Experiment 239 Ch. 09

Mason strokes his chin, deep in thought. "James, huh? That would've been the last person I'd expect. What was he doing with his access?"

"He was... tweaking Experiment 239's variable values, Master."

"He... what??? Is that all??"

She bit down on her lip to hide the full-fledged giggle that was threatening to overcome her. "Yes, Master. He... ummm... I think he was using her as a masturbatory tool. He made things a bit tighter and more difficult for her, and introduced a new element - a shock in her buttplug. That was what alerted me to the unauthorized access. Then 30 seconds later he shut everything down."

Deep laughter rang out through the study as Mason threw his head back, guffawing for a good minute. Finally, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, he patted Karen on the head. "Good girl. And the second incidence?"

Karen sobered. "Anthony... he has brought Sophie to the cryo labs, Master. They entered Experiment 239's chamber. I caught them on the camera."

To her surprise, Mason did not seem at all taken aback by this. In fact, he smiled. "Excellent. I gave him access shortly after the Christmas party."

She blinked, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. "You... what?" Then, catching herself, she bowed her head deeply. "I am sorry, Master. I should not have questioned you."

He smiled benevolently at her. "It's alright. Do you know what the outcome of the visit was?"

She shook her head. "Neither of them have been back down there ever since, Master. And they are on leave for two weeks."

He stroked her long, straight, platinum-blond hair, nodding thoughtfully to himself. "Hmm. We'll see what becomes of that. Do you have anything else to report, slave?"

"No, Master."

"Very well. Go up to bed and wait for me in position 4."

She rose to her feet, curtseyed lightly, and slipped out as noiselessly as she had come.

***

Trapped in her cage, removed from all daily routine, Elaida had lost all sense of time. Had she been here for a day, a week, a month? Did it matter?

There was nothing else in the world except for the cold steel bars around her, the cocks stuffed within her dripping holes, the liquid feed that occasionally spurted down her throat from the monstrous penis gag in her mouth. She did not need to perform any more, there were no indicators of progress. She just "was".

In the wide expanse of time that seemed to stretch on and on, she found images flitting through her mind - incomprehensible bits and pieces at first, and then more lucid stretches of memory...

***

It was a warm Saturday afternoon, and a 18-year-old Elaida was pacing around her small student apartment, one of the many nondescript rooms assigned to the freshmen of the large college she attended. She was meeting Larry in an hour, and she could not decide what to wear.

She paused in front of her cramped wardrobe, flipping through the small but carefully-arranged set of clothes that she owned. There was that sexy little black dress, that she'd bought just for an occasion like this - it would hug her slight frame, show off her shoulders, and cover just enough of her butt for her to not be arrested for indecency.

But it didn't feel like her.

A wave of anticipation rippled through her body, making her skin tingle and raising goosebumps despite the warm weather. She folded her arms over her chest, brushing against the lacy material of her new bra and panty set. So what if it didn't feel like her? What was wrong with being someone else, just for one evening?

After all, "herself" had never been with a boy, had never had sex. Never experienced the many fantasies that she masturbated to on a daily basis.

Not in real life, anyway. In real life, she was Elaida, the girl at the top of her class, the girl who worked in the library to pay her school fees. The girl who was going to be a teacher in a few years' time, and a damned good one at that.

But tonight? Tonight, she could be whomever she wanted to be.

She slipped the dress off the hanger, pulled it over her head. She swore it must've shrunk since she'd bought it - if she pulled the top of the dress up high enough to cover her boobs, the bottom of the dress teetered on the verge of exposing her buttcrack.

There was no way she would ever go out like that. Except, she wasn't going out. No one would be seeing her besides Larry. Setting her chin in determination, she pushed her carefully-styled hair behind her shoulders, exposing her cleavage in all its glory - or at least, as much cleavage as a push-up bra applied to B-cup breasts could possibly obtain.

She was unaccustomed to putting on makeup, but she tried anyway, drawing and re-drawing her eyeliner until she eventually gave up and opted for a light look with some lipstick. Then she put her shoes on.

They were strappy sandals with a 4-inch stiletto heel, the straps working their way over her small feet and up her calves, stopping just below her knees. She felt like the hottest girl in the room in them, but there was a little problem - she was barely able to walk without gripping her dressing table.

"Told you you should've practiced walking in these things. Way to go, Elaida," she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes.

She caught sight of the time mid-roll. 4.30pm! Larry was arriving in 30 minutes and she wasn't even sure if she could make it to the door unassisted to open it. She stumbled around her room in her heels for the next 20 minutes, eventually getting practiced enough to at least walk slowly without hanging on to support for dear life.

The doorbell rang.

Shit, he was early! She began to walk to the door to open it, then stopped short. Her apartment was on the main street, and it was Saturday. Larry would most certainly NOT be the only person to see her if she answered the door in this.

Awkwardly, she minced her way over to the coat stand, grabbed her knee-length trench coat and pulled it on, tightening the belt.

The doorbell rang again.

Shit, shit, shit. "I'm coming!" she called out, then winced at the unintended innuendo. Cursing under her breath, she minced her way back over to the door and opened it.

Larry was standing outside, and he looked exactly like the pictures he had sent her. He was tall, a head taller than her even with her heels on, and muscular, and his eyes were warm and kind and his lips looked like they were carved by the gods.

He was also frowning a little. "Hey... Ellie? Are you... cold?"

Elaida blinked. "I... cold... wha-?" she stammered.

He laughed, his eyes twinkling. "Well, you're kinda... wearing a coat. In 90 degrees."

She flushed all the way to the tips of her ears. "I... ahhh. Why don't you, uh, come in first?"

Larry obliged, and she shut the door behind him. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was getting goosebumps all over again.

Shit, shit, shit. This wasn't going as she'd planned at all.

She cleared her throat and started fumbling with the belt. "Well, it was really busy outside. And uhh, I kinda..."

The belt finally opened with a yank, and the loose coat fell off her shoulders and tumbled clumsily to the floor. "Oh, shit."

His eyes widened. "Wow."

She was positive that her face was literally aflame by now, but she attempted a casual shrug. "Nice to meet you, Larry."

He grinned, dimples showing in his cheeks and his warm eyes lighting up. "Nice to meet you too, Ellie. VERY nice to meet you."

She nearly fainted, remained upright through sheer power of will. "Ummm... want a drink?" she stammered, gesturing towards the sofa.

"Sure. What you got?"

"Uh... lemon soda, apple soda, orange juice..." She frowned, slapping herself mentally. Clearly this part of the preparation had escaped her attention.

He blinked. "Got any beer?"

Surely she was going to die any minute now. "Um, nooo..."

Fortunately, Larry laughed good-humoredly. "Apple soda then."

Elaida made her way over to the fridge, so very conscious of the way the heels were shortening her gait and forcing her hips to swivel and her dress to ride up her hips, so very conscious of his eyes on her back. She bent over, grabbed the apple soda, grabbed a glass, tugged her dress back to where it belonged, and made her way slowly and awkwardly back to him. He was leaning back against the sofa, and she swore she could make out the outline of his hard-on beneath his fitted jeans.

She gave him his drink, trying not to stare at his crotch. The touch of his fingers against hers was electrifying, and she could feel arousal flooding through her own loins.

He caught her gaze and held it, a sudden burst of intensity sweeping through his expression. "I'd like some ice with that, please."

Her jaw nearly dropped. "O...of course." Somehow she managed to make it to the fridge with his drink and back again, and the outline against his jeans was unmistakable when she returned. "Good girl," he smiled, and her world burst into fireworks of pure delight.

She moved to join him on the couch, but he shook his head. "No," he said - his voice seemed deeper now, more authoritative. "I'd like you to stand right there. Yes, just like that. Hands on your head."

Elaida couldn't believe it. She was doing it. She was really doing it! Trembling, she raised her arms, resting her hands on the top of her carefully-styled locks. Her dress was covering almost nothing right now, and she knew it, and she knew he knew it too.

Larry nodded in approval, giving her the once-over. "Very nice, Elaida. So... I heard you like my fanfiction?"