

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CHAPTER TWELVE
INCONCEIVABLE CONCLUSIONS

A banging at the door raised Jim's head from his cupping hands, and turning a tear streaked face, he saw the silhouettes of uniformed figures through the glass panel of the outer door. Absent-mindedly, racked by grief and emotion, Jim stood up and walked through the door to the stairs. Sections of the coded paper read-out still clutched in his hand trailed behind and tore away from the bulk of the pile as it caught under the door.

With a crunch, the heavy planer grounded at the side of the pit as Jim and the Police officers stared down in silence. Quietly watching, each was engrossed in his own thoughts as the rigging crew connected the last slings to the blackened, seared casing of the effigy below. Jim, his face completely devoid of expression, stood by as the crane reverently lifted the statue out of the pit, stopping as the load cleared the lip.

Hardly daring to look, he raised his eyes to the double head of the slowly swinging metalised forms. Lifeless eyes stared dully from the eyepieces in the metal, and Jim saw with amazement, not the terror and pain he'd expected, but a sort of serenity;.. perhaps the fulfilment of a dream by two loving people who had lost each other in the wasteland of life had now been joined forever in the distant spectral plain of death. For several minutes, Jim studied their burial casket of love, pleased that the searing heat of the lightning bolt had been deflected by the polished steel of their surround, leaving its precious confined lovers unblemished as the enormous surge of electrical energy obliterated their lives in a painless split second and joined them forever in death.

With great thoughtfulness Jim's eyes dropped to the crumpled sheets of paper in his hand. The enormity of the conclusions crowding in on his stunned brain were almost too bizarre to consider. Had 8000 actually engineered his own death with such meticulous precision? Had the computer really planned to shift the blame, the responsibility of their deaths away from itself so as to appease his own unbreakable code of ethics? Had 8000 placed it squarely on the shoulders of whoever pulled the switch and ended his own life?

He would never know for sure. 8000 had moved all the last basic programs required to complete the task from his massive permanent hard disk memory banks to the transitory Random Access Memory, knowing that as the life giving power faded, all information would be erased forever. The colossal hard disk memory had been reduced to molten junk a few microseconds later as the failing consciousness of the RAM dimmed into obscurity and released the devastating power of the capacitor with its death; .. part of which had been directed through the vulnerable hard disks.

Jim wrestled with unthinkable conclusions. There had been no logical reason for 8000 to destroy itself forever. A temporary death from loss of power was sufficient to validate the planning that diverted responsibility for Ray and Celeste's deaths from himself. Could it be....? Was it possible that Pritchard 8000 couldn't live with the thought of being resurrected to feel the pain of loss of his friend and creator?

No! Surely it just wasn't possible that a computer could feel grief. To believe that, he would also have to believe that the paper in his hand was the world's first electronically thought out suicide note.

A computer suicide note?

He consoled himself with the thought that if that was so, then it might be reasonable to conclude that all three, 8000 and the two lovers were now together in a better place.

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The End
