EXTRACT FOR
Digital Slave v5
(Melissa DuVant)
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Digital Slave V5 Melissa DuVant Copyright © Melissa DuVant The right of Melissa DuVant to be identified as the
author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of
the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic
mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including
xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or
retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. All characters in this book have no existence
outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone
bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any
individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure
invention. Chapter Two: An Unknowing Start Chapter Five: Contractually Binding Chapter Seven: Pressured Photoshoot Chapter Eight: Behind-the-Scenes Meeting Chapter Ten: Error in Prod Environment Chapter Eleven: Engineering Callout Chapter Twelve: Audio Recording Session Chapter Thirteen: Contractual Requirements Chapter Fourteen: Equipment Penalties Chapter Fifteen: Live-Stream Promotion Chapter Sixteen: Containment Protocol Chapter Seventeen: Brand Identity Chapter Eighteen: Teamwork, Dreamwork Chapter Nineteen: Audience Testing Chapter Twenty: A Rejected Model Chapter Twenty-One: Packaged for Convenience Chapter Twenty-Two: Promotional Uses Epilogue: Display Model, Slightly Used Prisonette's Dilemma: Chapter 1 - An Uneasy Meeting E-girls and so forth are hot, but please don't be creepy and weird to them, because then they might stop their businesses, which would be a shame! Now, date unknown, sixty seconds left. Bri crawled forward,
hearing the timer ticking down, already flinching for when the pain was
triggered. Her neck was sore still, the metal
collar heavy, chafing and rubbing, the points where the electrodes touched the
worse, right at the base of her neck, raw and painful even before being shocked. The timer meant she might be able to evade
pain, at least for a while, while silence meant doubt and agony. The seconds kept ticking down, loud and heavy
as she tried to get into position, the square marked out with tape on the
floor. She rose, fumbling into an
awkward crouch, upwards from all fours, feeling the chains that bound her knees
together tightening up, making her stumble. There was no warning,
her collar triggering as she rose up, snarling hard enough to make her topple
to the side, unable to move, barely able to think. She wasn't allowed to be a person today, she
should have stayed down on all fours, like the pet she... like the pet she was... Her thoughts shuddered, but the memories were
too strong, of having to crawl around, barely allowed to actually stand and
walk, rarely allowed to talk. The collar,
locked in place, reminded her of her place, of how she had to obey and serve. The seconds kept on ticking
down, as she tried to wrestle back control of her body, frantically crawling
forward, just about getting into the marked space as the timer ran out, the air
now silent, somehow even more ominous. There was no chance to
relax though, as a metal slot opened up, and a cock, already hard and wanting
attention, slid through. She looked at
it with distaste, hating the desire burning inside of her, but the clock was
ticking again. She kissed the tip,
sliding her tongue around, before opening her mouth wide. Her stomach rumbled, her throat sore from
lack of water - she was being punished for... something? Yesterday...
Had it been yesterday? How long
had it been since she had been allowed to sleep? The cock was hot and fat,
filling her throat, easily sliding down, making her gulp and gasp. On the wall in front of her, she could see the
black bead-eye of the camera, always watching, recording every movement she
made, as she impaled her throat on the cock, her gag-reflex long-since trained
out of her. But as long as she kept her
fans happy, then she might be able to avoid further punishment! She wanted to not be hurt, even if it meant
doing things like this. She drew her head all
the way back, kissing along the side of
the cock, feeling it tense up. At least
this one was a decent size! Before it
could climax, she took it into her mouth again - better that then having it
spray into her room, leaving the scent around, and getting her punished again. It bucked, spewing cum
into her mouth. The taste filled her dry
mouth, slicking her tongue. She couldn't
avoid a flush of pleasure running through her body, her crotch tensing up. If she was good, maybe she would be allowed
clothing? Being naked, even on her own... It was just another reminder of the lack of
power she had, the inability to decide anything. And that reminded her
of the metal that had been embedded into her body, the barbells through her
small, pert breasts, and the rings through each of her lower lips. Even now, after however long it had been, she
could still feel them, even behind the metal that was locked around her privates. She almost forgot to
show off her achievement by swallowing, but remembered in time, turning her
head to the camera and opening her mouth, showing off the sticky, white paste,
rolling her tongue around, her eyes downcast, cold shame mingling with the heat
of arousal. A ding sound indicated
that her success had been acknowledged, the now shrinking cock retreating back
through the slot, and she swallowed, feeling the hot slime down her throat,
making her want actual water. She'd been
naughty recently, even if she couldn't quite remember what she had done, a
constant haze of tiredness that made remembering hard, even without the
constant pain of the collar. Part of the wall
rattled, something dropping into place, making her shiver and whimper. Anything out of the ordinary meant pain and
suffering - she liked it here, at least compared to outside. Here, all she had to do was degrade herself,
use her mouth to pleasure cocks, and sometimes her other holes, but outside,
outside hurt. A panel opened,
revealing a black leather hood, currently empty. It was dirty, covered with sweat and cum
smears, and she shook her head, whimpering, not wanting to put it on. Her collar bit and
snarled at her, making her whole body shudder, hurting her, making her cry out
in pain, still tasting the cum in her mouth.
Could she withstand the pain, refuse the order? She curled up into a ball, shuddering and
twitching, the pain getting worse and worse.
Her neck was on fire, her whole body descending into agony, her lips
tightly clamped together. It was too much! She reached out, arm shaking, fingers barely
controlled and picked the hood up, hating even the feel of it. It took several tries to open it up, her body
hard to make move as she wanted to, and then she pulled it over her head. It pressed in around her, terrifying claustrophobia
flowing into her, her hands freezing before a moment before she was able to
complete the movement and pull it into place. The scent of it was
vile, sweat and cum, and it blocked her sight completely. Every time she inhaled, the taste-odour
intensified, coiling in the back of her throat.
She didn't like being hooded, not being able to see, something
else taken from her that she couldn't control.
It was like being a toy and having the batteries pulled out - she felt
tired already, wanting to sleep now it was dark. She heard the door
open, heavy metal locks moving. Fresher
air filled the room, flowing over her bare skin. Some device made a clicking noise, more of her
training being triggered, and she started to crawl forward, hands and knees
scraping against the floor. It was easy to tell
when she crossed the threshold, the floor wooden laminate. It was her house! But any indignation at being controlled and
used was hard to sustain, as she crawled forward, wondering if she was being watched. Whoever she had just sucked off was probably
still here? The hood muffled her hearing,
so even if there was someone watching, she couldn't tell. But then there was something
she could hear - the tinny opening bars of the music she used when opening a
stream. Was she being recorded? Was it being broadcast? Without any other orders, she kept crawling,
unsure where anything was - when she had been allowed to control anything, then
the couch had been here, opposite the TV.
But it seemed to be vacant now? The
lack of knowledge, lack of control, made her shiver and twitch, not
knowing what was about to happen, but the cum-scent was oozing into her brain,
turning her on against her wishes. There was a cracking
sound, and it took a moment for the sensation to filter through her body, something
hard and stiff slapping against her buttocks, stinging pain and another dash of
shame. She grunted in protest, raising
her head, but her collar tingled in warning, forcing her back down onto all
fours. Whatever it was struck against
her backside again, even harder, making her skin tingle and prickle from the
impact. She thrust her ass up,
hating the way the pain rippled through her, making her body heat up, an
unwanted surge of desire coming through between her legs. The metal crotch-piece felt far too tight,
and then another strike hit it, driving it against her skin, hurting more than
the strikes against her skin. Another click, this
one felt more than heard, and it took her a moment to realise what it was -
from around her waist, the crotch-piece unlocked, starting to fall away from
her body under its own weight. She
tensed her thighs, wanting to keep it in place, wanting the protection of it,
not wanting to be exposed and accessible to anyone. It fell away from her
body, hitting the floor, the air coiling and curling against her now-bare pussy. She was already wet, feeling herself ready
for fucking, her body wanting it, her mind unable to rebel. A foot pressed down hard
against her head, forcing it against the floor, a heavy sole pressing down onto
her. Her butt raised up, and she felt
herself flush, hot, excited and ashamed, not knowing who was pinning her in
place so hard. Something hot, thick and
sticky splattered all over her back, making her wince, hoping it wasn't what
she knew it to be. The splatter was thick
and heavy, feeling hot, like it should burn, soaking into her skin. Her ass was slapped again,
and then hands, wrapped in gloves, pushed against her skin, peeling her lips
open. She moaned as something slid into
her, a thick, rigid dildo, large enough to stretch her out, full and
satisfying. Another spasming jet of cum
splashed over her, as she started to buck her hips, taking the thing deeper and
deeper into herself. It felt good,
more than she wanted to admit! The foot removed
itself, a hand then grabbing her head, as she supported herself on all fours, the
cock still pumping in and out. The hood
was suddenly torn off, bright spotlights hurting her eyes, several camera lenses
staring at her, harsh-outlined shapes looming over her. A blast of cum hit her in the face, gumming an
eye shut, and she groaned, unable to contain herself from the dildo fucking her. The lights on the cameras stared at her, every
one turned on, recording and broadcasting her degradation to the world, to
anyone who cared to see. She couldn't escape, getting
fucked from behind, unable to see who was using her, more cum splattering onto
her. Being used like this, and shown off
to everyone... She was powerless, some of
the stuff hitting her face, her tongue sliding out to lick at it, making her
die a little more inside. Behind this, projected
onto the wall, she could see what video was being streamed - her own body,
shining brightly with reflected light, skin sweaty and marked with cum, the
chat logs down the side filled with excited emojis, words she couldn't make out. But the viewing figures she could see - a huge
number, larger than she had ever achieved before, a number she had dreamed of. But she hadn't wanted to be seen like
this! Disgraced and use, a pole shoving
a dildo into her pussy! That was pulled
aside, and then a male figure, face covered by a hood, knelt in place behind
her, grabbing her hips and shoving his cock, a real cock into her. It felt even better
than the dildo, bigger, hotter, filling her in an even more pleasurable way,
and she twisted her hips back onto it, the length filling her entirely. It felt better then she could imagine, the sensation
overwhelming, sending her into a maddened daze, desperately twisting and
thrusting with her hips, wanting to get off as soon as possible, despite the shame
of this being broadcast, trying to remember how this had happened... Then, six months ago, thirty seconds left... The timer ticked down, close to the end of the match. 25. Bri leaned in, fingers tapping on the keyboard, weaving left and right through the storm of bullets, her life ticking down, but just about hanging on. She raised her shields, blue aura shimmering into life, just in time to absorb the scything white energy beam that cut through the air. 20. Where the hell was he? Too much smoke, filling the air, wrecking her vision. There! Just a glimpse of movement, but that was enough. A flick of the mouse, lining up her sights, gun coming up, charge already at full. 15. Her own beam shot back, bright red light
slamming forward, blowing away the smoke, and connecting with an armor-wrapped
head, disintegrating it. 10. Their body dropped to the floor, Bri's
score ticking up by one, bringing it out of a tie, pushing her ahead. 5. The respawn point was far away - there was no way for them to get back here in the time left. She hit the "pose" button, letting her character twist and preen on screen, making them bend over to show off a tight, latex-wrapped backside, breasts barely covered by the sci-fi outfit. 'Yes!' She pushed herself back away from the desk, twisting around in the gaming chair to let it rotate, raising her arms in victory, hearing victory music through her headset. When she spun around again, she could see the streaming chatlog, filled with emojis, victorious smiling faces and thumbs-up. 'That's how you do it!' She glanced down at the viewing figures - not bad! A bit more than before. She leaned forward, making sure that the camera caught a glimpse down her top, not enough to get her in trouble again, but enough to make a ripple of heart emojis well up through the chat. Bri leaned back in the chair, feeling her tight shorts around her butt, slightly stiff from being sat in place too long. She stretched her legs out, raising them up into camera-shot. She should have worn thigh-high socks, but some of the watchers probably enjoyed the sight of her bare feet! Raising two fingers to her mouth, she blew on them, making a gun-cocking noise, before kissing them, sliding them between her lips, rolling her tongue around them in a slow kiss. As the adrenaline faded, there was a tinge of tiredness, more than another energy drink could assuage. What time was it? She glanced down at the corner of the screen - she'd been gaming all night and into the morning! She'd need to get some rest before she collapsed! Not that it would be the first time, but that wasn't something she wanted to show on-stream! And when she was tired, she got slow and twitchy and stupid, a fog in her brain that was hard to work around. She heard a knocking at the door, hard and strident. What was that? Had someone ordered something from her wish list? 'Sorry guys, someone loves me, gotta go see who! And what they've got me.' She blew a kiss at the camera and then cut the stream, half her screens going dark as everything cut off. The knocking came again, louder this time, and she slammed the enter key several times to go through the post-match screens, not caring about the points she'd earned, stepping away from the screen, sliding her headphones down around her neck. It stung her eyes leaving her studio, the windows letting light into the rest of the apartment - at some point, she should get curtains, and maybe some other furniture, but she didn't need it yet. She got to the front door and opened it, looking down the hallway, currently empty. But at her feet, there was a large, sturdy box, plastic, looking almost like a loot drop from a game. Had she attracted the attention of a company, sending her free merch, or some cool promo swag? It certainly wasn't the usual package of clothing from her wish list, or games or accessories. It even had grips to pick it up with, and she used them to lift it, the thing heavier than she expected, carrying it back inside, the door swinging shut. She dumped it on her bed, kneeling on the floor and starting to flick latches open. It really was like something from a sci-fi show, although not any franchise she recognized. It opened, with a cool, mechanical hiss, revealing stiff foam padding, industrial grey. She lifted it away, hoping to see a limited edition box set, some cosplay accessories or a recreation of some game item. Instead, inside was a shiny circular ring of metal, which she lifted out. It was heavy, proper solid metal rather than a painted plastic replica, complete with a battery pack on one side, and a small read-out panel on the other, hinged. She closed it, making the thing into a complete ring, parts sliding together and then apart when she opened it up again. What was it? It was bigger than a Battle Royale collar, and she didn't recognize it from any other movie. Maybe it was for some new game or something? There was no logo or anything though, nothing to show what it was from. She pulled at the foam, finding it was layered, another tier holding smaller, longer metal rings, these ones without battery packs, but they did have hinged metal rings on them. And another pair, slightly squatter. What were they for? She took hold of the large metal ring, sliding the rest aside, hearing them hit the floor. Was it really meant to be worn around the neck? She took hold of her hair with one hand, lifting it up and out of the way, putting the metal against her neck, finding it slightly chill and smooth. It definitely hadn't been something she'd asked for, but it did look kind of cool. It hinged easily and then clicked shut, the two halves linking together into one. It didn't feel quite right, but she rotated it around, until the heavy battery was at the back, the little screen at the front, now sitting more comfortably on her shoulders and collarbone. Bri twisted her neck around, feeling the metal warm up and settle into position. It was a bit uncomfortable, making it hard to lower her neck and turn her head properly, and she could feel the weight of it on her body, pressing onto her skin. She tried opening it up again, pulling on the two halves, wanting to take it off before sleeping. It didn't open, the parts refusing to part - it was snug enough that she couldn't slide a finger beneath it, at least without choking herself. No matter how she twisted and tugged, it didn't open, and turning it around just made it less comfortable! There must be some hidden latch or something, but the outside of the collar felt smooth and featureless, without anything obvious to twist or turn in order to make it open. But she was tired! She could sort it tomorrow. Or today, whenever she woke up! She shimmied her tight shorts down her legs and tossed them aside, throwing them onto the uneven heap of clothing, pulling her top over her head, leaving her entirely naked. She stroked her pert breasts, her hand then dropping between her legs, slightly stroking down there. She could feel faint stubble there - she'd need to shave again soon! But she was too tired even for that, flopping onto her bed and wriggling into position, swiftly falling into a deep slumber, the metal thing still tight around her neck. Chapter Two: An Unknowing Start Something bit her neck, jerking Bri out of her sleep, her head feeling ragged and rough. She twitched and flicked a hand against her neck, trying to swat it, but her fingers struck against hard metal. What was that? She pressed harder, fingertips feeling the smooth, machined surface, her sleep shattered, brain feeling fuzzy and vague. How long had she been out? It didn't feel like long. It was that weird collar-thing from the box - she gave it another tug, pulling it tightly around her neck before letting go. It looked like a really high quality, well-made prop, but why was it so hard to get off? She heard her phone beep, and rolled out of bed with a sigh, stepping over the box and the other metal loops, still discarded on the floor. A reminder notification - it was peak traffic time, and she needed to post something. Dammit, why had she stayed up so late and early gaming? It had gotten her lots of views, but now she felt tired and fraggy. And she needed to pick an outfit, and make herself look good... And she needed a shower first! Maybe the water would help loosen the damn collar or something? It wasn't actually choking her, but it was still a tight, constant pressure around her throat, pressing down onto her shoulders. She went to the bathroom, turning the shower on, letting the hot water rush out, helping to wake her up. It streamed over her, and she washed herself, stroking hands down her body, feeling her slender, petite body, playing with her breasts, starting to warm herself up, getting ready for photographing herself. Sliding a hand between her leg stirred her excitement, getting her in the mood. Water slid beneath the collar, the thing at least not so tight to be waterproof, but no matter how she tugged on it, the thing didn't budge, the water making it slippery, impossible to find any seams on it. Bri dipped her head beneath the water, washing her hair, trying to keep it from snagging on the inside of the collar. She'd only just dyed it, a nice, bright pink, vivid and bright, and didn't want to damage it already! By the time she was done, she felt a little more awake and aware, drying herself of then tossing the towel over a hook, enjoying the feeling of the air on her body. Makeup - nothing too excessive, just a little on her face, and then around her eyes and mouth, reddening her lips, making her eyes seeming even larger, more innocent and sexier. She blew a kiss at the mirror, then tied her pink hair into twin tails, tossing them from side to side. Now, what to wear? Something sexy and revealing, but not too slutty - she didn't want to show everything! Just tease and entice, enough to keep people coming back, and of course, to throw money her way. All of her outfits and costumes were on a rail, dangling from hangers, a variety of cosplay outfits, tight swimsuits, latex leotards and more. All generous "gifts" and "donations" from her followers! She let her fingers trail through them, feeling all the different fabrics and materials. Several Japanese schoolgirl outfits, spandex bodysuits, a glossy red latex suit (gorgeous, but it took too long to get into, wriggling through the neck!), bodycon dresses, even a maid dress. But she was feeling lazy and didn't want anything too complicated. Maybe something a little more mature, for once? A black silk thong, then some stockings and suspenders, rolling the black material up her legs, clipping them into place to keep them up, looking at herself in the full-length mirror propped on the wall to make sure they were even. She wriggled her hips, enjoying the way they looked, twisting around to admire her backside. Then a tight leather pencil-skirt, a slit coming even higher up, just enough to show off the thigh-bands off the stockings. She twisted around and pushed her backside out towards the mirror, posing, happy with the results. For a top... She plucked out a basic red shirt, holding it against herself, before shaking her head. No, she needed something sexier. And if she couldn't get the damn collar off, then it would need to work with steel! A white blouse, a bit more open-necked, seemed better, tight at the chest to make her small breasts seem larger, buttoned up fully to give her a bit more of a strict look. Accessories - some metal bracelets, thick and chunky, some elegant silver earrings (sadly not real silver), and a change of hair-style - twin tails were better for sweet and innocent, but this was more of a bossy, dominant outfit, wasn't it? Some quick twists and tugs, and she had a longer, single braid, falling just beneath her shoulders, bands and pins holding it in place. Some smart, black heels, pushing her up another few inches, and then... yes, the pointer stick. It was with all her other more unusual accessories - cat-ears, fluffy handcuffs, a stack of temporary tattoos - and she clicked out the metal segments, making it a foot-long whippy metal wand. Oh, and some fake glasses, just to complete the look. She checked herself in the mirror again - the pink hair wasn't entirely in line with the rest, a black bob-cut might be better, but she couldn't be bothered to get out any of her wigs. She thwipped the pointing stick through the air, looking downwards, trying to project an aura of pride and power, imagining someone on the ground in front of her, weak and pathetic. Staring up at her with fear and maybe some awe? It felt good to move in the outfit, the blouse rubbing against her breasts, luxurious and expensive. A gift from one of her followers - and far more than she would be able to afford herself. She needed to attract more wealthy patrons, to buy her more gifts and give her money! Swaying her hips, holding the pointing stick in her right hand, she walked towards her studio, occasionally slicing with it. She wanted a nicer place! The apartment had nice light, but was a bit small and dingy, the paint peeling from the walls, her mirror propped up on the wall, scattered heaps of her stuff and her few items of furniture. Her studio was a bit better, with a large green sheet pinned up on one wall, a web-camera already pointing at it, although not yet turned on. She pulled the curtains open, trying to ignore the dust around the place - she should clean up, but that was work she didn't want to do! On one wall was her desk, her computer rig was with three screens all wired up to her computer, LEDs shifting through different colors. In the... afternoon? Already? There was her other photography area - a cheap couch covered with a fancy blanket to make it look like a fancy chaise lounge, plastic plants around it, a silk sheet hung on the wall to hide the crappy apartment walls. More props were shoved into plastic tubs, pushed barely out of sight, and with another mirror in the middle of the room, to help her with selfies. Now, what should she do? What would help drive her simps wild and make them throw money at her? Something teasing and enticing, but not too exposing. This would be easier with someone else to take the pictures, but who would do that? Maybe get some obedient little 'tog, willing to do it for free, or no more than an occasional kiss? She took her phone out and pulled her shoulders back, holding her head high, attempting an attitude of haughty contempt as she stared at the mirror. One leg in front of the other, showing off her thighs, pointing with the stick. Maybe she was punishing a naughty student? The outfit would fit a tutor! She raised her phone, looking through it, using it cover her face, giving herself an alluring air of mystery, or so she hoped. It was easy to imagine herself like this, having some simp down on the floor, begging and desperate for her attention. She started taking pictures, leaning forward to make the blouse show off her breasts, or twisting to the side to pull it tight around her body, lifting a leg up onto the couch to show a juicy flash of thigh-meat and her stocking-band, turning to draw her skirt tight over her backside and pushing it towards the mirror as she took more pictures. That would do for the public pictures. Now maybe a few for her private collection, or that she could add blurs and censor marks to for special use. She sat on the couch and spread her legs wide, pulling her skirt up to reveal her slit. She took a picture, making sure it was visible, before slowly drawing the pointing stick up against her body, lightly sliding it into herself, rubbing it back and forth. Having to keep the phone steady while stroking herself was something of a challenge, but one she was used to. It felt good, the stick yielding slightly, rubbing against her, making her warm and wet. She wanted to touch herself more, to stroke herself and get off, but she needed to get these posted! Her computer stirred to life as soon as she touched the mouse, screen firing up, the images from her phone loading themselves up. A few touchups, making her face smoother, her eyes a little larger, smoothing out a few blemishes and imperfections. She picked out a few of the best and started loading them into her socials, opening everything up, copy-pasting the same message onto them all - "would you be hot for teacher?", and then the link to all her other sites. The heavy metal collar around her neck looked jarring and out of place, but was too big to edit out, at least without it being a lot of work. Still, she looked good - sexy, sensual, powerful, and hopefully attractive enough to be worth watching. Then she looked at the more sexy ones - they looked even better, her legs spread wide, showing off her legs and the lovely heels, the stick between her lips, the phone covering her face. Seeing them made a quiver go through her, making her want to go all the way, to finish herself off! She took another picture, pulling down the neckline of her blouse to show off the collar. Maybe someone else could give her some clue of what it actually was, or whatever series or game it was meant to be advertising? Looking at it in the camera-image, she could see that it was smooth, polished metal, the only marks a few finger-smears from her - why wasn't there a logo or brand-mark on it? It could be anything! She couldn't really admit she had no idea what it was though - a few pictures along with some hinting, teasing hash-tags, and hopefully someone in the responses might be able to tell her something useful, or at least give her something to look for? A quick search for "metal collars" just returned a load of kinky fetish things, nothing she was looking for. Well, someone would know. Actually, maybe there was something else in the box? As there was a gratifying sound of dings and beeps as the likes and faves started hitting, she went back to her bedroom, ignoring the piles of laundry. The box was where she had dumped it, the other objects still scattered close to it. Looking at them now, were they like bracelets and anklets? Although very big bracelets, over an inch wide, with metal rings that could lay flat or fold out. She picked one up and looked it over - there was a sensor-panel on the inside, could it read the pulse and other vitals of the wearer? Was this some kind of fancy new mobile device? Although the neckpiece didn't seem very lightweight! The ankle-pieces seemed similar, with the same metal rings hanging down, and sensors inside. She clicked one shut, the movement easy and smooth, before it hung open again. When she pressed it shut, the seam was tiny, barely visible, too thin to even get a nail in. And no sign of a release latch, or even a charging port - were they all induction charged? That was quite impressive! The box was on its side now, and she righted it, more carefully examining it, looking for any text, even a receipt or shipping manifest, but there was nothing, the plastic crate sturdy, well-made and entirely blank. The inside had the stiff packing foam, shaped to fit around the contents and keep them from moving in transit. The bottom was only partway down - there was a small hole she could fit a finger into, flipping it open. The next layer down held technology she recognized - a VR helmet, although one that looked smaller and sleeker than the others she had seen. That was cool! Beneath that was something that was glossy, shiny black, which she pulled out - it was a latex bodysuit. It made her shudder, the feeling of being that compressed and constrained must be awful. That she tossed aside, letting it flap to the floor. And beneath that was a metal... thing? She took it out - a circular metal band, currently hanging open, with another curve that would join the two sides. The lower band looked vaguely threatening, with a two rubbery-looking prongs poking upwards, one thinner than the other, both constructed as increasingly thinner lumps, fattest at the base. What was that? A belt or something? Although that would mean... She tossed it away, not liking the look or feel of it, the thing landing atop the discarded bodysuit. No instructions or other details though, and still nothing to indicate where it was from. If someone bigger had noticed her and sent her some freebies, that was great, but she needed some details of who they were! So what was all this stuff? The postage probably hadn't been cheap, and even with the contents removed, it was still fairly heavy. But nothing - no key or release lever or instruction manual! She twisted it around on her neck - it was weighted, so it was definitely made to "sit" facing a certain direction, the little screen at the front, the battery-pack at the back. It wasn't even turned on though! She tapped the thing with a finger, but the screen remained blank and inert. What would it display? And she wouldn't be able to read it without a mirror anyway. Maybe a personal ID code or something? She yawned, feeling the tiredness from yesterday's long gaming stint, and the interrupted sleep. Well, she'd done her posts, so now it was time to sleep again! She flopped onto the bed, stretching out, settling herself comfortably. Her hand moved between her legs, unzipping her skirt and twisting it around, kicking it into the laundry-heap. She started stroking herself, cupping a breast with her other hand, rolling onto her back, spreading her legs wide, enjoying the feeling of the stockings on her legs. She closed her eyes, letting herself settle into a fantasy, of being rich and famous and powerful. Walking down the red carpet, her body sheathed in fine silks, a dress made just for her, teasingly tight, cut-out panels teasing at her bare skin beneath. Maybe a high slit, to show off her thigh? And heels, high and bright, as she posed for the cameras, showing herself off. Adoring fans, begging for her attention - which she wouldn't grant, of course. Fabulous jewelry, golden bracelets jangling on her wrists, a necklace dangling into her cleavage... She was getting hotter now, fingers more easily sliding into herself, twisting around. Maybe some himbo with her, maybe on a leash, at her beck and call... Everyone would be looking at her, wanting to be with her... And then later on, shoving them down onto a bed, straddling their face, having them eat her out... If they'd been good, maybe letting them fuck her, or maybe just teasing them, rubbing stocking-wrapped feet along an erect cock, making him beg and plead to come... The fantasies got more intense, of her tying them to the bed with her stockings, blindfolding them, feeling their smooth, toned flesh, running nails along their toned abs, making them bed and plead... If she could just promote herself enough, get big enough, famous enough... She hit her peak, pushing herself over the edge without hesitation, letting the orgasm flood through her, the cushion thick enough to absorb the weight of the collar, the silk blouse reassuringly expensive against her skin, as she fell into a light doze, hoping her posts were getting lots of promotion from her adoring fans... Bri's soft, comfortable doze was shattered, painful biting at her neck, spasmodic and harsh, making her muscles cramp up. 'Ow!' Her hands came up, pulling at the metal, trying to get around it, pushing against her neck. It made her neck ache as she shoved fingers against herself, trying to hook around the collar. Why wasn't there a release catch or something? She could twist it around a little, making it rub and chafe against her neck, but no more than that. And the pressure of her fingers against her neck was cutting off the blood to her head, making her feel dazed and woozy, especially with the shattered sleep. On the outside of the collar, she tried pulling again, but without any more success - why was the damn thing so stiff and uncomfortable? And what the hell time was it? There was still light coming through the windows, low and amber - was it evening now? The collar nipped again, stinging at her and making her wince in pain. She knocked her knuckle against it in frustration, not caring that the force knocked through into her neck. Doing product placement was one thing, but who the hell would want something like this? Even for an alarm clock it was rough, and didn't seem to have any way to set it! Her fingers skimmed and brushed over the outside, trying to find any buttons or anything, but it was smooth metal, except for a smooth screen-panel on the front. That was stupid - there wasn't any way for her to read it! With a groan, she rolled out of bed, feeling the air on her naked body, the room still warm. She felt slightly sweaty after her wank, her head frazzled, some dribble on her cheek. She wiped that off, then groaned. Bloody collar! There must be some way to get it off, although what she really wanted to do was roll back into bed. The collar nipped her neck, jerking her more fully awake, and making her swear, punching a pillar in frustration, leaving a dent in it. Now she was up, she may as well do something, and see if anyone had offered something to help with the collar. Or, at least, how much money she had made while she had slept. How long had she been out for? Just a few hours, it seemed. Shaking her head, one hand on the collar in the hopes that it wouldn't shock her again, she went back into the main room, before heading over to her computer, the screens blinking on. A Tinny, angry beeping came from behind her, in her bedroom, before there was a short whine from the collar, and then it shocked her again. 'Oww!' What was making that noise? It was still sounding out, the collar making another whining noise. Was it building up to another shock? She stepped away, hastily moving towards the beeping sound. The whining sound lowered itself and then went silent as she moved, looking around for the beeping. It was the metal cuffs, under the bed. Were all of the items meant to remain close together? When she picked them up, they stopped beeping. The things had a certain heft too them, thick and chunky, solid metal, finely-polished, and just about large enough that they were awkward to carry in her hands, and she felt a little guilty about leaving finger-smears on the polished metal. She'd have to carry them closely though, unless she wanted to be shocked, it looked like! She returned to her PC, checking that the camera was turned off and covered up, so that she wouldn't accidently broadcast her nudity. She hadn't done any full nudes yet, and wasn't sure if she ever would, but they would be damn expensive if she ever did! Far better to be exclusive and high-priced than dump out a load of cheap material. How had her last set of pics done? It took a second for her pages to refresh, loading up the numbers. Bri smiled and nodded approvingly - those were some good stats! She'd have to do more of the "slutty teacher" look, it seemed to be going down well. And the comments - a load of the usual hearts, thumbs-ups and drooling smiley faces, some of which she upvoted herself, but also quite a lot of comments. Teacher needs a spanking. Nice collar, woof woof woof! Want to tutor me? The pic she'd taken that focused on the collar had even more likes than the others. Were people really into collars that much, or were neck-shots considered super-sexy now? She'd not seen it trending anywhere else, so probably not? Maybe she could start a new trend? Who's the lucky key holder? Nice and thick, bet she feels that! Would look better with a leash attached. And, of course, there was already a crappy photoshop, with a black leash crudely sketched in, running out of frame. She wasn't a dog, to be led about on a leash like that! Well, at least it wasn't showing her with badly-edited in cum all over her face. That one had started popping up everywhere for a while before, mercifully, vanishing again, back into the depths of the internet. Embedded in one of the tweets was a QR code, thick and chunky lines in a square, posted by "DollMaker36", and a link beneath. The collar made a sudden beeping noise, rumbling on her neck - it could vibrate as well? She picked up a compact that was on the desk, looking more carefully at the front. There was the screen-panel, currently blank, but beneath that there was a black bead, a small curve of tough glass. A chill ran through her - was that a camera? Tapping on it didn't provoke any reaction. Was there anything she could cover it with? A stack of post-it notes was on the desk, so she tore the top one off, ripping it in half and putting the sticky part over the bead, just in case. It was probably nothing, or just a sensor for something else, but she didn't want some perv recording her, especially not naked! It she was being recorded doing that, she wanted it to be herself doing it, and getting paid for it, not giving it away for free. She hesitated, then clicked the link. It opened up a new tab, a black background, a video feed loading in the center a few seconds afterwards. There was no label or description, the video just showing... darkness? Slightly soft-edged, as though there was light, but mostly blocked, especially at the top. The only other text was a timer, ticking away, currently showing a little over 24 hours left. Was it going to be a reveal for something? Even the URL wasn't much help - "captured247", not giving any hints as to what it was for. Some movie or a game or something? A quick search for the title didn't being up anything else, although there was still the soft fuzz of light along the bottom of the video feed, like the camera was hidden behind a curtain or something. She'd have to check again in a day, and see what was happening. From scrolling through the comments, no-one seemed to recognize the collar, other than thinking that it was hot, and a few gifs and pictures from movies that had used similar designs, but nothing quite as thick and chunky, or with the little screen on the front. She'd have to carry a mirror with her, to try and see if anything ever appeared on it. And if she ever got her hands on who had sent the thing, give them a good punch or two! Although she probably should get dressed, then maybe start a stream. What to wear now? Something more comfortable, although still sexy. It was a warm night, so nothing too loose, and she wanted to show off her body. When she moved away from the desk, the collar started to beep, and she had to double back to collect the cuffs, wary of being shocked again. The way it made her whole body tense up, forcing it to move against her will, made her shudder at the thought of loosing control, being forced to move and react. Carrying the cuffs was a pain though! Would it be worth putting them on? Or would they lock into place, and be impossible to remove? They closed and opened easily enough now, but so had the collar. What to wear, what to wear... The teacher had gone done well, so something a little showier, maybe? Although not too slutty. She pulled out some denim shorts, wriggling them on, and then black thigh-high socks, and a tight crop-top, showing off her smooth belly. That should do! And then, after a moment's hesitation, a scarf, which she wrapped around her neck, hiding the collar. Letting everyone know that it was locked into place was embarrassing. She wanted to be in control, not having to deal with stuff locked onto her body! She checked herself in the mirror, touching up her makeup, then stroking her body, enjoying the warmth of her skin, running fingers over her belly, cupping her breasts and then blowing a kiss at the mirror, cocking her head flirtatiously. Time to go and try and drive her numbers up! The ring light and webcam flicked on, and she took the cap off the camera, briefly checking that she looked OK in the camera, tweaking the scarf into place to make sure that the collar didn't shine through, and that her headphones didn't mess up her hair too much. Melissa DuVant writes a variety of BDSM-inspired stories, such as Digital Slave and is one of the co-writers of the St Michael's University setting. When not writing, she is generally planning RPG campaigns, reading or cooking. The cover was created by Formant. He is a web artist, specializing in the harsher side of fetish and kink. Prisonette's Dilemma Chapter One: An Uneasy Meeting The locker was cramped for one, with two shoved into the tiny space, it was hot and stifling, the air-hole between them was the only source of air and light, just enough that they could see each other's faces. They were still bound together, a leather strap between their ponytails, their ankles bound to each other and their hands bound behind the other's back. Their skirts were around their ankles, but otherwise they were dressed, even if grimy from sweat, stood up, unable to do more than slightly shift in the tiny space. Sophia's face was marked with tears, makeup running down her pale cheeks. Eliza twisted, trying to keep her arse from touching the sides, her flesh tender and raw from the harsh paddling. Her movement must have pushed Sophia back, the other girl biting her lip, trying not to make any sound. They couldn't hear anything, but that didn't mean no-one was there, waiting for them to slip up and do something that could be used as an excuse for punishment, or to push something into the airhole, see how long the air inside the box would last, make them weak and delirious. Or spray cold water inside, leaving them chilled and cold, making them beg for warmth. She shivered, trying not to think about how vulnerable they were - the locker was metal, could it be wired up to shock them? She nuzzled against Sophia, gently nipping her on the neck. She whispered just in case someone was listening. Were there any hidden microphones in here? She couldn't see them, but in the low light, and with another body in the way, such a thing could easily be concealed. 'Is this your first time?' Another nip served to draw the girl from her stupor, and she nodded. 'What's going on? Why are they doing this?' 'Because they can. It's how this place works. Ranks and orders. And those above are rarely kind to those below. "Perform. Obey. Suffer." Haven't you seen the motto?' She kissed the girl's neck, then her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. 'But... How? Why?' 'Because they can.' Sophia smelt good, fresh and sweet, despite the fear-sweat clinging to both their bodies, their thin blouses almost translucent to start with. Her breasts pressed against Eliza's, soft and warm. 'Don't show weakness. Don't show fear. Be quiet. Be obedient. Fade into the background - it's safer. You don't want to be anyone's focus.' She kissed Sophia again, moving closer to the girl's lips. 'How can you be so strong? Doesn't it hurt?' 'Be strong or break. I used to have a friend, Madeline. She was taken into the basement. When she came out... She says her name is Harriet now, and refuses to believe it was ever anything else.' She began grinding herself against Sophia's leg, already smeared with her juices, seeking at least a moment of fleeting pleasure, trying to avoid pressing her buttocks against the walls and hurting herself. 'But... that sounds horrible.' Eliza kissed her, full on the lips. It made the air in here even hotter and more stifling, but it was better than simply being stuck in the darkness. 'It's how this place works. Please your betters or be punished.' She was close, the girl's leg not the best of sextoys, but at least it didn't hurt her, and she wasn't being violated or hurt by anyone else. Sophia squirmed, trying to pull away, at least as much as she could in the tiny space. 'How long are we in here for?' Eliza groaned as she peaked, the heat of her ardor rapidly fading. 'Until that bastard lets us out. Or someone else. Shit, we need to tell each other secrets.' In the post-orgasmic haze, there was at least a moment of peace, and she tried to snuggle against the girl, seeking some warmth, human contact that didn't involve pain. Although could the girl be playing her? She had tried to escape her full punishment - maybe this was all a setup? But she was nice and warm, at least for now. She rested her head on Sophia's shoulder, twisting to keep hair out of her face. 'Secrets?' 'He's going to quiz us, isn't he? And if we get anything wrong, then a punishment.' She winced, her butt red and throbbing. How many strikes had it been, ten? That paddle had been brutal, although at least it hadn't been spiked or ridged. 'Don't you remember the application form? He's going to know everything on that at least. And it sounds like you've been here before, so he might know more about you.' 'But he wouldn't just...' She trailed off, probably remembering that she was currently in a tiny metal locker, half-naked and tied to another girl, both their asses red-raw from a paddling. 'He would. And if you fuck it up and get me hurt more...' She nuzzled against Sophia, then bit her, a sharp nip to hopefully focus Sophia's attentions. Not that she had much in the way of influence or allies herself, but if this girl fucked it up, then she'd try and get her fed to one of the harsher dorms or put in a display cage for anyone to use. She grunted in pain as hands squeezed her, Sophia's eyes moistening again. She tensed, ready to fight, at least as much as she could, before realizing she was being hugged, Sophia turning her own head to softly kiss Eliza's forehead. She slowly relaxed, feeling the tension drain from her body - how long had it been since an embrace had been genuine, since she had been touched without hurt or as a trick? She felt her own chest juddering, managing to resist the urge to sob and cry - this could be a trick, the girl a plant. But it was nice, being cradled in someone's arms, their bodies close, resting against each other, starting to breath in unison. 'So what do you think we should do?' Sophia's breath tickled her cheek, sending a strand of hair fluttering. 'We need to learn about each other. They're probably going to put us in separate rooms and ask us individually. Wouldn't surprise me if they were going to punish us anyway. He likes to make a game of it, make it look like you have a chance. He just likes hurting people.' She relaxed a little more, the other girl distractingly warm and soft against her. They started with the basics - names, ages, dates of birth, where they had come from. As they talked, the light faded to twilight, sunset casting their faces into pale orange as the sun set. Maybe someone would come and let them out? Although she'd met some of the cleaners before and would rather not be found by them. Still, it was strangely soothing, being bound so close to Sophia. At least in here there was little danger of immediate attack, and she could move about as much as in her usual cage. And she wasn't hooded or blindfolded and bound with her mouth held open in case any of the dominants felt like using her. She shifted her weight, trying to learn on the walls, take some of the strain off her legs. Sophia pushed in closer, her skin and hair the only things Eliza could smell, even over the tinny tang of the metal trapping them. It was almost nice, despite the promise of future punishment. 'What's your worst nightmare?' Eliza froze. Sophia sounded innocent enough, but could she be a plant? It would be just like this place to make her reveal her darkest fears, and then use them against her. She tried to remember - was there anyone that could know? She tried to suppress the memories of it, but had anyone noticed? She should lie, rather than reveal anything that could hurt her. Sophia twisted against her, trying to get as comfortable as she could, with the bindings still forcing them to wrap their arms around each other, although the cord between their ponytails was loosened slightly now, making it easier to move their heads. She spoke quietly, almost furtively, as though worried about eavesdroppers. 'Choking.' She shuddered. 'Not being able to breath, gasping and spluttering. I don't understand how people can enjoy that.' Eliza could remember hands about her neck, a bag over her face, breath hot and thick, her hands restrained so she couldn't pull it off herself, a crowd watching and jeering, hands pawing at her body. It hadn't been the worst she'd endured, merely painful, rather than degrading or humiliating. And the orgasm she had been allowed at the end, hanging on the edge of consciousness, a cleansing fire blasting through her, had been... She quivered at the memory, getting horny again. 'Are you sure you want me to know? If he asks me, what should I say?' Sophia kissed her on the lips, warm and comforting, somehow able to smile. 'I want you to trust me. If we can't trust each other, then what?' They kissed again, slow and warm, tongues sliding into each other's mouths, seeking a simple pleasure. If they were being recorded, it wouldn't be in any decent quality. It was Eliza's turn to slide her leg forward, Sophia grinding against her, the place hardly comfortable. But she managed, gasping towards a climax as she smeared her juices against Eliza's thigh. Eliza winced as her buttocks pressed against the metal, skin raw from the paddling. Having Sophia snuggled against her, slightly flushed and panting, the scent of her sex mingling with that of their bodies, was nice. A simple moment of peace, without hurt or degradation. Was this girl trustworthy? They'd both be getting punished in some way, that was almost certain. There was no way they would be allowed out of here without getting hurt in some way, and letting the Dean know what she hated would mean getting take down into the basement, locked into a dark box, left and abandoned. Even being hit and used was better than that, being discarded and abandoned, more meat than human, simply a thing to be used for the pleasure of another. She shivered, holding Sophia close as she lied. 'Electricity. I've been tied down and wired up, and they kept shocking me. Again and again. I tried to beg for them to stop, but... then they gagged me. I was left there, all night, still connected. Until one of the cleaners found me, and to get out I had to...' She trailed off, not wanting to remember that. The electricity itself hadn't been that bad, but being dumped into an empty room, bound, deafened and blindfolded, unable to move or even scream, and simply abandoned until anyone deigned to remember her, had been horrible. At least she had been alone, or she thought she had been alone, so no-one knew, how she had spent most of that night sobbing to herself, desperate for contact, even the impact of a hand or a whip better than nothing. Since then, she had been careful to be very quiet and obedient, fading into the background as much as possible, just to avoid anything like that, ever again. Light continued to fall, as they spent the time in drowsy conversation, sharing body heat as the locker began to chill. Both were on the same scholarship program, meaning they were amongst the lowest ranks, although Sophia had yet to draw much attention, explaining her more relaxed attitude. Sometime later, they fell into slumber, still bound together, Sophia's body warm and comfortable to use as a cushion and pillow. They were rudely awoken by the locker being jostled. Eliza bit her lip in pain as it was tilted until it was lengthways, Eliza's butt still sore where she fell against the metal, Sophia falling on top of her. Eliza twisted, managing to look through the hole, making sure to keep it clear so they could breathe. Tiles were moving beneath them, occasional glimpse of shoes and legs - they must be being taken along one of the university hallways. Sophia whimpered, drawing close to Eliza for comfort. 'Where do you think they're...' Eliza cut her off. 'Shh! If they hear us, they'll know we're awake.' The tiles underneath turned to old stone slabs, as they were jostled and bumped down a steep set of stairs - Eliza's heart fell as she realized they were being taken into the crypts and basements beneath the main buildings, where troublemakers were taken for punishment and training. The light turned dark, shifting from sunlight to the chill and sporadic electric lights. She hugged Sophia close, wondering what would happen, what they would be forced to endure, or be forced to do to each other. They were set right-way up again, and there was the sound of footsteps moving away, the heavy slam of a metal door shutting, then silence. Eliza waited, heart pounding, before going to the eye-hole again. She screamed, a face looking back at her, or at least a smooth, white curve of latex - one of the nurses, their body sheathed in white latex. They waved, clearly able to hear her. Eliza watched in terror as Sophia clamped tightly onto her, seeing her reaction but unable to know what was happening, as the nurse reached for a length of rubber tubing, pushing it over the small hole, cutting off the light. There was a pneumatic hiss and then a strange scent in the air. She felt herself getting woozy, trying to warn Sophia, before falling unconscious. Her last thought, as she slumped against Sophia, was of how nice the girl's hair smelled, and then the darkness claimed her. |