Fin

Technophilic Nightmare Part 3

Randall blinked at the woman standing before him, telling him to follow.

She stared back passively, not at all budging from where she stood, waiting for him to answer.

"W-Wait... what the fuck is going on?" he asked, but the woman shook her head.

"If you have questions, I am not the one you'll be asking. Follow me, Randall, and I will take you to the one who will."

There was no trust for this woman. She was not of the crew, and she sure as hell didn't seem like a total prisoner. And unlike Moira, she seemed far more in control of herself.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then the Machines will have their way, and you will not have such an opportunity again. And they can be quite... harsh, when someone spurns such generosity."

Randall gulped nervously; he'd already experienced what those machines could do... experiencing worse seemed unhealthy.

He exhaled in resignation, and then looked up at her.

"Fine," he acquiesced.

"Good. Follow me," she indicated, turning around and gesturing for him to follow.

He got to his feet, though his legs felt wobbly; after Moira's intense session, and everything that happened before that, he was feeling quite weak. Not weak enough he couldn't walk, but it took a few steps before he regained his strength, following behind the woman.

Her strides were confident, she had no fear walking these alien halls. But there was also a subtle sway to her hips... and given her utter nudity, her only 'attire' being the mechanical frame closely hugging parts of her body, it was hard not to be distracted.

But Randall couldn't shake the feeling he was being led into the lion's den, feeling this woman was a danger. He wanted to escape, get away from this place.

He followed her out into a hall beyond, wide for humans but just too small for the regular machines. Not without it being a very tight fit.

The architecture here seemed only mildly more human oriented, and otherwise remained quite bizarre and unwelcoming. They eventually entered a series of corridors that ran around various rooms, some appearing empty, others seemingly devoted to machinery of unknown purpose... whilst some, their iris doors cracked open, seemed like living spaces for a handful of people. And Randall spied a fleeting number of other humans, clad in similar flush-fitting, exoskeletal frames around their spines, shoulders, and legs.

They had to be from the LEYLINE Project base... after all these years, they were still alive.

But what were they now, really...?

Randall grimaced, starting to freak out a little. Such that the woman's shapely rear did not offer much of a distraction.

They then passed by a T-intersection, the woman leading him straight ahead, but the branching corridor ran straight to his left... and at the end, he saw a door open, revealing the hollow interior of the massive multi-layered spire this was all integrated in.

There were cables just beyond, cables that looked like he could've climbed.

It wasn't logic that dictated his decision. He grimaced, and with a surge of panic, suddenly broke away from the woman and made a mad dash towards the door.

He didn't hear the woman exclaim or shout or anything, and he wasn't exactly listening. All he could hear was his breathing, heavy in his ears as he pounded down the corridor.

Alas, he did not get very far, as one of those centipede-shrimp machines he saw in the LEYLINE lab emerged from a vent in the wall.

He yelped and skidded to a stop, almost falling over. Giving it enough time to flank him, spin him around, force him on his knees, and restrain him, metallic limbs clasping around his neck and head.

He struggled, but could not fight against the machine's strength. And watched as the woman approached, clicking her tongue and shaking her head in disappointment.

"That was a very foolish and rude of you, Randall," she chastised. She did not seem angry at all. "We are gracious hosts, but we don't appreciate such bad manners, especially after offering knowledge."

She looked at him, as if wondering what to do with him. He let out a quiet whimper.

"Please... I'm begging you, let me go, let

us

go," he pleaded.

"This world is not open to outsiders. Coming here has consequences, but we are not the sort to hurt those who trespass. We have better ideas. As for more immediate consequences... I should send you down to the hive pits for the Guardians to toy with. But, it would be a waste to not give you the answers you seek. So,

since

my compatriots and I are gracious hosts, I will take you to my superior. But you

will

behave. You will be

made

to."

She raised a hand and snapped a finger. Another of those small machines scuttled along the roof to her, and curled down off the ceiling to present itself to her... holding a strange device.

Though, perhaps not so strange when Randall saw it side-on... its shape was quite phallic, looking like a segmented shell of a penis, balls and all.

The 'glans' split open in clam shell fashion, revealing an interior covered with small, circular glossy nodules.

The hollow shell then opened up along the top, and the woman crouched down to slip what was effectively a chastity cage onto Randall's cock, though it seemed far larger than he was erect.

Because it was adjustable... the segmented components whirring at a near-silent pitch as the two halves closed up, and the 'balls' folded into place, cupping and containing his own sack.

Discrete lubrication seemed to be released... and then came the vibrations and the electrical stimulation, as it locked in place around the root of his cock.

He loosed a shivering groan, and quickly grew hard. Once he was erect, the shell contracted until it was snug around his member, a tight fit, but not painfully so.

It was the constant thrum of low intensity vibrations and carefully metered electrical stimulation that was slowly proving to be the real pain, for entirely different reasons.

Namely... it wasn't enough for him to cum.

"What is this?!" he blurted out, hips thrusting in reflex as his nerves were excited, but simply not enough.

"It's your punishment. You'll be allowed to orgasm when I am satisfied you have learned your lesson... if nothing else, this will ensure your compliance. Now come, we've wasted enough time."

She gestured upwards with a hand, and the machine holding onto him let him go.

He whimpered... and like a submissive follower, he trailed after the woman, face twisting with the edging pleasure he had no way of stopping, his hands periodically trying to claw the device off, but it was rather firmly affixed to his dick.

"It won't come off, Randall. Accept the penalty and show some obedience, and you will be freed from it. Once I have taken you to my superior."

"And... haa... who the fuck is your superior?" he demanded.

The woman did not answer, simply opening an iris door at the end of the corridor, a narrow, brightly lit tube with a circular platform within.

She stepped in, and turned around.

"You already know," she answered cryptically.

Randall stumbled inside and groaned as his rod twitched and leaked, but remained just out of reach of release. Even when he tried to squeeze and stroke the shell, he couldn't add enough stimulation to push him over the edge.

It was hell.

And her cryptic nonsense wasn't helping. Nor did the sudden acceleration as the platform ascended, his stomach lurching.

They must have been going pretty high before they finally hit the top, and another door opened, this one into a broad hallway with conduits flanking the sides, converging on the wall at the end. Each conduit pulsed with a brilliant energy, and another iris door at the end was lit with a red halo, giving Randall more than a few ominous vibes.

The woman stepped forth casually, and Randall staggered after, his contained erection making things more than a little inconvenient.

He tried to keep his hands away from his shaft, since it was pointless, and he was trying to cling to

some

dignity. He felt like would've preferred being beaten to this.

They approached the door, and it opened.

On the other side was a large, brightly lit room; its sides were angled inwards towards the back, and the wall behind them looked curved, and with a protruding part-cylinder of enormous gunmetal-grey machinery pulsing with red and blue crackling light between the segments of its shell, Randall got the distinct impression the room was a portion of a larger circular structure... perhaps near the peak of the inner spire.

Cylinders rose out of the floor on either side, spaced equidistantly to one another, and some seemed to crackle with an unfathomable energy... or at least, a great deal of electrified plasma.

Others had conduits gently pulsing energy into them, and they looked a little different. Something about them unnerved him.

Cables and cords ran across the walls and the floor, but a clear path was kept devoid of clutter, leading all the way to the back of the chamber, the floor raised up a few steps towards the section of machinery.

A low, constant thrum filled Randall's ears, and the air was alive with energy, prickling his skin and making the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stand on end.

The woman led him along the path, several of those flying machines creeping by the edges of the room, watching.

He found it rather easy to ignore them when his dick was burning with frustrating stimulation.

Up the several steps to the raised floor, and they stood before the section of machinery.

There, a plate on the front slid away, and a glass casket slid forth. The canopy split open, and the curved glass sheets slid into recesses on either side... revealing the form of a bald man, his arms and legs embedded in the metal, stuck in ports that seemed to glow a soft blue light. Cables and tubes were sticking into him all over like IV drips. His junk was swallowed by a bulky tube, and flat armatures with pads rested over his nipples.

His skin was pale, and it looked like he had been in there for some time. He wasn't emaciated, but he seemed a little skinny all the same.

And yet, despite that, he did not seem unhealthy... or all that bothered to be hooked up, for that matter, regarding Randall with a cool, even slightly amused curiosity. His eyes were bright, their blue hues seemingly alive with thought and consideration. He was in his early forties, a few wrinkles here and there on his bald head, and possessing only a hint of stubble.

Metal brackets hung over his ear, and there was a similar brace pressed to his forehead, but something about the way he looked at Randall made it seem to them that he was not in some brainwashed trance.

"So, Randall Koch, is it?" the man spoke.

There was no point in playing dumb.

"Y-Yes," Randall groaned out, still subject to the torment of that edging cage.

The man in the machine noticed, and glanced at the woman.

"Yvonne, I think it would better serve us if he could think a bit more clearly," he said to her.

"Very well," she answered, and looked to Randall. She made a motion with her hand... and the stimulation around his cock ceased.

His immediate reaction was to inwardly lament this change; he was held at the edge for so long, and now he wasn't getting a chance to release.

After that initial disappointment, thankfulness prevailed, glad to finally have a somewhat clear head, even if the blueballs hurt.

"That's better," the man said, turning his attention back to Randall. "I suspect you have many questions."

"Don't patronise me... who the fuck are you?" Randall demanded.

The man didn't seem bothered at all by Randall's impolite tone.

"Ah, yes. Introductions are in order. I am Doctor Marcus Banks, former director of the LEYLINE Project. Of course, you know

that

. You accessed my files, after all."

There was a flurry of emotions and thoughts in Randall's head; he remembered those journal entries. He remembered the early clues about the machine presence on the planet, the mentions of mysterious 'benefactors', the nature of what they were trying to do... and of course, that rambling final entry of a man gone mad.

But what really got Randall, was the implication that the machines knew those files had been accessed; that lab was never going to be a safe haven...

They probably knew he and his friends were there the moment they stepped through the doors.

Nevertheless, it was insane that people from the lab were still alive, all these years later. And seemingly doing the bidding of the machines.

Randall turned his head downward, looking left and right at the floor in disbelief.

"You're... still alive?" he muttered.

"We all are," Marcus responded. "Machines our new benefactors may be, but they have an... aversion, shall we say, to death. Inflicting it especially so. Especially after meeting us."

"Meeting you?! They're kidnapping and raping people, you crazy bastard!"

"In your eyes, yes. But we are the trespassers on this world, and they are not human. They have their own ways of dealing with these things. Besides... they have need of us."

Randall gave Marcus a quizzical look.

"Need us? For what?"

Marcus smirked, as if waiting for this moment.

"You see, the other purpose of the LEYLINE Project, was to see if a powerful, but simple AI could be developed, one that could 'inhabit' the energy field of a planet, using it as a form of constantly moving data storage. Yes, it'd need to have ground-based systems to act as an 'anchor', but it'd otherwise be far less susceptible to attack. We never did make much progress on that front, but everything else was moving slowly but smoothly."

Marcus paused for a moment, tensing up, and then relaxing, a satisfied sigh leaving him. It didn't seem like orgasm.

"That hits the spot," he said. "Ah, yes. As I was saying... you see, these Machines... they too were looking at something similar. By almost pure coincidence, but this planet's unusual magnetic field, gravity, and the curious mineral formations abundant on the planet helped nudge them towards the same theories. However, it wasn't until our arrival that they started to make strides. We made progress where they couldn't. And then... they discovered the wonders of bodily pleasures. When they managed to parse what it felt like, updated their processors to experience it... they craved it like nothing else."

Marcus laughed a little manically.

"Of course, it's not just pleasures of the flesh they were after; whilst we were trying to find a way to create a literal 'cloud'-based server for an AI, along with communications and wireless energy transfer systems, they studied us for the progress we made where they had not. And they came to a novel conclusion; with our minds acting as supporting computational nodes, along with an ability to surprisingly adapt to these connections with the proper neural interfaces, they hoped to advance the research even further. And more than anything, having the power of imagination in a way they don't has proven to be quite a boon in this process, for reasons even I cannot quite understand well enough to explain sufficiently. Of course, this process is also quite... taxing. And they need enough of us to be able to conduct these experiments frequently, without 'burning us out', as it were. We lend our minds, and they show us a new future for us."

"A new future?! As slaves?! Just look at you, man! Don't you see yourself?! Strapped into that goddamn whatever-the-fuck-it-is machine?! Don't you realise what they're doing to you?!"

Randall looked at Marcus with a desperate expression, eyes wide and manic.

Marcus simply grinned and chuckled like Randall was a fool.

"Oh, you are mistaken, my friend; this was my idea."

Randall went still and cold.

"... what?"

"You see, I saw what they wanted. I saw their goals, and as a scientist, I had to assist! It is my research as much as theirs. But being... 'liberated', wasn't enough. I would assist with other study, whilst I was 'resting', but that just wasn't enough. So I came up with this novel idea, with their assistance. In this machine, I can mesh with the systems of the City, interface with them in a way that eases the strain on my mind. It also feeds my body, deals with its needs, and lets me focus on the research at hand. I chose this, Randall. I am a better scientist for it. And I still have arms and legs in here, I can go free, if I want... but I've rather gotten used to this. It offers me an entirely different sort of freedom."

Randall stared at the smiling scientist with a look of complete incredulity; the man had gone insane.

"And what about us?" he asked warily.

"A new society awaits you and your friends. The chances of you returning home are slim. The planet's gravity may be varied within sane degrees, but the debris field orbiting the planet was accelerated to exceptionally hazardous levels some time ago. Of course, as long as that transmission still repeats, people will likely continue to come, though it may be time to kill it; you found your way here, and the chances are others will follow. They will join us too in bliss, comfort, and new purpose, but the machines have no desire to start a war they cannot win. Here, though... we will become something new. Humans and machines together as partners, pushing the boundaries of science and pleasure. If nothing else... I fear our former benefactors would not like people coming back with evidence of their actions. Or these Machines. Really, it is better you remain here."

Randall was starting to shake in a mixture of rage and distress.

"You can't be serious... you can't hold us here! This is madness! You're all fucking crazy!" he shouted.

"Perhaps... but you'll understand in time. It is, after all... a brave new world."

Marcus laughed, and then glanced to Yvonne.

"Go ahead. He's yours. I have research to attend to."

Yvonne nodded, and gestured with her hand... and the device around Randall's dick spurred to life again, making him groan and his knees almost buckle.

"Have fun, you two~" Marcus teased as the glass panels for his 'casket' slid back into place, and he was drawn back into the machine.

"Oh, I shall~" Yvonne answered, sounding much more... devious now, that flat impassiveness seemingly fading.

She stood over Randall and pursed her lips in teasing appreciation, a wicked, playful chuckle escaping her.

"You and your comrades will be most welcome here, once you learn to accept us~" she assured.

"Go to hell," Randall cursed, but his voice didn't sound so fierce, wavering from that stimulation; his cock was already hard again, at full mast and snugly contained in that treacherous device, thrumming vibrations, electrical pulses and direct nerve stimuli quickly pushing him to that edge.

Between everything else, he lacked the strength to fight back, especially when Yvonne pushed him down to the metal floor, lukewarm but tingling with power contained in the panels beneath.

There was a hunger in her eyes, a domineering expression on her lips, and it terrified Randall; unlike Moira, who did not seem entirely herself, Yvonne was in control of her faculties... and knew exactly what she wanted as she straddled his hips.

Her hands moved to his bare chest, and slowly trailed those fingertips to his shoulders, up his arms, until finally pinning his wrists down to the floor.

He struggled, but it was weak and useless; Yvonne was stronger than she looked, and he just didn't have the energy.

A quick glance between her thighs, and he saw how wet she was. It was obscene how quickly she grew aroused.

"I've been looking forward to this~" she crooned, teasing his covered tip with her pussy lips, sensually gyrating her hips.