Ingrid Aston woke up feeling stiff, sick and confused.
She knew something was wrong, but her
brain was too thick and muzzy to work out what.
She blinked her eyes and focused on her surroundings. She was lying on a rubber covered mattress in
a clear plastic box about the size of a single bed. The box had air holes drilled in its sides
and was just tall enough to sit up in.
It stood in a small white walled room with bright strip lights, a black
rubber floor and a single door.
She was also stark naked, except for
something wrapped about her neck. Moving
a stiff arm she reached up and found it was some kind of metal collar with a
rubber lining and tether rings hung on its outside. She tugged at it but she could not pull it
off. Panic gripped her and she jerked
upright and scrabbled about until she was huddled up in one corner of the
box. It had a door panel set in one side
and she pounded on it, but it would not open.
She was a prisoner!
What was going on? What did she last remember?
She had been at the audition for the
film job. Everybody had been making a
fuss of her and she had been very excited.
She was sure this was going to be her big break… and then nothing.
Her stomach knotted up in sick fear
and she shivered, hugging herself. How did she get here? Where was here? And who had stripped off all her clothes,
leaving her exposed like this for all to see?
Ingrid was twenty, with blonde,
straight bobbed hair and a bright heart-shaped face. She had warm brown eyes and a slightly
snubbed nose. Her pale breasts, looking
larger than they were on her slender chest, were capped with large
nipples. She had a lean slender body,
fleshy rounded buttocks and a dark golden pussy bush.
Now she felt angry and humiliated as
well as being sick and terrified.
Then the door of the white room opened
and something came in. It was literally a “thing”: a machine, not a
person! Ingrid gave a yelp of fear.
It looked a little like some robots
she had seen in the movies. It stood
about man height and moved on a hi-drive caterpillar track base, with a hinged
extensible upper body and rotating shoulders that carried a pair of metal
claw-tipped arms. Where its head should
have been was a large PC tablet stood on its end, with binocular camera eyes
mounted on either side of it. On the
tablet screen floated a face set against a black background. It was that of a man perhaps in his
mid-thirties with olive skin, glossy black hair, a saturnine beard and deep,
dark intelligent eyes.
The thing rolled up to the side of her
plastic cage and surveyed her through its glass eyes. Then the head on the screen spoke with a
clear, cultured voice, with a trace of a foreign accent she did not recognize.
‘I am the mobile computer avatar of
Gustav Balik, whose face I wear. To
avoid confusion, you may call me “GB”.
You are in a basement training facility in one of Mister Balik’s office
buildings, where chosen women who need to be broken in as his slaves are
sent. I will supervise your training
according to my programming. You will
learn to obey me, and therefore Mr Balik, without question. You will be taught to be a perfect sex slave
eager to perform any act required of you.
When you are ready, you will be sent up to Mr Balik’s penthouse
apartment to serve him in person. Then
my work will be done.’
Ingrid gaped at it incredulously,
trying to process what the machine had said in her still confused mind. She had never heard of Gustav Balik. It was all impossible, mad, crazy!
She banged on the sides of the cage
with her fists. ‘Let me out of here! You
can’t do this! People will be looking
‘No, they will not,’ the machine
responded calmly, unmoved by her threats.
‘Mr Balik is a very rich man who always gets what he wants. He likes pretty women. He saw you in a small part in a TV drama and
said: I want that woman. Through my main
frame, which is highly sophisticated, by the way, I researched your background
to establish the best means. That was why
you were invited to that fake audition.
Actually, it was to allow me to scan your face and voice and mannerisms
and access you phone contact list. Then
you were incapacitated and brought here.
As far as your friends and family are concerned, you have gone abroad to
shoot a part in a film. I can create a
perfect mirror of your face and voice…’
The face of Balik morphed into her own
face continuing to speak but now in her own voice.
‘This virtual version of you will
continue to send reassuring messages home.
No one will miss you for weeks.
By then you will be Mr Balik’s perfect slave. As I said, he is very rich and powerful. Powerful enough to have me constructed as his
alter ego to handle mundane tasks such as training women like you…’
It was her own voice and face telling
her this, but she could not accept it.
‘You… you can’t make me a slave!’
Balik’s face and voice returned to the
screen. ‘I can. I have trained many
women before you and the method has been perfected. The process will begin now…’
The door of the cage which had
resisted Ingrid opened at the machine’s touch.
He reached inside and grabbed Ingrid by the hair and pulled her out onto
her feet. With his free hand, he grasped
her right breast and squeezed. Her soft
pale flesh bulged out around the triple pronged claws. As she shrieked in pain and tore at it, he
closed his other claw about her left breast.
Then he lifted, pulling her feet off the ground so that her legs kicked
in the air. She had to grasp at his
metal wrists and pull herself up to take some of the tearing pressure off her
A telescopic rod extended from a
recess in GB’s torso. It had a
realistically moulded flesh-coloured rubber penis on its end. Before she could stop it, it had found her
pussy cleft and slid up into her vagina, impaling her. Ingrid’s eyes bulged in horror even as the
thing took a little of the weight off her breasts. Then it began to vibrate and pump back and
‘This is an exact copy of Mister
Balik’s penis,’ GB told her. ‘You will
learn to love it and pleasure it. To
begin your training, you will now orgasm over it.’
b… bastard thing… no… never!’ Ingrid
‘Until you do, I will not let you
down. I can hold you like this for hours
Her frantic kicks which twisted her
hips about were churning the pumping phallus inside her ever more deeply. And despite the terrible squeezing, tearing
pain in her breasts, her pussy was responding, getting hot and wet.
‘Is it not more sensible to choose
pleasure instead of pain?’ GB asked
reasonably. ‘Let yourself be stimulated
until you climax and then I will let you down.
Rest your feet on the top of my tracks and work yourself against the
shaft. That way it will happen more
Sobbing, Ingrid obeyed, the phallus
shaft hinging upwards as she did so until she was braced against the sloping
tops of GB’s tracks as they ran up to their elevated drive sprockets. That took a little more weight off her
breasts. And then, with a groan, she
began to grind her hips about the impaling rod, pulling on the mechanical arms
that held her so cruelly. The pain in
her breasts was easing off a little, but perhaps that was only because there
were turning purple!
Through tear-filled eyes, she looked
into the face of Gustav Balik on the screen.
A man who could afford to have a machine like this built, to have her
taken so casually, could do anything. At
this moment, she was his plaything and there was nothing she could do about it.
That thought disgusted and excited her
in equal measure.
‘Just respond naturally,’ GB advised
By now, her pussy was seriously hot
and wet and dripping, squeezing about the silky smooth rubber penis inside it.
‘I have observed many women in your
situation, and have seen them adapt to necessity,’ GB said.
He sounded so calm, even when he was
inside her! But he was just a machine…
She sobbed and squeezed on the
pulsating shaft and then suddenly she felt her loins burst as she deluged it
with her juices. In response, the penis
spurted some hot fluid into her, as if it had really ejaculated.
It was not a great orgasm, but she had
come even in a nightmare like this! For
a brief moment she had felt a thrill of pride and pleasure, as if she had
achieved something wonderful.
The penis rod pulled out of her,
sucking on her vagina and dripping white fluid.
GB let her down onto her knees and released his grasp on her
breasts. She hunched over, clasping them
tight and moaning as the blood began to flow back into them and they tingled
The penis rod, shiny with her juices,
retracted into its slot. GB took out a wire
rope leash from a side panel of his torso and clipped to her collar.
‘Now you will have your first proper
lesson,’ he told her. ‘Crawl after me on
your hands and knees…’