Stories of Strange Queens

'As you were, my lovelies.' Roberts teased, twisting on her heel, her firm backside swinging into view as she strode away. The woman's shapely form, enhanced by the ultra-cutting-edge medical technology at her fingertips to be the apex of feminine sexual desire, disappeared down the hallway, round buoyant breasts swinging as she walked, her back straight, her ass swinging, her hair flowing, her nudity showing off everything she had to show and more, leaving none to doubt that she was the most prime female there was.

The door shushed closed as Roberts left, and, entirely content with their confinement once more, the four girls giggled and talked as Taylor and the others introduced themselves, talking about how they'd washed her earlier, passing compliments on each other's bodies, and, in perhaps record time, devolving quickly into aroused giggles and stifled moans as the four ever-horny women descended onto the beds for a lot of sexual action.

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The Invention of Reinvention

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A pair of slim, milky-skinned legs protruded out from the bottom of the contraption at two different angles. The view, had anyone been there to see it, would have been rewarding -- Eliza Roberts always favoured nudity where possible, in an ever-premium desire to flaunt that which she believed about herself to be superior to other women and most definitely to men. Today's work had called for the use of something more substantial in the way of general skin protection, but the almost assuredly medically unstable genius had only opted for the clothes she believed she would need. A long shirt and one of her ever-ready feminine lab coats had been donned as such, but her lower section received much less attention, and as such was bare for the world to see.

A world of one, that is.

Hard at work for the past several months on her latest century-turning breakthrough, Roberts was still coming down off of a deep depression in the chosen currency of her world -- the female body. In an effort to increase income after sales of her incredibly successful hypnotic sex-trance magic egg had dropped swiftly -- the city above which she were situated only had so many brothels and large sex stores, and Roberts was loathe to trust any external courier network in shipping the device (the ramifications of such a device being publicised were things only her AI could generate accurate speculation about) -- Roberts had turned a quick coin off of the vast majority of her personal harem of mentally reconditioned feminine lovers. The sales had all been private and facilitated through a carrier program she had chucked together one evening that was run by her in-house AI system -- a hyper-fast graphite-powered multi-core computer system inside the building itself capable of more compute power on one or two CPU cores than the entirety of all the systems combined in the MIT buildings -- with very specific sales terms and the requirement of very systematic information.

After seeing that each and every one of her pets had been not only chipped with a high-frequency radio emitter in the other arm from the one that held their organically-powered link to her facility's systems, thus enabling their chip to send signals out to the carefully hidden network of specially placed radio antenna above the earthen roof of her in-mountain home, Roberts had systematically checked, approved and sold her collection of lesbian love-pets to a hand-picked crop of rich and supreme women of Roberts' own pickings -- many of which who were already her acquaintances through past dealings and matters of mutual respect, either over scientific knowledge, their connections and products, or their sexual orientations.

Within a week, what had been a bustling building of twenty-four bouncy young naked women busily fucking and loving each other day by day had gone down to two of Roberts' most trusted and special girls, and, months after selling off the majority of her stocks via her dark web website, that number had plunged down to one, on account of a very important woman named April Kure, one of the few living humans in the world that Roberts respected -- she herself was still superior, but respect and superiority were not linked -- being out of the country during the sale of Roberts' prize yearning young sex slaves. She had demanded what she had thought had been a sale Roberts had held aside for her, and, frustrated but in need of the advanced medical supplies the woman stocked her with, had proceeded to sell Vickky, one of her two remaining servants to her. Like all of the sales, Kure intended to use her lusty, brainwashed vixen for personal pleasure -- Roberts had ensured as much from all of her sales clients thus far, and Kure was no different, although Roberts had already known she was a raging lesbian and fetishist and hadn't needed to vet her profile to confirm as much.

And so here she was, a multi-talented genius with an irresistible fetish for masses of hypnotically enslaved female fuck-toys, with just one woman in the entirety of her hospital-sized mega-home. The loss of her girls had upset Roberts, showing that even pussy-crazed feminist geniuses can get depressed. Somewhere two floors down, Renata, a tall, elegant, gleaming young blonde with high cheekbones, strong, slim legs, curving hips and the most buoyant bubble-butt and wide firm breasts capped in perfect, hard little cylinders was working on the crops, keeping up with the menial tasks Roberts usually had to perform herself that neither the AI nor her slaves could do. Without any slaves left, Roberts had no reason to keep Renata confined on her own to one of the many long-term, completely self-contained quarters she had built specifically for the purpose of storing many women at once, and, after several rigorous rounds in Roberts' multi-purpose mind reconditioning chair had been upped to housemaid status, equipped with all the relevant instructions and information she would need to maintain the jobs Roberts normally did herself around the place.

Roberts had increased her security access and informed her systems of the change, and Renata moved about autonomously, happily tending to the work that she had been programmed to do, breaking whenever she felt it necessary to eat, drink, relieve herself, or relieve the ever-building arousal garnered from obeying her Mistress through her work. Oftentimes in recent weeks, Roberts had been surprised to find Renata apprising herself of the use of Roberts' egg prototype as tool for dispelling that arousal. Although she hadn't expressly informed the girl of the presence of the device or her permission to use it, Renata had seen Roberts engaging it of its electrifyingly erotic services and had apparently believed it was available for communal use. Roberts didn't care, at first frustrated at her and all the other girls for apparently favouring other women more than herself, and later because she didn't have the time amidst working on her new idea. Neither woman had much time for the other with their new respective tasks, and both were after all still human -- there was only so much time in the day for them both to work before tiring. Even an evil genius sometimes wants to sleep more than to fuck.

A few weeks ago, Roberts, alone and distracted as she flicked through her personal feed of relevant websites on the dark web, had remembered an idea she'd scrawled down once long ago, the last time she'd been in a situation like this, sitting slumped in her 360-degree holographic office, uninspired and alone. Quickly summoning all her discarded digi-papers -- there was no such thing as saving when her digital desktop and programs never turned off -- Roberts rifled through them until she came to some that seemed like about the right time period. Reaching up and twisting her fingers in the air, the system intelligently dimmed the lights based on her hand's rotation, using tiny electronic membranes inside the glass walls of the office to tint the glass, darkening the circular chamber and effectively brightening up the digital-dot holographic display that seemed to float on and in front of the glass.

Roberts chucked a few drawings aside before coming to a piece of digi-paper deep in the folder with no file name. She enlarged it and the system cleaned all her unwanted files aside, drawing them around the glass walls so that they were behind Roberts' head, there any time she wanted them, but out of her sight. Roberts blew up the paper and gazed at her scrawled drawing, a few messy notes beside it in a lazy scrawl akin to a doctor's handwriting. The tall white-and-blonde woman's dark eyes darted from side to side as she took in the details past her had left for her, analysing a structure here, measuring a shape there. Slowly, as she looked, Roberts' lips curled upwards in a thin smile, and for the first time in quite a while -- specifically since a certain red haired pet by the name of Julia had left her -- she felt an excited rush. A spark glimmered in her wide white eyes, those twin dark orbs lazer-focussed on the digi-paper in front of her face, the light illuminating her features in a cold white that made her look almost ghostly.

thirty days later, after a private delivery from a female-driven delivery van privately owned by the operating enterprise CEO-ed by April Kure, Roberts had the basic frame in place and was installing the specially delivered material she had been given as a thank you trade by Kure. Alone in her house -- and now with only one remaining pet girl in her home -- Roberts had begun construction that night, and by the second day had installed the upper platform's hydraulic lifter system. In another two days, Roberts had the moulded shell of the device's main section attached, and with some help from her only slave, had attached the upper half to the contraption. End caps, internal tubing, wire runs, power and transmission lines for the various components were installed, as well as the first of the specialised emitters and pumps that would enable the device to work.

Eight pad-like sensor discs were punched into the inside of the twin shells, each one a set of extremely potent sensor arrays designed by Roberts herself years before. Many of the same discs were installed in regular places all throughout the facility, enabling much of the internal systems to have such pinpoint accuracy in detecting all manner of human signatures. Two on each end of this invention would have sufficed readily, but Roberts wanted this to be perfect. And so, a total of sixteen sensor discs went in. Alongside them, the air pumps that would pressurise the skin once it arrived -- the material would be electrified and fitted with a controller that would be able to translate the skin's intelligent feedback into readable information for her computers.

And that was the magic ingredient in Roberts' idea, something that had been missing years ago when she'd come up with it, something that had required external technology to advance to a point where this material was available, and for Roberts to meet and partner with April Kure. It was an electrically reactive, intelligent, hyper-extendible smart skin, a fabric designed and developed by the US Navy in an attempt to build all-terrain suits capable of intelligently controlling body temperature by reading the wetness and heat of the skin and warming or cooling to suit. The skin had been a failure, as it hadn't been able to also support military weapon webbing, and not economical to wear underneath standard operating uniform. Plus, the modules for heating and cooling the skin too often failed and were susceptible to damage. The skin itself was a success, just not in the way the Navy intended it to be. It was quickly auctioned off to the highest bidder and a subsidiary of April Kure's holdings companies picked it up for only a few million US dollars. They currently still hold the sole rights and blueprints to the skin's design and manufacture it entirely in-house, producing eight metres a day for approximately fifty-thousand dollars a metre. It generally isn't sold.

The skin-material was the key to Roberts' idea. Ultra-flexible and designed from scratch to be in contact with the skin 24/7, and filled with smart sensors that could report a multitude of information back to the processing unit, the material could be altered to form a chamber in which a person could be placed, its signals sent directly to Roberts' specially built graphite computer attached permanently to the chamber. Designed like a tanning bed, Roberts' invention was a fully enclosed device coated entirely on the inside in the skin-fabric. With the ceiling section retracted up above the bed to allow a user room to sit up inside the bed's base section and step in and out, once lying in place the chamber would close, sealing and locking shut around the body of the person inside. Tight but not unpleasant, the user would be completely cut off from the world outside, sealed away by the air-tight fabric. But that wasn't all.

Once confirmed acceptably placed within the chamber, the skin, powered by the high-pressure pumps inside the lid and base, would expand, rapidly pressing tightly into the form of the person inside, sealing around every piece of their body, forming a perfect mould of them from head to toe. The seal would be tight but not crushing, allowing for light breathing but no movement, and at that stage would be in the prime position to send extremely detailed biological information to Roberts' computer via the millions of tiny sensors sewn into the electronic mesh fabric. That data would be cross-referenced against the control data being derived from the sixteen custom sensors Roberts had built into the frame of the chamber, and any discrepancies error-checked for before being used to correct the final data. Roberts estimated that five to ten seconds inside the chamber could provide a total profile of a person's biological make-up, right down to DNA and brain activity.

Within a few more days, Roberts had the chamber built and had borrowed Renata for 12 hours to help her mould a gelatine insert that would sit underneath the skin on the base. Shaped in the form of a woman's body - and malleable, allowing it to be squashed in any direction by small motors inside the frame, moving it to fit any female body - it would form a mould in which an occupant would naturally rest. It would be the control positon for the device and would force the need for a calibration run for each new user, but that was expected no matter what. Renata, ever ready to serve her Mistress, had enjoyed a lustful half-day of complete immobility, during which her body had been rigorously stimulated by a deeply-penetrating device Roberts had designed with a small test patch of the skin-like fabric several months ago.

This, a slender, bullet-like dildo, was capable of expanding to fill Renata's depths perfectly, stretching her every corner and inner wall to just the right pressure point before filling every nerve with an electric vibration that had her melting in bliss within seconds. Plugged in via a lengthy USB cable to a computer on a bench left some twenty feet away, Renata had lay, completely immobilised in the fluid gel as it set to her rough body shape, her pussy tingling as she was edged for twelve hours on end, the smart fabric pushing itself inside her capable of telling a program on the PC exactly how close Renata was at any one in ten moments a second.

By the twelve hour mark, Renata had passed out twice and came once, after a slight fault in the program had detected her body incorrectly 'de-lusting' - although she had been wrought with micro-orgasms all throughout the process. A little of her fluid had stained the gel, but Roberts needed to seal the mould once more anyway, clearing any imperfections Renata's unique shape had left behind. Stumbling and shaking and almost unconscious, Renata had had just enough time to cum completely and utterly before passing out on the floor of the lab, the dildo still inside her, the fabric disengaged, the pink wire snaking across her limp leg and up to the PC sitting innocently above her. She would sleep for nearly twelve hours. At some point, Roberts had taken her upstairs to the living level and wrapped her up on one of the many couches, not because she was cold on the heated tiles, but because she would cramp and bruise. Roberts cared about her inventions with an obsessive lust, but Renata was her one remaining pet companion, and she cared about her almost just as much. Almost.

On day twenty of the project, as Roberts was putting the main structure of the second half of the device in place, the skin arrived. Eight thick rolls of black material were unloaded from a black van in Roberts' underground car park and stacked in the lift. Roberts had been tempted to invite the short little dark-haired vixen driving the vehicle inside to 'help' her with them, but Kure was a special acquaintance and one of approximately three women the world over who knew about Roberts' true goings-on in her private mountain-mansion, and the woman had been fore-warned. The thick, presumably led-lined jacket and anti-flash all-black wraparound sunglasses, most likely with micro-mirrors built underneath the lenses, were natural safety measures against the plethora of widely varying mind-seducing creations Roberts experimented with here.

At that, Roberts had had to smile - she respected Kure in a way she respected no one else. She was smart, witty and attractive, and had built her personal empire in a similar way that Roberts had - with networks behind networks, businesses behind businesses, and a lot of special intelligence. She hadn't expected her not to fore-warn any female driver she sent to Roberts' facility, and yet she had sent one knowing that Roberts would take a liking to her that she'd never have with a man. The woman had left free from Roberts' charms, but, unknowingly, with just a tiny sliver of a very, very rare respect.

After hours of measurements and sewing, the skin-like material was attached to a frame and ready to fit. Once again enlisting the help of her companion Renata, Roberts fixed the frame inside the human-sized case and had her assistant lie inside, her body helped to settle into place by way of the mould, her naked form resting easily on the malleable fabric skin. It would take many tests - many of which performed on the hapless body of Renata - to get the pressure right and calibrated correctly for maximum contact. Initially the fabric did an excellent job of sealing around the subject's body, but was expanding too quickly - the toes, fingers and various orifices of the occupant were only partially covered or missed entirely. After recalibrating the pump network and tuning those around the hands, feet and crotch, Roberts had the skin expanding inside the subject better, but too rapidly, causing some pain as it pushed inside. The addition of a thin self-lubricating oil transferred to the underside of the material while retracted and wicked through to the surface solved that issue, and Roberts found herself achieving percentages of scan data integrity in the high nineties. But she wasn't satisfied.

The weeks passed, and Roberts tested the chamber more and more, the ever-present Renata happy to be summoned from her tasks to once again lie in the cupped bed and feel that tight skin suck into her and push tight into every crevice and corner. Soon enough she began to assist Roberts with feedback, discovering the purpose of the design and filling her in on exactly how deep she felt the skin going inside her or how tight it went on more sensitive areas. At one point when the vaginal pump was perfectly tuned and filling Renata nicely, the anal one was too firm and stretching her. Alterations were made, and then the toes were too quick, pushing her toes outwards painfully. At another point, the base began to expand faster than the lid, lifting Renata off of her gel mould and making her arms and legs roll, moving her from the correct place to lie. It was corrected.