tagMind ControlPleiades Ch. 05 - Kink Matrix

Pleiades Ch. 05 - Kink Matrix

bydemoniker©

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Eyes closed, she bit her knuckle and thought of Ava. The sweet merciless embrace of her thighs, squeezing so tightly Leo sometimes feared her neck might snap. Best of all, when past midnight she awoke to Ava's weight and heat against her face. Limbs inexplicably paralyzed, she pleasured Ava, mind dull and half-asleep, tongue nimble and attentive. Sometimes, after climax, Ava stayed and lolled on her, toying with her breath. Other times she only peed and wiped herself with Leo's hair or the corner of her pillow, and then left without uttering a word. But goddamn, it was poetry.

Why did humiliation fuel her sense of worth? And why did Ava stop right when the pain turned blissful? Just because Leo begged for mercy, it didn't mean she wanted it. The problem with consent was that it ruined the illusion. Handcuffs missed the point when a safe-word could unlock them.

She checked her reflection for nail marks or bruises, but was sickened to see her precious keepsakes had faded. She hated that she healed so quickly; this body was a curse. Far worse than a few mild scratches was the agony of their absence.

She hadn't always felt this way. Back on Palos her leveler had kept her sexually sedated. She'd seldom suffered impure thoughts and never masturbated. Her mind had been so clear back then. She'd excelled in academics. Leadership and Civics... Fencing... She was Leona Victoria Hastings; namesake of her maternal grandmother, the legendary Leona Troubridge. Her pedigree demanded nothing less than exemplary conduct. Naturally, in accordance with EMIC doctrine, she had dutifully reported any distracting or intrusive thoughts, like a chaste Catholic schoolgirl confessing to a priest. The Social Engineers had tweaked her Cognitive Model and adjusted her leveler until such impulses were purged. Cleansed of distracting urges, she became the model candidate. She'd lived this hell since puberty, a porcelain hollow shell.

That is, 'til Ava saved her and enslaved her. And now life's colors burned so much brighter, the spectrum wider. Leo didn't need to wear a mask or pretend to be a saint. She mixed honey with her coffee each morning, and drank without fear of being judged. Her skin pulsed and tingled. And yes, the sex was potent. But was it tenable? On Palos she'd been taught that sex was an affliction. In the quiet of her quarters, she wrestled with this contradiction. At the heart of it, was Ava the cause or the effect? Did she implant this compulsion or only satisfy it? At this point did the distinction matter, if Leo couldn't live without her?

Intellectually she saw this delicious malady for what it was... A neurochemical delusion. In rare fleeting moments of clarity, she knew that she should end it, for the mission and for her family's honor. What would grandmother and Auntie Caldwell think, to see her sink to this? On the other hand, fuck them and what they might have said. They were four thousand AU's behind her now, and also both quite dead. Leo was immortal. A few years of hedonism wouldn't matter in the grand scheme. Could she not enjoy herself a year or ten, and later restore order?

She was captain, after all. But asserting authority proved difficult with her tongue in Ava's ass. And what about the others? She faced mutiny if she toppled Ava. Aside from Beth, the crew tripped over themselves to please her. They printed animated thumping hearts or tiny dancing bunnies on their fingernails. Hell, Sabrina augmented her hair to glow and pulse with psychedelic patterns, and Pari obsessed that her tongue was 'inadequate', though Leo remained unclear on what that meant. Nearly all of them wore makeup just to curry Ava's favor.

What if... Just to see... Experimentally, Leo applied a lip-balm, cherry-flavored. Then, feeling foolish, she wiped it with her wrists and glowered at her reflection. The clock on her retina ticked... The vent in the corner rattled... Above her bed, a holographic model of the HMS Victory slowly rotated, while a throbbing heat between her legs eroded conscious reason.

Think of something else. Like your job. She accessed the navigation dashboard. The Pallister debris field lay eighty-two days ahead; a diffuse cloud of dust, speckled with icy pebbles, an echo of some ancient Kuiper belt collision. Superimposed on her vision, the debris field slowly rotated, its density represented by concentric shades of gray. To burn, or not to burn? That was the question. The risk was fifty-fifty.

Piper argued they should punch right through. For she loathed lateral vector on the spine.

Sabrina wanted to deploy an electrostatic mesh to collect dust for study.

Leo weighed the risk of colliding with a pebble at almost one percent lightspeed.

Most of the crew agreed the risk was minimal. The ship was seventy-kilometers of scaffolding, with bulbous thrusters aft. The spine was a slender shaft; a linear particle accelerator.

She opened a tile on her mirror and accessed the ship's map. Ava's marker was in the gym, along with Hypatia and Rio. With them, even Leo hadn't seen her in days. Staring at the map she fumed, stomach twisting. She stood and paced, bouncing from wall-to-wall inside her room. It's gone too far. It has to stop. That's it. We're done. I'm going there now and ending this...

But first she made herself presentable. She scrubbed and brushed and flossed and groomed immaculately. And maybe just a dab of cherry lip-balm... She plucked her eyebrows with trembling hands, giddy from the thought of Ava's taste and wicked smile. She braided her hair painfully tight, and then set off for her confrontation. She circled back and quickly peed, checked her appearance one last time, and then headed out again.

While rehearsing her tirade, Leo imagined herself bursting into the gym and catching them in the act. She was thrown off script to find them dressed, more or less, and using the gym for its intended purpose. Halfway down the row of stations, Ava did crunches on the gray matted floor, with an inclined padded wedge. A few stations further, Hypatia and Rio rode stationary bikes, panting and dripping sweat, ponytails bobbing as they pedaled. Both wore white camisoles, white underwear, and standard knee-high socks, all drenched with perspiration.

Leo's reflection greeted her in the mirrored wall, braids tight and fit for gripping. The gym was long and narrow, just wide enough for a single row of workout benches, stationary bikes, treadmills. All four walls were mirrored, perhaps to give the illusion of space. But the recursive reflections gave the impression of an infinite plane of clutter.

On sight of Leo, Hyp gave a silly sheepish grin, while Rio smiled demurely.

"You're ten minutes late," Ava gently admonished.

Which made no sense, as she had come spontaneously. But facing Ava, inhaling her, Leo's righteous indignation faltered. Was she really so pathetically Pavlovian? She stood wavering, not quite stammering. It hurt to look in Ava's eyes; it hurt to look away.

"You haven't called in days," she mumbled. That was the extent of her rebellion.

"You can mope about it in quarters. Or you can lie down," said Ava, patting a patch of matted floor between two workout benches.

Disembodied, Leo lay where Ava gestured, as though watching someone else. She stayed pliant while Ava bound her ankles with a bandbell, a device meant for resistance-exercise in weightlessness, but suitable for bondage. Experimentally Leo tugged the straps until satisfied that escape was impossible.

"Hands over your head, flat on the floor. You know the drill. What's with the attitude?"

"What attitude?" Leo asked, defensively, while her wrists were similarly strapped. Completely trapped, she gazed at her helpless reflection in the mirrored ceiling, Ava kneeling beside her.

"You think as captain you're entitled to special treatment? You think I'm your property?"

"What? No! I only want-"

"Listen. I've built a Kink-Matrix," Ava said as she opened a tool-bag, long and squat, black with brass buckles. It clinked when she unzipped it.

"A what?"

"A Kink-Matrix. You know... For sexual compatibility. Don't play dumb. The term is fairly self-explanatory. It matches kinks, kinesics, and pheromones, among other traits. Even refractory periods."

"I suppose that's useful for planning threesomes and such."

"Yes, that's one application. But what's interesting is that your proclivity is drifting. I mean, we all drift, obviously. Experience shapes and reshapes us. But your kink seems to drift nonlinearly."

"Meaning?"

"Your kink is evolving. Through repeated exposure, what was once degrading becomes blasé. In time, your tastes will shift and become more... shall we say, risqué? Over an average human lifespan such drift is inconsequential."

"But we're immortal."

"Yes. Exactly. Which presents a cognitive challenge. You're wired for degradation, Leo, and perhaps a dash of pain. With a bit of creativity, I can keep you sane. But it will change how others perceive you. As captain, you'll draw fire from every switch. They'll conspire to make you bottom-bitch."

Leo blushed and silently mouthed a curse. "You said my kink was normal."

"Yes. And so is their response. Normal... Depraved... At this point does it really matter? You know how this crew gossips. Honestly, given eight centuries ahead of us, did you really expect to keep it secret?"

Naively, that had been her plan. "What happens now? Can you rewire their behavior?"

"Heh... EMIC's sexual repression is what destabilized them in the first place. Instead of repressing urges, I can vent them. I can trigger them under controlled conditions. A trigger might be an article of clothing; a bracelet or a collar. When worn, certain crewmembers will dominate you. When removed, they'll see you as commanding officer. Or the trigger might be a specific location. Like this room, for example."

"Might I inquire as to which crewmembers are switches?" Leo asked. Glancing at Hyp and Rio, she caught them leering. Rio tittered and looked away. Hyp met Leo's gaze with one arched brow and a sensual crooked smirk.

"You'll find out soon enough. Let's get to work," Ava said, as she pulled what looked like pliers from her tool-bag.

"What the hell!"

"Don't be a baby. Stick out your tongue."

Apprehensively, Leo obeyed. In the mirrored ceiling Ava's pliers clamped her tongue.

Click-pop-zap-sizzle. Goddamn, that stung. The pain resounded through her head. Reflexively she recoiled, and when the numbing shock subsided, she found her tongue was pierced and studded. Her mouth tasted of metal, plastic, and the faintest tint of blood. She ran the stud along her teeth and gums to get the feel of it, and then examined it in the mirrored wall. The tongue-stud was a nondescript chrome orb, perhaps larger than a cherry-pit.

"It's heavy for its size."

"That's probably the magnets. It has a hefty motor."

"What?"

"It's a vibrator, silly," Ava laughed, as she cleaned and stowed her piercer.

"A what? You're joking."

Hyp dismounted her a stationary bike and swaggered over with her lithesome, lanky belter-build, breasts heaving from exertion. Her fingernails were inky blue, with spinning pinwheel galaxies. She wore a flask clipped to her underwear, which constantly tugged the waistband down her left hip, and so she habitually hoisted it back up. She stood facing Ava, feet straddling Leo's head, ankles centimeters from her cheeks. Her heat and sweat were palpable

"Hey, watcha do'in?" she said to Ava, without acknowledging Leo.

"I've given Leo a tongue-stud vibrator."

"Oh. Neat," said Hyp with casual indifference and a thinly veiled sly grin. "So, Rio and I were talking... Kind of debating... Did EMIC really mandate that our descendants shouldn't evolve?"

"Ha! Sort of... It's called the 'Symmetrical Reproductive Compatibility Doctrine', and it's three thousand pages long."

"Okay, what's the gist?" Hyp asked. She unsnapped her flask and took a swig.

"On Earth, geographically isolated animal populations diverged into separate species. So you can imagine the evolutionary pressure on organisms transplanted to another stellar system. Different spectrum... Different gravity and atmospheric composition."

"Yeah. Okay. No shocker," Hyp shrugged. While hitching her flask back to her underwear her stance casually shifted, inching both feet closer to Leo's head until she stood on her braids. Leo winced, while Hyp pretended not to notice. Her socks brushed Leo's ears and cheeks, dabbing them with sweat.

A rivulet of perspiration trickled down her left buttocks. From below, Leo quietly watched a droplet coalesce. Briefly, it clung to Hyp's toned ass by surface tension until too much mass accreted, and then plummeted toward Leo. With her braids pinned by Hyp's feet, she couldn't turn her head or do a goddamned thing. She opened wide and caught it on her tongue, savoring the salty bliss.

"How are our descendants supposed to survive if they can't evolve?"

"That's the problem we're meant to solve. That's why we're immortal. The goal is not to prevent evolution, but to avoid divergence into a competing species."

A moment later Rio joined them. Maybe Japanese girls didn't sweat, but this one certainly glistened. Perspiration soaked Rio's underwear. The fabric, rendered almost transparent, clung to her pubic mound and labia. She stood straddling Leo's torso, face-to-face with Hyp, breasts almost touching.

"Hey, Ava... Did I hear right?"

"Yes," Hyp interjected. "Like I said. It's called the Selective Reproductive Compatibility Doctrine."

"No. That that. The other thing. Leo's tongue-stud is really a vibrator?"

Ava didn't speak or even nod. A subtle smile sufficed.

"Sweet... What a kink. Is it controlled by neural link?"

"No. Nothing fancy. Just this wireless remote," said Ava, handing the remote to Rio for inspection. It was matte-black with a few gray buttons; a little larger than a memory stick. "It has three power levels and a pulse mode. The charge is good for eighty hours if run continuously."

"Couldn't it recharge metabolically?"

"That's just what Poppy wanted to create. But I asked her to keep it simple. It can interface with the ship... Oh, hang on, I'm getting a call," she said. With a concerned expression, Ava walked briskly toward the hatch. "Sabrina... Calm down... What's wrong?" she asked, as she stepped into the corridor. "Okay... Why? Your vitals look fine... Stop crying... How can I help you if you won't tell me?"

Hyp and Rio waited, eavesdropping... as did Leo pinned beneath them.

"I hope Sabrina isn't hurt."

"Bah... A month's chocolate says she's faking... Anything for Ava's attention," Hyp scoffed. She aimed her flask and Rio and playfully squirted water on her neck and breasts.

"Hey! You made me wet," Rio said coquettishly.

"Yeah? What else is new?"

Rio tried to snatch the flask, which turned into a tugging match. Each gripped the container, twisting and squeezing. When the struggle ended Hyp still held her flask, though half its contents had spattered down on Leo.

"Duty calls. I have to go," Ava said from the hatchway. She grabbed her toolbelt from the hook and slipped it on.

"Aww... No fair. Why?"

"Sabrina wouldn't say, but she insisted it was urgent. Take care of Leo for me."

Before disappearing through the hatch, Ava blew a kiss and softly whispered... Not words as such, but a melodious incantation, incomprehensible and yet profoundly moving. Her whisper echoed even after she had gone, manifesting as a pleasant tingle, and prickling Leo's nape. Warmth blossomed in her belly and spread. Her clit abruptly throbbed, causing an involuntary moan.

She wasn't alone. Above her, Hyp and Rio gasped. They shuddered and flung themselves into a passionate embrace, breasts and torsos melding, hands exploring. Leo stared up at their glistening legs arched over her, white underwear blotched by sweat, particularly the crotch. She couldn't see their faces but heard sloppy, smacking kisses and urgent panting.

Rio stood on her tippy toes to reach Hyp's mouth. Then, still too short, she stood onto Leo's chest, damp socks wobbling unsteadily on Leo's tits as she brought her mouth to Hyp's. Her fingers slipped inside her lover's undies, around the back and firmly grabbed a handful. Gently moaning, Hyp responded in kind. Each squeezed the other's ass, tightening their embrace. Pinned beneath them, Leo watched and ached.

"Ick, we're both drenched and sticky," Hyp panted, when she paused to catch her breath. She glanced down at Leo. "Ooooh... Someone's dolled up. Look, Rio. Cap'n is wearing lipstick."

"My lips were chapped," Leo huffed.

"Oh cute, she's blushing. Don't be embarrassed. But you mustn't put it on so thick. It makes you look like an Edgeworth whore. Here, let me help," Hyp offered. She propped her sweaty sock on Leo's chin. Toes wriggling, she wiped her lips.

Presented this gift, Leo felt compelled to worship. But lest she appear too eager, she kept her mouth shut, lips tightly pursed. She quietly sniffed, stealthily she hoped; a pungent mix of ammonia and lactic acid. Even breathing tasted salty.

"There... Much better."

"She still looks like a whore."

"Yes. But one who has earned her coin."

Leo examined her reflection. Cherry lip balm was smeared around her mouth and chin. Her cheeks tingled and her cunny twitched. Heart palpitating, she tugged against her bindings.

"Ava said to untie me."

"No. She said to 'take care of you'. Surely she explained the Kink-Matrix."

"She mentioned it," Leo said warily. She disliked where this was leading.

"She summoned you for us to use."

"No one summoned me. I came here on my own."

Hyp shrugged. "Sure. Call it what you will. All I know is, Ava tapped a few buttons on her tablet, and thirty minutes later you arrived. Might as well get comfortable, Captain. Or should I call you slave?"

"Tongue slut," Rio offered. "Cunt-licker..."

"Maybe... But first she has to earn it," Hyp smiled. She removed her left sock, revealing toes rather stubby for a belter. A spiral galaxy adorned each toenail. She pressed the ball of her foot on Leo's forehead, lingering only briefly before sliding it down her face, dragging her lower lip. Wriggling her toes, she flattened her captain's nose.

"You'd best get started if you want to be untied."

Leo tried resisting; she truly did. She glared defiantly as her tongue pried apart Hyp's toes and licked between them, tasting salt, dead skin, and lint.

Perhaps feeling excluded, Rio said, "Look at my underwear. It's positively soaked."

She wasn't kidding. Rio wriggled off her panties, and from the way the fabric rolled and bunched it was obviously drenched. Dangling by one hooked finger, the sweaty panties pendulously swung above Leo's face, grazing her lips. She inconspicuously sniffed, but Rio saw and smiled sweetly like a flattered schoolgirl.

With her palm, she pressed the crotch to Leo's mouth and nose, preventing her from breathing. Leo tried to turn her head, which proved worse than ineffective. It turned a harmless powerplay into a game she couldn't win. A glint awoke in Rio's eyes, the dawning comprehension that she could do whatever she pleased. They stayed like this for half a minute, eyes locked. Only when Leo stopped struggling and accepted it, did Rio let her breathe.

"Time to clean them. Open wide."

Leo obeyed, unsure of why. She simply never thought of stopping.

Rio stuffed her sopping panties Leo's mouth, pressing the crotch flat on her tongue, still tender from its piercing. The waistband rubbed against her palette with a mix of itch and tickle. As the musky aroma trickled through her sinuses, she writhed in helpless pleasure.

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