Surge 3

The door puffed open, stirring a spider's web in the corner of the room. It was dark down here, the only light spilling in from the top of the steps at a sharp angle. The pod system had been installed several months ago, and so far the results were outstanding. No more power bills at all, plus a little kickback from the power company for the excess capacity their system generated. Still though, it paid to check it on it every week or so.

The service agent who installed the pod in the basement said that while everyone expected a smaller bill by switching to o-power, he thought they would do much better than that. Pointing to the pod he said they'd struck gold; explaining that the focus they had been assigned was a premium one. Top of her class. He looked proud when he told them about her vitals; during training she would often run at 150bpm for hours at a time on very low level stim. It was well above the rates they were promised in the brochure.

Owner came down the stairs and stopped to glance at the small tablet computer that monitored the pod. Almost all of the dials and meters displayed on it were completely meaningless to him. The service agent had explained what they all meant during install - paying particular attention to describe how the bpm was the simplest indicator of power out - but not much of the technology behind o-power had actually sunk in.

He was more interested in the results, of course. The fact that through the small viewing portal he could see a gorgeous, smooth body wriggling desperately and soundlessly didn't really keep his interest. He looked back over at the screen and noticed that bpm had dropped to just 125. The power output was down too, it had been almost 9 minutes since the last o-burst, and all of this costing him an above average rate of stim. This was definitely not normal, he expected more from his pod-unit, especially after its performance during that blackout last month.

First he pushed the zap button. The salesman suggested he always start with this before changing any settings. It was to let the focus know a new program was commencing. At first he was unsure what to press next. There were so many different buttons on the panel. He hovered over a small square that said "Reset", and another that read "Maximum Output (Not Recommended)". He paused as his finger moved over the third button, a small yellow square that read "Surge Power". Sighing, he leaned in and pressed it. Just have to give the focus a little bit of help, he thought, then we'll be back up to regular capacity and profit.

A few moments after pressing the Surge Power button the panel was locked, and a little yellow zig-zag of electricity flashed on the screen. He turned and left the basement stepping carefully over the large black cables that connected the machine to the water and nutrient feeds, and then the bright orange cable that ran directly to the electrical distribution board and out onto the power grid beyond.

"O-Power - Caution" warned a heavy sign. The pod whirred quietly as he clambered up the steps and back into the warmth of the house. Surge mode was beginning to roll out across the whole pod now. Already the focus's bpm had begun to build back up.

At first the focus wasn't sure what was happening. Because her regular rates were so high she didn't have to deal with surges very often. In fact she had been semiconscious when the client had inspected her, and was still not fully awake. When he had pressed the zap button moments ago it filtered through to her dreams instead of waking her, the burst of stim tingling just above her crotch. It was the kind of stim designed to vibrate deep inside her and pleasure the longer internal wings of her clit. By the time she had regained enough awareness to understand what was happening she felt the buzzing nodes of the pod begin to push down into her crotch, breasts and face.

The surge light blinked silently. In her sleepy and vague state of mind it took a few extra moments to sink in. Surge, or hard-fast as she had come to think of it as. There was usually a minute or so before it really ramped up, so time was just on her side, but it wouldn't be long before she was a convulsing, climaxing mess. Surges could be some of the most intense blocks, and she was thankful they never lasted too long. Afterall, a body can only orgasm so hard before damage is done.

She blinked the awakening tears out of her eyes and tried to focus on the little screen on the inside of the pod. It had her contract term in days - 89 out of 365 - her bpm rate (132 and rising), and her o-power output, currently at 1.8. There were other numbers and readings but none of them mattered as much as those three, and she knew that 1.8 was far under what she needed to turn the surge off.

But it wasn't always easy to predict how hard she would have to push herself. Surge protocol was different because it didn't seem to be controlled by her output of o-power alone. She could generate 10 or even a hundred o-bursts and hold the power out at a steady 5.0, and still the pod would suck more out of her until the surge was finished. The owners might have some idea about how long it goes on for out on the controlling panel of the black pod, but inside the unit where she was there was no indication.

Most surges in the past had usually only been minutes long, but she could remember at least one time it had gone on for nearly an hour, pulsing her body and forcing so much direct stimulation onto her that she passed out, only to wake up to find herself literally midway through an o-burst. The machine hadn't stopped when she fell unconscious - it didn't seem to care.

More of the machine was booting up now and she heard the usual small, experimental clicking noises. It didn't just shove hard stim straight onto her, it had learned that she needed to be played more delicately and over time it had come to use a little more finesse. It gently added a few more vibration pads and stimulus points and began to ramp them up slowly. Its precision and calculations were so perfectly placed it was almost cruel. She knew it was getting itself ready to put her system through a massive surge of pleasure.

No, pleasure wasn't quite the right word for it. If a lover had done this to her it might have been pleasure. If she had some control over it, maybe had her old vibrator in her hands and could take care of it herself, it could have been pleasure for her. But instead all she had was the sensors, the probes, the monitors on her heart and temples. All of them reporting back to the pod, tracking every fluctuation in her biochemistry and learning how to pull every drop of o-power out of her. The program that controlled the flow of stimulation across her was not interested in her wellbeing. To it, she was a raw material to be harvested, a rat in a wheel it had to make run to keep the lights on upstairs.

A rhythmic pulsing throb began to tremble throughout the pod. Breathing deep from the tube in her mouth she tried to establish a rhythm for her lungs, or anything that could help to control how the surge would stampede through her. Almost immediately the pod responded, upping the oxygen to take advantage of her deep breaths and make her feel lightheaded and dreamy.

She was struggling to keep her breathing regular, but how do you control lightning? How do you command a sea in a storm, or your own biochemistry? She was at the mercy of the program and the pod, and to them the surge had no room for mercy. As long as the pod decided she needed to put out more power, she would be stimmed and zapped without rest. Each o-burst sent power from the pod out of the orange cable and into the walls of the house.

A trickle of sweat beaded at her brow and rolled down her cheek to the cushioning under her head. Every second the buzzing stim pushed her deeper into a pleasure-state. This was manageable, at least for a little while. But the program had other ideas; it wanted long, sustained bursts from her and it had devised a new protocol to test out.

An earthy, musky scent wafted into the mask strapped to her face, making her nose tingle. It was clean sweat, ocean spray, and wet earth before the dew was burned off. She breathed it in reluctantly, in short gasps at first. Knowing she couldn't escape it, she tried to relax and breathe more deeply, sucking the pheromone mixture deeper into her lungs.

The pod seemed to hold back a little as the chemical soaked in, which she thought was polite if nothing else. After just a few seconds her fingertips began to tingle, then the tips of her toes. She pursed her lips gently as they began to feel a light tickling bristle as well. The chemical was deep into her bloodstream now, moving in from the extremities and up into her core. Her vitals ticked up on the little screen in front of face, and seemingly satisfied with the results it was getting the program began to increase the pressure on the stim across all zones.

Fight it, hold tight, she thought. The pheromone fog that was starting to take hold of her changed the nature of the surge. She was a consistent regular achiever when she was in control of herself. Her numbers were impressive: a high bmp, ongoing powerful o-bursts. But the fog made her feel like an animal. A caged, primitive thing in heat, whose only thought was to be filled and to burst with the pleasure of it.

The salesman had explained the chemical as a synthetic pheromone designed to achieve a rapid restoration of bmp and o-power in emergencies only. But when the engineers found they could use 10, even 20 times the recommended dosage with no side-effects they added it to the more mundane surge function. Now a focus could expect to be dosed with fog a few times a week during their contract.

The tingling was deep into her now, sending sparks through the folds of her labia and deeper into her still. She clenched her pelvic muscles with frustration. She felt empty, hollow. Strange images flashed through her mind as she began grinding her hips.

Fill me, she muttered; a tiny whisper of the deep need she was feeling. It had been so quiet and so soft she didn't even realize she had said it out loud - but the pod had heard it. There was a moment of whirring, then silence as it adjusted the program. Her heart skipped a beat as all the stim across her body switched off.

The moment of silence seemed to stretch on for hours, but she knew it was only five or six breaths. Goosebumps were appearing all over her as the lack of sensation drove her overly-sensitive body into a frenzy. Her slit was slick, and her wetness began to drip down her. All over her body hummed with frustration, she was so desperate she started squeezing her thighs together in a futile attempt to get relief. The feeling of terrible emptiness began to grow unbearable, her unfilled holes clenching like they were trying to milk some unseen penetrator.

Finally the pod began to whir to life again, its unseen mechanics clicking into place as the next setting began to come online. The stim pad on her crotch buzzed back into life, but it wasn't enough. Penetration was always the machine's favorite way of using her in the depths of the fog. According to its sensors, denying stim in the minute before penetration would make everything that came next dramatically more pleasurable, increasing output for no extra cost.

A thin bumpy rod cycled from the rack, its head just coming into contact with the slippery mess of her hole. She held her breath. It grazed against her and she ground her hips in frustration. The head of the rod pressing against her fog-crazy body set off the first little rolling stones of an avalanche inside her. She was breathing hard and fast now, well over 160 bpm, but with curiously low o-output. The build up was huge, but she needed some catalyst to start to convert this bpm to o-power.

This was the real goal of the fog pheromone: it temporarily rewired her body to only respond to penetrative pleasure. Only the deep friction of hard fucking could force her to o-burst now. The stim pads would help keep her bpm up giving the program the raw fuel for power, but it was the rods that would be the real stars from here.

Without warning it began. The first long thrust into her set off a chain reaction burning straight up from her crotch and through her body. Her o-burst hit so hard and fast she didn't even realize it had hit, her mind and body feeling the intensity of the burst just out of sync. The rod withdrew in a single tug, and slammed deep into her again almost immediately. Stars shot across the world as another o-burst exploded from her. Time felt slower and the world was syrupy as the fog dulled down everything outside of her own feelings and body. Each thrusting bump of the rod had a dreamy slow motion quality.

A sensible, quiet part of her brain thought that this was too much for her. This much stim and fog and bpm and o-bursts would do permanent damage. The uncaring machine would pull so much o-power out of her - willing or unwilling - that she'd end up either braindead or poddicted. The waiver she signed said that the energy company doesn't acknowledge that any focuses end up poddicted, but after a few months she knew exactly why some focuses give up on life and let the pods take over.

She felt like a slab of meat as the rod slammed her wetness ferociously. After a moment the stim started back up hard. It had been blasting her the whole time of course, but in her fog-fixation only the thrusting rod seemed to get through to her sluggish brain.

The surge continued to flood through her, pulsing and thrusting and pushing so much stim onto her overly-sensitive parts that she began to tremble uncontrollably, flinching but unable to escape. She writhed and struggled half-heartedly as her body began to climax regularly. The swirling, clenching o-bursts pulled out of her in a non-stop stream of babbling energy.

On the screen in front of her face flashed her vitals: bpm at 181, o-power at 5.7 and holding steady. She was at full gallop now; the rod slamming into her punched out burst after burst. The artificial pheromone and the viscous fucking made her pussy feel swollen and unnaturally sensitive. Each wave of stim synced up to a thrust of the machine, pushing her body harder and harder into the pleasure-state.

The machine found a rhythm almost straight away. By thrusting in this time to dancing stim zaps just above her clit it created a brain-breaking feedback loop for very little effort. The focus gasped sharply, her eyes suddenly wide and clear as she recognised the huge scale of the avalanche about to rumble inside her.

The machine didn't change a single thing, thrusting to within a milimeter and slamming the same spot relentlessly, all in perfect synced-up concert with the vibrations all over her. It went on, her heart and lungs felt like they would burst. Every muscle tensed and clenched and relaxed as o-power was drawn out of her. For the first time she felt the electric zap of power being sucked out of somewhere other than her crotch. The lean muscles of her legs were convulsing like they were orgasming too, along with her core, shoulders and her clenching fists.

Outside the pod a notice flashed up onto the screen.

"New output high recorded."

The full-body bliss felt never ending, but eventually the machine made a subtle shift in pitch and the surge began to slow down. Lingering in an oddly intimate way the rod slowed down to a stop. Then, as if to tease her one last time, it pulled out of her with mind-melting slowness. Each bump of its rigid shaft sent shocks of o-power up her body and she clenched tightly around it to try and keep it in. But eventually it was gone and she was empty again.

The pod wasn't finished. Deep inside the machine parts whirred and it bought another rod out. In a quick motion it spun around and pressed its much larger head against her.

This rod was much bigger, bigger than any human she'd had before. It lined up precisely, pushing just enough to get the right position. Up near her face there was a quiet hiss and a new vapor filled her mask. This time it smelled harsh and raw. It was a pungent and animal smell like a gym at closing time, mixed with the heavy fragrance of cumin. It made her clench her eyes tight and gag as she breathed. She didn't know this pheromone, but she did know immediately how it was making her feel.

Moving slowly, forcefully, the large rod began to split her in half, its giant head reacting with the supremely sensitive nerves of her hole. She didn't know how there could still be any pleasure left to pull out of her abused pussy, but somehow o-bursts began to build up deep in her core. The strange part was that her bpm was starting to drop, her whole body feeling heavy, almost leaden. This new pheromone was keeping her sensitivity up, letting the o-burst drip out of her one after another, all while putting her body down like a sedative. In a flash of understanding she knew what this new drug did: it put her to sleep, but kept her body aroused and responsive, still able to climax and put out more o-power than ever before.

Deep exhaustion crept around her like a mist in her mind. Her ragged breaths were rhythmically interrupted by the huge rod slowly sliding in and out of her, forcing the air out in harsh huffs. Sleep had been a safe place up till now, but the pod and the program had other ideas.

This was the first time the focus had actually experienced the mind and body-breaking power of the "sleep-out" pheromone. One of the others at the orientation camp had told her about it, but she didn't know it was used on first-timers. Always on the lookout for improvements, the pod had noticed how easily sleep-out could help it achieve its target. This might have been the first use of it, but looking at how her vitals had responded it knew it wouldn't be the last.

The rod was still fucking her mercilessly when she passed out a few moments later. It slammed and stimmed and forced o-power out of her for hours in the longest surge she had been subjected to during her contract so far. Not that she knew it of course. The machine logged the data and wrote tomorrow's program.