The Spy Rider Ch. 02

My impostor is staring at the ceiling lying stretched and motionless. My Mistress' arm is draped lazily over her chest. I am crying in my shell miles away once again slipping back from climax, unfulfilled.

"I love you, Heartless. I always have," Mistress whispers. "I always will."

I love you, too, Mistress. I love you, too!

"Do you love me, Heartless?" Mistress asks.

"Yes..." my impostor whispers half asleep.

"We shall see," Mistress responds. "We shall see."

---

The guards lead my impostor through the maze of subterranean corridors underneath Mistress' mansion, but this time our journey terminates in a different room. The steel ball chained to my impostor's collar is released and the guards work together to chain her wrists into shackles hanging from the darkness above. A third shackle is wrapped around her right ankle. I hear the sound of an electric motor and the chains begin to retract pulling my impostor in various strategic directions so that when the engine is cut, she is balancing on the toes of her left foot, her right is pulled to the side and her arms are stretched tautly, high towards the ceiling.

I follow her line of sight as she calmly begins to take in all aspects of her surroundings. I would be doing the same thing, were I not imprisoned miles away in a shell.

The guards leave us balancing. My impostor begins to relax a little and stares ahead of her at a tapestry depicting a naked woman standing erect, her arms held wide. A white sphere of thread radiates from around the woman's head - a halo. Various other naked women, supplicants, are kneeling, heads bowed in reverence.

An electric motor kicks on again and the tapestry begins to rise revealing a barren cinder block wall on the other side.

"Heartless."

My impostor turns her head to the left slowly to see Schulz standing next to her.

"Schulz," she says.

I begin to envision positions where Schulz's legs or head should be located in order to launch the most effective attack. Even restrained as I am, I believe that I could take her down with my free leg. If I do it right, a second move would break her neck.

"Mistress has asked for my help today. She wants me to hurt you." Schulz turns to watch the bottom edge of the tapestry rise up towards the ceiling. "Wouldn't want to get blood on the artwork."

A bullwhip uncoils on the floor next to Schulz.

My impostor sighs and turns her eyes back towards the cinder block wall.

Schulz grabs a handful of my impostor's hair and yanks her head towards her. "Good to see you have hair again, Heartless. You almost look human."

Now is when I would attack.

I'm stunned when suddenly my impostor's left leg rises off the ground and begins to swing in for an attack. A pain rips up from my abdomen and I hear a loud belching sound followed by coughing.

Schulz is still on her feet but she is holding her thigh. "Ow! Fuck!"

My impostor is struggling to steady herself back onto the toes of her left foot. I can feel her diaphragm contracting and squeezing as she grunts and gags. It's the fucking conditioning! My impostor's attack should have required knee surgery to fix, but, instead, thanks to the sudden abdominal pain, would result in no more than a bruise. I felt proud and sorry for my impostor. Today is going to be a bad day.

Schulz has regained her composure and she is starting to laugh. "Still sickened by violence, Heartless. You must really hate me."

Oh, my poor impostor, you almost had her!

Schulz kicks my impostor's left foot out from underneath her and I can feel the strain on my other three limbs as my impostor flails around to regain her balance yet again.

"Now," Schulz continues. "What was I saying? Oh, yes! I'm going to hurt you a little for Mistress today."

Schulz cracks the whip out across the room for effect.

"And after I'm done hurting you a little for her, I'm going to hurt you a lot, but it will be all for my own enjoyment."

Schulz backs away wielding the whip so that it begins to dance about the room.

Oh, shit! My impostor turns away from Schulz as she moves away and pulls her shoulders close to her ears to protect her head as much as possible.

A whip makes a particularly effective cracking sound when the free tip exceeds the speed of sound. The speed of sound is 768 mph (1236 kph). Schulz demonstrates a series of expertly swung strokes which fill the room with loud explosions of crackling air. The crack after the third is blunted when it encounters the flesh of my impostor's back.

I hear my impostor's cry of pain as a sensation of unbearable heat brands itself across my back. I feel my gyrations in my shell challenging the surfaces that confine me. I, myself, try to yell only to feel the choke of tubes jammed down my throat.

Oh, holy shit! That hurt! And the air is already alive with the sound of another incoming.

Fuck!

A stroke of the whip causes flashes of light in my eyes. My ears are filled with my impostor's screams and chains pulled taut. The cinderblock wall dances in my view coated with a splattering of spit. I feel my impostor's left toes frantically flailing for the floor to achieve some form of control.

---

The cinder wall is blurry, now. My tears, maybe. Maybe my impostor's. She is unconscious, the lucky cunt. Her head snaps erratically after each impact. I did not pass out though. I'm not sure whether to be thankful that I don't feel things as intensely as she. After she passed out the beating continued on and I was left to feel each peel across my back. Certainly, my impostor is bleeding. I wonder if I am. It feels like it.

I feel my head jerk back by my hair. Schulz is breathless with exertion staring into my impostor's unfocused eyes.

"Had enough, you fucking bitch?" she yells.

She lets go. I hear the electric motor engage and feel myself crumble in slow motion onto the cold, hard floor.

---

This has been the worst. Even at times when Mistress has visited and I see her looks of concern I am uncertain whether my vision of her is real or not. My impostor has not moved much for who knows how long. She is rarely conscious. She is not me. She is not me.

She is not me... I have recovered well enough. I do not feel pain. But guards and attendants apply compresses to my impostor's back and I can feel her muscles flinch and I hear her moans. She is not me.

My sleep is erratic. Sometimes I awaken to darkness because my impostor is asleep. Or I awaken and she is awake but unmoving and I am freaking out. And sometimes I am certain that I am awaking in hell or whatever with my hands gripped around necks, breaking them. Maybe Schulz's neck. Maybe Mistress' neck. Or my impostor's or my own. A neck is a neck. It's feel is defined by its physical nature, not the emotional attachment that one might have to it. The way they resist a tight squeeze. The way they crush.

My impostor is shaking. She must have a fever.

Mistress is cursing Schulz under her breath and talks about making her a Soft Inside.

I'm soft inside. I'm rotting away inside my impostor.

---

My normal contingent of guards arrive and apply their heavy steel ball to my impostor's collar.

Things started getting better once she was able to eat again. She started to exercise, pushups and situps, and even though I am still held immobile miles away in a hard, tight shell. I FEEL like I am moving and active again. My impostor even masturbated a couple of times which made me cry and laugh silently as she pushed herself over the edge and I languished in need.

My stomach... and I mean MY stomach becomes ill when I realize that the guards have brought me to the room with the shackles hanging from the ceiling and the wall which the tapestry is supposed to cover is exposed. The heavy steel ball is unlocked from my collar, but reattached to my ankle. I could run, but not easily.

Mistress walks into the room. There is another woman with her dressed smartly in black spandex. She looks at my impostor and smiles.

"Elif!" I think.

"Elif!" my impostor exclaims. Elif steps in close and kisses my impostor gently on the cheek. We have never been friends, but we have always respected each other's work. I almost feel a sense of regret that we never spent much time together. I've always liked Elif.

The door opens again and Schulz walks in. She is smirking. I am cursing in my head loudly. My impostor settles her body and tightens her jaw and a fist.

"I'm happy to see that you are on your feet again, Heartless," Schulz says. "I did not think that a little lashing would take you down for such a long time." Schulz then turns to Mistress. "She is unbroken, just as I promised, Mistress."

"She is," Mistress states. "Your promise has been good, on that front." Mistress drops something at my impostor's feet. When my impostor looks down, I see it is a bullwhip. "There is, however, an issue with one of my rules being broken." Mistress presses a button on a remote and a monitor flickers to life across the room.

I notice that Schulz's smirk has disappeared.

On the screen, I see my impostor hanging from her chains. Her back is horribly striped and streaked with blood. Schulz walks into the frame and grabs my impostor by the hair and screams, "Had enough, you fucking bitch!?"

"What are my rules about that word, Schulz?" Mistress states slowly.

Schulz defends her actions. "I was taunting her. Suggesting that you would turn her into a pet dog, in which case, it would be an accurate description..."

"Is Heartless a dog, Schulz?" Mistress asks.

"No, but..."

"Is she a dog!?" Mistress screams.

"No..." Schulz says. Her face is lowered but her eyes are glancing amongst the three of us menacingly.

"What is the punishment for using the word 'Bitch', Schulz?" Mistress asks.

After a pause, Schulz exhales a bit. "Ten lashes..."

"No exceptions!" Mistress screams. "Take off your fucking clothes and get in the chains, Schulz."

Schulz's nostrils are flaring. She seems to evaluate her situation for a moment before she slowly begins to pull her clothes off - glancing at each of us repeatedly.

"Heartless," Mistress says. "It's your right to apply the lashes."

Oh, yes! I am cursing the fact that I am in this shell, in this prison, many miles away. Regardless, I will savor every sound and langor in the feel of the whip responding to my impostor's grip.

I wonder how much damage I could do to Schulz with ten lashes. I wonder if my impostor could do the same.

Schulz has locked her right ankle in its shackle. She reaches up and wraps the cuffs around her wrists as well. The electric motor turns on and she is pulled to a point. She is big-boned. Her body is firm and voluptuous. The muscles of her left leg are smooth and well curved. The light of the room reflects beautifully off her skin as she balances. Her breath has become ragged and she is trying her best to look over her shoulder at my impostor.

"Proceed," Mistress says.

My impostor bends over and picks up the bullwhip. She flicks it out across the floor to get a sense of its length and then begins to move to a position for optimal utilization, dragging the steel ball attached to her ankle across the floor with a heavy, industrial, ragged grind.

My impostor looks up to target Schulz.

"Come on, you fuck!" Schulz screams. "Get it over with!"

My impostor raises her arm. I hear her own breath beginning to whistle. As for myself, I must be holding my breath. The whip rises into the air, and I feel a strange lurch. I hear a gagging sound and the whip settles to the floor again.

Fuck! Feel your anger, Cunt! Whip Schulz!

The whip goes back into the air and circles once above my impostor's head.

That's it! I could kill Schulz.

But, then... there is another lurch and the whip falls to the ground again. I feel the contraction of my abdominal muscles again and my impostor is retching dry heaves.

Schulz is starting to laugh a hysterical, relieved kind of laugh as my impostor falls to her knees and stares at the floor, burping and grasping her stomach.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," my impostor whispers. "I am broken."

Mistress walks over to my impostor. I feel her hand rubbing my impostor's hair in a soothing manner.

"It's okay, Heartless," she whispers.

"Okay, great! Can I get down now?" Schulz asks.

Mistress helps my impostor back to her feet. "Come over here, Heartless," she beckons.

My impostor drags the heavy steel ball to the side of the room where Mistress has indicated.

"Hello?" Schulz calls out.

Mistress stares into my impostor's eyes. After a moment a small smile seems to flicker across her lips. "You tried, my love." She leans in and I feel my Mistress' lips slide across mine. Across my impostor's lips and across mine. Far away.

"Sorry, Schulz. No exceptions!" Mistress states. "Elif! Apply the strokes."

"Wha-! No!" Schulz screams.

I see Elif walk to the bullwhip and pick it up, but by the time she is flicking it around the room my attention has returned, in full, to my Mistress who is pulling her shirt over her head. She tosses it to the side and begins to press her breasts into mine. She is so warm and soft. I feel her lips on my lips and her tongue pushes into my mouth.

The sound of the whip cracking makes my impostor jump slightly. Schulz's screams only seem to intensify Mistress' carnal attack. My impostor seems to realize that, for the first time since her return, her hands are free to roam across Mistress' body. Suddenly, they are sliding around her hips, feeling the curves and dimples of her lower back. My impostor is crying and I feel wet hair stick to her cheeks as she kisses my Mistress. Her hands slide up cupping Mistress' breast, passionately kneading the skin of her back.

Meanwhile, the sound of the whip and Schulz's screams continue to wrap the three of us, my Mistress, my impostor, and I, and my impostor's hands rise up to my Mistress neck. I can feel the soft skin of the base of her neck under my impostor's thumbs. She's my Goddess, but still, for me she is so vulnerable...

Oh, shit! No! Get away, Mistress!!

My impostor's hands are wrapped around her throat. Mistress has stopped her carnal manipulations. Her eyes are growing cold suddenly. Her smile is quickly turning to a frown. I feel my hands wrapped gently around her neck. Pausing there...

But then the second is over and my impostor's hands have released Mistress' neck and are now cradling her head and her lips, my lips, are devouring my Mistress' lips. I have lost the passion of the moment. My heart is racing with fear, still certain that Mistress is in mortal danger.

"Done," Elif says from far off.

"Leave," Mistress responds between moans. My impostor's hands are now pulling down on Mistress' tight, yoga spandex pants while still chewing and nipping on her lips and tongue. The pants are now around her knees.

Mistress screams and her body is pulled away from mine - from my impostor's. She tumbles down to the floor.

Schulz is dripping in sweat. Her fist is already about to crack into my jaw before I have the presence to react. And that is too late. I feel myself tumble across the floor. My eyes are out of focus.

"Get up, Cunt!" I scream in my mind. "Come on, Heartless! Get off the floor! She has Mistress!"

My vantage does not change at all. My impostor is unconscious, but I am not. I hear chains rattling and Mistress and Schulz screaming at one another. I hear the electric motor whirring.

I can't see what is going on. "Wake up, Heartless!"

I hear the whip crack and I hear a scream. I am so desperate with fear.

Suddenly, my impostor is awake. She stands and turns to see Mistress hanging from the chains. A bloody red gash is already opened across her back. Schulz is looking pretty ragged as well, naked and bleeding, but it does not deter her from wielding the whip high up in the air, preparing for another stroke.

My impostor leaps at Schulz. Her hands are trained on her neck, but my impostor's ankle is still restrained by the steel ball, so the attack falls short. Instead my hands are tangled in Schulz's hair, pulling at her ears. I feel my abdomen clench and my impostor starts to gag.

"Get off me," Schulz screams and jabs her elbow into my impostor's gut.

The contractions have become so strong that my impostor's unburdened foot lifts off the ground involuntarily, but she refuses to release the tentative grasp she has on Schulz's head.

My impostor repositions her hands. I feel her thumb slip over the curve of Schulz's cheek and into the gelatinous mass of her left eye.

Blood begins to spill out across my impostor's hands and Schulz is screaming. Vomit is spraying out of my impostor's mouth and she collapses to the floor.

Suddenly, Elif and other guards are jumping on my impostor. Schulz's face is covered in blood and she is screaming and flailing as a number of guards hold her down.

---

The door opens to my impostor's dungeon cell and guards file in. My Mistress also walks in. Her eyes have bags under them. She is wearing a robe and walking tenderly. My impostor stands and Mistress pulls her into her arms.

"It's you, Heartless! It IS you! You tried to save me even though you physically couldn't!"

"Of course, Mistress," my impostor says. "I love you! I don't care about anything else." And that is the truth. I DO love Mistress so much. There is not much in life to tie yourself to, and that is a sad thought. But I love Mistress and I can tie myself to that and it will always sustain me.

After holding me for a while, Mistress steps back. "I have to go away for a bit. Elif and I have this thing we have to do in Eatonton. It's a simple thing... a simple job. But when I return, I'll get you out of this dungeon and maybe we can find out how you can be with me more."

My impostor smiles and nods her head vigorously. "I would love to be with you as much as you will have me!" she exclaims.

Mistress and the guards leave and my impostor is pumping her fist in the air in victory as she sits on her cot - the chain from her collar, rattling and shaking along its entire length up to the ceiling of the cell.

"Yes!" I think, wishing I could pump my fist too. I can't wait for Mistress' return...

Wait a second...

I am not my impostor! She is a spy! This is the worst thing that can happen! NO!