Virtual Vixens

Photostory by

Rogue Hagen

Michael once again tries in vain to shift his position. The bands around his arms and legs, wrists and ankles, hold him spread-eagled, dangling in space. He relaxes again, and waits.
He has awoken like this, unsure of where he is. Some kind of body suit covers him from the neck down, slick and clammy. It fits like a second skin, even tailored around his cock and balls.
It stretches and tightens with every slight muscle movement, allowing no air between his skin and the smooth covering. His head appears to be covered in some kind of helmet that blocks his sight, clamped tightly around his ears.
He tries to think calmly, trying to work out where he is, what has happened.
The last thing he can remember is one of his Lady’s Mistresses giving him his evening meal.
He does not feel any after-effects, but that doesn’t mean she hadn’t slipped something into it.
She must have done it on somebody elses orders, his Lady has no need to use drugs to compel him to do anything. What he can’t work out is why anybody would want to kidnap him. It can’t be for ransom, he is not a valuable piece of property, not a breeder or pleasure slave. And his Lady would not bother to pay for a servant she could so easily replace; merely one of many dogsbodies.
Confused, he stops trying to speculate, and concentrates instead on trying to listen for any clues to where he is.
Nothing.
Suddenly, he feels something brush against his leg. It feels like a hand stroking him, and he turns his head, straining to catch the sound of breathing, or the rustle of clothes. It is in vain, it must be his mind playing tricks on him, he thinks. He wonders if that is the object of his position, his unknown captors using sensory deprivation to affect his mind, to make him more pliable.
The unseen hand touches him again, a finger casually running down his chest.
“Who’s there?” he wants to say, but for the first time notices a pipe of some sort fixed between his teeth, effectively gagging him. Exploring it with his tongue he finds the end to be open.
Without warning, bright white light snaps on. He shuts his eyes against the glare, the light painful after the deep blackness, then slowly, carefully opens them, giving them time to adjust.
Some sort of visor must have opened in the helmet, he thinks, his vision now restored. Before him, against the intense background, stands a sinister blonde. Her cruel eyes jog something in his memory, a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, but in his confused state he cannot concentrate, his apprehension pushing the thought away. The scarlet lips curl into a humourless smile, not echoed by her eyes.
“So you’re awake. Ready to play?” Although she appears to speak the words, he recognises the slight tinniness of electronic amplification. He realises that it is headphones clamped around his ears, making sure that he only hears what this mystery woman wants him to hear. He moves his head down, looking at the swell of her large breasts under a low-cut latex dress, surprised to find no microphone pinned there. Alarm bells are ringing madly in his head now, but he is concentrating too much on the rubber- clad woman in front of him, who intrigues and excites him despite himself.
Her hand, covered in the same, shiny material, reaches up towards his chest, slowly and deliberately grasping his nipple through the rubber of the suit that tightly binds it. Her smile is fixed as she suddenly pinches her fingers together in a vice-like grip. He clamps his teeth down hard on the pipe jammed between them, a desperate attempt to stifle the yelp of pain and surprise. How could those slim hands be so strong?
His tormentor cocks her head, a vaguely familiar gesture, as she concentrates on her task. Then, incredibly, she tightens her grasp. Michael tries to squirm, to break her hold, but he is held too tightly. As the pressure relentlessly increases he finally lets out a long, agonised moan, but if she hears she gives no sign, merely continuing with her torment in the same detached manner.
He is suddenly plunged into blackness, the loss of light as painful as its sudden appearance a few moments ago. The hand clamped around his nipple withdraws with the same speed, leaving it throbbing painfully. To his surprise, he is aware of another, more pleasant ache from his loins, as the suit expands easily around his growing erection.
He flinches as he feels something touch his chest again, but the hand begins to caress him, brushing feather- light over his bruised nipple. Another hand squeezes his buttock, beginning to stroke it, harsher yet no less sensual.
He revels in the sensations, enjoying the contrast to the torment he had endured. With a shock he feels a third hand touch him, fingernails gently raking his sensitive inner thigh. There are two of them! He feels a hand encircle his balls, beginning to squeeze the delicate eggs. He gasps as it tightens, a dull ache in the pit of his stomach as it grows painful, yet he remains aware of the caresses over other parts of his body.
The silence is broken by gentle, female breathing, soft yet close enough to make him believe she stands at his shoulder, mouth pressed to his ear. It is echoed by another in his other ear, harsher yet still distinctly female, sexual excitement displayed in the huskiness. The strange, stereo effect gives the sounds an ethereal air, disorientating him further in his excited state.
The hand around his balls loosens and begins to slowly work its way up the rock-hard shaft. Slowly, gently it begins to stroke him, back and forth, clenching and unclenching. He loses himself in the rhythm, now picked up by the other hands on him, until it settles into a rippling effect no human hands could achieve. With a jolt he realises what is happening, what is being done to him. How could he have been so stupid, to miss all the signs? It is too late now though, he is lost in the stroking, rippling rhythm as it spreads over his body.
The screens, as he now knows they are, come into life again, the harsh light replaced by a heavy darkness, the only light in his view bathing his tormentor. She lights a cigarette as she watches her plaything, casually blowing out a stream of smoke at him. She smiles the same cruel smile, before the view changes.
She stands further back, her dress replaced by more tight red rubber, a bodysuit that frees her arms to use the vicious looking whip dangling from her wrist. Facing him, she places her hand on one rounded hip, staring at him arrogantly. He is transfixed, taking in her display of a perfect body, long legs sheathed in gleaming thigh boots, rounded hips and full breasts. She seems almost too perfect, the evenly tanned skin unmarked, the smooth flesh free of any fat.
The caresses cover half his body now, waves of pleasure coursing through him non-stop, and as he looks at his tormentor all he feels is desire. There is a movement on the edge of the pool of light and another figure comes into view, man or woman Michael cannot tell, crawling up to the dominatrix and prostrating itself at her feet.
Still staring at Michael, she raises her arm, holding the pose for a split second, long enough for him to appreciate the way her firm breasts ride up, before she drops her arm with incredible force. The sound of the blow echoes in his head like a gunshot, causing him to suck in his breath in sympathy. He watches the androgynous figure, red weals slowly coming up on its back, as it starts to kiss the shiny leather, an unanswered plea for mercy.
The lash falls again, then again, building up into a steady rhythm, in tune with the rippling caresses that now cover Michael’s body.
The scene suddenly disappears, to be replaced by another tableau, three women intertwined in a display of lesbian love, their cries pushing his desire further.
As quickly as it had come it was gone, replaced by another, then yet another.
A prisoner begs for mercy as three state guards are given free rein, howling in agony as their spiked heels dig into his unprotected flesh.
The dominas’ hands dip between their legs, faces flushed with sexual excitement, as another kick crashes into him.
A Lady digs her stilettoes deep into the calves of a pleasure slave as he services her, his pain increasing her ecstasy as she rakes his back with razor-sharp nails, spurring him on to ever deeper thrusts.
As the perversions
continue on the screens in front of his eyes, his final senses are assaulted. The pipe between his teeth, and two more under his nostrils, spray scents that complete his immersion in pure sensation. His nose is overwhelmed with a woman’s musky smell, the taste of her filling his mouth.
The obscenities being played out in front of his eyes are moving past faster now.
A woman fastens weights to her labia before impaling herself on a huge vibrator.
A socialite, beautifully made up and expensively
dressed, fellates three
breeders before being
showered with sperm, her dinner guests looking on.
The rippling sensations around his body are interspersed with others now, giving way at times once again to the feeling of hands stroking him. His nipples are abused again and again, crushed as before, as is his cock and balls, but he is past caring, welcoming each new sensation.
The visions acted out have given way to stills, their speed continuing to increase. Greedily, he absorbs scenes of pain and humiliation, every bizarre permutation played out in, front of him. Images of the superior women’s wildest excesses heighten his delight in the the bizarre slide-show. Interspersed in it all, he keeps seeing the mysterious figure he had first glimpsed. Her perfect rubber clad body torments him as she sits casually smoking, ignoring the pleas for mercy as she, with total disregard for her victims, plays out her perverse fantasies to the full.
The noise in his ears is just a wall of moaning, cries of pleasure mingling with screams of pain, hundreds of voices mixing together to shatter his senses. His nostrils are assailed by a multitude of odours, the smells of sexual activity mixed with those of rubber and leather, and some that remain unidentifiable.
Every time he starts to come, a ring clamps tightly around the base of his cock, its positioning exact enough to stop him reaching his climax. It is happening repeatedly now, keeping him almost permanently on the verge of orgasm.
His skin is on fire with the mixture of pain and pleasure being forced upon it, not an inch of him is spared.
The sounds are so intermingled that they appear to be one, a single scream of ecstasy that fills his head.
The pictures in front of him are a montage that blur past, too fast for him to see, imprinting instead directly onto his subconscious.
He is unable to think about anything now, lost in total sensation, all his
senses under the devastating assault. His heart is hammering as, again and again, his balls contract, only to be stopped by a perfectly timed squeeze of the suit. He feels as if he could go on forever, abandoning himself to unbridled pleasure.
Suddenly there is
nothing.
The screens go dark.
The sounds are just a distant echo in his head.
A slight tingling on his skin is all that is left to show the manipulation he had undergone.
The smells and tastes are quickly- fading memories.
He feels his body begin to move, then his stomach flips over as he loses even the feeling of gravity, as if he were falling.
To have such an overdose of sensation so suddenly, so cruelly, snatched away from him is more than he can bear.
Despite the pipe between his teeth, he manages to scream.
Karen watches the strange figure through the glass. She cannot begin to imagine the feelings he is experiencing, trapped inside that suit, rotating in the frame that had been designed to give trainee astronauts the feeling of weightlessness.
She cannot help feel sorry for him, even if he is only a man, but is more worried about herself.
If they are caught she would be facing real trouble. Not for mistreating a slave, of course, that didn’t matter. Stealing the property of a Lady, however, is a different matter entirely, especially one as powerful as Lady Karla. She could lose everything, her job, her status, all that she had striven for. The only thing that had made her go along with Electra, the maverick doctor, was that she had noticed another one of those suits in the lab. A female suit.
She glances at Electra out of the corner of her eye, the so-called behavioural psychologist. The crazy bitch ought to try analysing her own behaviour sometime, thinks Karen. She is obviously turned on by what she is doing, she had even added herself into the sequence, trying to imprint herself onto her victim.
Despite herself, Karen had felt her pussy moistening as the images flashed by, wondering where Electra had got them, some of the faces intriguingly familiar. Midnight fantasies, when she was half-asleep and her inhibitions lowered, were dragged guiltily to the surface.
The effect on Electra had been much more obvious. Karen had noticed her breathing getting hoarse as she played with her guinea-pig. As the experiment had progressed, her hand had dipped repeatedly to her crotch, pressing against the tight rubber. The thin latex, already stretched by her ample breasts, had been further pushed as her huge nipples poked through. Karen is fascinated by them, far bigger than her own, and she half turns to look at them again.
This time Electra notices the look, and turns to her. She smiles, not at all embarrassed by Karen’s attentions, and slips an arm around her, gently squeezing her breast. Karen flinches
“Doctor!”
“What’s wrong Karen?” she teases. “Don’t you want some fun as well?”
Karen does not reply. She does not want to upset the doctor, she is unpredictable and Karen does not want to be the next experiment. Even as a senior member of the design team that developed the virtual reality suit so important to the doctor’s weird torture, she does not think she would hesitate to use it on her if she thought Karen is not with her. Not trusting herself to speak, she nods dumbly.
“To start with, Doctor is far too formal. My name is Electra, but I still expect respect so you can call me Mistress Electra. Understand?”
Karen nods again, hiding her shock.
Mistress! She really has no respect for the rules, granting herself the title that is only allowed to be used by those who earn it serving a Lady.
“Say yes, Mistress.”
“Y-yes, Mistress,” Karen
stammers. Her heart is in her mouth, a mixture of fear, disgust and excitement, as she remembers the bizarre sex acts that had so excited the Do – Mistress Electra.
Electra suddenly reaches across to the bank of computer terminals, typing briefly to restart the sequence in the lab.
Electra turns to her.
“Strip.”
Quickly, fumbling in her
anxiousness, Karen begins to undress, carelessly piling her clothes on the desk behind her. Mistress Electra takes her time examining her, ordering her to turn slowly so that she can take in every inch. Finally, she nods her approval.
“Now, strip me.”
Karen kneels before her. She undoes the ties on the tight rubber G string, sliding it slowly to the ground for her Mistress to step out of. She carefully sneaks a glance at the tanned, elegant legs before standing. Trembling with excitement, she begins to undo the top. As she peels it off, she cannot resist a gasp. Although Electra had used computer enhancement of her image to entice her slave-to-be in the lab, her body was already stunning. She cannot tear her eyes away from the firm rounded breasts, the massive brown nipples jutting out from them.
She steps back then, her eyes still glued to the wonderful body. She wears no underwear save a suspender belt holding up her sheer black stockings, and her entire body is tanned to perfection, even her groin which she has carefully shaved. Electra basks in her slaves admiring gaze for a few moments, then orders her to her knees.
“Suck my clit!”
She leans back, her ass against the edge of the desk behind her, and parts her legs. Karen eagerly puts her head forward, teasing the little bud from under its hood with her tongue before taking it between her lips and sucking gently.
“Harder, slave!” barks Electra. “Do it properly.”
In response, Karen begins to suck as hard as she can, bringing an encouraging gasp from above. The pussy is wet already, and as she continues the juice begins to flow harder. By the time Electra pushes her head away her chin is coated in the warm cream. Eager to taste it for the first time, she runs a finger over it, licking it off with relish.
In his cocoon, Michael is
desperately trying to keep control as his body is righted again and the seductive caresses spread over his body once more. Instead of the visual assault as before, however, he is presented with just one scene being played out before him.
Although she is naked except for a pair of stockings and suspenders, he knows straight away who the dominatrix is. The rubber clad woman who was putting him through this is presented to him in all her glory, his artificially enhanced desire causing an almost physical ache in his chest. He wants her more than anything, envying the woman who has her head buried between her thighs.
He recognises her, and the woman worshipping her, as members of the project housed in the high-security wing of the research plant. He had visited there a couple of times with Lady Karla, attending to her every whim as she inspected the labs. Every time he had seen that beautiful woman as he performed his menial chores, he had been unable to keep his eyes off her, having to look away hurriedly whenever she had caught him ogling her. He wonders if this was why he’d been chosen as her plaything.
It scarcely matters now that he knew. The addictive potential of virtual sex had been fully realised by this woman, he would do anything for her in return for the pleasure she is able to bestow.
As he watches, aching with envy, wishing it could be him on his knees, he begins to taste his goddess’s come as the aroma is blown from the pipe between his teeth.
He can hear the ragged breathing now, as the speakers next to his ears become active.
“Suck it, slave.”
As if in sympathy with the kneeling woman, he begins to suck on the hard plastic intruding into his mouth, eager for the taste. Her smell begins to intrude as well, and once again he finds himself transported as his senses are swamped, although this time concentrating only on one thing, on the one woman who could give such pleasure.
Again the ring around his cock comes into play as he attempts to reach orgasm, keeping him on the very edge, his mind oblivious to anything but the pleasure he has found.
He watches, spellbound, as
Mistress Electra, as he now knows to call her, forces her slave onto a chair, her legs swung over the arms. With fascination, he sees Electra coat her hand in some kind of cream, then insert three fingers into the waiting, open pussy. She wanks Karen slowly for a while, then adds her thumb and final finger.
Michael’s cock strains as he listens to Karen’s panting, begging her Mistress not to stop.
“You want more?” the domina asks, evenly.
“Oh, yes, Mistress.”
“OK.” smiles Electra, and forces her hand into the tight crack.
The cries, amplified in the speakers, bombard Michael. The pain and surprise soon give way to passion as Karen, to Electra’s delight, grabs her wrist and begins to thrust herself onto the hand embedded inside her. In minutes she is shouting with delight as she comes.
Michael almost weeps in frustration as once again he is denied the release he had been forced to witness. The manipulation is obvious, but he does not care. It is done so skilfully that he could not resist even if he wanted to. She has him bent to her will so well that he would probably fall over himself to try and fulfil any order she gave him.
Without warning he is plunged into blackness, and moments later is floating again, all sensation lost. He knows she cannot hear him, but all that stops him begging her to continue, to allow him his release, is the pipe jammed in his mouth.
Karen carefully helps her Mistress dress. Her pussy aches from the intrusion but she ignores it, pleased at the intensity of her orgasm. Once the suit is in place and all the adjustments made she sits back on the chair again as a double-ended dildo is forced up her already-sore cunt and strapped in place around her hips. She places the helmet that Electra gave her on her head, and lies down on the desk. She lovingly watches Electra working expertly on the computers, and waits.
Michael feels the welcome return of gravity as the centrifuge slows. This time, he is left lying on his back. Impatiently, he waits for the treatment to continue.
The screens snap on to show his tormentor standing over him, her torso covered in a seamless rubber outfit, the thousands of tiny bumps visible in it’s shiny, black surface marking it as the sister to the one he is wearing.
He jerks his head in shock at her closeness, but the image remains static.
The view follows her hand, revealing his body.
His disorientation clears at the sight of a pair of breasts on his chest- she had simply attached the cameras to her female slave’s head.
He sees the fingers close around one of the swollen pink nipples, then squeeze hard. He sucks in his breath as he feels his own being crushed, the gasp of pain coming from Karen substituted for his by the helmet.
His heart leaps.
She is using the suits to make him experience what the female slave is! He revels in the thought, the perversity of being made to feel another’s experiences, especially another of his goddess’s slaves.
His perspective changes again as Karen moves her head to stare up at her Mistress, the movement making him dizzy as he experiences the world through Karen.
The domina smiles as she enjoys what is for her, too, a new experience, being able to cause the same torment to two people simultaneously.
Electra reaches down with her other hand and he feels his other nipple grasped and then crushed.
Karen looks down again and he he watches as the rubber-clad hands begin to turn, twisting the nipples cruelly, first one way then the other.
His gasps of pain are echoed by Karen, as he sees the flesh of her breasts being pulled by the rough treatment.
He hears Karen begin to moan as the pain grows worse, having to bite down on the
pipe himself from the unrelenting pressure as his own nipples are pulled and tormented. Suddenly, the pressure eases as Electra releases her grip.
He relaxes his clenched jaw and finds himself once more staring up into the face of his goddess as Karen, panting, looks up again.
She smiles , the hint of cruelty still apparent in the curve of her mouth.
She looks down her slaves body, and Karen follows her gaze, revealing the dildo strapped on to her for the first time.
Weird feelings overcome him, he feels as if he is inside Karen’s body, the artificial cock adding a strange, transsexual undercurrent.
He is surprised to see Electra’s hand reach down to encircle the dildo, but the sensors in the rubber covering her hand pick up the touch and transfer it to his straining prick. As he watches her begin to stroke the rubber prick, his prick, he starts to hope.
Is this the release he has been waiting for? Is he finally going to be allowed to come?
He feels the sensation of her thumb hooked round the base of his cock, his balls cupped gently in her hand.
“Are you ready for this, slave?”
Karen looks up at her, giving Michael another look at his goddess.
Ready for what? He adores this woman, for the sensations she has forced upon him, but he cannot get used to that cruel smile.
The sadistic mocking in her voice makes him want to cry out “No!” but it is not up to him.
“Yes, Mistress.”
Waves of pain spread through his groin as Electra closes her hand in a vice-like grip. The delicate eggs are already aching to be emptied after the teasing and torments he has endured, kept full far longer than would have been possible without the futuristic rubber suit that she has encased him in.
Now, the pain consumes him.
His head jerks in his agony, but all he can see is the beautiful face of his Mistress as Karen gazes up at her.
He sees her other hand reach down, and soon he feels soft caresses on his engorged cock, still rock-hard despite the pain.
Slowly, keeping up the pressure on his bursting balls, she begins to wank him.
The combination of pain and pleasure is almost unbearable but still, through the suit, she keeps him from orgasm.
Her hand begins to move faster, her grip tightening, and he feels his body respond. The frustration as once again his release is denied threatens to overwhelm him.
As he once again reaches his peak, keeping the pleasure intensified, Electra releases him. He watches through Karen’s eyes as she climbs on the desk.
She straddles Karen, appears to be straddling him.
He, and Karen, gaze in awe at the gorgeous body, clad in sinister black rubber, as Electra slowly lowers herself onto the dildo. Michael feels as though he is going to faint as he feels the weight pressing down on him, the tightness as his cock appears to be sheathed by his goddess, as he watches her mounting Karen.
She leans forward, taking hold of Karen’s breasts, and Michael feels corresponding hands press down on his chest. Both slaves feel their nipples squeezed again, but this time gently, sensually. Michael’s view is filled with Electra’s huge breasts, his nostrils beginning to pick up her strong, womanly odour.
She begins to ride the rubber cock, sending corresponding waves of pleasure to Michael’s straining prick.
He is lost to her, the intensity of the pleasure wiping everything from his mind. Electra is in total control of him, all his senses and feelings hers to be played with. He surrenders himself to her, praying for his climax to be granted soon.
Electra is in ecstasy. The bizarre coupling, the way she is able to mount both people at once thrills her like no other experience. Karen’s strange transsexual aspect, a man by proxy, excites her. The way that they had become almost one organism, dual sexed, stirs something in her bisexual nature, intensifying her pleasure beyond anything she has known.
The possibilities stretch before her. She has enslaved Karen easily, through her psychological training has recognised her potential, needing only the right atmosphere to seduce her. The success with the other, though, showsthat the new technique could be used to train anybody, to an unprecedented degree. The monitors show that he is addicted to the sensations only she can provide, she does not need to ask him to know that he will do anything to receive her reward. The thought of a future filled with totally dedicated slaves, begging to do her every whim in return for her blessings, brings her closer to her orgasm.
She sees that Karen is close to coming too, the part of the dildo inside her moving only slightly but having the desired effect on her already sensitive pussy. She concentrates, trying to control her own climax. She wants this to be special.
Michael’s eyes are blurred with tears at the ache that spreads from his balls right through his belly. He needs to come, needs it badly. He can hear the two women panting, building to their own climaxes.
Suddenly, loud moans announce that Karen has reached hers, and through his tears he sees Mistress Electra leans back into view as she, too, comes, a look of pure ecstasy on her face.
There is no vice-like clamp on his cock as he begins to join them, and with relief he feels his orgasm building. As he feels the release, the tightness hit him once again. Waves of agony spread from his groin as, with the denial coming so much later than previously, the orgasm does not subside. His body battles the suit for what seems an eternity, keeping him tantalisingly close to the climax he craves, but it is to no avail.
He is enveloped once again in blackness, the only sound an incoherent mumbling as the pipe between his teeth hampers his pitiful efforts to beg to his goddess.
Karen and Electra both look round at the sound of a door opening.
“Well?” asks Supreme Guard Aphrodite.
“Perfect,” replies Electra. “He’s totally mine now, well inside the time we forecast. He’ll do anything I tell him to.”
“Good. Send him back to Lady Karla, but tell him to report to you regularly. I want to know everything that bitch does.”
She places a hand on Electra’s shoulder, and a knowing look passes between them.
“With this technique to strengthen my following, it won’t be long before I’m ready. And when I’m in power, I’ll need people like you at my side.”
As Electra removes the helmet, her eyes shine with the undisguised greed for power. Despite her new-found devotion to her, Karen shivers at the look.