The Kingdom Ch. 16

"Lovely," Annabelle's voice cut through the silence as she reentered the plexiglass enclosure. "Thank you, gentlemen. I'll take it from here."

"Yes, ma'am," the men replied in unison before exiting the enclosure.

As Annabelle approached us, I could see that she was carrying what looked like two inflatable blood pressure monitors. Wasting no time, Annabelle lifted one of them and began applying it to my left upper arm, just above my elbow. Unable to see behind me, I studied the other monitor that was pinned under Annabelle's armpit. Upon closer inspection, I realized that this wasn't a blood pressure monitor at all. Instead, it was a thin neoprene sleeve with velcro at each end. And the protruding cord was not a hand-pump, but rather a thin electrical wire with an auxiliary jack at the end. The sleeve's most unique feature, however, was the small glass cylindrical vial sewn into the fabric at its center. Inside the vial was what looked to be some sort of silver liquid.

Once Annabelle had velcroed the band around my arm, she plugged the connected auxiliary cable into a receptacle in my collar. Then, she crossed to Tasha and repeated the process on her arm. While the arm-band accessory appeared to be innocent enough, I couldn't help but feel instinctively uneasy about it.

Once finished with Tasha, Annabelle stepped up to the podium with the iPad and began to tap at its screen.

"Okay, ladies," she said without taking her eyes off the screen. "I hope you slept well last night because the two of you are in for quite a workout." I gulped as I contemplated how embarrassingly un-athletic I was. I almost never worked out in my private life and I loathed ever millisecond that I did. My slim physique was almost exclusively a result of good genes and my vegan diet.

"As impressive as Armstrong is to look at, what's most unique about him, is his programming," she continued as she spun the iPad around on its podium to face us. "Say hello, Armstrong."

"Hello," an electronic voice replied. The iPad screen's layout even vaguely resembled a face, with two speedometers as eyes, a time clock as a nose, and a horizontal bar at the bottom, as an emotionless mouth.

"As you may have guessed, Armstrong was named after the world-famous cyclist, Lance Armstrong. Before he was revealed to be miserable cheat, that is. But like the man, this trainer is one of a kind," Annabelle explained. "While most human trainers employ techniques like positive reinforcement as a motivator, Armstrong gets his results a bit differently. For instance-"

Annabelle spun the iPad back toward her and tapped the screen. Suddenly, the pedals beneath my feet started moving on their own. I closed my eyes as I adjusted to the unpleasantness of cycling my legs while my orifices were so thoroughly stuffed. Not even a half revolution in, I felt one of the leather flaps that were attached to the wheel spank my exposed butt cheeks. Then another. And another. As the revolutions picked up speed, the spankings became harsher and more frequent. But to my pleasant surprise, the spankings hurt less than I imagined they would. That being said, it would have been naive to assume that the sensation would not worsen over time.

After about 20 seconds, I felt the pedaling begin to slow down. After everything came to a stop, I un-tensed my muscles and sighed in relief. Even after such a short period of time, my butt cheeks already felt hot and tingly.

"Obviously, you'll be doing the pedaling on your own, but you get the idea," Annabelle explained. "Now- you might be wondering why you would intentionally do such a thing if all you're getting from your hard work is a good spanking. Why not just stop? Well, because that would earn you this."

Annabelle tapped the screen and I suddenly felt a series of powerful electrical shocks to the soles of my feet. The shocks were so powerful that they almost felt like what I imagined a taser gun would feel like. Both Tasha and I yelped in simultaneously pain. A second later, the electricity ceased, prompting an audible sigh from the both of us. It was safe to say that however uncomfortable the spankings were, having our feet electrocuted in this way was much worse.

"Armstrong will inform you how many RPM, or revolutions per minute, you must be pedaling and he will move the target at random. Dip beneath that mark and your feet will be shocked," Annabelle continued. "Which brings us to the final element. The armband that each of you is wearing is equipped with a mercury switch. Instead of explaining how it works, I'll just show you."

Annabelle tapped on the screen and I closed my eyes, bracing for the next torturous sensation. To my pleasant surprise, however, the hanging cords connected to our mittens began to slacken, allowing for our arms to lower from their uncomfortable strappado. I let out a sigh of relief as my hands slowly descended toward my butt. But my sigh instantly turned into a shriek of pain as my butt-plug and dildo suddenly began pulsing with electricity. Short jolts of hot pain coursed through my private parts at alternating tempos, prompting me twitch like a possessed person. While the electricity did not feel quite as strong as the assault I'd experienced on my feet, it was still incredibly painful. Across from me, Tasha throw her head back and let out a labored groan. Glancing back and forth from Annabelle to Tasha, I frantically attempted to understand how to make this new torture stop.

"Smarts, huh?" Annabelle chuckled. "The only way to stop it is to keep your arms raised high enough to prevent the mercury in the vial from sliding toward your hands."

Tasha and I immediately leaned forward as far as we could in order to raise our arms back up. This was much tougher than it sounded. We were essentially straining against gravity to lift our arms behind our backs into a position that was at odds with human anatomy. If I hadn't been wearing bondage mittens, I would have tried to grab ahold of the cord and climb my way back up with my fingers. But without the use of our hands, we could only rely on our back and arm muscles. As I mentioned before, athleticism and endurance were not particular strengths of mine. While a bit of willpower helped me raise my arms back up to 90 degrees, I knew that it was only a matter of time before I'd ultimately lose this fight. Once I was above the threshold, I dug my fingernails into my palms and tried to hold my position.

"Armstrong may also choose to complicate matters by doing something like this," Annabelle tapped the screen again prompting the cord that was connected to the top of our trainer gags to retract. This caused my head to be pulled backward, forcing me to sit further upright. I gave a labored groan as this adjustment made the task of maintaining my arm position even harder. After only a few seconds, I was already starting to feel my resolve weaken.

"And to matters things even more exciting, I'm swapping your mercury switches," Annabelle added as she made another series of taps. "So, Miss Huff's switch will now control the electricity flowing into Miss Quincy's pussy and and ass and visa versa."

I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want to be responsible for Tasha's pain! It wasn't a matter of if I would fail to keep my arms raised. It was a matter of when! My eyes darted to Tasha who was now staring solemnly at the ground in front of her, almost as if she knew the torment that she'd inevitably face at my hands. It suddenly occurred to me that Annabelle was not bluffing about the story of the two sisters that she told earlier. It was easy to imagine how hours on this evil machine could cause two allies to resent each other...

"And while all of this is happening, you'll still be expected to maintain the speed dictated by Armstrong," Annabelle added gleefully. "Don't look so worried," she chuckled as she noticed my eyes widen. "Armstrong typically takes about a half hour to ease into things while he studies you. After that- well, then you should absolutely start worrying."

Feeling overwhelmed, I looked back to Tasha. I really wished that she would look at me. Now would have been the time I could have really used one of her trademark winks of encouragement. But it never came. Her face remained sullen and her gaze stayed fixated on the floor, almost as if she knew that I was going to let her down. Like I was going to fail. Eventually, I looked away too. I hated this. I hated feeling guilty for something I had no control over. I resented being made to feel bad for something I hadn't even done yet! Why couldn't Tasha at least pretend?

"Alright, enough chit-chat. Have a nice workout, ladies," Annabelle chirped before leaning her head over the iPad and tapping the green start button at the top. I turned my head to avoid her smug face. "And as tough as it gets, always remember- pain is temporary," she added as she exited the enclosure.

"Starting workout," an electric voice said through the iPad's speakers. To my unexpected relief, the cord connected to my trainer gag slackened while the cord clipped to my mittens retracted. This allowed me to lean forward as my arms were pulled back up into their strappado. I sighed in a mixture of frustration and relief. Frustration at the strappado I was being forced back into, but relief from finally being able to relax my arms and back again.

"Commencing warm-up sequence for 5 minutes," the voice said. "Speed requirements must be met within ten seconds of dictation." Suddenly, a countdown clock reading 5:10 appeared at the center of the screen. "To avoid discomfort, increase speed to 60 RPM.". Tasha and I immediately started pedaling fast, prompting our wheels to spin and our speedometer needles to climb. I exhaled slowly as I felt the sting of the pointy metal tread digging into the soles of my feet as well as the leather flaps harshly spanking my butt cheeks with increasing frequency.

But out of the clear blue, I felt a sharp zap to my vagina and anus, prompting me to squeal in pain. Based on Tasha's subsequent yelp, it was evident that she felt the same thing.

"I did not hear a reply," the electronic voice added. "I require verbal responses to all dictation. Acceptable responses include yes sir and thank you sir."

Seriously? I thought, trying to balance my disbelief with my determination to quickly reach 60 RPM. "Yesh, sheh," Tasha and I begrudgingly answered in unison through our ring gags.

A moment later, my RPM needle hit 65, comfortably surpassing my 60 RPM goal. But to my privates were suddenly dealt with yet another painful pair of zaps. Once again, I let out a loud squeal. What the hell?!

"I did not hear a response," Armstrong's robotic voice replied matter-of-factly. "Please acknowledge dictation."

"Yesh, sheh!" Tasha and I both yelled.

"Confirmed," Armstrong replied. This exchange was met with the sound of laughter to my right. I turned my head to see a group of smiling men standing on the other side of the plexiglass wall enjoying our predicament. I felt my face turn red with embarrassment and frustration. If our situation hadn't already been humiliating enough, having to address the iPad a superior definitely did the trick.

The sad truth of the matter was that the iPad was our superior. No matter how distasteful it might have been to admit, a computer program now had full control over our bodies and private parts. There was no longer a human being holding the whip. Annabelle had placed us fully in the care of a 12.5" inch touch screen. It was torture on a physical and psychological level.

As I watched the stop-clock countdown, I found myself willing the seconds to pass slower. After the first four minutes, the "warm-up sequence" had proven to be quite tolerable. Even as my butt grew more and more tender and my breathing became increasingly labored, I knew that this was probably going to be the best I would feel for the next several hours.

Tasha's gaze remained fixated at the floor with an occasional glance up to the iPad to make sure that she was maintaining her speed. With each passing second, I found myself getting more annoyed with her. She was clearly in a funk and I couldn't help but take it personally. After I had chosen to stay in the kennel for her benefit, I felt like a bit of solidarity on her part wasn't too much to ask for.

But as I stewed, my mind traveled back to the sisters that Annabelle had told us about. Suddenly, the story seemed more realistic than ever. Here we were, less than five minutes into this mess, and I was already starting harbor feelings of resentment toward Tasha. And in all likelihood, she was feeling similar sentiments toward me as well. I didn't know whether Annabelle's story was true or not, but right then and there, I decided to make sure that our story was going to end differently.

"Hey," I said to Tasha, prompting her to look at me for the first time since the workout began. "I'ng glad hor hith he." I saw her eyes soften a bit. "I'ng gonna try hy hardisht," I added.

Behind her ring-gag, I saw a smile spread across her face. "I doh oo hill," she answered with a small reassuring wink. "Oo got dish." And that was all I needed. As pathetic as it sounds, that small moment of encouragement gave the the mental boost I was looking for. I could actually feel my fear shrink away. I wasn't naive enough to believe that I could erase Tasha's concerns, but perhaps I could find moments along the way to occasionally distract her from them. Maybe that could be my role over the next several days.

"Warm-up sequence ending in 10 seconds," Armstrong's voice interrupted. "To avoid discomfort, increase speed to 80 RPM."

"Yesh, sheh!" Tasha shouted in an overly sarcastic volume and tone.

"Yesh, sheh!" I repeated quickly, grateful for the reminder.

Taking Armstrong's advice, we both began to pedal faster. Glancing over to the iPad's screen, I saw the needle climb quickly. To my pleasant surprise, it only took me a few seconds to reach 80 RPM. Already feeling more out of breath, I looked back at Tasha who, to my surprise, was still staring at me. I raised my eyebrows in silent curiosity. Tasha's eyes suddenly crossed as she curled her tongue into the shape of a clover. I laughed as I tried to curl my own tongue back at her.

"I cat do dat hith hy tongue," I said as I failed to duplicate the clover shape.

"Ahl teach oo lateh," Tasha replied with a seductive wink, making my smile widen.

"Now initiating workout," Armstrong announced. The stop-clock counting down at the center of the iPad screen reached 00:00 and then began counting up. Just then, I felt my arms begin to descend, indicating that the cord connected to my mittens was being given slack. Eager to spare Tasha pain, I clenched my arm and shoulder muscles to hold my position.

As Annabelle had predicted, the next half-hour went by without too much difficulty. I wouldn't have called it easy by any means, but I definitely surprised myself by how well I managed to maintain speed and arm position. My body was now slick with sweat and a long trail of drool ran from my neck all the way down to my sex. Every couple of minutes, Armstrong would adjust the RPM requirements and decide whether or not to support our arms. Across from me, Tasha was sweating as well. This, however, was virtually the only visible sign that she was expending any effort whatsoever. Her breathing appeared unnoticeable and at one point, I could have sworn I even heard her humming a song.

"To avoid discomfort, increase speed to 120 RPM," Armstrong's voice suddenly said, prompting my eyes to nearly pop out of my head. Did he say 120?!

"Ut?!" I shouted in a high pitch. 120 was literally 30 RPM higher than the highest speed we'd been issued so far.

"Yesh, sheh," Tasha replied promptly before beginning to pedal harder.

"Yesh, sheh," I copied her begrudgingly as I increased my own speed as well.

My eyes remained glued to the screen as I willed the needle to climb higher. It took me about six seconds to reach the required speed. After a half-hour of riding this bike, 120 RPM felt like a sprint. Even Tasha appeared to be straining to hit the mark. I couldn't help but felt bad for her as I watched her larger breasts bounce up and down with each stride. It was times like these that I most appreciated my c-cups.

After several minutes at this speed, the two of us were now panting heavily. Glancing to my right, I could see that the men who had been spectating were no longer present. This may have been due to the fact that the view was now obstructed by the fog that had covered much of the plexiglass. Since the beginning of our workout, the air inside the enclosure had grown uncomfortably hot and sticky.

Over the next 20 minutes or so, Armstrong bounced us back and forth between 120 and 90 RPM. While I was certainly being challenged, and my butt cheeks felt as if they were on fire, I could feel my confidence growing as the minutes passed. Despite my earlier doubts, was beginning to believe that this workout might actually be achievable for me. But those feelings of optimism vanished the moment that Armstrong instructed us to increase our speed to 135 RPM. And as if this wasn't bad enough, I simultaneously felt my arms descend as the cord attached to my mittens began to slacken.

Struggling to hold my arms upright, I spun my head pointlessly toward the iPad and shrieked in disapproval. Tasha also emitted a labored groan as she forced herself to pick up speed.

"Irreverence detected," Armstrong replied. "Increase speed to 140 RPM."

Are you kidding me?! This was nearly three times the speed that the workout had started out as! Tasha appeared equally perturbed and shook her head in disbelief.

"Yesh, sheh," the both of us said in unison with the same volume, but with less attitude. Within a few seconds of frantic pedaling, our needles had both hit their required marks.

I honestly wasn't sure how long I was going to last at this speed. Even without having to keep my unsupported arms raised above 90 degrees, 140 RPM was just not sustainable. Biting down hard onto the ring-gag, I forced myself to take one pedal at a time. Instead of thinking about things like minutes or hours, I began counting down from 10 over and over. The thought of lasting through multiple 10-second segments was much more palatable than the thought of lasting a through a longer segment of indeterminate length.

After what felt several dozen of those 10-second segments, Armstrong's voice said, "For the next five minutes, you may choose your own speed." As he spoke, I felt the cord connected to my mittens retract to lift my arms upward once again.

"Yesh, sheh," the both of us replied breathily.

Fighting the urge to sob in sweet relief, I closed my eyes and relaxed all of my muscles simultaneously. I moaned pathetically as I felt the leather flaps land their final spanks across my poor butt. All things considering, I was damn proud of myself. Despite having almost zero confidence in my athleticism, I had managed to make it successfully through the first hour of the workout. I may have felt like I was about to collapse, but I'd made it, nonetheless! And I did it without causing Tasha any pain whatsoever! At least I was pretty sure that I hadn't. As I took a moment to rest, I proceeded to lick the ball-bearing in my ring-gag to hydrate myself.

Across from me, Tasha groaned as she cracked her neck from side to side. But, instead of stopping altogether like I had, she continued to pedal at a slow pace.