For mature audiences only. Yo, seriously. If you're under 18, get outta here.
All sex-engaging characters are over the age of 18. Copyright © 2020 by V. Volt. All rights reserved. Don't steal my shit, kill my dog: or I will come after you.
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THE SEAHORSE
Gregorian Calendar: A.D. 1981. Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.
I don't know how long I've been strapped in the cage, this time. Dr. Asshole said I've earned myself a month in here. But he lies. It could have been longer. But then again...
I know. I should have counted my feedings. Four cups of liquid food, every twenty-four hours. They learned their lesson not to trust me with eating, a long time ago. I'll drink you all, bastards!
It's better now, but I'm still always hungry. I can't even remember the time when I wasn't. I've lived so long, but here is a whole era onto itself.
7692,
7693, not knowing the hour, day, year
7694, slowly drives to madness
7695, every breath, stolen.
7696, every lungful, whipped.
7697, every cry, forced.
7698, trapped.
7699, in a limbo of endless tedium.
76...99, for a moment or a millennium.
7...6
Oh, fuck!
1,
If I only knew when this will be over.
The first time in the cage, all I did was struggle and scream. I had nothing else to do. For days, I would do it without stopping, until my voice and skin disintegrated. And then, I did it raw. But that has long been conditioned out of me.
Why didn't I keep track of my feedings, khem? I've lost the habit to think strategically. They tortured it out of me.
At some point I became institutionalized, I fear. A passive observer of my surroundings and body. The hunger had a lot to do with it. Too tired to fight them, when I was so weak. I couldn't even raise a limb, let alone resist. Simply tethered to life by my ka's cruelty. My captors think they finally broke me. Of course, they would have preferred to keep me starving and weak, but now that I'm with 'child', they aren't willing to take any risks. My strength is returning. If I wasn't immobilized, I could jump and run again...
I had that dream again.
I'm attaching the sling. Running my fingers through the arrows. Selecting my champion, from the quiver strapped at my hips, ever so gently, so as to not scare the prey. Lining the nock with the center of the bowstring. Inhale. Feel it. I slide my hand into the grip and lift my arms towards the sacrifice. Stretching the bow enough that if I pull any further - it will break.
A perfect balance of forces.
A delicious push and pull.
A phallus and a womb.
I anchor the arrow with my finger, touching jaw, until the string kisses my lips as a lover. I aim at my target. Time slows. Not an expression for me. I can live a lifetime inside that moment of anticipation... of potential. Total control of life and death. It stirs my force. Exhale. Release the projectile, guided by my power, so it's always true. Time rebounds, snapping back, like a rubber band around me. The arrow hits the mark. Body returning to nun, releasing its soul to be reborn. The cycle of creation and destruction recharged. I accept your offering... beautiful obliteration.
Dreams become reality, when reality is a nightmare.
Without even noticing, as I think of hunting for the umptieth time, my power blooms around me.
Hello, old friend!
I've missed you so. It has been forever since I was fed enough to wake you. The straps groan, deforming outwards, pushed open by my invisible associate. An alarm blares from the speakers, somewhere high above me. Fencing swords stab my sensitive ears. The annoying noise is enough to snap me out of my destructive mood. I'll be a good girl and play nice. I promise. Too late. I feel the click in the machines.
Didn't I mention them before?
A wide and textured vibrator stands guard outside the entrance of my ata. His brother is not very wide but is twice as long, lodged inside my rectum. A frankensteined mix between a vibrator, excrement tube, and anal beads. Their vibrating sister, biting my clitoris with her alligator teeth; she came to life before the alarm even sounded. It's a failsafe mechanism to ensure I don't activate my abilities. The scientists figured out my one weakness outside of lethal hunger: no chains, no pain, no drugs could subdue me. I'm unable to use my abilities for destruction if my body prepares for creation. In other words, I can't kill you all if you keep me horny. Before the geniuses figured it out, I had so much fun. Slaughtering a respectable number of soldiers, scientists, even a cleaning attendant once. He, who was curious about the petite girl, held in a cage. And I was sedated most of the time. They ran every conceivable test on my body. Want to know how a frog feels, whilst being vivisected? Hmm? Never mind.
How did I offend the creator to deserve this?
I was assisting this country's army, at my Father's command. He likes to help human rulers from time to time; to have leverage and exert power over them. He had a task for me and my brother. Of course. I gladly serve his decrees. I'm his defender; his force of destruction. Well, long story short, I was trapped by our
'allies'
. Fucking traitors. If I was caught in battle, by an enemy, I would have admired their boldness. There's no greater dishonor than to harm a guest, you've invited. For this alone, I will exact my revenge upon them all.
I've been here ever since, though... not sure how long. I believe the first years of my captivity were in endless sleep. I was awakened and they started the fertility experiments. I suppose, they gave up on my submission; to become their pet weapon of mass destruction. Suppose, they want to create a perfect little army, with the power of the gods. But the vermin had no idea how hard it is, for one such as me, to conceive. Over my long life, I have had thousands of lovers, both human and not. Not a one pregnancy. So barren, my accolades started the joke I was eternally virginal. These vile creatures are definitely putting that theory to rest.
But I digress. The alarms are blasting. My little sister came alive, as my power roused. There are electrodes attached to my head and body, measuring, watching me. The wires all surround below. Outside the cage, of course, in the large space beyond. The walls vibrate with a metallic echo. The floor is hard as stone, for I can hear the constant clacking of their shoes. Thank the deivos, no one ever talks for I won't be able to stand relentless jabbering, in addition to the beepings. I can't describe it in any further detail. I've always been blind-folded when inside the cage. But I know it exists. I've heard it click closed. I'm strapped to a soft surface, by finger-wide bands: above my breast, at hips, at thighs, and at ankles, keeping me from closing my legs. The straps are metal, hard, unyielding. Below them, a cocoon, wrapped around my upper body, keeping my hands and arms in place, crossed above the chest. Mummified. So constraining, it was difficult to breathe at first. I'm naked otherwise and always cold.
The scoundrels keep it freezing. I hate the cold.
No, the woven fabric is not to keep me warm. The scientists called it - Kevlar. Stronger than spider's silk. Unable to be punctured open by any force. But they didn't stop there. They said the bands and cage are made of the strongest material on the planet. Difficult and time-consuming to produce. As if I'm supposed to be awed by their prowess. It shows stupidity. How much wealth and lives did they waste to keep me in my gilded prison?
I'm always skeptical when my enemy shares intel with me. It's ever only given as propaganda, to inflate their power and control. To dissuade from fighting back my captors. As if I'm no match for their technology and skill. This technique is quite effective. I've often used it myself. It's easier to subdue one, who has already decided they have lost. Only I'm not a human. Not completely, anyway. Over the years, breaking limitations has become a hobby, to battle the ravages of boredom. They only succeeded in making me study and exploit my constraints for vulnerabilities.
The clip is vibrating. I can't dislodge it, as little movement as I'm afforded, as its tiny teeth are biting into my flesh. I could remove it with my abilities now, but why bother. I'll be sedated and my cage sentence extended. Its pattern always changes, so I can't get accustomed to the oscillations. It begins with a constant, even pace then it pulses in intervals. A tiny met hitting my bump every second. Can even administer weak electric shocks, if it doesn't extract the required level of arousal.
I moan.
The vibrations are quite pleasant in the beginning. My little sister is so skilled at eliciting a reaction out of me. A welcoming warmth spreads. It's not enough to push me over, but it bathes in happiness and much needed heat.
The big lover before my vulva comes to life, penetrates my tight channel with no hurry. This is odd... They haven't used the large one in a while. Not once since I got pregnant, six months ago. I suppose my power rousing has them spooked. They doubt the clitoral clip will be enough to squash the abilities. The phallus is entering my channel a fingernail-length at a time. Then stops, for some seconds, allowing my body to begin lubrication and to appreciate its enormous girth. Delightful pain and fullness swaddle me with every minute. My power, seeping out already. Finally, my lover sits still at the pit. I'm filled. The vibrations still. Frustration. I want movement. I want more. I try to push my hips in and out, but the straps negotiate no distance.
I growl.