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and smooched and generally "made out" with her helpless, bound,
and gagged girlfriend for about an hour. Maybe it wasn't
an actual hour, but to Alice it felt like forever—a
wet, slobbery, poking, prodding, and above all unwanted eternity.
The kissing, smooching, licking, and poking of tongue, lips, and
fingers was all one way, of course. Alice was an entirely
passive "participant." This was for three reasons: (1) She
was totally and completely uninterested in anything even
suggesting a hint of a display of affection with Lydia
Aelios; (2) She was stringently bound from her big toes to her
head in an elaborate (but arguably stylistically sophisticated)
web/sheath/cocoon of single-strand, interwoven, stretched,
amber-colored rubber tubing, including a bit-gag and tight
head-cage of more of the same tubular material; and finally (3)
she was tired, having already put in many long,
strenuous hours of enthusiastic but entirely futile struggling
while bound, gagged, and being manhandled (robot-handled?) by
Lydia's computer-controlled technology—and that included being
robo-fucked and robo-tickled until she'd passed out!
All things considered, Alice would just as soon Lydia keep her
groping hands, busy fingers, slobbering lips, and wet, slippery
tongue to herself. She was exhausted. She
needed to sleep... but Lydia wouldn't let her.
Finally—Thank God!—the amorous (insane) brunette stopped
kissing, licking, and prodding her blond prisoner/girlfriend and
lay on her side, resting the side her head up on her right
palm. Alice stared back at her captor/tormentor with
tired, pale blue eyes.
"Isn't it wonderful, darling," Lydia sighed. "You're mine
at last, and nobody has the slightest idea what's happened to
you. My system is monitoring the news, police reports, and
studio e-mails, and everyone is baffled. You've simply...
vanished... and now you're mine." She reached out and gave
Alice's left breast a gentle squeeze... for the umpteenth time
since her arrival in the bedroom. "You're all mine...
Alice could have tried to roll away, but was too tired to
bother. She was not too tired to glower at
her kidnapper and deluded "girlfriend," and she continued doing
"I don't want you to think you'll be sharing my bed every night,"
Lydia purred as she toyed with Alice's left nipple. "I'm
still angry with you for playing hard to get and running away
all those years ago. You need to be punished." She
rolled Alice's nipple between her fingers... then gave it a
teasing pinch. "And you will be. ...
Punished, I mean, many, many times for many days and in many
different ways." She returned to squeezing the breast as a
whole. "Eventually, it will be only two or three times a
week... but for now... almost every day and night, I'm afraid...
in some manner."
Lydia's smile turned truly evil. "Not only will your
suffering make me feel better, but my psychological expert
system that will be controlling your regular course of exercise,
eating, enemas, and showers will also be gathering data to
enhance your operant conditioning program. Eventually,
you'll be my obedient slave." She returned to toying with
the nipple. "Not quickly, of course. What would be
the fun in that? But eventually. Inevitably.
And speaking of obedience..."
Her heart pounding, Alice watched as Lydia rolled away and
reached out to the right bedside table, then returned with
a jewelry box clad in shining red satin and topped with a
decorative red bow. The grinning psycho opened the box and
Alice beheld a shining steel collar or choker nestled in red
velvet padding. The metal necklace/torque had a somewhat
streamlined protrusion or bump-out on the front with a dully
glowing ruby light and a block of scan-code somehow affixed or
embedded. As neck accessories went, it was more
utilitarian than decorative, and while not being ugly, it was
hardly an elegant fashion accessory.
Lydia lifted the collar from the padding, set the box aside,
then opened the collar and positioned it around Alice's neck and
under her tousled blond curls. It closed with an
authoritative and clearly audible click.
Alice shook her head as Lydia returned the now empty red box to
the bedside table. The collar was, indeed, a choker, in
that it had a purposely tight fit, and it was heavy, but not too
Lydia rolled back and idly caressed the collar... then the side
of Alice's rubber-tubing-bit-gagged and caged face. "I
won't activate it 'til morning," she purred. "It looks very
Alice and Lydia locked eyes—captive and captor—slave and
mistress? I will never be a slave, Alice vowed, no
matter what you or your robots do to me! Also... what
the hell did she mean by 'activate?' The computer
code on the front of the choker suggested some sort of tracking
function. Was that what she meant? Once active it
would start keeping track of her whereabouts?
Lydia leaned close and kissed Alice squarely on her
rubber-bit-gagged mouth. "Goodnight, darling. Sleep
tight." And with that abhorrent pun, she rolled away and
(Alice assumed) closed her eyes.
Alice rolled onto her back, heaved a gagged sigh, and returned
to staring up at the ceiling... but the light was fading.
Not only were the various already subdued light sources
scattered around the bedroom growing even dimmer, but the
window-walls were slowly becoming opaque. Apparently,
Lydia's automated housekeeping system was experienced enough to
shift into nighttime mode without an explicit order... assuming
"Goodnight, darling," wasn't Lydia's usual instruction to turn
out the lights.
Alice's heart was still pounding as she lay on the
soft-but-not-too-soft bed in the growing darkness, next to her
kidnapper. She was naked, encased in a web of tight rubber
tubing, gagged, an allegedly "very pretty" steel collar locked
around her neck, and totally helpless.
I am so very screwed, Alice thought. Her no longer
tingling pussy agreed.
Eventually, despite everything that had happened and that Lydia
had promised would happen... Alice drifted off to a
troubled, exhausted sleep.
|TΛKΞN BY THΞ MΛCHINΞ
|| Chapter 6
came... or at least Edwina opened her eyes and decided several
hours had passed. In her windowless, subterranean cell she
had no opportunity to estimate the position of the sun above the
horizon or gather other relevant celestial data. In any
case, she'd been roused from her leather-constrained slumber by
the deployment of about a dozen of her old friends, Lydia's
technologically impressive but ill-mannered robot arms.
Edwina just managed not to scream through her leather gag (with
silicon-rubber stuffing) when numerous robo-arms lifted her into
the air and began releasing her from her leather leg-sheath
(including its narrow big-toe and foot straps and wider
ancillary ankle and knee straps). Next they released the
narrow Y-shaped labia-framing and butt-cleaving-strap that
joined the leg sheath to the corset-strap... followed by both
the wide corset-strap and the equally wide bra-strap formerly
framing her breasts and pinning her upper arms against her
sides... followed by the single-sleeve arm-binder itself
(including its ancillary wrist and elbow straps).
Finally, they removed the head-harness-gag and its rubber
mouth-plug. And as she was processing these events, the
tight, overlapping layers of the underlying arm-sheath of black
tape were unwound and removed as well.
Then, the formerly bound and gagged captive was lowered to the
padded floor and the robot arms withdrew back into their
alcoves, taking every scrap of her former bonds with them.
Edwina shakily climbed to her bare feet and took stock of her
situation. She was naked, except for the shock-collar
still locked around her neck, not gagged, and her hair was still
plaited in a long, tight, single-braid secured by a peculiar
(and tamper-proof) rubber end-sleeve (or retaining-tube or...
whatever). Anyway, she was still incarcerated in the same
off-white-fake-leather-padded "bedroom"/prison cell where she'd
spent the night (meaning the last several hours)—but was
That said (meaning thought), Edwina was hungry, thirsty, and her
skin flushed and creased by already fading red marks (here and
there), as well as sweaty and in need of a good wash.
Also, her muscles and joints were achy and sore. She
realized the latter complaint was a logical consequence of all
the recent bondage she'd endured.
Suddenly, the "bedroom" door whisked open and Edwina's
irritating little friend, the mini-robot with the red gumball
light on top, rolled across the threshold. It skidded to a
halt halfway to Edwina's bare toes, spun 180°, the gumball
flashed three time... shone a steady ruby-red... then the bot
slowly accelerated towards the open door.
Edwina heaved a silent, disgusted sigh (wary of being shocked by
her collar) and padded in her robotic guide's wake. At
least the system has decided I'm quick on the uptake and the
irritating synthetic voice isn't issuing any more unnecessary
They exited the padded bedroom and Edwina continued
following the mini-bot down the corridor. It felt really
good to be able to walk, swing her arms, swivel her hips,
point her feet, roll her shoulders, and toss her head (causing
her braid to sway)—and she did all these things as she stretched
and padded after her guide. However, she was still hungry
Their destination was a chamber with the now familiar vertical
steel panels. Also, it was clad in hexagonal ceramic tiles
and there was a large drain in the center of the floor.
The door whisked closed behind her—the mini-bot rolled across
the chamber, disappeared down a mini-bot-size tunnel, and the
tunnel door whisked closed. Then, several vertical panels
snapped open and the expected robot arms extended in her
Edwina heaved another sigh but didn't bother trying to resist as
her wrists, ankles, limbs, and torso were seized and she was
lifted off her bare feet and held in midair. Oh
bother! she silently fumed. Again?
Over the course of the next several minutes her body was
positioned... repositioned... then repositioned again as
several things happened one after the other; specifically:
1. A clear plastic face-mask was clamped over
and into her mouth. It included a perforated mouth-plug
generous enough to prop her jaws open and the mask formed a
watertight seal over her lower face. Then, one of two
attached flexible hoses shook and cool water pulsed through
the plug, flooding her mouth. The system was quenching
her thirst! This was a good thing, of course, and Edwina
cooperated by sucking on the plug and swallowing. The
flow was carefully regulated and there was never any question
of her choking and/or aspirating water. The hydration
system was well designed... like everything else in Lydia's
Finally, the bath routine having apparently reached the exit
conditions of its loop, the system deposited Edwina's bare feet
on the wet tile floor and released her. She was now
totally naked and dripping wet from head to toe, of course,
including her still braided hair—but not for long. The
dozen or more robot arms were still dancing around her body,
maintaining a uniform distance of about a foot as they weaved
through the air, but their attached nozzles were blowing hot,
dry air. She had to admit the
brush-nozzle-thingamabob-arm-attachments were really quire
remarkable. They were water-nozzle, scrub-brush,
soap-dispenser, and blow-dryer, all in one. A
technological triumph. Edwina slowly turned in place with
her arms raised, letting the multi-source, ever-moving sirocco
play across her body. Why not? The better the access
to her glistening skin, the sooner she'd be dry. And
eventually... she was... meaning dry.
2. The water stopped, there was a brief pause, then the
second hose pulsed and delivered globs of porridge-like,
semi-solid food (at least Edwina assumed it was food)
to her mouth. Again, the system was well designed and
Edwina didn't gag on her "breakfast." Fortunately, the
repast had a nutty, oatmeal-like flavor with a hint of fruit;
peach, or maybe peach and apricot. Motivated by hunger and
a desire to not have her mouth and throat packed solid,
Edwina regularly swallowed, which the rubber plug's functional
design allowed. It was another triumph of automated food
service technology. The gorp was followed by a few
pulses of water, rinsing Edwina mouth... then the mask, hoses,
and mouth-plug withdrew.
3. Immediately another "mask" molded itself to her
crotch! (Or maybe it was best described as a
vacuum-sealed "saddle.") Edwina's eyes popped wide as a
catheter snaked into her urethra, a pulsing suction began, and
she was both encouraged and required to empty her
bladder. This checked off a third item on her list of
4. Unfortunately (or inevitably) the catheter withdrew
and a second, slightly more generous probe slid into
her anus and past her sphincter! Warm water pulsed...
and Edwina received an involuntary enema! Fluid passed
in and out of her gut a total of three times, with
carefully regulated volumes and intervals between pulses and
sucking evacuations. More good design, and it was
infuriating! Edwina realized what was happening:
the system was testing its ability to handle the physical
needs of a totally uncooperative subject. Would Edwina
have been perfectly willing to see to her own hydration,
nutrition, and elimination needs? Of course, but Lydia
had her prisoner-handling research program, needed data, and
didn't care. It was humiliating, infuriating, and... ill-mannered.
5. The crotch-saddle withdrew as an additional pair of
arms extended and clamped onto the hated shock-collar.
It clicked open and the arms withdrew, taking the collar with
them! But before Edwina could celebrate, a dozen arms
approached her helpless, suspended body, and each terminated
in a circular brush with an attached hose! Inches from
her body, the brushes began to spin and modest volumes of warm
water began to spraying from within! Then, the brushes
made contact with her skin—all of her skin—including
her toes and feet, legs, crotch, hips and rump, waist and
abdomen, ribs, armpits, arms, fingers and hands, breasts,
shoulders, neck, face, and ears! And they were moving,
dragging the spinning brushes and gurgling water across her
anatomy—all of her anatomy—and while the bristles were
gentle, they tickled! Edwina squirmed,
struggled, and did her best to evade the scrubbing titilation,
but they were everywhere! She had no choice but
to giggle, whine, and squeal, and thankfully her vocalizations
went unpunished as the shock-collar was now absent!
6. The initial rinse and scrubbing complete, the
brush-heads began emitting some sort of floral-scented
bodywash and Edwina was quickly enveloped in a bubbling,
dripping coating of white suds, from head to toe!
Fortunately, the soap didn't irritate her eyes, but it did
have a rather bitter taste. She kept her lips
tightly pressed together as best she could as she squirmed and
fought her robot handlers. The
cleansing-massage-tickling assault continued.
7. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
The arms withdrew into their alcoves and most of their steel
panels snapped closed; however, a few remained open while
machine noises emanated from within. Edwina surmised the
arms were changing attachments.
The arms that had captured and held her in midair remained
poised all around her, their ominous prisoner-handling padded
pincer-clamp attachments open and ready to capture and control
her again—and then they did! Servo-motors whined, the arms
extended, and in a coordinated attack too fast to evade, the
clamps/manipulators grabbed Edwina's wrists, ankles, and other
strategic parts of her anatomy, and once again lifted her into
"No! Stop! This is unnecessary!
The capture-arms in particular and the system in general ignored
Edwina's frustrated and angry demands. Meanwhile, the
half-dozen former scrubber/blow-dryer arms had reappeared and
were extending in Edwina's wiggling, squirming direction.
"Ekk! N-no!" One of the arms clamped around
Edwina's neck and held it steady, more-or-less like a steel
posture collar. Other arms began... doing something to her
"I told you no!" Edwina objected. "Enough is
Apparently, the thick, wide collar-clamp immobilizing Edwina's
had a provision for stifling criticism. A pair of
articulated steel attachments had deployed from somewhere on the
collar-clamps, slid between Edwina's lips, and forced her jaws
open wide enough to allow the entry of a stainless steel bit-gag
with a silicon-rubber mouth-plug (with incorporated
bite-protectors) attached. The attachments withdrew, but a
bit and plug remained. "Mrrrf!" Once again, Edwina
was gagged. "Nrrrm!" And her head remained
Meanwhile, what had turned into a robotic hairdressing
appointment continued. Edwina's brown curls were unraveled
and gently brushed, combed, divided, and... rearranged.
When the last strand was dealt with, once again Edwina was
sporting a single braid, but it was a far more complex braid
that the tight, simple version she'd worn before. A pair
of thin, tight, narrow braids that would otherwise have dangled
to either side and framed her face were pulled back and
intertwined with a much looser French braid incorporating the
bulk of her hair. The entire coif was secured by another
natural rubber retraining sleeve.
Edwina knew this because while the hairdressing arms and
capture/handling arms had withdrawn (including the collar-clamp
and its bit-gag-with-plug), they'd been replaced by a single
robot arm terminating in a small flat-screen monitor that
hovered in front of her frowning face.
Actually, the monitor was a "magic mirror" that was displaying
the back of her head, rather than her face. Obviously,
somewhere behind her a camera was supplying the image... either
that or the display itself was a photo-realistic
computer-generated simulation. It didn't really matter,
other than it gave Edwina a chance to examine (and begrudgingly
admire) her new coif. Also begrudgingly, she felt her
anger ratchet down a notch. It would seem not even Dr.
Lydia Aelios was sufficiently cruel to have her robots to do
something elaborate to Edwina's hair without showing her the
So... Edwina was now completely nude from head to toes, not
bound, not gagged, and without the hated
shock-collar. Also, she had an arguably pretty new hairdo
that was attractive, insured her hair would remain out of her
face, and (entirely by coincidence, of course) would minimize
handling complications for her cybernetic jailers. That
said... she was still angry, humiliated, and more than ever
resolved to correct the current situation.
The monitor/magic-mirror went blank and the robo-arm withdrew
into its alcove. Edwina focused on infinity, balled her
hands into tight fists at her sides, and shouted into
the otherwise empty chamber.
"Lydia! Lydia Aelios! Show your face, you barmy nutter!
I have a few choice words for you!"
Edwina was just winding up, but was interrupted by the hum of
servo-motors and the return of the robo-capture-arms.
"No! Stay away! Let me go! Let me go immediately!
MRRRF!" Once again Edwina was lifted into the air, and
once again, things were happening to her. "NRRRM!"
Finally, she was returned to her bare feet, released, the robot
arms returned to their alcoves, and the panels slammed shut.
Edwina was still naked; however, she'd been accessorized.
Her wrists were crossed behind her back and tightly bound using
a generous length of the now familiar translucent amber
synthetic rubber tubing, and the bindings were intricate and
complex... like her pretty new braid. She could roll her
shoulders and tug on the interwoven elastic strands, but as
always with Lydia's rubber tubing bondage, there were no visible
knots or joined ends, nothing for her fluttering fingers to
untie or release, even if they could reach her bonds.
Also—"Mrrrmpfh!"—a wide strip of off-white tape was now
plastered over her lips and lower face from nose to chin and ear
to ear. A tape-gag. Another of Lydia's greatest
hits. It was infuriating.
Edwina stamped her bare feet, continued mewling
complaints—"Mrrmfff!"—and generally threw a naked, bound, and
gagged tantrum. (There was method to her madness.
Edwina was genuinely angry, but if Lydia wasn't watching her
live, at some point her captor would probably view a replay, and
Edwina wanted and needed to attract her captor's
Just then, the cover of the mini-robot tunnel popped open and
her little friend with the red gumball-light reappeared.
It rolled to the chamber door and the door whisked open,
revealing the corridor beyond. Then, the mini-bot spun on
its wheels and "faced" Edwina.
Edwina glowered at the mini-bot.
The mini-bot "stared" at Edwina.
The bot's red gumball flashed three times... then took on a
steady ruby-red glow. Simultaneously, the bot spun back
towards the door, paused... then rolled into the corridor at a
slow walking pace.
That was Edwina's cue to submissively follow her robo-guide to
whatever atrocity was next on Lydia's list of
Things-to-do-to-Poor-Edwina, of course. However...
Hah! The shock-collar was no longer around Edwina's
neck! She assumed the collar was plugged in
somewhere and being recharged, but wherever it was, it wasn't
poised to zap her larynx and compel her obedience! (Later,
Edwina realized she should have known better.)
Its red light still glowing, several tiny hatches or doors
snapped open on the mini-bot's sides and disgorged a dozen or
more... flying insects? The things resembled a cross
between a large hornet and a small dragonfly. Their
gossamer wings were a buzzing blur, and their bodies were
covered in alternating stripes of gloss-black and
Edwina watched with growing apprehension as the cloud of
hornet-dragonflies buzzed around her gagged head—and they were
now close enough for her to see that they were actually tiny
robots and not some form of mutant insect.
Meanwhile, its gumball-light still glowing red, the mini-bot
continued rolling away. Defiant and determined, Edwina
held her ground and refused to follow—"MRRRK!"—right up to the
point when one of the insect-drones darted in and delivered an
electrical sting to her left butt cheek! The pain
was more-or-less on par with the punishment delivered by the
absent shock-collar! And then—"MRRRF!"—a second drone
delivered additional motivation to obey the system's
"reasonable" requests by zapping her right
nipple! Edwina shivered, squirmed, and tugged on her bound
wrists in reaction, but knew there was no way she could
protect herself from the swarm, not even if she wasn't bound.
Okay, okay, I can take a hint! Edwina scampered
across the threshold and after the mini-bot, then slowed to a
matching pace and obediently (but still defiantly) padded in its
wake. The drones continued buzzing around her in a
weaving, coordinated cloud, easily matching her padding steps.
So, Edwina realized, the absence of the obedience collar
isn't a program flaw after all. This is another
test. The 'insects' are an alternative
technology for compelling obedience and controlling my
behavior—and the damnable things are working! Edwina's
spirit was unbroken, but that hardly mattered. Pain was
pain. Not wanting to be zapped by Lydia's robo-hornets,
Edwina was the very picture of naked, bound, and tape-gagged
|TΛKΞN BY THΞ MΛCHINΞ
|| Chapter 6
decided to take a break, play hooky from her self-imposed
research and business responsibilities, and bask in the fruition
of her grand vision: the capture of her beloved Alice.
And speaking of basking...
After waking up and giving Alice a good morning kiss on her
smooth, tan, (slightly sweaty) forehead, Lydia padded into the
master bath and preformed her morning toilette, including a
luxurious shower. Then, as she'd already decided to take
the day off, she donned a very skimpy white satin string
bikini. Thus suitably dressed (or almost dressed),
she enjoyed her usual modest gourmet breakfast prepared by her
While all of this was happening, a pair of mobile
handling/capture-bots had trundled into the bedroom, lifted
Alice's naked, elaborately rubber-tubing-bound,
rubber-tubing-gagged, wiggling, squirming, and mewling form from
the rumpled bed and carried her away. The steel
obedience-collar was locked around her throat but apparently
still hadn't been activated, and as Lydia hadn't explained its
function, Alice thought it was just a highly questionable
fashion choice on Lydia's part. She felt "free" to force rude
comments through her gag—"Mrrrrrmpfh!"—and did so.
While Lydia was seeing to her own needs up in the master
bedroom's attached bath (with minor robotic assistance), Alice's
hydration, nutritional, and waste elimination needs were
satisfied in a tiled chamber down below (with major robotic
intervention). That is, a hose pumped cool water into her
mouth to satisfy her thirst—another hose pumped dollops of
semi-solid nutritional gorp into the same orifice to fill her
tummy—a robot-controlled catheter-tentacle emptied her
bladder!—"MRRRF!"—then a somewhat larger tentacle gave her a
thorough enema! "MRRRRRM!"
Needless to say, none of this made Alice very happy and she did
not cooperate, but her attitude was largely
irrelevant. The robo-arms easily controlled her struggles
and their modular attachments performed their specialized tasks
without significant difficulty.
The system also removed Alice's rubber-tubing-bonds and gave her
a thorough external cleaning, similar to the watery,
soapy, and scrub-a-dub ordeal Edwina had "enjoyed" in a
Finally, her hair was clean, dry, and coiled into a tight bun
enforced by a taut amber-rubber net. Her body wasn't bound
in any way (not counting her steel collar); however, her wrists
and ankles were still firmly clamped in the capture-bots' padded
manipulators and she was stretched in a semi-stringent
spread-eagle across the rectangular top surfaces of the joined
bodies of the two mobile capture-bots. "Mrrrf!" She
was also tape-gagged.
Alice tugged and kicked (or tried to) as she was transported
back up to Lydia's bedroom suite and out onto the generous deck
overlooking the surrounding chaparral-clad hills and the distant
Pacific. It was a largely cloud-free morning and the sun
was warm on her naked body as her handlers rolled to a
double-wide lounge-chair (or chaise-lounge, or possibly day-bed)
covered in white linen. She complained—"Mrrr!"— when the
manipulators holding her wrists and ankles lifted her into the
air and placed her onto the slightly canted-above-the-horizontal
rectangular slab. Next, things happened at her wrists and
ankles, the capture/handling robots' arms withdrew, then the
robots themselves folded their arms flat against their sides,
trundled away several feet, and went dormant.
Alice found herself spreadeagled on the padded white
surface. Her wrists and ankles were captured in interwoven
cuffs of the now ubiquitous amber-rubber tubing and somehow
affixed to the four corners. She squirmed and twisted but
found her new bonds to be just as struggle-proof and inescapable
as the capture-bots' padded manipulator-clamps. So... she
was staked out under the morning sun... naked, collared, and
tape-gagged, with her blond locks coiled and captured in a tight
Oh-by-the-way, Alice's hostess/captor/insane-girlfriend was also
present, comfortably reclined on a nearby lounge chair, wearing
a white bikini (a very skimpy white bikini), a pair of
designer sunglasses, and sipping on a no doubt refreshing mixed
drink in a tall tumbler with ice and a fruit garnish.
Lydia's long brown curls were loose about her shoulders and
framed her smiling face as she gazed at Alice through the dark
Alice sullenly glowered back and continued testing her
inescapable semi-elastic bonds... then watched as Lydia set her
drink on a side-table, picked up a small plastic jar, stood,
gracefully padded the half-dozen steps to Alice's comfy
platform/slab... then sat on the edge, even with her prisoner's
left hip and waist.
Alice continued watching as Lydia opened the jar, dipped her
right fingers into the milky paste within, then began rubbing
the stuff on her left breast—meaning Alice's left
breast. Her nostrils flared above her tape-gag. Cocoa
butter. It's cocoa butter. "Mrrrm!" she
complained, staring daggers as the unwanted oily boob-massage
"Don't be ungrateful, darling," Lydia purred as she enlarged her
efforts and applied a thorough coating of the fragrant,
semi-fluid paste to Alice's right breast, chest, shoulders, and
armpits, taking her time and working it in. "This will
moisturize your luscious skin and help keep you from burning...
within limits." Lydia was quite through, making sure every
available square inch of Alice below the shock-collar and not
pressed into the slab's linen padding was anointed and
massaged. This required the grinning brunette to regularly
change her position, of course, but eventually Alice's toes,
feet, legs, thighs, tummy, pussy, abdomen, ribs, arms, hands, and
fluttering fingers had received attention.
"Hmm... I'm afraid your nails are a little long and require
trimming, darling." Lydia purred. "You might inadvertently
scratch someone." She glanced down at her shining
"girlfriend's" feet. "That includes your toenails, of
course. Not to worry. I have specialized mani-pedi
robots designed for that very purpose. "Hold still,
darling," she ordered, then began carefully applying cocoa
butter to Alice's ears, neck, and all of her face not covered by
the choker-collar or tape-gag. She was careful to avoid
Alices's pale-blue, clearly angry eyes.
Alice did, indeed, hold her head immobile for the sake of said
eyes. But she was not happy. Glistening
from head to toe? Yes. But not happy.
"Now, pay close attention, darling," Lydia said as she used a
small towel to wipe her fingers and hands. "You collar is
more than a pretty ornament." She lifted a small
tablet-computer from the side-table, tapped and flicked her way
through its menus, smiled, and gave the screen a final
stab. "There." She locked eyes with her naked,
glistening, spreadeagled girlfriend/prisoner. "From now
on, and unless I instruct the system otherwise, for every
vocalization you try and make, voluntary or otherwise... you
will suffer serious chastisement." She reached
out and teased back a corner of Alice's tape-gag, then slowly
peeled it away.
Alice's lips and lower face were pulled and stretched as the
tape surrendered its adhesive grip. She continued
glowering at Lydia's dark glasses as this happened... then the
tape was gone. Alice licked her lips and swallowed.
"Go ahead and give it a test," Lydia suggested (ordered).
Alice continued staring.
"Oh, very well," Lydia chuckled. "If you insist."
She reached out, took Alice's left nipple between the thumb and
forefinger of her right hand, and gave it a firm and inevitably
"Ahh-URRRK!" Alice squeezed her blue eyes tightly
closed and froze in her bonds. The collar had
delivered a painful shock to her larynx! It had paralyzed
her throat muscles and was at least twice as painful as Lydia's
nipple-pinch! She had no choice but to agree the collar very
strong motivation to keep silent.
"There, you see?" Lydia grinned. "Silence is golden... as
well as mandatory, unless I tell you different."
She leaned close, delicately applied cocoa butter to the now
exposed parts of Alice's frowning, pouting, and clearly angry
lower face... then replaced the jar's lid and used the towel
to once again clean her fingers.
Alice stared at the distant hills and tugged on her bonds in
irritation. She was naked, helpless, and still effectively
gagged, not physically but by her desire to avoid pain. It
was humiliating and infuriating... and she could do
nothing about it.
"Now," Lydia said as she turned and padded back to her lounge
chair, "let's enjoy the morning while you do your all-over-tan
maintenance. Don't worry, the system won't let you
burn. My robots will flip you over when your front is
done. You'll get full coverage." She
pointed up. "And a canvas sunscreen will automatically
deploy when your total exposure time is up."
Alice tugged on her bonds, again, then closed her eyes.
Staring into the sun is never a good idea, even when you aren't
naked, shining with cocoa butter, and staked out.
"And don't worry about our privacy," Lydia continued. "I
own this entire area, nearly to the horizon in every direction,
and it's all monitored by ground sensors, strategically placed
cameras, and above all, my security software. There's even
a active drone defense system with focused jamming to knock them
out and, when all else fails, machine-shotguns to blow them
out of the sky. You see, I also have a paparazzi
problem. I may not be an actress like you, darling, but I
am one of the richest people on the planet." She retrieved
her drink and took a sip. "Anyway... not to worry."
The idea of being rescued by prying paparazzi hadn't even
occurred to Alice, but now even that astronomically remote
scenario was off the table. I am well and truly
screwed, she silently sighed, and continued baking in the
increasingly hot morning sun.
Minutes passed. Lydia finished her drink. Alice
occasionally squirmed for comfort, weakly tugging on her bonds,
and sweat began mingling with her uniform lustrous coating of
|TΛKΞN BY THΞ MΛCHINΞ