Dolphin's Misadventure

His words continued, suddenly mellow in a way that only a computer could make his voice.

"After all, my readings suggest that you're enjoying yourself there, so why not enjoy yourself some more? Give in; have your pleasure deliberately, instead of this tiresome fighting against the inevitable. You seem to have been enjoying yourself; from your performance in front of my guards, I'd say that you have even been longing for a man inside you. But no; you continue to resist me, and approach a climax not of your making.

"But no! Who am I to complain? After all, it will be a simply wonderful sight. Imagine the pleasure swelling until you can no longer resist, finally you succumb. A low groan of abject submission escapes your lips. Wetness appears at your nipples and crotch. You bite down hard as waves of pleasure overwhelm you. Your body jerks and heaves involuntarily as the peak consumes you mercilessly! Then, covered in sweat, you lie limp in your bindings, the last spasms of your humiliation quake through you and it begins anew, each time the same, each time more and more under my control."

Damn him! The vividness of the picture he was painting drove me to another silent orgasm, but this one the most wretched and debasing of them all, because he personally had instigated it while I was resisting him.

I wept with frustration, but could do nothing about it. Sobs wracked my whole body, but the merciless Mortis did nothing. I was finally broken. With the pacifiers and orgasmafield generators continuing their remorseless work upon my shattered body, I pleaded for him to take me, I expressed my eternal subservience and my desire for him to ravish my body, to take me and dominate me and do what he wished.

Alas, knowing how complete his victory would be if he left it just a little while longer, Mr. Mortis had gone. But so too had my bonds, and I no longer had the total, immovable confinement that had given me satisfaction from the subtly insistent ministrations of the machines that clung to my heaving, sweat-slick flesh.

Desperate for release, I reached down between my legs and began to stroke myself. Writhing against the table, I nurtured my pleasure like a small campfire. The flame responded, and soon a bright glow filled my loins. It felt so good, but it wouldn't rest until it found its full release.

It wasn't long before the flame had grown into a raging furnace between my legs. My bottom squirmed and my legs flailed and kicked, until finally the pleasure began to crest and peak...

Suddenly the pleasure exploded in a mighty blast, sending a powerful quake through my body, and creating a wave of indescribably intense sparkling joy which washed over every nerve in my body, bathing me in its merciful light!

As the tide crashed and then slowly receded, the sparkling sensations lingered and were joined by a warm wet glow emanating from between my legs. The combined sensations were divine, and my mind became lost in the pleasure. Unable to process the intensity of the sensations, my mind simply melted, and surrendered to the waves of glowing pleasure. Somehow, in my fading mind, unconsciousness and the pleasure became one and the same. As I surrendered myself to the pleasure, I surrendered myself to oblivion.

I hardly noticed, as I slipped under, that Mortis' victory was now complete. The pacifiers and orgasmafield generators had slipped off my body, no longer working, even before his voice had ceased. It had not been their effects after all that had driven me over the edge once again, but my own loosed and raging libido. I had lost entirely, and now not only was I crushed in spirit but in body, and responded to shame, humiliation, control and degradation in the same way I used to respond to love.

My final resistance had been the key to my final defeat.

Chapter 8: Slavery Awaits

Mortis, my master, who has control over my most innermost thoughts, has returned to me. He has returned me to each of the machines on which my will was broken, starting with the room in which his guards ravished me. Again they returned, but this time I welcome them with open legs and open lips, and each one came within me and each time one came, so did I. My lips nether and fore were stretched by their enhanced cocks, and the salt-sweet taste of their cum filled my throat again and again.

Each time Mortis would return and carry me to the next location, patting and groping my perfectly upturned ass shamelessly. Between sessions he left me tightly bound, presenting such a neat package that he would be unable to resist the temptation to grope my helpless nubile form. I squirmed in mock resistance for him, my feminine whimpers enhancing the experience. Eventually I grew tired of the machines and wanted to be taken by a real man again, but it was his will that I was to travel the full path of my submission before once again he entered me with first his tongue, then his fingers, then his fist and then his cock, even larger than his fist. The relaxation necessary to enable him to slide inside me left me so weak that I could barely even move to squirm beneath him.

But squirm I did, humping with abandon, coming and coming in his arms. Finally, exhausted, I collapsed, covered in a mix of both our sexual juices. Driven wild by the sight of a helpless unconscious heroine, he took advantage of the situation to massage every inch of my torpid form at length. As I lay in my after-glow stupor, he smoothed aphrodisiac oils into my naked ass and bullet-shaped breasts. My moans of semi-conscious acquiescence especially exited her, and soon he once again covered me in streams of his thick white cum.

Chapter 9: Public Display

When I awoke, lying in my cell with the bowl of water by my head, a guard entered and informed me that I was to be paraded in front of Mortis' other conquests. I stood meekly as my hands were tied behind my back, a ball-gag was inserted in my mouth and thick leather straps were used to bind my arms tightly to my side, and my breasts to stop them bouncing. I was surprised when they added more straps around my thighs, the flesh squeezing out between them, but accepted it as Mortis' will.

The guard threw me over his strong shoulder and carried me for what seemed like half an hour through corridors in the ship until we entered out upon the stage of a small arena filled with women.

They were all lying on wide couches curved slightly to stop them rolling off. They were all wearing panties, but some had their breasts uncovered, usually so that devices could be more easily attached to their nipples. Some of them had stimulaser barrels pointed at their crotches, some had bulges as of inserted dildos under their panties, some were wearing orgasmic pacification devices, some had orgasmafield generators planted about their bodies. All of them were in some way being stimulated by machines. All of them were moaning sensuously, a sound that spread out in an aural blanket of steamy eroticism, making my nipples hard, my thighs wet and my mind swirl with desire.

Mortis was awaiting me on the stage, smiling lasciviously. His smile grew broad as he saw me carried in and deposited on an almost upright rack facing the rest of the women.

As I scan their faces I see that most of them were the women kidnapped in the month before Shark and I arrived to hunt for them.

Mortis turned to the auditorium and raised his arms. Suddenly, the air is filled with the anguished sounds of a large group of women denied stimulation in the middle of a rising orgasm.

Eyes focus, unsteadily, and then breath as one in ecstasy as they recognise their master standing before them. I can feel their eyes pass to me, and ask the hungry question Who is she? And will I be allowed to play with her while my master watches?

Mortis slowly lowers his arms, capturing their complete attention. "My slaves," He said in a voice that dripped honey, " We have a new member of our stable. She came as a heroine, trying to rescue you. Do you want to be rescued, my dears?"

There was a rising wail of denial, each woman begging to be allowed to stay, to be allowed to serve Mortis for all time. The sound of lust in the room made my head spin, and I nearly blacked out.

When I could focus again, Mortis had shed his cloak and was slowly unbuckling his suit. The silence was a palpable thing, until Mortis himself cleared his throat. "Remove her bindings," he said to the guards, "And chain her again spread-eagled."

Slowly the guards lowered the rack until it was not far from horizontal. They removed the leather straps, making me feel more naked than I had before and, taking firm hold of my wrists and ankles, spread me out so that my legs and my arms were stretched towards the corners of the rack and I was held taut in the middle.

Slowly, from the auditorium, comes the rustling sound of women expectantly shifting position. This, I realise, they must have seen before, as each one of them went through the same process. The fact that I was not special in my treatment made me feel grateful, rather than demeaned; I could not be any longer demeaned, but only aroused.

Mortis slowly stripped, his massive cock near full aroused, and then stepped between my legs, the rack retracting to allow him access. I sighed and closed my eyes, but he did not slide straight inside me; instead, he rubbed the head over my lips and then slowly rubbed himself until, with me twisting in despair beneath him, he shot his cum over me, what felt like a gallon of hot, thick, sticky fluid splashing onto my belly, my breasts, my nipples, my throat and my face. He moaned in satisfaction and the sensation was enough to make me join him in cumming, spraying my own juices out onto his legs, so strong has my orgasm become since he started teaching me in the first days of my training.

He turned towards the guards. "Pick three," he told them, and within seconds three of the women from the auditorium were selected and, unchained, eagerly ran onto stage, each of them possessed of orgasmafield generators on their thighs and breasts.

As one bent down before Mortis to clean him with her tongue of any sexual fluid, from either one of us, the other two bent over me to give me the same task. Their orgasmafield generators were still turned on, and as the fields washed over me I started to orgasm again, their insistent, demanding tongues spurring me on towards ever more bursts of intense white-hot pleasure ripping through my stretched-taut body.

When the women had done their work and left, not without paying lingering attention to my nipples and to the hairless cleft between my legs, Mortis had dressed again and was standing tall and noble with his cape about him.

He tipped his head towards me, and began to speak.

"Dolphin! You have become the newest member of my harem, and there are privileges that go with your position. But there are also duties, and one of them is to become, in turn, the plaything of my guards. That will start now, and continue for the next week until you will return to my bed."

Whatever my master wanted pleased me, and so I waited in delighted anticipation for the first guard to approach me.

Then, unexpectedly, as Mortis was raising his hand to beckon towards the first of my partners, his head exploded in a gout of blood and flame.

Suddenly, vividly, my mind was swamped by the image of Shark's death at the hand of the harpoon, and over and over again I saw it played out, but this time with no orgasmic accompaniment, no enforced pleasure or even remembered thrill; instead I saw his armour part like water, the blood spray with a vividness unlike Mortis' head, and his expression not change under his mask as he was thrown backwards, feet somehow absurdly unmoved by the force of his movement.

They had faked the footage. They had created an artificial tape and shown it to me in order to break my spirit, and they had succeeded, but they had not counted on Shark returning for me. Battling his way through the guards, confronted with ever-increasing weaponry, he had eventually been forced to return to the ship, and had then been forced to leave without me. But he had returned, and this time won through.

Suddenly my vision cleared, and I was back in the auditorium, tied naked to a rack. The bindings abruptly released, I hit the deck in a defensive posture, my old instincts returned in full, and I vomited at the thought of my delight of Mortis. My uniform and weapons landed beside me, and above me I heard the most beautiful voice in the world say "Dress. We'll be leaving now."

Looking up, tears in my eyes, I saw the guards splayed about the room nonliving, the women in the auditorium sobbing, the shock unchaining them from Mortis' brain-washing and restoring them to health, and not a single piece of machinery working. Above us, emergency lighting burned dimly. My lover had shorted out the entire ship in order to get to me.

Chapter 10: Joyful Homecoming

I reclined in my co-pilot's chair on board our hidden fortress, strapped down with ropes around my wrists behind me and by broad leather straps around my belly, and my breasts so that each one was compressed from top and bottom and bulging forward, erect nipples proudly high above my chest.

We had taken advantage of all the bondage training that Mr Mortis had given me, and Shark had bound me in various positions, and tormented me with hand-held stimulasers, and groped and caressed and fondled me until we were both so mad with desire that we couldn't stand it any longer. Then I had begged him until even his iron will had been unable to resist, and he had quickly bound me anew to my chair and plunged his entire hand into my pussy, stretching me, if possible, even more than the gigantic cocks of the genetically engineered guards had done, pumping in and out until I had cum with a mind-shattering orgasm, my scream of pleasure reverberating throughout the entire fortress.

Then my beloved Shark had unstrapped me from the chair but left my arms bound and, naked, lain back in his captain's chair and pulled me on top of him, spearing me on the gigantic cock that nature had blessed him with. I writhed on top of him, impaled, gasping with lust and head-spinning arousal. There wasn't room for my legs on either side of him in the chair so without the use of my arms I could not ride him as I wished, and was helpless as he controlled my petite body with his sturdy, muscular arms and large hands, squeezing my breasts as I panted helplessly, pulling me up and down on his mighty shaft and teasing me mercilessly until I pleaded him for release, and when he gave it to me he also came inside me like a rocket, almost lifting me off him with the force of his cum, driving my orgasm even higher until I collapsed on top of him and knew no more.

It seemed that there might be something we had to thank Mr Mortis for after all!