The Endgame

Author's note: This is exploring what I think is a cool idea. It's mostly explored by tying as much of the rules and backstory as possible into sex, of which there is a lot.

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He was sitting at the same table, at the same café, for the third day in a row.

He had a bland face that made him difficult to remember, but I reviewed all the players each day and on the second day I took a surreptitious photo and checked that, yes, he was a player.

I checked all target records for addresses and recreation details. It was extremely unlikely he was targeting anyone but me.

I stopped and glared at him as I walked past towards my apartment building.

He was pretending to read a newspaper.

I stalked up to his table and said "I'm watching you."

"I should hope you are," he said as he folded his newspaper and took a careful sip of his coffee. "I am certainly watching you."

Right, challenge delivered, then.

I turned on my heel and stalked haughtily away. I could feel his eyes boring into my back until the door closed behind me.

I took extra care going into my apartment, double-checked all the locks on the doors and windows, reset the alarm system with a new PIN and went to bed with a stun gun under the pillow.

Just let the little fucker try something now!

#

I woke up groggy and confused, tried to rub my eyes and woke up the rest of the way violently but with head still spinning.

A quick check confirmed that I was naked and shackled at the wrists and ankles and pulled into a Y shape, legs spread and arms together, which was interesting: Most players preferred the classic X.

Well, fuck.

I glanced around - no longer in my apartment, then. There was a complete setup here, suggesting whoever it was would go straight for a full indoctrination instead of playing with me first.

"Alright," I said. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Language!" A mild voice from the corner said. "That's no way to greet your future Lord and Master!"

I stared at him. "You!"

He stood up and bowed, putting his face into the light.

"How the fuck did you manage it?"

"I told you," he said, "I have been watching you a long time. I worked out your building codes a week ago, planted a trace program to report your alarm codes and managed to get a gas canister into the air-conditioning vents above your bed. I just had to pick my moment."

I let my head drop back with a thump onto the padded surface I was lying on. That was preparation that impressed even me.

"Well done," I said. "Why me?"

"I like your body," he replied, standing up and walking over to me. "Your breasts are firm but not too big. You're fit, but aren't trying to look like a dancer."

He picked up the first pad, peeled the backing off and stuck it firmly to my inner thigh, low down. "What do you do, by the way? I hadn't bothered checking that out."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "I might have been a ninja," I suggested.

He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips as he attached the second and third pads. "No," he said, "you're not. Besides, that would be against the rules." He attached the last pad to that thigh and started on the other one, leaning over me.

Well, he had me there. "I do rock-climbing," I said. "Not an awful lot, but I enjoy it."

He nodded, finishing that thigh and moving onto the six pads on my belly. "It's good to have something to enjoy," he said, pressing pads onto my firm stomach. "Apart, of course, from everything else."

He finished my belly and then attached the pads to my breasts before carefully attaching the clitoris shield and finally moving the head-piece into place, fastening it securely around my temples and holding my head rigid.

"You're taking your time," I said.

"I don't believe in rushing things," he replied. "This needs to be an art form. It should be treated as such. As art, not mechanics."

"Well," I said, "I appreciate the uhuhuhuhuhuh don't you try the subtle approach with me!"

He put the controller down, having confirmed it was working. "I like the subtle approach," he said mildly. "I enjoy watching it, I enjoy drawing this out."

Drawing it out? Points were scored for how quickly subjects were broken, and he was trying to draw it out?

"Why on ahhhhhhhh! Would you stop that while I'm t... aaaaaaahhhh! Talking to you!"

"No," he said with a grin. "I won't. I'm going to keep going. As I like it."

He took his jacket off then removed his tie and then his shirt, revealing the most ripped torso I had ever seen on someone that elegantly slender.

I whistled in appreciation. He grinned at me, then his hand moved out of sight.

"Ooooooh, subtle, aren't you!" The sudden tingling faded from all over my skin and then my clitoris felt a sharp electric snap. "Yeowch!"

He had managed to distract me as he slipped out of his pants, revealing hard legs and leather shorts cut to reveal a package which needed no enhancement.

"Oh come on, take it all offffff, fuck!" The current turned off and my muscles relaxed again. "You're going for the unexpectOWed, aren't you, that HURT!"

"I may be," he said, strolling around me and picking up a loaded syringe.

He held it up in front of my eyes. "As per regulations, your personal mix of testosterone, oestrogen, methamphetamines, oxytocin and sildenafil. Do you have a preference for an injection site, or shall I use your left nipple?"

Not everyone used the allowed chemical assistance but all registered targets had to be tested for physiological response and their optimum recipe was included in each year's competition rules. The preferred injection site was also included, but clearly he enjoyed giving the choice between assisting the captor or suffering greater torture.

I happened to like injections and got a perverse pleasure out of playing along while still resisting, even if it did count against my resistance score sometimes.

"Femoral artery," I said in my huskiest voice. "Just in the ... groin."

He smiled, faintly, appreciating the effort. "Kinky. I like it."

He quickly opened a couple of alcohol wipes, cleaned the area and the needle, injected me with skill and efficiency at just the right point to stimulate nerve endings, the bastard, pressed a ball of cotton wool over the entry point as he withdrew the needle and then slipped a band aid over it. He kept his skills up to date, then.

I felt it instantly, rolling through me in a hot and ecstatic rush. Methamphetamine and oestrogen for arousal, sildenafil for erectile tissue response, testosterone for sexual response and oxytocin to make me accept his will.

I squirmed, tried to arch my back, the pads and the clitoral shield suddenly sexual things there to excite not torture, to play with me and my nerves, extensions to his fingers.

My thoughts were turning to the erotic already. I needed to focus, if I was going to retrieve any points from this.

"Now," he said softly. "Are you ready?"

"Slip your fingers in and see," I retorted. I couldn't help myself sometimes.

His fingers moved out of sight, but not between my legs.

There was a sharp click, a warning tone, a red light flashed across my vision and I felt it in my head - the chip had awoken, checked itself and was pushing at my consciousness.

As soon as I dropped resistance, accepted it or simply stopped fighting from exhaustion or lack of concentration, it would switch me off and implant my second, slave, personality in its place. My reward would be continuous orgasm, my consciousness slowed down to glacial pace but trapped endlessly surfing the peaks of pleasure until it was retrieved and reinstated.

I knew that feeling, knew it well, and my body acted as though it had been involved. He could have attacked then, turned the TENS machines on, used whatever toys he preferred, and caught me so far on the back foot my defeat would be as quick as it was inevitable.

But he let me recover my equilibrium, as far as I could against the tirelessly constant, beguiling pressure of the chip within my mind.

"The game begins," he said softly, almost formally, and gently stroked my thigh between the wires.

I moved under his touch, my body wanting more, my mind beginning to feel the effects of the oxytocin, to trust him, but my rigorous training reminding me, in an endless loop, that we were playing a game and I must, at all costs, retain my sense of self.

He moved his fingers and tickled my lips. My hips rolled up to meet him as I breathed out in a long, soft sigh.

Some fought, resisted all the way. I never could. I viewed the competition not as a tournament for gladiatorial combat but as a playing field for games. I played along with captors, revelling in the imposed fleshly pleasure, the lack of control, the denied and forced orgasms.

Some denied it, resisted, demanded to be broken and when they were their minds went snap. I played a subtler game, swimming in the seas of arousal, always on the edge of the whirlpool, and let the sensations of my body flow past me, letting them buffet me and spin me around while I curled protectively around the central hard core of my resistance to the chip.

"This could be so easy," he said softly, his fingers gently caressing me as he began the psychological game. "You could just give in to me. You know I'll take good care of you."

I could, I thought in the singing pink fog inside my head. But that would be against the rules.

"If you don't, I may have to drive your body to exhaustion," he continued as he gently slipped inside me, finally finding out how ready I truly was.

I clenched around him, reminding myself Yes, that's the rules.

"I don't want to cause you any unnecessary distress," he continued as he slowly explored me, forcing easily through even my trained muscles.

"Not when you could make me so happy." His voice filled with regret even as his thumb rubbed me just under the hood over my clitoris.

Oh, he was good at this. He was very good at this. I made no reply, letting the burning in my cunt flow through and around me.

He shrugged and withdrew.

It would have been so easy for him to go straight to pain, to try and break through my resistance by making every muscle spasm and scream.

But he didn't. Not at first.

He let me recover, let me focus on him again, before touching the switch that made all my muscles under the TENS pads contract, painfully sudden and hard, across my legs and belly.

Then he let me relax, my body flopping as my mind continued thinking Hold on to your self, let it flow over and past you...

I squirmed, gasping as my breasts became alive with tingling, pins and needles over their entire surface.

I tried to curl up around my suddenly tight belly, then relaxed gasping as delicious fingers of electricity played lightly over my breasts and flirted with my nipples.

I screamed as my clitoris awoke to a sudden shock, then my body went taut and then slack. I lay gasping as the pressure in my mind grew a voice, whispering sub-vocally I should relax, let it take the pain, let my reward be endless orgasm, so sweet orgasm, rolling over me and consuming my being in white flames of delirium...

My subconscious, curled around itself, whispered "Let the pain flow through and around and over you, float upon its surfaces and in its depths and when it is past you will remain."

My breasts woke once more, sweet pleasure swelling them, enticing a purring murmur of pleading from my mouth before I felt two cool cylinders press over my achingly erect nipples.

I screamed as an electric lance of pain went through my clitoris, then moaned as suction pulled my nipples into the glass tubes, stretching them to the point of too far as bladders squeezed them from the sides.

I had been expecting the sharp, demanding pain of clamps, they always used clamps, but the expectation had been a mistake, this sweeter pleasure nearly sending my resistance fluttering in its own shock.

My body groaned as the ache in my breasts grew.

My body screamed as a thin cane lashed the sole of my right foot.

My body groaned as the suction, which had relaxed, began again to pull and squeeze my nipples.

My body screamed as the thin cane lashed my left foot.

My body moaned as my breasts awoke with electric caresses.

My body screamed to the snap of a shock to my clitoris.

My consciousness curled itself tighter and tighter around its self and its resistance and repeated to itself "Let it flow over and around you. Let it flow through and past and when it is gone you will remain."

The pain and the pleasure played around me like a storm, never breaking - that too was in the rules. Orgasm is not allowed, seen as too much to resist, an unfair advantage, a reward to be kept for those who submit. It was denied not by judgement but by neural implants and not even the hope was there.

My mouth was parched when he turned off the current and the suction and held a drinking tube to my lips. I sucked greedily, my body parched from screaming, gasping, shouting and sweating.

He pulled the tube away while my cheeks were still hollowing as I sucked, but the drink had cleared my head, bringing the ache in my muscles and the painful throbbing in my nipples and clitoris into stark relief, the orgasm denied me still taunting me from the ache between my legs.

He gently brushed his fingers across my nipples and my body nearly sobbed, the flesh so sensitive his skin was like sandpaper.

Then he was gone for a few seconds until I felt his fingers part my cunt lips and hard, cool metal worked inside me. The speculum stretched me a little vertically and then he slowly ratcheted it apart, gaping me wide, my flesh protesting but knowing the feeling so well.

He stopped as my gasps turned to the hiss of incipient pain, rolled wet fingers around my nipples again to make me moan and return to pleasure, then smoothly slipped a wet, slippery plug inside my arse.

The break as he let me drink had ruined my concentration, but I fell back into my mental state, feeling what was being done to me merely as sensations that came and went. But when he turned on the plug and my arse clenched about it the novelty threatened to undo me.

My consciousness curled itself tighter into a ball, whimpering to itself, repeating the mantra of Let it flow over and past you, and you will remain...

Clamps closed upon my nipples, painfully tight. It was almost a relief, after expecting them for so long.

My whole body awoke, clenching and burning, electricity flowing through every pad and point of contact, my breasts aching so sweetly, my nipples suddenly searing red/white, the clamps also electrodes.

My body screamed in agony/ecstasy and my mind cowered.

A vibrator slipped past the speculum, swift and sure and already buzzing and I cried for mercy that would not come until I gave in to him.

I lay, arching and convulsing on the table, my flesh crawling with pleasure, my being burning with it, all of reality become an unbearable ache in my cunt.

Pain lanced through me trailing white streamers of delirious joy. When the sensations suddenly went away, I cried to have them come back.

"Would you like another drink?" he whispered solicitously in my ear.

"Yes please, Master," I croaked, barely able to speak, let alone comprehend.

I felt his cock at my lips, smelt it under my nose, and gratefully took it into my mouth.

He was good to me, not forcing it down my throat, just sliding in and out a little as the sensations slowly returned, my body shaking and twitching, my breasts crawling with what must surely be St Elmo's fire, my nipples lightning rods, my arse and cunt cruelly toying with my orgasm but not allowing it.

His orgasm came slowly but steadily and I was nearly as desperate for it when he finally pulsed in my mouth and filled it as I greedily swallowed and sucked for more.

The sexual contact had reminded me of the stakes, forced my involvement, put me where he needed me but I could not afford to be - a conscious participant.

"How are you feeling?" he asked tenderly as my body twisted and burned to the electric touch of the pads.

He was trying to draw me out, to engage with me, to pull me out of my shell so he could pinion my mind as well as my body. I had to deny him, had to disengage once more from my body, had to ignore the flesh.

Some players tried to use authority, to awaken submissiveness and order their captives to submit. He was playing the friend card still, a more subtle and harder gambit to resist.

I refused to answer him, repeating to myself, over and over whispering silently "Let it flow over and through you, let it pass, let it burn, for you will remain."

"I'm sorry you're forcing me to do this to you," he said in a voice dripping with genuine regret. "I don't really want to have to do this to your left foot."

Searing pain lanced from the sole of my left foot as the cane struck it.

"Or your right breast."

The cane deftly found flesh between the pads and the wires, bringing tears to my eyes and a scream to my throat.

"Or your left thigh."

Pain blossomed from my flesh, a star in the exhausted, cowering blackness of my mind.

"Or your right nipple."

This time the pain was electrical and felt like burning liquid metal had invaded my breast. I twisted on the table, tied rigidly and screaming, sobbing until warm pleasure from every part of my skin spiralled up to engulf my mind and salve it.

"Or your right foot."

It might have been the cane, or a cattle prod, slicing through the tingling, persistent pleasure from nipples and breasts and burning cunt.

My body writhed while my brain curled around itself and whimpered, repeating its mantra.

"Or your left nipple."

Even in its foetal crouch my mind flinched, my body trying to twist away in the half second between comprehension and pain which died quickly in the tingling ache of need from the same flesh.

"Belly."

The cattle prod, making my body try to curl up around my stomach.

Right foot.

Suddenly I wasn't hearing his voice through my ears, merely understanding his words in my mind, not even sure he was still speaking as knowledge and pain blurred into one.

Right breast. Left thigh. Right nipple. Left foot. Left breast. The pain struck without pattern, giving me no time to rest as my body twisted and flinched and writhed, trying to avoid the inevitable.

Left foot. Right thigh. Right foot. Left breast. Belly. Right nipple. Right thigh. Left breast. Right foot.

It was almost as if the knowledge was creating the pain without him needing to do anything at all as I swam on a sea of background maddening pleasure, pain lancing through it like lightning, again and again.

Right breast. Left breast. Left foot. Left nipple. Left thigh. Right nipple. Left foot. Right thigh. Left breast.

The knowledge was determining my whole reality.

Right foot.

I flinched away before the pain arrived.

Left nipple.

I cringed and pain seared through me.

Right thigh.

I twisted and the pain came.

Right breast.

I jerked and pain exploded on my chest.

Your mind.

I cringed and the chip took me and he won.

Light flared through my entire being, a supernova shattering my consciousness as I came, distending time and destroying space, my shrieks of ecstasy ringing through reality, my mind engulfed in orgasm without my body involved.

#

I woke up at the annual celebration, when slaves are liberated and start afresh.

Reality returned with a rush, dousing my endless white ecstasy in icy water, leaving me gasping in shock, nipples suddenly erect from the adrenalin.

I appeared to be wearing a tight under-bust corset with frilled edges, frilly panties and some form of strapped shoes. Once again, I had acquired nipple piercings. There was a ring in each nipple, and a silver chain between them. I wasn't sure, but I might have a clit piercing as well.