Vesta - Painworld (19 page)

Two, three, four times she leapt forward, her deadly talons raking at her opponent, only for the wicked claws to scythe through empty air as a nerve-numbing blow thumped into her unprotected kidneys or back, sending her sprawling in an undignified and helpless heap from which the male cat could easily have extracted her and brought proceedings to an even quicker end.

He, however, seemed content to play with her, as a real cat might have played with a mouse, circling her prone form each time in a predatory crouch, his movements so feline it was even more unnerving than the power of his strikes and the speed of his reactions. Finally, seeing the futility of continuing the charade, Ellen conceded to the inevitable.

As her breath returned slowly yet again she rolled onto her back, spread her legs wide and issued a plaintive mewling through the gag mask that was an unmistakable invitation to her conqueror. The victorious male, however, was unwilling, if indeed he were even able, to slip out of his cat role.

Stalking over to where she lay, he bent, inserted one clawed hand beneath the small of her back and flipped her easily onto her side, reaching down for one ankle to pull it out and wide, while the other hand forced her shoulder further over until she was laying face down in the grass. Still not satisfied, he jammed a foot under her crotch and lifted, until his message was unmistakably clear.

Grunting through her gag, Ellen steadied herself on all fours, then lowered her upper body onto her horizontal forearms, forcing her rump high into the air and spreading her legs again as she did so. Her opponent needed no further encouragement, dropping onto her with a cry somewhere between a squeal and a snarl, his rampant organ finding her defenceless sex with unerring precision.

For a brief instant Ellen tensed against the assault, but it was only an instinctive reaction and she quickly forced herself to relax again, so that the distended knob of his huge shaft met no resistance as it began to probe inside her hot, moist tunnel.

‘Aaaahheoowww!' she squawked, as he continued to penetrate her, thrusting forward until she was impaled on the longest, hardest penis she could ever remember. She felt him rise up behind her, his fists grasping her hips so that his claws penetrated her catsuit and dug painfully into the flesh beneath, but by this time Ellen was oblivious to pain. Pain now was just another facet of pleasure and, as her conqueror began to pump in and out of her, she found herself reacting in rhythm and pleasure.

 

Degrading as it was, William's pony cart at least offered Lianne a respite from Christina's frenzied attentions. Seeming to change in appearance from her own blonde amazonian form to that of Gregor, the muscular smith, the Dane was plainly hell bent on exacting every ounce of revenge for what had happened between the two women on their last encounter, when Lianne's steel shod foot had broken her shinbone so sickeningly.

If there were any traces of that injury in the real outside world, here in this cybernetic painworld there were none. And if anything the woman was even more powerful than Lianne remembered from before, though dimly she understood that VESTA was capable of producing things that were as far from reality as most of her scenarios were so horribly realistic in their initial basis.

Finally, however, Christina appeared sated, though her virtual self showed no signs of the strenuous mauling she had inflicted upon her helpless prisoner. The steady rise and fall of her breasts could well have been no more than a reflection of her mental state as she stepped back from Lianne's limp form and turned away towards the back of the smithy.

When she returned she carried a coiled whip of heavily braided leather, tiny metal points glinting at intervals along its length. Lianne's heart sank yet again, for she could easily imagine the suffering such an evil implement could inflict, especially in the practised hands of a sadist such as Christina.

However, to Lianne's relief, William the stable lad chose precisely this moment to reappear, apparently quite unconcerned by Christina's now indisputably female appearance and seeing only Gregor before him. Christina held the whip at arm's length, proffering it to the youth.

‘I want this hung on the wall of her stall,' she instructed. ‘I want it where she can see it day or night, and I want you to give her one stroke with it every night before she sleeps. The marks will be gone again by next morning.'

William eyed the viciously toothed braid with not a little amount of scepticism. ‘S'cuse my sayin', master Gregor,' he said, shaking his head, ‘but I don't reckon any marks this bugger inflicts will be gone in a twenty-four hour.'

By way of reply Christina let out a bellowing guffaw and suddenly even Lianne was seeing her once more as the blacksmith. ‘Take my word for it, lad,' Gregor rumbled, ‘the marks will be gone by morning, for this is no whip like you've ever seen before.'

William's eyes widened. ‘Ah, ‘tis a magic whip?' he almost whispered, awe in his voice.

Again the smith let out a roar of laughter. ‘Let's just say it ain't of my normal world,' came the cryptic reply.

Finally and, apparently satisfied, William stepped forward, unlocked Lianne's neck from the pillory post, clipped on a new lead rein and led her, unresistingly, away.

Back at the stable block Lianne was introduced to the cart she was expected to draw, a lightweight single-seater buggy with huge wheels on a single axle, a long central shaft projecting forward so that its weight, combined with that of the pony would more than stabilise the weight of even the heaviest driver.

It was this shaft, however, that Lianne realised was to be the source of her greatest discomfort and humiliation, for whichever mind had been responsible for its design and conception had plumbed the very depths of degradation.

At its front end a short spar rose vertically, supporting a lockable steel collar. And just ahead of this a horizontal bar carried two similar wrist cuffs, ensuring that the unfortunate pony would be forced to walk or run with her spine kept all but parallel with the ground. However, not content with this simple torture, other refinements had been added.

Not far behind this assembly a broader band, plainly intended to encircle the waist, rode on a metal collar that permitted front and rear movement along the shaft, whilst ensuring that the wearer's stomach was kept close to the heavy pole. But even this was not the worst feature, for just to the rear of this device sat another, also mounted on a movable collar, but refusing any latitude that would permit the victim to dismount the thick phallus once it had been inserted into her sex.

Realising its purpose Lianne could not stifle a neigh of terror. But William, as ever, appeared completely unmoved. Sensing her reluctance, he used the coiled whip to slap her resoundingly across her buttocks, laughing as he did so.

‘Sooner you gets to learn, sooner it gets easier,' he chuckled, ‘for all of us, as happens. Now, walk on, gel, and lets get you hitched up proper. Hup now, Amber, easy on.'

A second blow from the coiled whip, much harder than the first, convinced Lianne that resistance was futile, for even though the blow was still considerably lighter than it would have been from the whip used in its intended fashion, it was still more than enough to allow the tiny barbs to jag into her flesh with painful results. She whinnied, bucked, but walked forward as instructed, making no attempt to resist as William positioned her astride the shaft on the ground.

‘Stand still and I'll make this easier for you,' William said, turning back to take something from under the buggy's seat. As he opened it Lianne saw it was a crude jar and that it appeared to contain a jelly-like substance; a substance William scooped out using two fingers and proceeded to apply liberally to the phallus that reared up just a few feet below Lianne's quivering sex lips.

‘No point in being over cruel, I reckons,' the stable lad said, and Lianne wondered if he was being ironic, before realising that was decidedly unlikely, given that he was, supposedly, nothing more than a computer generated entity. On the other hand, given that the vindictive Christina now appeared to be running things anything was possible, she reflected, as William lifted the shaft and presented the massive dildo to her gaping opening.

Thanks to the grease he'd applied and also to the fact that her pulsating tunnel was still wet from its encounter at the smithy, the phallus slid easily into Lianne, although its sheer length made her gasp as it was pressed fully home. Then, before she had time to react, William bent her forward and locked the waist band about her, following this by locking her neck and then her wrists, so she stood bent forward, the shaft held up between her thighs, her breasts dangling heavily to either side of it.

Still not satisfied, William attached a short strap to the top of Lianne's head harness, slipped it through a ring in the top of the neck collar and tightened it without ceremony, forcing her head up and back and depriving her of all but the slightest movement of it.

‘Needs to see where we're going, don't we?' William said, fastening the buckle end off. ‘You'll soon get used to it, same as all our fillies do. Now, let's add your tit chains and then we can go for a little practice trot.'

The chains in question were silvery in colour, but definitely not delicate in construction, for each link was at least two inches long and forged from metal more than a quarter of an inch in thickness. When clipped from either end to the heavy nipple rings they dragged Lianne's already distended breasts into an even more elongated shape, though the strap between head and neck prevented her from seeing this for herself.

William gave her a playful slap across her rump as he straightened up and then patted her between her shoulder blades.

‘You're an ‘andsome beast and no mistakin',' he said, stepping back to admire her. ‘T'will be a treat to school you an' then, if you do well, I'll see to you properly in your stall later.' As he spoke his right hand went to the front of his breeches and, as he walked past her field of vision, Lianne could not help but see the unmistakable bulge beneath the rough fabric.

 

Strapped securely once again to another version of Christina's mounting frame, Clarissa regained consciousness in the real world with a small gasp. The blonde amazon stood at the sub control console to one side, flicking up switches that cut the circuits to the assorted probes that surrounded the heavy cap that encircled Clarissa's head; probes that had taken Christina deep inside the painworld of VESTA as an invisible observer.

‘And the bitch will stay like that for the rest of her life,' Christina growled, locking off the final breaker. ‘They assure me there is absolutely no reason why that should not be for another fifty or sixty years,' she added. ‘Half a century as a dumb nag, never ageing, never able to speak, never able to escape.

‘Of course,' she continued, a wistful tone entering her voice, ‘out here in reality the ageing process will continue for all of us, so I may well not be around that long, but I have decided that I shall last long enough to see her end. Maybe a visit to the slaughterhouse and have her turned into virtual dog meat and glue, eh?

‘And then, who knows what strides science might make in the coming decades?' She stepped closer to Clarissa, reached out and grasped her jaw between fingers and thumb, pinching and squeezing most painfully. ‘We might even be able to get some geneticist to alter these pretty features,' she laughed.

‘Because, my little pretty, you are going to live a life out here almost identical to the one poor little Amber is living in there, and I think a nice horsy face would look good on you, too!'

‘You're fucking insane!' Clarissa's Australian accent was even harsher than usual as her words echoed around the plain walls, but all her outburst earned was a hard slap across her face which brought tears streaming to her eyes. However, she had now arrived at a state of near madness herself, both from what she had already suffered and from what she had seen being done to the poor blonde girl in the scenario she had been made to witness, and mere pain was not going to deflect her.

‘You're sick!' she screeched blindly. ‘Hitting me ain't going to change that, you great cowardly bitch. Oh yeah,' she moaned, shaking her head in an effort to clear her vision, ‘you can do what you want when you've got your victims all trussed up and helpless. But I doubt you'd be so fucking brave if I was free to defend myself, big as you are, you perverted filth!'

Christina's vague outline drew closer again and Clarissa flinched, steeling herself for the anticipated blow. However, the Dane did not hit her again.

‘I may just give you the chance to prove those brave words,' she hissed through clenched teeth. ‘It might be an interesting diversion and, when I've beaten you into a pulp, maybe I'll just circumcise you, like some of the African countries do to their women. That way I'd be sure you didn't come to like being used as a little sex toy - you'd just be a hole for men to fuck.'

‘Only if you beat me,' Clarissa sobbed. ‘But then, you're not going to give me the chance in a fair fight, are you?'

‘That, my dear little firebrand redhead,' Christina retorted, stepping back once more, ‘is where you could be so very wrong. So very wrong!'

 

Lianne was beginning to lose touch with what vestiges of reality remained to her in this unreal world, the snaking caress of William's driving whip keeping her up to a steady trotting pace around an oval circuit that was devoid of any feature, save its unending monotony.