Chapter 17: Togetherness
Maya was bored and killing time while Sue watched with contempt from the rack. For Sue, the whole boiler room had become a cyclical time bubble of constant fucking. She had no concept of whether she had been racked and "serviced" by the Busy Beaver robot for an hour or 5 hours since she could not see the countdown clock anymore; Maya had turned it sideways to face the console where she sat catching up on e-mail, texting and even playing video games on her tablet computer and smartphone to pass the time.
Sue could only wonder what her own inbox was like and had no idea what happened to her purse and phone. Were they preventing her from getting to such devices for some reason? Actually, she didn't really care and was glad to be free of technology for now. With everything that had happened in the last several days, being helpless and controlled was a relief at the moment. She needed some time to think and get her head together.
If not for the nipple clamps and the damn bells dangling from them, Sue might even have been able to enjoy her predicament. Instead, every jingle reminded her of inability to remove the painful clips. It was probably her imagination, but it seemed as if they were getting tighter and heavier over time.
Maya was taking pictures on her phone again. "You're expression is priceless. Poor little rabbit, I know the nipple clips are really unpleasant. They're damn hard to get off too. The clips used to hold trim on a car apparently. Dr. Englevol's notes on the machine say they're safe for a while yet but that the machine doesn't have a removal feature for them. We found out the hard way with Cindy. I guess it only assembled and didn't disassemble, but don't worry I have a brand new set of wire cutters for later, only used once. When he gets back, Bill can squeeze them hard enough to cut the clips off."
Maya didn't seem to notice that Sue wasn't really paying attention to her. Sue was light-headed and had a queasy stomach. An unusual energy was coursing through her body making her insides warm--like she had just drunk an extra large coffee on a cold day. It was also hard for her to concentrate. Her mind was racing, and she was completely wired. All of it seemed fueled by hormones and lust. Sue wasn't worried, though, since she knew what it was. The intensity of sensation and consuming lust could be nothing else; the effects of
flowering
and
alignment
were increasing.
The pain in her nipples grew more distant as her attention returned to following every little movement of the black rubber cock as it slowly and methodically probed in and out. After a while, the pattern changed again, and she was drawn to the texture of the small rubber knobs twiddling her labia as the cock was slowly thrusting in and out. The effect caused her to be keenly aware of every millimeter of the shaft and the mechanical exploration to which she was subjected.
The robot seemed to move the little clit stimulator in and out independently of the cock next to it. She couldn't really see down there to figure it out. She just knew that sometimes the cock would be deep inside yet she would still not feel the stimulator. Most of the time, the stimulator made just a whisper of contact--no doubt a planned and calibrated amount of contact. The vibration of the cock was dialed back as well as if to be more of a tease. Even though the robot was running slow and steady, her sexual frustration level was building with no end in sight. Also, no doubt, a carefully considered effect.
The squid had taught her plenty about frustration. The robot's attempts to tease her seemed almost tame by comparison. She knew how the game was played. She was intended to dwell and obsess over when (or if) she might eventually be allowed to come again so that a pattern of build up, need, desire, and delayed gratification would fuel a crescendo of excitement before she was driven to an earth-shattering orgasm. Been there, done that. Her body definitely was subject to the technique. Oh, it worked alright. She was looking forward to that programmed orgasm like a crack-whore waiting for her next fix. Mentally, however, she was strangely devoid of emotional involvement. The drama was too contrived to be convincing after what she had already been through. The robot would get around to fucking her in earnest eventually...hopefully it would be soon.
With no end in sight, Sue was in conservation mode. Accepting her helplessness begrudgingly, she stopped her pointless struggling against the straps awhile ago in order to save breath and energy. Struggling to catch her breath with her mouth plugged by the Nuymean gag was its own form of torture, especially with the relentless squeeze of the corset adding more resistance. She knew all too well the physical toll that the constant fight for breath would eventually exact on her after her experience in the sex maiden. She had to remain calm and breathe through her nose. Still, she couldn't help clinching, relaxing and shifting in response to the internal probing.
The probing seemed awkward. The Eager Beaver robot might be a high precision machine, but it was not sensitive to her responses and knew nothing except bits and bytes. Her responses were just anticipated input parameters to the programming done by the good Dr. Englevol. The methodical bastard made sure that among the variety of motions, random sequences and variable timing every millimeter of her vagina was probed and prodded. Nevertheless, Sue began to recognize the patterns even though the information was of little use. She had no means of reacting on her own, immobilized on the rack, but she had cracked the code. Sue waited for one particular move; the only previous pattern in the set which stimulated her to orgasm.
She had that special pattern memorized. The robot cock would start to circle, counter clockwise, a little wider each time. As it circled, the thrusting would move in and out bringing the clit stimulator closer and closer. Soon she would feel it brushing a little harder each time. After 6 circles and 18 thrusts, she would start to feel a stronger touch. By the 18th circle, her clit would be aching for release. The magic would start as the rubbing on the outside paired with the probing on the inside. The cock vibrations would speed up and the thousands of nerve endings bundled in that special little bud of flesh would consume her being. By the 42nd circle, it would start to hurt a bit as she finished orgasming her brains out. The 46th circle was somewhat painful with little pleasure. She didn't get much post-orgasmic sensitivity, but the machine simply kept going either way. She would ride out the overload then could feel more comfortable. After the 52nd circle, the robot would switch to a new program in the random sequence. The problem was that there had to be at least 40 different techniques programmed into the thing. Of all of them, this pattern was the only one which really did it for her. The only sequence of programming that hit the right buttons of her biological machine.
The latest tease was interrupted as the robot unexpectedly pulled the cock out. It coated the rubber thoroughly using the lubing compartment and then slowly spun the knobby rubber rod back towards her without spilling a drop. After a quick scan of the targeting laser, the cock was thrust abruptly back inside, clit stimulator in alignment. Another glob of excess lube was squeezed off the cock as her pussy lips enveloped it, adding to the puddle on the floor beneath her. The whole process took under 4 seconds.
As soon as she was intimately repacked, the robot switched to the next program.
Fuck!
She hated this pattern. The cock started pounding in and out like a piston, fast and hard, probably twice to three times a second. Her belly was shaking from the vibrations and her nipple bells were playing a jolly chorus. If not for the gag, her teeth would be rattling. Back behind the robot arm, the cooling fans were kicking up, and the air compressor came on. All she could do was hold her breath and wait for it to end, a cruel and rough kind of fucking that really set off more alarms than fireworks for her. This program seemed to be an attempt to intimidate her, and she didn't have any use for such drama anymore.
Finally.
The cock stopped, and she exhaled through her nose with a bit of a snort. She practically wheezed as she tried to get her breath back. The robot, however, was already starting the next program, a slow steady pumping. She could really feel the penetration in and out, deep and forceful, knob-by-knob. Each thrust had a brief hold before changing direction. Her body was trying to push her hips back against the thrusting without her conscious direction. Strapped tight, that wasn't happening, but her body kept trying anyway. She realized she should stop the compulsive attempt at movement to save energy, but she didn't want to. The struggles were turning out to feel good.
Sue was starting to enjoy the way being bound increased the intensity of sensation, helpless to escape the cock inside her, but liberated from choice and action. From a rational point of view, the futile struggling should just be a negative feeling of frustration and pointlessness. From a physical point of view, aroused as she was, the struggling ignited Sue's dysfunctional lust like jet fuel. She had gone full circle from curious to kinky without even trying. How had it happened so fast? Do you learn to have a fetish or are you born with it? Regardless, she was starting to love bondage. She tested the straps, and they felt...comforting.
Sue had not climaxed during the last dozen or so different programs, but the current program was definitely getting to her. Her body was more than ready and letting her know. Again a beep and the cock was quickly gone, back to the lubing compartment, leaving her pussy dripping and abandoned.
Could this thing be any more annoying?
She waited as the arm returned to hover below her slit.
