Pentacle Pt. 04

"Be a big girl now and just take it." S moved her hips forward, driving the cock home with a single, relentless thrust.

"There you go, honey. It's all the way in now."

"I can feel it in my belly. It's too much, mistress, you have to take it out. Please? It hurts!"

"No, dear. Sometimes little girls have to do unpleasant things to make their mistress happy."

The girl whined quite convincingly. S slowly started to withdraw, but only so she could get a feel for how long and hard she could stroke.

"You're doing so good baby; the worst part is over."

The girl bit her lip and whined again.

"I'm going to start moving it in and out now, but you aren't going to cum until I give you permission."

"Yes, mistress."

S worked her hips slowly at first. It felt like a lot of work was ahead of her still, but the result was going to be totally worth it.

"You know what grown-ups call this? What I'm doing to your butt?"

"Anal sex, I think."

"It's ok, baby, you're allowed to swear this one time."

"Butt," the girl groaned and strained against a particularly swift stroke. "Butt-fucking."

"That's right, baby, I'm butt-fucking you."

S worked up a real sweat while her little girl grunted and winced with every stroke for a couple of minutes. Then her little girl's ass seemed to relax and the going got easier. The grunts turned to gasps of ecstasy; the struggling became riding the piston of pleasure that had invaded her most intimate place.

"Oh, please, mistress, let me come. Let me come now!"

"Ok, baby, you can come now," S smiled, a sense of amazement at what she had accomplished exploding deep inside her.

-

S withdrew the triumphant cock and pulled the still vibrating egg from the girl's pussy. She went around and released her little girl's wrists and chest from their bonds. She helped the girl to her feet once again to take her place on the cross.

"Eat me out baby, and we can call it a night."

The cross was warm and the pad was still compressed from the weight of her slave. The girl's expert tongue did quick work of her aching pussy; S tightly gripped the same posts that anchored her little girl as multiple orgasms rocked her body.

And then it was over.

"You did good, girl."

"You too, mistress," the girl replied, mollified.

Just as S was beginning to think of the best way to begin aftercare for the girl (and for herself, if she was being honest), the lights and walls turned white, and member's door opened. Two black clad figures emerged and walked up the stairs. One held a pair of handcuffs and the other a gag and hood.

"It's time for me to go, mistress."

"Wait, what?"

"They're taking me away now." The girl stood and put her arms behind her back. "Goodbye."

S suspected that her friends Mr. Fake Mustache and Mr. Tracksuit were under the ski-masks, but they said nothing. The short one snapped cuffs on and stepped aside for the tall one to fasten the gag and drop the hood. They led her little girl down the stairs and out the member's door without another word.

"Goodbye," S whispered to the empty chamber, silent tears springing from her stunned eyes.

-

The Summoned stood at the foot of the spiral staircase, looking up, trying not to cry.

She had found some suitable clothes in her personal chest, but no shoes. She expected to be rebuked when she took a pair of white trainers from the school uniform section of the Purple Armory, but there was nothing.

In fact, the silence was deafening.

"That sucked, you know," the Summoned offered. She had said this and many other things with the same sentiment for the hour following her return from THE CROSS. There was never an answer.

"I mean, what was the point? What's the point of any of this?"

S followed the helix path out of The Pentacle with her eyes, envisioning her departure in her mind, cutting ties with the PNS, forgetting that any of this even happened, and going back to her life.

"You're not going to answer. Nurse Joan or Mrs. Goode aren't coming to help. It's up to me to figure it out and decide."

The Summoned mounted the staircase to see if a couple of steps up would change her mind or settle her feelings.

Nope.

She sat, continuing to think out loud.

"This place, this experience isn't what I thought it would be. I think I came here believing that I would be taking a vacation on a film set, get to play porn star for a week."

S chewed on that thought for a while.

"I guess I'm like every girl who thought they'd make some money, have a good time doing what they would already do for free. Not stupid, just naïve. All the dick and pussy I could handle with none of the consequences."

S conjured the image of Nurse Joan standing, arms crossed, in the doorway leading into the Pentagon.

"Nurse Joan would tell me again, maybe a little impatient this time, that I'm here under my own volition, and that I hold all the power. Same with the woman I put on THE CROSS."

Imaginary Nurse Joan nodded and stood aside. S got to her feet and went back into the Purple Armory, seeing it with now fresh eyes.

"This is real power, though. The kind of resources available, the amount of surveillance you've had me under," S contemplated. "The number of people ready to dominate me. It's flattering and unnerving."

The Summoned toured the shelves, clothes racks, and wardrobes. Every costume was exactly what she would expect. Every bit of fetish wear and harness, even the ridiculous latex stuff, the bindings and cuffs, the panties, bras, and stockings; it was all exactly what she would have stocked for herself if she had the budget. She noticed that there were no ropes, or gear for pet-play, or adult-baby, or furry costumes, or any of the other stuff she avoided on Fetlife. If she were really subjected to some other power's whims, like a porn studio, she would have surely been coerced into a pony-girl costume by now, right?

"You are like a fortune teller, or a TV medium. I gave you all this information, and you're doing a warm reading on me. What's the scam, though?"

S returned to the Red Lounge. She'd always wanted a bedroom and maybe even a den or living room decked out in red velvet. Here it was. Apartment living, roommates, and L7 romantic partners had kept that interior decorating fantasy from becoming reality. It even had two nightstands filled with battery-powered boyfriends, ever her refuge when sex failed to scratch the ever-present itch.

"The trick you are playing here is all about consent, right?"

S moved to the Gold Bathroom. From the time she first toured the Pentagram, this room seemed the homeliest. It was outfitted like a hotel bill that she would have to take out a loan to afford, but it perfectly matched the image of luxury and function she had in her head.

"I'm here because I wanted to come, and cum, and cum again. I've never felt comfortable sharing my fantasies with people close to me. This was my chance to bring them to life with Perfectly Normal Strangers that I would probably never see again. I consented to be here, and so did they, and we could all withdraw permission at any time."

S entered the Green Kitchen and it dawned on her this was a close match to the kitchen in her first serious boyfriend's house. His family was rich, but he was a punk and a rebel. He was also a shit, but his mom loved S and would reach out to her from time to time, over the years, even long after they had broken up. Interacting with her boyfriend's mom was the first inkling that she might be bisexual, too. Sitting with the charming and pretty woman in her breakfast nook, sharing some coffee before the boy took her to Disneyland, S wanted nothing more than to be kissed by her. The intrusive thoughts toward the woman never returned, but the feeling of attraction persisted.

"How did you know about that?" S never told a soul about that fleeting desire. "Educated guess?"

The final room remained the weirdest; the Blue Infirmary baffled her still. S sat on edge of the exam table, the crinkling of the paper the only sound in the whole place, other than her own voice. Medical stuff was just weird in general, and trips to the gyno were the opposite of sexy. Why Dr. Benway and his crazy sex probes and fuck-bot table?

Somehow, her submissive experience in THE TABLE chamber and feeling forced to be dominant in THE CROSS chamber were linked. The answer was just out of reach.

"I know this about myself," S voicing a thought that had been building steam in the back of her mind. "Dr. Benway, Mr. Goode, even those inept kidnappers. I love being dominated. Men asserting their authority over me, taking what they want from me, gets me hot."

She sat there for a long minute, deep in self-reflection.

"I love being babied and taken care of too," S admitted. "Nurse Joan, Mrs. Goode...My first girlfriend was fifteen years older than me. To her, I was a fun fling. To me, she was everything."

S returned to the Green Kitchen, pulled a barstool around and sat. She stared at the bare wall where the door to THE STOCKS would appear if she stuck around until tomorrow. A picture was starting to form in her mind, emerging from the confusion, and it wasn't pretty. Or maybe it was, but it depicted something closer to reality than S was comfortable admitting.

"The girl today, she was supposed to be me? That's fucked up right there, but I went right along with it."

The mortal injury of the moment the girl was taken away from her returned with a vengeance. Another thought arrived with it, leaving the Summoned dumbstruck.

"Damn, I'm such a dupe. I can't fucking believe I fell for it."

S recalled the PNS interviewer saying that it was necessary to embrace roleplaying for the scenes to have their greatest impact. Before her ordeal in THE CROSS, S had only consciously engaged in roleplaying with Nurse Joan. She hadn't been playing in THE BED or THE TABLE, even the aborted kidnapping scene in THE CHAIR; she was her authentic self in those chambers.

"I didn't have to do anything to that girl at all. I stayed there and did what I thought was expected of me."

S tried to recall the moments when the submissive mask the girl wore slipped a little. Her only thoughts when that happened was a desire to do what the girl wanted, to do a good job for her, to better play the role chosen for her.

"Fuck, I'm so stupid!" S exclaimed.

S replayed the moment the hood was dropped over her doppelganger's face before she was led away, over and over. The look in her eyes wasn't fear.

"The Companion Cube moment was a nice touch, GLaDOS, I have to say."

S stood up and walked over to the blank green wall.

"If I demanded that the door to THE STOCKS be opened right now, would it?"

The wall appeared to be seamless. The technology present in The Pentacle was hard to fathom, but what it represented was always on display.

"What would I do to myself in there if I opened the door now?"

Two paths, S thought. I'm only supposed to see two options here.

"Open the door now, or leave forever, right?"

Curious, S went back to the Gold Bathroom.

"Alexa, open the door to THE CROSS, please."

The door opened and the lights came on; the chamber was as she left it.

S went to the Red Lounge and said, "Siri please open the door to THE BED." The door opened to reveal that the bed she shared with Mr. and Mrs. Goode was still there, untouched.

S did the same in the Purple Armory and the Blue Infirmary. THE CHAIR still had the infamous spanking bench, Barstool of Insanity, and Scary Red Monster, along with the rack of butt-bruising tools, ready for another round of playtime. THE TABLE was still the nightmare version of an urgent care exam room, the robotic operating table crouched like a heavy metal demon expecting a virgin sacrifice.

The Green Kitchen's door to THE STOCKS was all that remained.

"If I go in there now, you'll show me, what? That I've always been in control? That I've been the force behind the operation this whole time? That would be a hell of a trick. I'm not this rich or well connected."

S took an Orangina from the fridge, twisted the cap, and took a sip.

"If I leave now, I'll only learn that I was never strong enough to carry my own sexuality, right? That given free access to every possible toy in the chest, that I'd rather take my ball and go home."

The Summoned took another sip. It was refreshing and distracting.

"Fuck that. I'm going to take a bath. No way I'm leaving this place without soaking in that ridiculous thing at least once."

-

"GLaDOS, play Cigarettes After Sex," S commanded, mounting the stepladder up the smooth white cliff of the bathtub. Steam coated every glass surface in the Gold Bathroom, softening every hard edge. The Summoned lowered herself into the water, wincing a little at the heat. Settling in, fully immersed, S released a sigh that resonated deep in her soul.

"Don't let me fall asleep in here, ok? I would hate to drown before I get summoned for my last ordeal." There was no answer. The Pentacle never answered. It didn't have a voice; it was just a place with things and stuff. A batshit crazy place, filled with bonkers insane things, and plenty of mind-blowingly weird stuff to do.

"Oh yeah," S chided. "'I'm going to stay, stick with the program, play the game, be a team player, take one for the team, there's no I in team, all that shit."

S discovered a set of controls and the built-in waterjets right after that. She swam around in the luxury, letting the jets touch every square inch of her body. S thought that it might be nice to share the tub with Nurse Joan or Mrs. Goode (or both, there was room enough to be sure), to enjoy the heat and sensation of the pulsing jets, to feel their smooth, warm squishy bodies against hers. To diddle each other into ecstasy.

Hell, even a visit from the grim Mr. Goode or the perverse Dr. Benway would be fun, playing footsie, jerking them off, watching strands of their jizz squirt into the turbulent water.

Moving her butt up against one of the jets, feeling the penetrating force of water against her pussy and butthole, fantasizing an entourage of people engaging in hot tub sex was the perfect use of this alone time. The orgasm, so often the focal point and goal of sex, was an afterthought of the intense pleasure of riding that jet of water.

S turned off the jets and stayed in the tub until the water cooled and she felt thoroughly pruned. A sweet, satisfied grin returned to her flushed face every time she thought about her recent sex partners and the experiences she now felt so lucky to have had.

-

Hours later, after eating, reading, listening to music, and generally just enjoying the safety of alone time, S strapped the penis gag into her mouth once again and rode the fanciest vibrator she could find to her own personal oblivion.

After that, curled up naked in the silky sheets, nestled in a bunch of fluffy pillows, weighed down by a pile of plush comforters, S sent one last command into the darkness.

"When I go to THE STOCKS tomorrow, I want you to give me whatever you got. Like, everything. Do your worst, ok?"