This work is a sequel to one of my stories, The Machine. Read that for more context, though this should stand alone.
I wake up, on my knees. I'm immobilised, my ankles cuffed, hands bound behind my back. I'm in some sort of large bedroom, except this isn't a normal bedroom. It's packed with devices and sexual objects, complex restraints and drawers packed with all sorts. I try not to think too much about them, nor about the restraints already occupied. The woman dangling from a hook, or the woman pressed up against a wall, shackled into an X position and gagged whilst a machine relentlessly fucks her, or the man standing to attention with his hands chained together over his head, his cock concealed. I try to ignore them. Or that they all wear collars, and nothing else.
I can't escape, I know that. My binds are too strong. I also know this is a simulation, all fake, to train me. So escape is impossible, at best I just wake up in my pod and get put back in.
But I also don't feel right. I'm starving, impossibly so, as if I haven't had a single bite to eat in weeks. I'm fresh awake, my mind painfully clear. My tongue feels strange, and I quickly determine it's been pierced, but also that other changes have happened. My spine has a subtle coolness to it that's strange, and I realise my sensitivity across my entire body has improved. Not that I appreciate being able to really feel every bit of texture in the metal band around my wrists, or my ankles. My breasts have also grown, but looking down I can see my tattoo remains. P13-F-49999. A few hours ago I was Vanessa, off to my new life, now I am a stupid stupid slave, tricked into this, my existence reduced to a code.
There are more piercings I can feel across me. My nose, my ears, my breasts... I have been redesigned according to my new owner's will, and there isn't a thing I can do about it. My brown hair is a half shave, left shaved, right long and luscious, stretching to my breasts.
Mindy, my sister, is to my left side, a few feet away. By looking at her nude and bound form, I can work out more about my predicament. She is half shaved, though the sides are swapped. Her spine is clearly metallic, lights embedded that softly twinkle and glow in a variety of colours.
"Mindy? Mindy, wake up, please."
"Ven?" Mindy murmured, stirring. She quickly figures out she's shackled, and tries to free herself, but the restraints are just as secure on her. "Ven, what's happening?"
She looks at me, and her face fills with fear. It's terrifying to see your sister and know she just reflects your exact predicament, just as helpless as you. She has a ring through her nose now, studs on her face where I can feel my own. We are both trapped and helpless. We are both remade as our owner demands.
"I don't know. I just was in that pod, and-"
"It said something about training. I guess this is some sort of simulation, right?"
"Yeah. I don't know how to get out. Are you starving too?"
"Yeah. You have it too? It can't be real, right? We were just in our pods... what if something broke, and we're going to starve to death?"
"No, no, I'm sure it'll be okay. They wouldn't let that happen to us."
Because they need us as slaves, not as dead bodies
, I think to myself.
I look around the room again, trying to put the image of my enslaved sister out of my mind. The other occupants all wear collars, unlike us, which is strange. They are mostly chained up, or hooked, or otherwise restrained, with the exception being 2 men, 2 women, stood at attention. All of those wear sharp uniforms, looking like expensive hotel staff. Their collars are subtler, and I realise these are effectively maids and servants, for non-sexual needs. But they still have collars.
It finally hits me just what a position I am in. Me and my sister are slaves, trapped here at our owner's whim. We're going to be tortured, brainwashed, abused, until we are just like these people: silent and utterly obedient. I began to cry, softly, so Mindy won't notice.
We kneel in silence, nothing else to say, tears streaking my face, for what must have been ten minutes or so. Then the door opens, and our owner enters.
He is a tall man, perhaps approaching 7 foot, with blazing violet eyes, dressed in expensive flowing robes. Tightly managed brown hair, perfectly sculpted features, as if this man was the embodiment of an Old Earth god that had descended. It was as if the computer has reached inside my head and created the perfect man for me. I hazily consider the possibility things have gone the other way around.
Behind him, I could see a dozen female slaves, a far more eye catching variety of dress. Some wear large posture collars, locking their heads in place as they march with trays suspended from their harness below their breasts. Others wear slimmer gem-studded collars and dresses, elaborate and beautiful yet highly revealing ones. One, a tanned girl with twin bright blue braids, is entirely nude except for her collar and thigh high blue leggings, her braids draped across her tattooed breasts. I felt a slight twinge throught my body as I stare at her, before I clamp down on those feelings. I can't let myself get horny at the thought of being enslaved like that.
Once inside the room, they disperse to a semicircle around the man. They stand perfectly still and silent, and I know I am staring at my future, and Mindy's future.
"Well, hello to my newest pair of slaves."The man speaks, walking up close to me.
"Please, sir. Let us go. We won't do anything." I speak first, my eyes stained with tears. I know it won't work, this simulation wouldn't allow me to talk my way out. But I need to feel as if I'd tried. I can't just surrender to slavery.
"Please sir." Mindy added, throwing her own litany of begged demands.
"I don't want to serve you, I just want to go home, I want my sister to be okay, just please le-" Agony cuts me off, as I scream in pain. Mindy is screaming too, as my body courses with unimaginable pain. Every inch is agonising fire, worse than the torment the factory has already inflicted. Then it stops, and I'm left to gasp for air.
"That, slaves, is the punishment I can grant you. I can punish you both, or individually, as long as I like. Disobey me, and I will not hesitate to punish you." My owner nods towards one of the waiting slaves, whose tray has a whip resting atop it. "Of course, I have other means of inflicting pain, and we will explore them as part of your training. Slaves learn to appreciate pain just as much as pleasure."
"Speaking of, I can also grant you pleasure. As I wish, the vibrator you both rest on can be activated. Trust me, as we keep going, you will be more and more willing to receive it. I will allow you such pleasure if I feel you have behaved above and beyond simple obedience. And no, unlike the punishment, I will not let you sample it first."
He paces over to one trayslave, taking a drink from her tray and downing it.
