Author's Note:
This series was never intended to be a series and, even more than that, was never intended to have any character development or off-action chatter. So how this one came about is beyond me.
It was inspired by a news report of an actual technological development: Electrodes that could be implanted under the skin at the base of the spine to fool the brain into thinking that the vagina was enjoying itself. I thought, well... Jade wouldn't like second best, would she? And so here we are.
Criticisms along the lines of "There's not enough character development!" will be cheerfully ignored. There's not supposed to be.
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"Alone in Space 5" Or: "Deception"
Jade looked suspiciously at the innocuous leather strip, and pointedly avoided touching it.
It was attached to her darling chair at the usual spot for the collar, but it was not the collar she was used to. Or rather, it was the wrong collar she was used to.
The collar was, of course, optional. As were all other accessories in this room, provided that certain minimal requirements were met. Every ship of the Company started out with the same base set of componentry, but once a pilot had passed their probation and become custodian of their ship they could start ticking the options boxes, and that included removing default settings.
No ship was allowed to exceed weight limits, and so Jade had compromised on exercise equipment (a basic set of resistance arms and a couple of striking pads and bags was enough) in order to include all the mechanics that she could use with - she licked her lisp merely thinking about it - her chair.
And, being a fan of restraints, and a great fan of being held immobile while abused by cold, mechanical machines which only cared about the signals coursing through her sensory nerves, had specified a collar. And liking to be restrained by flexible bonds that wrapped skin-tight around her, she had specified the leather collar.
She had grown to love that collar. She had grown to personify it and become a little submissive to the collar as an entity. She had even begun to talk to it, and to say thank you the way a good submissive should. While indulging her occasional abusive rape fantasy, she had screamed and swore at it. She had even begun kissing it.
Five voyages ago, it had been replaced.
This was not her collar. It was the new collar. It was not quite as soft, which was a little annoying. It was wider, which was good around her long neck. The attachment to the chair had been not through a chain but through a thick wire rope, which was odd but not so odd as to be annoyed at. Why, she had asked the dock manager while trying not to indulge her fantasy of slamming him back against the wall and lifting him off the ground by one hand around his neck, had it been changed at all? Why was she only now informed, and only by reading tediously through the list of checks she was required to sign off on?
Don't fucking know, not my fucking problem, the dock manager had replied shortly, and narrowly, through the most incredible effort of will on Jade's part, avoided folding up gently around testicles screaming in pain.
Well who does fucking know, she had asked, only to be told that he didn't fucking know that, either, but it was probably fucking maintenance.
There was nothing fucking wrong with it, she had objected, to be met with the perfectly accurate riposte that he didn't fucking care.
You fuck-head, she had told him, and was promptly docked a quarter of that trip's pay, for abusing senior staff, by automated sensors scattered around the dock.
That had not improved her mood, and only a thug at her destination port, who had tried to rape her in a back-alley short-cut, had helped out by giving her somebody to beat up. The dock police had protested about her cutting off his genitals with a uniform utility knife that she hadn't been allowed to carry ashore, but some smooth talking and participation in a spit-roast party with the cell door locked - like most dock staff they were easily and regularly bribed by the flesh, bathed regularly and made sure that they had sweet-tasting cum, which was always appreciated - had eased that little difficulty.
Now, five trips later, she had been informed, with great pride, by a Company representative who had demonstrated the presence of mind required to do so from behind a security-enabled desk, what the collar was for.
That had not improved her mood either.
"We can finally do away with many mechanical components of the Sexual Exercise System!" He had enthused, long practice dropping the capitals neatly into place.
Caution, in case she was fired for insubordination, prevented Jade's initial outburst and the official had been able to continue uninterrupted.
"The new generation of collar is a ganglion-accurate nerve sensor and exciter. For the past four trips, it has been calibrating itself using feedback from the sensors in your brain, so that it can, with absolute accuracy, stimulate the nerves in your spinal column to simulate any physical sensation below the neck."
She had managed to restrict herself to a disbelieving stare.
"The upshot of which", he had continued, carried away by the magnificence of the situation, "Is that we can perfectly replicate any physical activity performed by the machines, and save the weight and space that the machines took up!"
Jade's impulse, to leap across the desk and throttle him, had thankfully been consumed behind a choked-out comment that we could do this with virtual reality already.
"Yes, yes," he said irritably, waving that away. "But, as you should well know following your basic training, we cannot implant virtual-reality hardware in a pilot's head. The sensors you have are the most we can do. This way we can replicate virtual reality! We can even provide goggles if you need visual stimulation!
