The Fallen

As the day drew to a close Carly found her legs quaking with anticipation as the Medea’s words echoed around inside her head. Had she worked hard enough to earn her reward? It would be impossible to tell until she touched that little panel on the console and felt the vibrating pleasure shake through her body, dragging her higher and higher until she erupted into a squirting, spasming nexus of delight, or the sensations stopped, leaving her panting and writhing for more, unable to rest until her tortured body had been emptied of its painfully trapped fluids.

With a thumping heart she jumped into the lift to her room and felt it speeding upwards, mentally urging it onwards as fast as she could. A moment later she stepped onto the cold marble floor of the bedroom and walked slowly towards the bed where Lonnie lay; her companion twisted her body to smile back at her enticingly. Carly sat herself down next to her lover and leant across the bed to kiss Lonnie’s sweet lips and taste their moist freshness, so cool and soft against her flushed skin.

Slowly Lonnie stood and pushed Carly back under the showerhead, which began to pour warm soapy water all across her dusty body. Gently Lonnie rubbed in the soap in the special way she had, massaging it into Carly’s body and easing away the tensions of the day. Carly felt herself drifting away in the warm wet rush as Lonnie held her up with her slender, strong arms and twisted her muscles through soothing patterns.

Eventually the soap turned to warm water, which turned to warm air, leaving Carly refreshed and revitalised in the late evening light which poured into the room through the mountain-facing window, and Lonnie stepped towards the console on the wall to investigate the logos displayed upon its screen. She smiled wryly as she turned back to Carly, her narrowed eyes betraying the naughty thoughts running through her mind; evidently she was pleased with what she had seen.

“Do you want yours tonight?” She asked quietly, whispering into Carly’s ear.

“How long do I have?” Carly replied playfully, badly wanting to have some pleasure in Lonnie’s company but afraid of being tormented again like she had the previous night.

“The same as last night.” Lonnie replied, smiling. “Think you can come in that time?”

“Oh, yeah!” Carly said breathily. “I think I could come in a few seconds!”

“Unless… You wanna save if for tomorrow?”

“Umm…” Carly muttered, a sudden playful idea forcing its way to the front of her mind. “You wanna save it with me?”

Lonnie grinned back at her, her innocent face suddenly full of frisky frivolity. “How long do you have in mind?” She asked.

“Wait another five nights, and we’ll have a few hours each to play with?” Carly answered, questioning Lonnie with her expression.

“Are you daring me?” Lonnie replied, her face an expression of both playful defiance and uncertainty.

“Yes! Now hold me, if we’re not going to play, we should sleep.”

Lonnie ran towards Carly and jumped at her, knocking her backwards onto the soft bed as they erupted in fits of laughter, rolling around in the purple half-light from the sky over the mountains. Eventually their laughter subsided as they calmed down, entangled in each other’s arms; Carly pulled the duvet over them instinctively. Gradually the two girls relaxed and began to drift away in their own dream worlds as sleep marched over them. Carly felt a wave of sleepy uncertainty roll across her mind, dousing her current train of thought with an odd half-dream, then lifting for again as she woke with a jump. Unsettled by the sudden racing of her heart, Carly shifted her position and tried to quiet her mind.

“How do you feel now, sweetie?” She asked as she dozed, trying to forget the confusion brought on by the bizarre effects of suddenly disturbed sleep.

“Horny.” Came Lonnie’s single-word answer in a tired but contended voice. Nothing more was said as they drifted off to sleep.

***

Five long nights passed slowly but happily for Carly and her lover as they slept in each other’s arms, after a shower and recharge and an hour or so of meaningless talk. Carly could not actually recall the details of any single conversation, but this was not particularly unusual since Lonnie’s day was always the same. Similarly, Carly thought that descriptions of horny girls tied to benches with their sex thrust outwards and innocent Earth girls masturbating on screen were not the best things to tell Lonnie about.

But this night as Carly finished her work she knew she was in for a special treat: her nights of self-enforced chastity had been easier than she thought, although not without times when she only wanted to let herself have a few moments of pleasure alone. In the back of her mind she knew she only had to walk to the console and tap the screen to get the release that her body was quietly demanding stronger and stronger as the days passed. Lonnie seemed not to voice her concerns, although Carly had smelt her arousal when she massaged Lonnie’s back, and when she had worked down to her buttocks and parted her legs there was often a telltale glistening patch of moisture around the edge of her sex shield.

They had agreed to end their pact of denial on this night, allowing themselves five days worth of pleasure in just one evening – a thought that had Carly quaking at the knees in horny anticipation. She had been getting wet since around midday, and now her sex burned so strongly she felt she could melt from within at any moment. From time to time a trickle of arousal would run down her leg, and if she was quick she would catch it with her fingers and bring it to her lips, tasting with her own tongue her wet arousal; she had never done this before, yet it seemed so right to her now.

Carly trotted back down the tall spiral of stairs towards the exit from the Grand Tower, the entry hall where the two girls still stood chained to the wooden bench. Carly heard the sound of soft footsteps as she rounded the corner to the lobby, stopping with a jolt as she saw the Medea approaching her from the opposite corridor with a young girl at her side.

Remembering herself, Carly continued onwards, trying to hide her shock as she recognised the girl – it was the innocent young thing that she had seen masturbating on the screen in the small office. The Medea said nothing as they passed, leaving Carly alone with her thoughts as she took in the girl’s pale, lifeless skin and her deep sunken eyes, staring emptily back at her from inside their shadowy sockets. She wore the same gauze blouse and silver trousers that she had pulled on to play in, yet the clothes somehow accentuated her deathly grey appearance, instead of highlighting the life in her face as they had done on the screen. She padded past like a zombie, Carly thought, her eyes looking but not seeing as she followed her new mistress.

Carly felt a tremendous wave of sorrow build up inside her as she mourned for the girl, abducted from her own bedroom and dragged millions of miles across the galaxy by technology Carly could only dream of. Imprisoned now, just like herself, far away from her family and friends and her old life, a slave to an evil mistress.

Carly heard the sound of shuffling feet behind her and felt her breath draw in, fearing a command from the Medea.

“Engineer.” Came the silky voice. Carly stopped in her tracks, slowly turning to face her mistress. “Watch.” The Medea commanded.

The deep blue woman turned to face her concubine, grasping her gently by the shoulders and pulling in to kiss her passionately on the lips, her tongue visibly flicking slowly back and forth over the girl’s teeth. She pulled away as the girl tried to stretch forwards, her eyes almost closed and her mouth wide with hunger for her mistress. Carly saw the Medea whisper something quietly in her ear, and on command the girl stepped back to lean against the cold, dusty wall.

Her knees bent as her legs opened enough for her to unfasten the top buttons on her fly and slip a hand under the shiny material. Her eyes remained firmly locked with the Medea’s as she began to stroke her sex slowly, her breath already rasping quietly in her throat. What had the Medea done to this poor girl, a horrified Carly wondered, to turn her into such a slave so quickly? Even as she watched, the girl’s hips began to rock in time with her slowly stroking hand and her breath began to grate louder and louder; obviously she was trying her to keep her voice down.

After a time far shorter can Carly thought possible, the girl’s face began to contort into an expression of pained restraint, still staring straight back at the Medea, her mouth beginning to form the shapes of words, although no sounds escaped. Carly eventually managed to read the girl’s lips – please, please, please.

“Stop.” The Medea spoke softly, her silky voice quiet and yet full in the empty corridor. The girl withdrew her hands from her trousers and unbuttoned them fully, pushing them halfway down her smooth thighs to reveal her bare sex, puffy and red and glistening with moisture. Carly felt herself gulp at the sight – never before had she seen such an enraged pussy, almost visibly pulsing with trapped heat. Again Carly wondered what alien tortures the evil blue witch had bestowed upon the poor creature. Had she really just been teased until her pussy burned red with blood, demanding attention, or had she been drugged with a powerful aphrodisiac, or some form of mind control?

The Medea lowered her right hand to the girl’s sex and began to rub her slick lips with her curling fingers, drawing more rasping breaths from the tormented girl. Her mouth began to contort again into pleas for relief, her once-rounded cheeks now taut against her face as she struggled to control herself. Eventually quiet squeaks began to leave her lips: “Please, please, please…”

“No.” The Medea said softly but firmly, ordering her to maintain her control. “Only when I say so. Who do you obey?”

“The Medea.” The girl responded immediately in a squeaky, strained voice, still staring straight at her mistress.

“Who do you please?”

“The Medea.” She panted, her squeaky voice full of tension and determination.

“What is your name?”

“Concubine 4821.”

Carly felt a deep chill freeze her stomach as she realised that the Medea had used sexual torture to strip away every last string of resistance in the girl’s mind, until she had submitted herself entirely to the wicked woman, and was at her mercy. The Medea remained silent for a moment as she continued her slow strokes of the girl’s sex.

“When do you come?”

“When the Medea permits.”

The girl’s legs began to quake as she fought to hold back her orgasm. Carly felt her mouth drop open as she watched the Medea continue her torture, stroking faster now, concentrating her attentions over her engorged clit, pushing her concubine to the very limits of her endurance. “Please…” she begged again.

“No. When I count to five.”

The girl let out a squeak of excitement as she listened to the Medea, aware that she was actually being granted an orgasm. “One.” The Medea began, very subtly increasing her fingers pace again. “Two.” More squeaks forced their way out of the girl’s throat and her legs quivered like those of an enraged animal. “Three.” The Medea paused again, drawing out the torture a little longer. “Four.” Her pace quickened again, pushing her concubine through even higher levels of self-control. “Four and a half…” Now her fingers flicked back and forth over the girl’s clit; her mouth dropped open as she prepared to let herself come. The Medea stopped her administrations and stepped backwards, smiling as she took in the twisted, pained expression on her concubine’s tortured face.

“Five.” The Medea said lustfully. A deep, tortured moan of sudden release was carried on a lung-full of expelled air as the girl let herself go, sending wave after wave of orgasmic energy shooting through her body like lightning bolts, sending her through spasmodic convulsions that had her gasping for breath.

Eventually the girl’s body began to slow down, jerking from time to time as another orgasmic spasm shook through her. Her pale skin was covered with a light sheen of cold sweat and her eyes gazed wide open, staring straight at the Medea as she had done throughout her ordeal. She continued to look into her mistress’s eyes as she took up the woman’s slick fingers and sucked them, obediently cleaning every last drop of her pleasure from the deep blue skin.

“Well done, my precious.” The Medea said aloud, smiling at her concubine. “You wish to come again.”

“I wish to come again.” The girl replied immediately, as if hypnotised. Carly was aware by the breathy quality of her voice that she meant it.

“You will not be permitted to come again until I say so. Until then, you will remain aroused such that you will wish to come at all times.”

“I wish to come.” The girl repeated, her throat moving as she swallowed nervously. Carly felt a tingle down her back as she saw a droplet of arousal run from the girl’s sex and down her inside leg, and knew inside that it was fresh – produced alone by the power of the Medea’s words in the girl’s mind.

“Good. Cover yourself and follow.” The Medea ordered. She turned to leave, then glanced over her shoulder at Carly with as playful a smile her blue face could manage. “Engineer, do enjoy your reward.”

***

Carly skipped quickly through her work, her mind confused with happy memories of the previous night, and angry questions about her captors that she had not before considered. Her mind’s eye could still see the glorious smile on her lover’s face as she came again and again, until her body began to shudder with exhaustion and Carly reached to the console to stop her reward.

Their evening of pleasure had been all that she had dreamed of, and had left her with a warm glow that stayed with her as she lay in Lonnie’s arms, still sticky with her squirted joy, quietly dozing off to sleep. But as they lay still Carly had began to wonder about the power that the Medea had over the young girl she had taken as her latest concubine, and how that power might affect her own imprisonment.

She explained what she had seen to Lonnie, and her lover had listened intently and gave a reply that was to her a chilling answer to the questions she realised she had been afraid to ask. Obviously Lonnie was familiar with such power – perhaps she had even met the Medea during her years as a slave, although she didn’t seem keen on telling Carly much about her experiences, and Carly decided not to push her. But now Lonnie’s uncharacteristically eloquent reply was spinning around in her head, chilling her more each time she recalled it: surprising, how much it had terrified her, and yet seemed to naturally perfect to Lonnie.

“You think the concubine is suffering, and yet she feels no pain. The burning you feel between your legs when you want your reward, that is not pain – not real pain. It is only pain in your mind, to feel that pain you need to have your mind. The Medea owns the concubine’s mind now. At first she suffered, for a few hours, or days maybe, but she gave up – and now she doesn’t have a care what really happens to her. She is as free as she will ever be.

“You hear her beg and you see her body twisting for relief. It’s her body that begs. Her soul is rested. Without the mind the soul can fly. You think the glassy look in her eyes is from tears of pain and suffering? It’s just a view to the void in her head.

“If you want to see real suffering, you should see what the Medea does to the girls who don’t give up their minds. You haven’t been in the dungeons here, have you?”

To that Carly had given no reply. She remembered curling closer to Lonnie after that speech; she had hugged her hard for a moment and rubbed her cheek into Lonnie’s chest. She wondered if Lonnie had felt the cold drops of her tears dripping down onto her chest, rolling across her neck and onto the bed.

Carly shook her head to clear it of thoughts. A heavily armoured doorway deep in the Grand Tower slid aside for her and she hurried through it onto the floor a great hall, richly decorated with red carpets and hanging drapes, surrounded by several levels of balconies. A high panel of screens rose from the floor at one end of the hall – the object of Carly’s next task.

Walking briskly behind the console Carly began to inspect the machine – fat pipelines fed power and data into what appeared to be a large computer, humming loudly to itself. Inspection panels flicked aside as Carly approached, revealing the components inside that required attention. Carly knelt down on the cold hard floor and peered inside, cautiously working her circuit tester finger into the gaps to check for faults.

As she rounded the rear of the machine her attention was caught by a marking on the back of an inspection panel cover. Immediately it seemed out of place – the aliens did not appear to be in the habit of marking or labelling components in any way, for Carly relied on the automated service manuals to identify components. She twisted her head into the machine for a better look at the odd symbol. It appeared to have been scrawled on crudely in a thin brown paint, perhaps by a hard paintbrush or a fingertip: a circle broken at the top, with a line through the bottom, a little like the letter Q. As Carly withdrew her head she realised the old crusty paint was blood.

Carly finished her rounds and returned to her room, pleased that she was on her way to rest, to be with Lonnie, and maybe share some of their hard-earned pleasure together. She realised that for once she wasn’t actually horny; maybe she had become so accustomed to the shield preventing her from masturbating or lovemaking that it no longer bothered her subconsciously. Tonight Carly would be happy just to lie down in her lover’s arms and be still, to try to think about her situation and if there would ever be an escape.

The dried blood symbol was playing on her mind; it seemed to be calling out its importance to her, although quite what that import was Carly could not seem to grasp. She decided not to tell Lonnie about it – first of all she wanted to know what she was going to say. She needed time to think.

The lift stopped with a momentary weightless deceleration and the door slid open. Carly knew something was wrong the instant she stepped into her room. Lonnie was reclining on the bed, as always, but her expression was different – somehow sad, dejected, slightly blank, and ever so familiar. As Lonnie stood and padded slowly towards her with outstretched arms, Carly realised she had seen that expression once before on Lonnie’s face – when they had first met on the cargo train.

Lonnie fell into Carly’s arms as soon as she was close enough, holding tightly onto her and burying her face into Carly’s soft neck. Carly wrapped her arms around the girl and hugged her close, comforting her with gentle strokes of her long wispy hair. Immediately she was afraid: what had happened to Lonnie to upset her so much?

“Sweetie, are you OK?” Carly soothed into her lover’s ear. Lonnie responded by bringing her mouth to Carly’s and kissing her deeply, massaging her neck and shoulders at the same time. Carly felt herself melt into the kiss, her tongue extending to tangle with Lonnie’s and seek out the pleasure in her mouth as a quiet hiss started from the showerhead on the far side of the room and steam began to fill the air. The delicate flavour of Lonnie’s love began to mingle with her own – sweet, sensual, familiar and even slightly musky. Suddenly Carly withdrew from the kiss, shocked at the memory of the taste: Lonnie’s mouth tasted of feminine sex.

Lonnie saw the look of shocked surprise on Carly’s face and hid herself in Carly’s neck again, mumbling quietly into her ear: “She made me do it, I’m sorry, she made me…”