Strange Queens

The chamber closed and immediately the interior contracted, moulding to her body perfectly. The strange rubbery material suckered onto her skin and perfectly recreated every ripple, bump and line. Nothing was spared; she felt the stuff pressing under her breasts and rolling into her pussy, expanding to a tight, filling but just comfortable size like an inflatable penis inside her. It was incredibly strange but she felt little panic; the sensation of every, single, minute millimetre of skin pressed gently but firmly into by the artificial stuff seemed to quell her rapidly beating heart.

With Dr. Roberts watching over, her only free body part her head and neck, she watched the doctor press a few more buttons. It was then that Chelsea suddenly realised she had indeed made a grave error. As two halves of a round piece of chamber swung together and slowly clamped around her head, locking into place, she heard the doctor laughing outside and knew at that moment that she had made the wrong choice. Then, the strange tingly material suckered itself onto her face and she was no more.

Outside, the doctor watched the top ring closely, peering at the female's head as the form grew over her and finally met itself on her crown. Within moments she was encased totally in the stuff. Switching a few more controls the entire case, containing one human female, thrummed and glowed, tightly pressing together. Then, with a hiss, it stopped. With the sound of hydraulics, the two parts of the human trap unclamped and swung away to reveal the girl, Chelsea, perfectly petrified, her entire body replicated exactly, but jet black like a chocolate mould. The doctor leaned in and ran a finger over the shiny hard surface that was stomach, dipped it into the rock hard hole that was vagina, and fondled the frozen hair and skin that was Chelsea. It lay there like a stone sculpture of the girl, the statue of black was the solidified, petrified body of the girl, looking for all the world like a realistic version of Han Solo in his frozen form.

With some clicks and a robotic female voice announcing "ready", a small conical room beside the death bed hissed and billowing steam fell from it like that from dry ice. Two doors split and a blue light emanated from the place. After several seconds, a girl stepped from the chamber. Naked, with soft prickling skin and firm little nipples, Chelsea took her first steps into the world.

She looked at the Doctor. She smiled. The doctor looked back. And grinned. And then chuckled. And then began to laugh.

The doctor looked back to the mummified girl on the bed. Chelsea came to look. Seeming to sense this was important to her, she reached out to feel it. She ran a hand over the chest, stomach, crotch and legs of the petrified remains, mirroring the exact motion on her own body.

Then she turned to the Doctor and spoke.

'I am ready.

Mistress.'

Jordan stepped out of the shower and ran her fingers through her hair. She reached for the rail and grabbed her towel, wrapping it around her chest and tucking the knot in her bosom. She grabbed her brush and began to pull out the knots in her long dark hair.

Jordan loved showers. The time to relax, clean herself off and start afresh always helped her clear her mind and prepare for the next 24 hours Before she could begin the whole routine again.

It was as she leaned into the mirror, analysing her skin, searching for any blemishes or pimples and running her hand over her face that she heard a sound. Stopping and glancing to the door she listened out for a moment... But heard nothing. Shrugging and almost losing her towel in the process she bent slightly to catch it as it fell from her body, trying to tuck it back round behind her.

The bathroom door slammed open and a strong set of black-clad arms clamped hard around her chest. She was forcibly pulled back off her feet and dragged kicking out the door. Her towel, caught dangling from one boob under the strong grip of her assailant dragged behind her as she struggled. The attacker never let up and within seconds she was out her front door. There she was forced to the ground under the immense weight of the man or woman she was held by, her butt pressed into the ground and her legs folded before her uselessly as she was forced down. Her head was held down, her back hunched under the weight leaning on her. She saw black clad feet stepping forward, then they turned to knees, and a small spray bottle appeared. She flinched as she was sprayed in the face from the tiny bottle, and immediately was overwhelmed by a wave of drowsy dizziness. Her head spun and she felt her mind swinging back and forth away from her body into an ever growing pool of blackness like a feather on the wind, the towel floating after her, her body fading into tingly white light that evaporated into the warm safe black world she was sinking into.

Then she slept.

Jordan woke up relatively fast. For a moment she got a terrible pang of fear that she had fallen over in the bathroom and was lying there naked on the cold wet tile with some terrible injury. But as she came to she realised she had to be somewhere much different. Whatever she was laying on, it was shaped perfectly to her body. Some sort of soft latex-leathery stuff cradled her. For a moment she wondered if hospitals had adopted that sort of memory foam stuff in their bedding, but she was sure that was near impossible. As her mind returned to normal function she cracked her eyes open just as the whole bed she was on shook. The sound of hydraulics and mechanics moving stirred her and she strained her eyes in the light to see some blurry form swinging down above her. She made to move but before she could some unfelt weight pressed down above her. Though not being touched or held down she felt such a huge pressure on her that made movement, especially in her subdued, still drowsy form, was impossible.

'Welcome to the land of the living, my beautiful darling.' A voice above her purred. Jordan strained further and took in the blurry form of a figure standing by the side of the bed. She took in a metal shape directly above her body and realised she was in some sort of chamber, not entirely unlike fake tanning beds but more cylindrical. She cracked her mouth open and tried to speak, only managing a croak through her dry mouth. She sucked up some saliva and did her best to wet her lips. 'Who are you? And where am I?'

'Hush dear, don't stress yourself. I will explain everything soon.' The woman said, for she was indeed a woman, and one with hints of an accent, though which one Jordan was at a loss to know. Suddenly, quite shockingly, Jordan felt the entire contraption she was in tighten around her body. The material she was on suddenly came to life, clamping tightly around her, pressing into her skin, forming closely to her body. She felt every single inch of herself touched by the stuff, felt it expanding with an almost shocking speed and sensation into her holes down below. She gasped, panic rising in her as she felt herself entirely pinned and motionless, not even able to tense a muscle. Only her neck and head remained free.

'What... Are you... Doing to me?' She said horsely, panic gripping her mind but unable to move or even pant. She felt scared, felt fear and pain and disgust through the panic rising up her throat at the crude violation of her body. Again, she was silenced.

'Oh do hush dear, i'm only calibrating the device to your body makeup and structure. Your time is coming, but not just yet.' She said with an evil grin as she patted the human sized chamber.

With little else to do Jordan simply put her head back and waited, trying to fight the rising fear climbing up her spine like a huge spider up a pipe. She swallowed, swallowing the bile in her throat. She tested her body but something as simple as tensing a finger was impossible, even her stomach muscles were near immovable. Her chest felt compacted and breathing hard.

Then, with a loud hiss, she felt the pressure instantly dissipate , the weird stuff pressed into her skin relaxing immediately. With a whirr the lid of the bed began to rise, peeling the black stuff off her skin like a sticker off a new purchase. It came away sharply, ripping off her like a sticker off a box or a bandaid off a wound, hanging from the case loosely, sliding out of her crotch and leaving a surprisingly accurate moulded image of her body in it's limp form. It looked for all the world like a human-sized and shaped baloon that had deflated and hung there. She watched it rise, flinching as the stuff tore away from her and immediately feeling dizziness as the blood rushed back to her body. She wanted to move but even in her alien environment she couldn't, didn't have the strength or willpower to force herself up and over the edge of the coffin-like half-circle of chamber she still remained in.

'Someone will be in shortly to take you to your room, be sure to eat up and get plenty of water and exercise often before your big moment.' The woman said, then turned and strode out the door. It hissed open and closed for her.

Jordan slowly raised her arms and massaged each wrist, feeling slight aches in most of her muscles. She had a few minutes to herself and was in the process of rubbing her shins, pressing her knuckles into the muscles there when the door hissed open again and a naked girl stepped in.

'I will be taking you to your quarters.' She spoke simply. The rather striking blonde strode over to Jordan and instinctively the scared and violated girl shrunk away, as much as she could in the shapely confines of the bed she was in. The blonde slowed, holding her hands before her. 'Shh, shh, it's alright. I won't hurt you, baby, shhh...' She spoke softly. The girl, hardly older than Jordan herself, seemed to be showing uncalled for compassion and even, if Jordan could bring herself to think such a thing, love, for her. She inched closer, holding her arms outward, almost as if proffering them in the form of a...

... The blonde leaned over Jordan's shaking form and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in kindly, actually... Hugging her. She seemed to realistic and genuine to her that Jordan, in her frazzled and scared mindset, started to hug her back, appreciating the open display of friendship and care. The blonde girl didn't seem to mind at all about their nudity, not even reacting when her breasts draped upon Jordan's and not seeming to notice how erect her nipples were when she pulled away. Jordan, totally embarrassed, wanted to hide them, but something made her stop. Perhaps it was that the other girl gave no sign there was any reason to be embarrassed, or perhaps she just didn't have the power to care just now.

'I'm Chelsea. Let me help you out of there, Sis.' She said, offering her hand to her. Jordan took it and with her help she climbed unsteadily out of the contraption, her cold bare feet clapping softly on the solid surface of the floor.

'Well done!' Chelsea exclaimed. 'Come on, let's get you to your room! Best news you're going to hear all day... It's heated!' She said like any typical excitable teenage girl. Jordan followed her as she strode towards the door, her fine bare ass swinging behind her. Jordan couldn't help but admire the girl's natural physical beauty and wish she had an ass like that, running a hand kinda self-consciously over her own bum as she moved to catch up. She drew up behind the tall blonde out in the hallway, striding purposefully forward, occasionally shaking her head slightly to move her hair out of her face. 'Hey... Where am I? Why am I here?' Jordan asked, doing a little sprint to catch up. 'And do we like, get any clothes?'

The blonde slowed, but kept her pace. Rather than answering, she said, 'I think you'll really like your place, there's everything you'll want, computers, treadmills, weights, food, an amazing bed! Everything's given to us!' She giggled.

'Wait... Us?' Jordan said, catching the slip. Again the blonde seemed to halt, only continuing to stride forward. Jordan grasped her arm, spinning her around to face her. Meaning to confront the blonde, she was caught by the girl's back hand as it crashed into her cheek as though the act of spinning the girl by her arm caused the slap. She fell, not so much from the force of the hit but from the shock. Immediately the blonde reacted, holding her hands to her mouth, upset and sorry for the hit. She crouched down and got on her knees, reaching for the stricken girl cowering against the wall, desperate to help.

Jordan shied away but eventually she could go no further against the wall and ever so gently the blonde girl placed her hands softly on her head, and as she did so Jordan tentatively let her look at the damage. Feeling a lot like a child with her mother, Jordan let her hands fall from her face and the blonde very lightly touched the cheek with her fingers. Her soft skin tingled at the touch, her heart jumping at the intimacy. Ever so slightly the blonde, Chelsea, analysed the area, leaning close to see if she had done any real damage. Then, shockingly, she closed her eyes and kissed the cheek. The soft lips on her cheek sent Jordan's still flustered mind into turmoil as her skin prickled all over. She felt herself melting slightly into the kiss, her troubles, solved or unsolved, her concerns and fears just washing off her and leaving her naked in a corridor with a beautiful girl naked before her. She turned her head and their lips met. Sparks flew at the contact, endlessly soft lips massaging and locking with equally as soft and sensual lips. Jordan's thoughts melted with the rest of her and she found only attraction to the girl before her filled her mind. Her hand lingered at the girl's side, her fingers ever so lightly resting on her skin, before she put her hand on her side properly, her other hand mirroring it, the blonde girl's fingers trailing circles on her stomach as her other hand slid down from her head, over her shoulder and over the flat of her breast. As the fingers encircled the nipple Jordan snapped together and pushed away, the kiss stopping with a smack. She turned away, panting, her mind once more a battlefield of emotions as Chelsea behind her simply sat back, confused but not phased by the turn of events.

After a moment, she quietly placed a hand on her charge's shoulder but it was shaken off. 'C'mon... Let's go to the room.' She said. She held out a hand for Jordan but she got up herself and they walked more or less in silence, Jordan clasping her hands on each shoulder, eyes downcast as she struggled with herself inside. Chelsea said no more, simply fingering her lips occasionally and thrumming inside with anticipation. After a few minutes they reached a metal door with three lights set in a metal plate beside it. Looking like an elevator, Chelsea swung her wrist before the pad of lights and the centre blue one lit up. The doors hissed open and inside Jordan beheld a large room with wide floor to ceiling window at the far end. At least four huge beds were against the wall on the right at even intervals while against the left behind a corner was a long line of gym equipment, and next to that, a row of computer terminals. As Jordan stepped into the room she saw that the room to her left was the bathroom, a big open tiled affair with three showers, one in each corner, and a toilet, bath and sink next to them. She stepped in and looked around the warm coloured room, holding her arm with her hand like a shy teenage girl. Behind her Chelsea watched, only entering once Jordan was beyond the thin entranceway. She moved past the girl and began to untuck the sheets on the closest bed before throwing herself down on it.

'So? Whaddaya think, huh?' She asked, smiling at the dark haired newcomer. Jordan frowned.

'Is this... Your room?' She asked. Perhaps her room was a smaller affair, which made sense. She was new here... She didn't expect a prisoner, for, what else was she, to be given such lush living quarters.

'No, silly! This is our room!' Chelsea told her. She smiled again and patted the sheets beside her, seeming to gesture for Jordan to join her. Jordan instead turned to see the doorway, which sure enough was closed. She went to it and examined it, but nothing seemed to make it open. There was a small circular sheet of polished metal by the door similar to that outside with the lights in it, but this one had no such protrusions. She waved her arms before it but nothing happened. She was locked in, and the only key was the giggling blonde girl on the bed.

She was indeed a prisoner.

With a determinedness to her movements she turned and walked briskly away from the door, passing the bed with the grinning Chelsea watching her, down the corridor between equipment and beds till she reached the last one nearest the window and furthest from Chelsea. She looked at it for a while before sitting on the edge.

Chelsea watched the girl with fascination. A flame burned brightly between her legs and her mind swam with the arousal her slave would bring her, but she ignored it, satisfied it would be fed eventually. She knew the seed was already well planted, and soon enough she would be hers. She flicked her hair and pulled out a brush from the drawer by her bed, sitting up and running it through her golden mane as she watched the mysterious Jordan intently. For her part Jordan sat there, hunched and alone, head in her hands as she despaired.

She looked up suddenly at a sound and saw a glass of water on the bedside table. Looking at it for a moment, she took it up and drank some. It was clear and fresh, surprisingly good. She drained the rest, realising how dehydrated she was.

While definitely not a fat girl, Jordan was well built, with the kind of body that could be misconceived as slightly chubby but was almost always stunning, perfectly shaped and curvaceous to the height of sexiness. She worked out occasionally to keep herself fit and was quietly strong without looking it. All in all Jordan was comfortable in herself, with fine round breasts with cute, sexy pink little nipples and a flat but sturdy stomach and arms and legs that were neither flabby nor thin. She was fairly tall for the average young lady, around 5'8", about half a head shorter than Chelsea. With medium length dark brown hair and glowing blue eyes that shone of endless oceans of icy blue crystals she was endlessly beautiful, her face perfect and clean, her soft skin naturally flawless, her looks cute, sexy and infallible.

At the moment, though, she was feeling far from beautiful. She felt unsafe, far from her home with no idea where, why or how she was here, let alone how she was supposed to get home or how she was even supposed to get out and even less sure about what had been done to her during it all. She was scared, the only thing she had that was hers being her body, and she wasn't even totally sure she could trust that yet.

Jordan had always been a kind and happy girl but never had her heart done any good for her. She fell in love too easily with people and would often beat herself up and leave herself so low for so long when she was growing up that she often literally forgot how to laugh. She found herself constantly battling with the stress of loving or lusting over someone that when the opportunity came to be with one, she would invariably do something to ruin it or make herself think that she had, or put herself down and blame herself even if she didn't. Such was it that Jordan was a fragile soul. Kind, always putting everyone else first, but almost always upset. At the same time, she was never able to give up or believe there was no hope or chance. She was always looking for love, even if she didn't realise it.

As she was mulling over her sorrows, her situation bringing back old memories, she felt her sadness, her fear, her vulnerability and loneliness all run together in one big pool of sadness and she began to cry. She thought of the people she loved and how she wished she could have been back at school where her only concern was assignments and the cute boy she was fawning over. She thought of Michael and his shy sexiness, and she dropped an arm instinctively to her lap in shyness as she had done so many times in classes. She missed the one class she had with him when she would stare at him, wishing so hard that someone would say something to make him smile, and as she stared, her legs tingling, she'd look down and imagine him hard for her below the desk. On days she felt really confident, she'd squeeze her legs together and force her pencil into her skirt, pressing the eraser into herself as much as she could. Once or twice, she was even brave enough to do it across from him, and she didn't cross her legs then. When she was feeling good the classes with him lit a fire inside her that burned stronger than a thousand suns. He made her want to tear her shirt off and smother herself on him right here on the tables with everyone watching. When it was bad, she would think of all the things she'd done in front of him and she'd get shy and sad, and try to quell her aching, longing little heart with empty reassurances.