Virtual Sexuality Ch. 03

Chapter Three: Kendra

The dreams have haunted me for as long as I can remember, haunted me and titillated me. I've never talked about them with anyone. I mean, how can you tell someone that you dream of being tortured in a dungeon and that those dreams are NOT nightmares, that they leave you aroused and in need of some serious fuck time when you wake up. It may be the 21st century, but people who want to be hurt are still locked up for their own good.

It doesn't help that my dream self gets off on the torture. I don't mean aroused, I mean gut wrenching climaxes. In the midst of a brutal whipping that has me screaming in agony, I will have an orgasm. Or at least I'll start having one. I always wake up just as I start to cum. Really kind of frustrating, actually. Waking up by yourself with an incredible need to get fucked is not easy to deal with. I've taken to sleeping with 'max' under my pillow. I've considered sleeping with it in my cunt.

Anyway, I digress. I'm not someone who is stuck in the 20th century. I know all about domination and submission, you know the entire BDSM lifestyle. I've even researched it to see if some desire for such things could be the source of the dreams. Everything I've read tells me that climaxing to pain is not real, but the stuff of porn. It's also very scary to even think of letting someone have that much power over you. I would have to have a deeply loving and trusting relationship with someone first before I would even consider submitting to them.

That brings us up to today. Kevin told me about one of the specialty matrices that they have in Virtual Sexuality. They actually have a dungeon VR program, where you can experience, in the total safety of the artificial world, sexual torture. I've read up on their new system, and the subconscious feedback system sounds perfect for me. My dreams come from my subconscious, so I should experience my dreams and, at least experience the orgasm that keeps waking me up. More important, maybe I'll figure out just what it is all about.

I got off work at 5 and headed straight for the new arcade. Parking was tight and I had to set the car to hover parking. Good thing the battery was fully charged. Inside, there was a line at the counter and a tall brunette was yelling at the top of her lungs at the receptionist.

"I am so fucking tired of getting this run around. Where in the hell is Melanie?"

The receptionist was trying to answer her, "Julie, please. We already told you that she exited before you did and left. In the five days since, she has not been back. It's not like we have any control over where our customers go after they leave."

"That's it! You'll be hearing from my lawyers, do you hear? You ass wipes did something to her and I'm going to find out what!"

This Julie person stormed out, causing everyone in line, including myself, to look away in embarrassment. The three people in line ahead of me were quickly taken care of, seeming to know just what they wanted. Looking behind me, I saw that there were two more people and I waved them ahead of me. Once I was alone at the counter, she addressed me.

"Welcome to Virtual Sexuality. How can I help you?"

"I hope so. A friend was telling me about your place and he mentioned something called a dungeon?"

"Yes, it's one of our specialty simulations. While not our most popular matrix, it is the most consistently praised. Are you interested in a virtual BDSM experience?"

"Kind of. How realistic will it be?"

"Well, our system accesses your subconscious, so it will be as real as your inner desires are. You should understand, I don't know much about that particular fetish, and I've never used that program, so I have no reference points. I would expect that it is as accurate a model of real life BDSM as our other programs are of measuring compatibility. In other words, not very. But, you will have the experience that you've always dreamed of, even if you never remember those dreams."

I blushed at that remark. Other's may not remember those dreams, but I did. "I've heard that real BDSM has something called 'safe words'. Does your simulation have such safeguards?"

"My understanding is that your exit icon is your safe word in the simulation."

"That sounds reasonable. I'd like to schedule time in the dungeon please."

She had the usual VR releases to sign and then I was shown to one of the back rooms by a technician. The room had a half dozen couches, two of which had clients under the hood already. As she was placing the hood over my head, she asked, "What would you like your safe word/exit icon to be?"

"Phoenix. Ah, will there be any interaction between myself and the others?"

"Not normally, but if two people have desires for slave to slave interaction, it can happen."

"So this simulation doesn't allow for people to be in the position of...?"

"Torturer? Yes it does, but it's actually quite rare. Most people with that fantasy end up requesting a solitary matrix. Are you ready?"

"Yes." There was a minute or so of bright white light and then I was standing in a dungeon. That's the only way to describe the place. Stone walls and floor. Chains with manacles on the walls. A rack. Several tables that people could be tied down to. There was even a cage suspended from the ceiling with someone in it, crouched over, unable to stand, and an iron maiden.

I was naked. There was a man in a leather mask standing before me. Other than the mask, he had a pair of shorts made from some course fabric and a pair of boots. His cock was clearly erect under his pants. Myself, I was shorter than in real life, with longer hair and larger breasts that needed no support. My pussy hair was missing. There were steel manacles on my wrists and ankles, with a steel collar on my neck.

The man in the mask yelled at me, "Get on your knees bitch!"

I stared at him, totally unprepared for the remark. At my hesitation, he struck me across the face with a backhanded blow that threw me to the ground. Now, if you're wondering why I was surprised if I was to be living out a dream I had already seen, it's because my dreams start with me already shackled somewhere. I tried to climb up to my knees and he grabbed my hair and yanked me up. I cried out in pain, causing him to laugh.

He belittled me over the sounds of someone screaming in agony nearby, "Stupid cunt slave. You are at my mercy and will be whining even louder than that by the time I'm done with you. Now lick my boots clean before I have to get my whip so soon."

I was terrified. I bent down and licked his boots, tasting the revolting mixture of dirt and straw from the floor. He held my back down until I had covered both his boots with saliva from my tongue. Then he dragged me to my feet and over to one of the tables. The source of the screams was visible now, a man bound against a wall, being whipped by another man with a cat-o-nine-tails. Red welt covered his back and ass. Tears were filling my eyes as I watched the abuse being inflicted on him.

"On the table slut! Face down!"

I climbed on the table. He dragged each of my limbs to one corner and fastened the manacles to a strap and pulled them tight enough that I could not move. I was shocked that my pussy was already wet. I was aroused by what was happening to me. It seems that I do desire this brutality, at least on some level. He tied a cloth around my eyes, blindfolding me. I heard him walk away.

I lay there for what seemed like a very long time. The man's screams faded, replaced my lingering moans. I could also hear chains rattling, much like they were being rolled up. This was followed by a metal on metal screech and the whimpering of another woman. My breasts were crushed beneath me painfully. I could get no relief as I was barely able to wiggle, let alone lift my chest.

I barely had time to hear the swish before fire exploded on my back. I screamed in pain, my muscles pulling against the manacles, causing them to bite into my wrists and ankles. Another rain of fire impacted my thighs and my screams had no chance to abate before trying to start up again. Over and over, the instrument, I never got a look at it, impacted me and started yet another blaze across my back somewhere.

It never occurred to me to use my safe word, though I wasn't sure why at first. When this round of whipping stopped, and the pain began to slowly ebb, I realized that I was lying in a wet spot the table. I was dripping juice and I could recognize that I was not just aroused, but incredibly aroused. It was just like in my dreams. I was being brutally tortured and getting off on it. I wanted the end, the orgasm I never got in my dreams.

He returned and released the manacles. He tipped the table and I slid unceremoniously onto the floor. "Get up bitch!" he ordered. I climbed to my feet and waited for his next orders. Pussy juice was beginning to run down my legs and my nipples were erect, painfully so. My breathing was ragged, as much from the fading pain as from the arousal I was feeling.

I was led to a section that had chains hanging down from the ceiling, manacles on the ends. He locked my hands into the manacles and operated a control that caused the chains I was in raise up. My arms were pulled above my head. By the time he had stopped, I was standing on my toes with my arms pulled straight up. It took no time at all for my calves and arms to start aching.

He reached down and stuck a finger in my pussy. I gasped at the touch. I started trembling as my body responded like a tightly wound spring, leaping to levels of pleasure that I had never dreamed of. He leaned in and bit my left breast, pinching the areola between his teach. I screamed, more from the near climax he induced than from the pain. Two more fingers penetrated my cunt and he practically lifted me off my feet with his hand. He brought me to the edge of orgasm and then let go.

I cried out in frustration that combined with the agony in my shoulders and legs. Sobs wracked my body as the orgasm I so desperately wanted fell back, leaving me abandoned. He walked off, leaving me alone. "No, please. Don't leave me. I need you, I need you to fuck me, please," I cried out to his back. He ignored me, walking to where I could not see him. I hung there for I don't know how long, the manacles cutting into my wrists, my shoulders feeling like they were being ripped out and my legs in a near constant state of cramping.

When he came back, he was carrying a rod that glowed at one end. He walked around me, looking at me, fingering my body, causing me to jerk, leading to even more pain. He touched the rod's glowing end to my belly. There were sparks and I screamed at the massive electrical shock that ran through my body, as I convulsed. "Please, no, not again. I'll do anything, just not again." He ignored me and touched the electrical prod against me again. I screamed even louder, sobbing as I begged him, "No. Please no. Anything. I'll do anything. No. Not again."

"Will you, will you really do anything?"

"Yes," I sobbed. "Anything. Just not again, please."

"Very well. But fail me, and I will not just touch you with the prod, I will hold it against you for minutes at a time."

He lowered me to the ground and released my wrists. Dragging me by my hands, straining my already tortured shoulders even more, her took me to a stocks. Knowing what he wanted, I placed my head and arms in the appropriate holes so that he could lock the cross bar into place, trapping me yet again. He came around front and brought a gag to my face. I panicked. Gagged, I would be unable to say my exit icon. I screamed, "Phoenix!"

There was a flash of bright white, and I was on the couch again, safe from the torture chamber in my mind. The technician removed the hood and asked, "How was it?"

"Terrifying. He was going to gag me. How do I get out when I can't say my safe word?"

"The only reason that you would be gagged is if your subconscious desire was to be unable to escape. Even if that happens, you will still be pulled out in an hour. One customer said that she asked to be gagged, to intensify the experience. It's perfectly safe. Remember, nothing that happens in VR can hurt you in any way."

"I'm not sure I would go that far."

"Most wouldn't. Do you plan on returning sometime in the future?"

"I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

I left the arcade and went home. That night, I could not sleep. I relived the experience over and over. The more I did, the more aroused I got. I pinched my nipples, pinched them so hard it hurt. As I increased the pressure and the pain increased, I became more and more aroused. My pussy was dripping, soaking the sheet beneath me. I reached down and stroked it, crying out at the intensity of the pleasure I was giving myself.

On a whim, I threw my covers off, raised my hand high and slapped it against my cunt as hard as I could. Shit! That hurt, yet I was even closer to an orgasm than before. I wondered if I could slap myself to a climax. I couldn't help myself. The memories of the virtual dungeon were so intense and hot, I had to know, could I cum from just pain? I slapped my pussy again, gasping at the sensation. Again and again I hit my cunt, feeling my juice spatter against my legs and belly. With each swat, I got closer and closer. I lost track of how many it took, but I actually came!

I locked up, screaming uncontrollably. Waves of pleasure and pain swept over me side by side. My back was arched and I couldn't breathe. It seemed to go on forever. When the orgasm finally subsided, I was covered in sweat and pussy fluid, I was gasping for breathe and I knew I would never be the same. I had slapped myself into the most furious orgasm I had ever had. I could not help but wonder what kind of climax I could have in the dungeon where the only limit was what my subconscious desires wanted. I would be returning.

I was useless at work the next day. All I could think about was tonight, venturing back to the hell hole of my inner desires. What would I be subject to next time? Would I repeat the same experiences? Or would my desires change like some living entity? All I knew for certain was that I wanted to experience the whole thing, no reservations. I wanted no escape possible before the hour was up.

During my lunch, I accessed their public access page on the web. They had an extensive listing of their available matrices. In addition to the public matrix and solitary matrices, there were 14 different specialty venues. They included such things as the dungeon, an underwater matrix, an animal simulator (where, apparently, you were visualized as an animal, incapable of anything an animal could not do), a rape simulation, a gender swapping simulator, and several psuedo-historical recreations. It took some time, but I found their safety and liability section. It was possible to enter without an exit icon, but required a separate release to be signed.

As I headed for the arcade, I was a little frightened of what I was contemplating. Without a safe word in the simulation, I would have no way to back out if it got to be too much. After last time, I had no idea just what my mind would create for me. The excruciating agony that I endured last time would go on for much longer. I had only been in for 20 real minutes when I had bolted. Three times that length of time with, if I was judging correctly, the pain levels increasing the whole time. Could I really do it? Was I being an idiot? But I just had to know, to experience that mysterious orgasm at the end of the torture.

"Welcome back to Virtual Sexuality. What can we do for you today?"

I was there, at the counter. I felt like someone else was talking through my voice as I told her what I wanted.

"I'd like a dungeon scene, without an exit icon."

She looked at me, a serious, or was it concerned, look on her face. "Are you sure ma'am? The exit icon is for your peace of mind. We strongly recommend against that decision."

"Yes, I'm sure. Dungeon. No icon." My palms were sweating and I felt like I was shaking.

"Very well ma'am. Company policy requires that you receive one on one counseling on this decision. If you will step this way?"

She put a 'back in one minute' sign on the counter and led me away to a back room, an office really. She knocked and led me in what someone inside said, "Come in."

"Mr. Smith, this lady wishes to use the dungeon without an exit icon."

"I see. Thank you Connie. Have a seat Ms. ..."

"Melnac, Kendra Melnac."

"Right. Ms. Melnac, let me explain the purpose of the exit icons. There is absolutely no danger, physically, from the virtual realities themselves that we offer here at Virtual Sexuality. Nothing you experience in the VR matrices can affect your real body in any way. Yes, there is the minimal chance of brain damage that all VR equipment can cause, but that is a hardware issue, not a software issue. Psychologically, however, things are different. It turns out that knowing something can't hurt you is not enough to make people feel safe. There has to be the possibility of escape. It's almost never used, but simply being there is reassuring. When you have no exit icon, you react differently inside. For most people in most circumstances, there is no harm done, it actually heightens the experience. But, the desire to escape, if totally thwarted, can cause mental debilitation. Some of the early beta testers found themselves suffering from paranoid delusions after enduring an inescapable situation that they did not want. We don't want to run that risk with our customers, if we can avoid it.

"Just why do you want to experience this particular matrix with no hope of escape? No one has ever asked for this particular simulation without an exit icon. In fact, most users of the dungeon seem to have an almost religious attachment to safe words. Why not you?"

"I really need to experience the full time, the whole thing. I've dreamed of this experience repeatedly in the last several months, but my dreams end just before the climatic moment. I need to see it through, see what is just beyond my dream experience."

"There's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise?"

"No. Nothing. I guess you could say I'm obsessed. It's not like I will be trapped in the matrix forever."

An odd expression passed across his face, like I had said something disturbing. I guess what I was asking for was disturbing. To be sent into a place of torture with no hope of escape until I had experienced everything that my tormentors intended for me. That would disturb most people.

"Very well. This is a release that absolves Virtual Sexuality of any liability for sending you in without an exit icon. You need to not only sign, but write a simple statement that you understand the risks and take full and sole responsibility for the decision."

I wrote the statement and signed the form. Connie returned and processed me through the normal procedure and I paid my $25. A technician led me back to the dungeon room and hooked me up to the machine. He made one more attempt to talk me out of it.

"Are you sure about having no exit icon? I could program it to only work after a set number of uses, separated by time."

"I'm sure. No safe word,"

He shook his head, played with the machine and I was sent through the flash of white light to join the other three people in the dungeon.

I was naked again, on my hands an knees, the cold stone of the dungeon sapping the heat from my body. SWAT! Pain erupted in my ass.

"Get up slave! We have unfinished business to attend to."

I looked up and saw the same torturer that I had encountered last time. I stood, uneasy on my feet. Looking at the floor, I asked, "What do you wish Master?"

"That's right, I'm your Master. Get over to the chains." His whip struck out to emphasize his point with another burst of pain.