Content notes: slavery; mindfuck; chemical control/chemical neutering; existential horror; science fiction; multiple orgasms; toys
As soon as they stepped into the restaurant, Slave felt a strange heat wash over her pelvis.
Master Hart noticed her hesitation, of course. He stopped and watched her, smiling, as she squirmed in place. "What is it?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. "Nothing, Master."
Perhaps just a chill; maybe she was getting sick. Or…it could be a malfunction in her neutering chip. It was difficult for her to tell. It had been five years since she'd reached puberty and had the chip—a legal requirement for all slaves, to render them infertile and also discourage unauthorized sexual activities—installed, and it had been so long since she'd felt any sort of true arousal, beyond the background burn and preoccupation with sex that even the chip couldn't fully destroy, that she was unfamiliar with it.
But there was no mistaking the feeling between her thighs as they crossed the room to a table. The tingling heat was still playing across her senses, not quite pleasant but not entirely unpleasant either, and a tell-tale wetness was starting to trickle between the folds of her genitals. She stopped as they reached the table, flushed, and squirmed again, even as Master Hart sat.
"Kneel, Slave," he reminded her, smiling. She chewed her lip and shifted her thighs, then shuddered at the feeling of her rapidly-engorging labia rubbing together.
"Master, I think—" she lowered her voice to a whisper. "I think there's something wrong with my chip!"
Master Hart's smile widened to a grin. "You could say that. Kneel, Slave, and look around."
She dropped to her knees obediently, shivering as the pose forced her to squeeze her thighs around her tingling sex, and looked around. It took some time for her to understand what she was looking at.
Masters and Mistresses sat around, of course, with slaves in various stages of undress, and that wasn't so unusual. But the responses of the slaves—that was different.
They were all flushed, moaning, straining. A male slave laying on the floor mewled as his Mistress kneaded his balls with her foot, his straining, hard cock leaking onto his stomach. A female slave was beginning to make a bit of a commotion; she was bouncing up and down on a dildo that had been secured to the floor and letting out increasingly loud cries, her face red, her cunt clearly slick with natural fluids and not just lube.
Slave gasped as she finally realized. "A dead zone?" One of her hands crept to her thigh, not fully conscious of the movement until she felt the sudden shock of erotic sensation, a re-awakening of the nerves that made the skin there especially sensitive.
"That's right. There are machines here that shut down the signal from your chip as long as we remain inside the restaurant. I admit I don't really know how it works, but I can see for myself that it's working exactly as advertised." He winked and nodded down to the bottom of her very short skirt, where her fingers were fiddling with the edge of the fabric and grazing against the quickly-overheating skin. She flushed.
"Master, that's—that's illegal, isn't it?"
"Only if we get caught," he said with another dazzling wink, then he looked over at the other slave who was fucking herself on the dildo. Slave looked over, too, because the woman was really making a production now: she was grinding down with increasing violence, her breathless gasps turning to open-mouthed groans, her legs splayed out and thighs shaking. She was a more heavy-set slave, muscular, possibly a fighter in one of the betting rings.
"Oh!" the other slave shouted finally, grabbing onto her Mistress's leg with both hands and arching her back, her tight muscles going taut. "Oh, yes! Finally! Oh, god!" she bellowed and then came, her whole body shuddering as she mashed herself as far down on the dildo as she could go, grinding her red and engorged clit against the floor. "Fuck! Yes! Mistress! Yes!" She panted as her body stopped quaking, then groaned and reached down, beginning to vigorously rub at her clit, and then she howled as she came a second time, throwing her head back as fluid gushed obscenely around the base of the dildo. Her mistress laughed and patted her head indulgently.
Master Hart chortled, too, then looked down at Slave right as her fingers slipped up under her dress, stroking experimentally along her own damp slit.
The contact was electric, a sensation she was entirely unused to—she had never really been given a chance to masturbate before her chip was installed—and she jolted and let out an overly-loud gasp.
Nearby, another slave locked eyes with her and whined out a quiet, shaking orgasm as she ground down on her own Master's shoe, rubbing the sensitized folds of her sex over the rough texture of his laces.
Slave's cunt clenched in a sympathetic burst of arousal, and she yelped, then moaned as the sensation tingled through the rest of her body, lighting up every nerve ending until she felt that she could draw a map of her own internal anatomy. Her pussy, usually so cute and neat and ready for display, was growing wet and gaping under her, buzzing with sensation as she tried not to brush it too hard against a floor that was already growing slick with her juices.
Was this how free people felt all the time? Surely not, or they would never get anything done. She recognized distantly that, after five years of her sexual instincts being entirely repressed, perhaps her reaction was proportionately stronger.
Nearby, a male slave who had his head up his Mistress's skirt began to utter muffled squeals, his body jolting. He had something buzzing inside his ass—a vibrating plug, Slave recognized, from porn videos her own Master had watched while fucking her unresponsive body in the past—and his cock was jerking and spilling onto the floor as he panted into his Mistress's cunt.
For the first time, Slave wondered what that would feel like, to have someone's mouth on her own sex that way. She shuddered, muscles in her core flexing, and she wondered if she was having an orgasm already, if she would be able to tell if she was. All of the other slaves seemed to be making a lot of noise when they finished, so she supposed she wasn't yet.
"You look overwhelmed," Master Hart noted. When Slave looked up, his smile was amused, not annoyed, so that was alright.
"It's," she bit her lip and shifted her hips, flushing to feel the obscene slickness between her thighs. "I don't know...what to do, Master."
"Why don't you start by touching yourself?"
Slave bit her lip again, nervous, but she knew even if it was phrased as a question, her Master was giving her an order. So she reached down between her legs and placed a finger against the round, fleshy curve of the outside lips of her pussy, and immediately shuddered and moaned.
"Good?" her Master asked, and Slave nodded, slowly beginning to massage her sensitive core through the thick barrier. Occasionally, her fingers glanced across the more sensitive inner folds, already flushed and engorged as they were with the sudden impact of five years' worth of pent-up arousal, and her whole body would rock at the sensation, little cries falling from her lips without her permission.
"Do you know where your clit is, Slave?" Master Hart asked.
She hesitated, breathing heavily, then nodded. She had received basic sex education. But her primary experience in touching that area was entirely clinical; washing herself, or preparing herself with lubricant for use by her Master, with no more sensation than she would expect from touching her arm or her face. Now, she could tell, it would feel very different.
"Rub yourself there," he instructed, but she hesitated. "Is there a problem?"
"It...it feels too sensitive, Master," she whispered. "I'm scared."
"You can go slowly. That's why I'm letting you touch yourself," he said, and then pointed to another table, where a Master had a slave over his lap, his fingers buried in her cunt and his thumb grinding against her clit. The slave was kicking and shaking, sobbing, tears rolling down her face as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of her excruciatingly sensitive body. "We can do it that way, if you're not brave enough to touch yourself."
"I can do it, Master," Slave said immediately, and pressed her fingers between her slick folds until she encountered the hard, throbbing little nub at the crown. "Oh! Ah—ahh!" Her hips hitched automatically, trying both to pull away and grind into the sensation at the same time, each glancing touch sending burning heat up through her core and her spine.
“Intense?” he asked, and she nodded, panting, not quite able to pull her finger away even though the feeling still frightened her. "Are you going to come, Slave?"
"I—I don't know, Master," she admitted, and then pressed her finger in a little tighter, feeling the erect little bundle of nerves throb with her pulse. "I don't know how to tell. It's...so much."
"I suppose that's fair. You've never had an orgasm before, so you wouldn't know," he allowed. "The tip is usually the most sensitive part. Try rubbing at the base of it."
She did as he instructed, pressing her finger deeper until she found the spot where the little organ met the soft flesh of her pussy, and rubbed in a slow circle. Immediately, her cunt clenched and she let out a loud cry of surprised pleasure. "Oh!"
That attracted attention from some other tables—especially from the slave who had been making so much noise earlier while riding the dildo, who was now laying on the floor, panting, and gave Slave a sly little look like she knew exactly what she was feeling. Slave flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't stop herself, rubbing her finger in circles and then back and forth across the proud little jut of flesh where her clit sprang from her body as shockwaves of pleasure echoed up through her.
"How does that feel?" her Master asked as Slave panted.
"It feels good, Master. I've never—I didn't know it was like this..." she trailed off, rocking her hips, as the echoes of pleasure began to build towards something, her body tensing. "Oh. Oh..." Her breathing picked up as her cunt clenched, hard, and then she wheezed out a final “Ah!” as the waves of pleasure broke over her, dragging her under into the shaking, dark depths of her first orgasm, where all she knew was the shuddering and quaking of her body and the tense ricochet of pleasure somewhere deep in her core.
When she returned, dazed, to the outside world, she felt a growing dread, because she already knew that one would not be enough.
Her cunt was looking to make up for five years of stolen orgasms, five years of her body being used like a toy and experiencing nothing but numbness, five years of her young adult libido being suppressed under a cocktail of chemicals and targeted nerve counter-stimulus. Her body was waking up with a roaring hunger, one that she didn't know how to sate.
"Oh, god, Master," she whined, her hips still rocking. He laughed.
"Good? I think you nearly passed out there."
"I need it again," she whined, rocking her hips helplessly.
"I see that. Come on up here," he said, patting his lap, and she hesitated, glancing again over to the slave girl whose Master was still coring out her sensitive cunt with two rough, thick fingers, mashing her clit into her pubic bone with his thumb. The slave had gone limp and unconscious in his lap, but her entire body was still twitching and jerking as if an electrical current was being run through it.
Master Hart laughed. "Come on now. Have I ever been that cruel to you?"
"No," she admitted, chewing her lip, then climbed up into his lap. He pulled her forward so that she was straddling his hip, her cunt dragging across the bulge in his pants: a familiar pose, but now it felt entirely different, and her eyes rolled back as she groaned and pressed down on him, leaving the fabric damp. He chuckled.
"Hold on, hold on. Here." He unzipped his pants, keeping one arm around his Slave's rocking hips to hold her in place, and she gasped as the hot flesh of his cock suddenly pressed into her folds.
"Master!" she moaned, and had a fleeting thought that she hadn't prepared herself, and then she realized it wasn't necessary; she was producing more than enough lubricant on her own, and her cunt felt gaping and empty, not in need of stretching. As she rocked her hips against him, their flesh slid together with a slick sound. "Oh, Master, please. Oh—oh wait—" she paused as the head of his cock caught on her hole at an odd angle, almost painful, but it send a sharp sting of pleasure through her, and then she was convulsing again, panting out a smaller orgasm that was nonetheless no less earth-shaking for the undersexed Slave.
Master Hart made a quiet noise of appreciation as he felt his Slave's grasping hole massage his cock-head. "God, that's good. Almost like a real woman. Better, even," he murmured, and Slave moaned at the praise, her hips jerking. "I can see why Bernie was raving about this place. Come on, now." He helped her shift her weight to free the rest of his cock, and then he guided it into her as she sank back down onto it.
Master Hart's cock was very familiar to Slave—he fucked her at least every evening, sometimes more often on lazy days—but her own cunt was not. It was enflamed now with arousal, slick and grasping, muscles clenching tight around the rigid length inside her, and she wailed as soon as he bottomed out in her, and then again as she tried to rock on him and ended up grinding her clit against the rough fabric of his pants. "Master! Master!"
"Settle down," he said, stroking her back. "People are staring."
"I can't! Oh, oh!" she cried, her legs flailing awkwardly as his cock pressed against something deep in her that dragged another hard orgasm out of her, yanking her violently into a dark, crushing chasm where the only thing that mattered was the recently-woken nerve endings in her cunt and the cock that was rubbing up into all of them. She may have been screaming, or maybe that was only in her head.
Slave woke up on the table.
She was spread on her front, breasts mashed into the hard wooden surface, her hips held apart by Master Hart's strong hands as he fucked into her from behind.
"Ohhh," Slave groaned, feeling the pleasure dancing through her, the slick sound of something sliding through her aroused cunt striking her as obscene and filthy. "Oh, Master."
"Back with us, are you?" Master Hart asked. "It's been a few minutes. How do you like it?"
"Uhhn," Slave mumbled eloquently, flexing her hips, and he laughed breathlessly. "Mm—your cock," she tried again, but she could already feel the pleasure gathering again, each thrust building on the last as a tension grew somewhere deep in her, and it stole away her ability to think. She groaned in apprehension, once again frightened by the appetites and demands of her own body, by this monster that her lust had become through the years of suppression.
At the table across from theirs, a slave—an older woman, perhaps in her thirties—lay face-up across her Mistress's lap, her legs spread to allow her Mistress to hold a little bullet-shaped vibrator against her wet cunt. It looked as if they had been there for some time, and the slave looked half-fried, her eyes wide and staring and her thighs coated in both fresh, wet fluids and dried ones, hips rolling as if she was simultaneously trying to grind into the vibrator and escape it.
As Slave watched, the slave girl's hips hitched a few times more urgently, and her mouth fell open as if she was trying to say something before her body seized in a trembling orgasm, her hands gripping at her Mistress's thighs as if she was trying to claw her way out of the depths. She began mouthing something urgently that finally resolved into words.
"—too long. Mistress, I can't—I've always needed this? It was always supposed to feel like this? Fifteen years..."
The woman laughed at her slave's confused babbling and changed the setting on the vibrator to something that made the slave jolt and shudder. "No, dear, for slaves it's never supposed to feel like this. Enjoy yourself while you can, you'll be too old next year anyway. They only let in slaves under the age of thirty-five."
The slave showed no sensible understanding of the words, just groaning and shuddering under the new stimulation buzzing away at her swollen clit.
Master Hart began thrusting faster, and Slave whimpered, truly feeling the stretch of it now, not just as a nuisance that meant she hadn't prepared properly but as a rough and grinding pleasure that twanged against that building tension inside of her. "Oh—oh, Master, oh, yes—" she gasped breathlessly, and then yelled as she came again. She didn't lose consciousness this time, and the feeling of her entire cunt clenching down on her Master's cock, impressing the shape of it deep into her flesh, immediately wrenched a second, sobbing orgasm from her on the heels of the first, until she was scrabbling at the table, overstimulated and confused as her Master groaned and emptied his hot seed into her throbbing body.
"Yeah, fuck, that's good," he grunted, and remained in her for a moment. "Feeling you milk my cock. It costs a lot to get in this place, but it's less expensive than the simulated orgasm add-on, hmm? And I bet that doesn't even compare to this."
He didn't seem to expect an answer, fortunately, because Slave wasn't sure what he was talking about and she was too dazed to come up with a response. As his cock slid out, she moaned, the trickle of fluids and the cool air against her hot skin immediately making her want more. "Master..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. They said you might be like this," he said, smiling indulgently. "You need to pace yourself, though, hmm? Make sure you don't do any damage. Does anything hurt?"
Everything below the belt was just a mess of sensation for her. "I...I can't tell," she admitted, chewing her lip, and then she gasped as he pressed a finger into her, stroking her wet insides. "Oh! Oh!"
"Just checking," he said, but he was smiling at her, amused, and his finger continued to rub and stroke. "Does any of this hurt? Anything feel sore?" He curled his fingers, pressing on a particular spot, and Slave's body lit up like a Christmas tree, her back arching off the table as she cried out another orgasm, grinding down hard on his fingers. "Guess not," he laughed. "Okay, settle down. Back on the floor, you've been making a scene."
Slave allowed Master Hart to guide her back to the floor and into a loose kneeling position. Her knees wouldn't fully close, and she could feel both her own fluids and Master Hart's cum sliding out of her cunt as gravity did its work. She shuddered and thought maybe she should feel disgusted by the sensation, but it just made her moan and wiggle her hips.
A waiter came by and presented a selection of prepared appetizers to Master Hart, and then a selection of toys: dildos, plugs, vibrators, and some things that Slave didn't even recognize. Master Hart took a couple of things to eat and then a couple of toys—a ribbed dildo around the same size as his own cock, and another of those hand-held vibrators—and waved the waiter away. He handed the dildo down to Slave.
"Here. Do you feel empty?"
"Yes, Master, thank you," she said, immediately leaning forward to slide it into herself and groaning in relief. The stimulation helped to settle her; it wasn't enough to stir her up into another climax, but it helped soothe the aching clench of her cunt, leaving her feeling satisfied and attended-to. It gave her some time to look around again as her Master ate.
The slave at the next table over, the male who had been eating his Mistress out, was lying on the floor in a heap now, moaning quietly as the plug continued to buzz away inside of him. As Slave watched, he shuddered and tensed and his cock jerked, dribbling the barest amount of seed as another orgasm was wrung out of him. His Mistress looked down and tutted.
"Are you sure you don't want that out, dear?" she asked, and he shook his head urgently, shivering and squirming and grunting as his cock jerked again in some aftershocks or perhaps a second, entirely dry orgasm.
The other nearby slave, the older one in her Mistress's lap, was nearly insensate, sprawled out and only held in place by her Mistress's cocked knee now as her Mistress continued to work at her steadily with the vibrator. She was moaning lowly and mumbling, sounding as if she was urgently trying to communicate something to her Mistress, but it was only nonsense. She fell silent and jerked as an orgasm tore through her, and then relaxed with a long, plaintive moan, reaching down and pawing at her Mistress's hand as if urging her to keep going. Her Mistress let out a tinkling laugh and turned up the intensity on the vibrator, drawing a deep groan from the shuddering slave.
"Here," Master Hart said, holding down the vibrator to her. "You want to try this?"
"I—yes," she said doubtfully, nervous again, but the need was beginning to coil in her body again, demanding something more, something to put a dent in the years of unsatisfied numbness.
It was small enough to be easily held in one hand, though a bit bigger than the vibrator being used by the mistress at the other table. Slave fumbled with it for a second, twitching in surprise when the little thing jumped to life in her hand and began humming away at the lowest setting.
"Try it on your nipples first," Master Hart suggested. That seemed like an odd suggestion, but again, it was really an order, so Slave touched the buzzing end to one of her nipples and immediately groaned, her thighs squeezing together as her cunt pulsed around the dildo. Master Hart laughed at her again. "Nice, isn't it?"
"Yes, Master," she moaned, and kept it there for a long moment, her mouth hanging open as the stimulation dripped through her and pooled in her stomach. "Oh. Oh..."
"You're not going to come like that, are you?" Master Hart asked, curious. His Slave was beyond answering him, though. She rocked a little, grinding on the dildo, and groaned. The arousal was building within her, opening up wider and wider like a chasm, but she didn't know how to tip over the edge; her body had yanked her over every time so far. She felt close, though, so close, the toy buzzing at her nipple igniting a new kind of pleasure in her. She whimpered.
"Try rubbing your clit, too," Master Hart suggested. His Slave heard the words, but didn't really understand them; she rocked on the dildo again and groaned, curling inward a bit around the molten core of pleasure churning in the center of her body.
"Hmm," Master Hart said thoughtfully, and then he turned to the Mistress at the next table, pointing to the male slave on the floor who had finally had his plug removed and who was now lying there drooling, only partly conscious. "Could I borrow him?"
"Oh, certainly, if you can get him to move," the Mistress said, winking.
Between the two of them, they managed to nudge and coax the slave into a state of awareness, and eventually he understood what was expected of him. He crawled over to Master Hart's table, to where Slave was whimpering urgently now, rubbing the vibrating toy back and forth across her sensitive, pert nipple and entirely preoccupied with how the sensation travelled directly to her clit and throbbed there.
When the other slave appeared in front of her, she stared at him in confusion and some embarrassment.
He stared back, his eyes big and dark and still dazed, then—at the direction of Master Hart—he laid down in front of her, his face between his legs, and latched his lips around her tingling clit, one hand slipping under her to push up against the toy buried in her cunt. The orgasm hit her like a truck.
Slave wheezed, the air going out of her body entirely as she shook and shuddered, her hips rolling almost violently to grind against the other slave's hand and mouth. When she got her voice back, she was still coming, and the only noises she managed were shocked little squeaks. It was too much; Slave felt like her world was coming apart, like the pleasure was fracturing something inside of her. The little noises became a sob, and she hitched her hips more violently, then wailed as the other slave rasped his tongue over her and a second, even more powerful orgasm overtook the first.
When Slave became properly aware of herself again, she was saying "yes". Just that, over and over again, as she rocked her hips and ground the toy inside of her against the floor: "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," like she was assuring her body that she understood what was happening, what it was trying to tell her.
The other slave had gone back to his Mistress's table and was tugging idly at his half-hard cock, coaxing himself to another shuddering, dry orgasm as Slave watched.
"Yes, yes, yes," Slave said quietly to herself, feeling the dildo jolt over and over again inside of her, sending bursts of pleasure through her, thinking of all the times she'd felt Master's cock hit her in the same spot and felt nothing at all. This was it. This was what that other slave had been trying so desperately to communicate to her Mistress. That there was so much of her body made for this, that she had needed this for so long, and she had never even known.
Master Hart reached down and rested a hand on her head. "Having fun, there?"
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," Slave repeated, flexing her hips in instinctive little jolts.
"Careful. If they think you can't handle the mental strain, we'll get kicked out," he warned her quietly. Slave hiccuped and finally was able to silence herself, even though she still felt the rightness of the pleasure pounding away inside of her like a revelation. Yes, yes, yes, yes.
"No!" someone else was screaming. Slave looked over towards the door.
It was the same slave who had made the commotion earlier, fucking herself on the dildo so vigorously. She was struggling now, fighting her Mistress as they walked towards the door.
No, not truly fighting. She wasn't trying to get away. She was just trying to stand still, stumbling along reluctantly, one hand rubbing furiously between her legs.
"One more! Just one more, Mistress! No, no! Oh—" the slave lost her battle as she came again, shuddering and arching into her hand, and her Mistress was able to drag her shaking body towards the exit.
"There you go, then, that was your one more. We need to go home."
"No, no, no, one more," the slave repeated, hoarse, her hand immediately picking up the punishing rhythm again, slamming the heel of her hand against her clit as if she was trying to squeeze the orgasm out of it. "Just one more, one more, Mistress, please!"
"And then one more after that, and one more after that," her Mistress said, rolling her eyes. "I have work tomorrow, come on."
As they reached the doorway, the slave screamed again, another desperate denial, rubbing her pussy hard until her Mistress reached down and yanked her hand away.
Master Hart tutted. "Poor creature."
Slave blinked several times and let out a quiet, shuddering sound, continuing to rock her hips against the floor. Yes, yes, yes, yes. She reached down and ran a finger along her clit, almost as an afterthought, and howled as an orgasm snapped through her like a whip, tumbling her into darkness again.
Slave woke up draped over Master's lap, coming again. He was holding the vibrator against the base of the toy that was inside of her, making it tickle and burn, and she sobbed and rolled her hips and then shuddered all over as the orgasm was wrung out of her like water from a towel. When it stopped, she was crying.
Master Hart reached down and brushed the tears from her face. "Are you getting worn out? Should we go?"
Slave hesitated, licking her lips. Part of her said no. Part of her was so bewildered, so offended, by the very idea of leaving—of going back to her normal life, where her genitals were nothing more than a part of her body, where adult pleasure was entirely alien to her—that it took her breath away.
The rest of her recognized the danger of this response, and she quickly nodded. "Yes. Master, please, I think we need to leave. I—I can't be here any longer."
She would not make a spectacle of herself, begging and pleading to stay within the dead zone. She would not embarrass her Master by trying to explain to him how vital it felt to finally have access to her own sexuality for the first time in her life.
"Alright," Master Hart said, easing the dildo out of her. Slave shuddered at the loss of it, her body already ramping up to demand another of the orgasms it had been looking for for the past five years, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Master patted her thigh. “I’ve had my fun, we can go. Can you walk?"
She nodded, then stood, shaky and stumbling, rivers of sticky fluid trickling down the inside of her thighs.
Master paid at the front, and already, as they stood near the door, Slave could feel the edge of the dead zone, the sensations in her cunt and her clit and her nipples fuzzing into that warm prickling sensation she'd first felt while entering. She took a breath and held on tighter to her Master, steeling herself against the urge to run back into the restaurant, to beg and plead.
As they walked back outside, the sensations left entirely, deserting her like a fickle friend and leaving her with only the sticky, uncomfortable aftermath on her cooling body and a strange looseness in her cunt.
"If we came again some time, how would you feel about that?" her Master asked as they walked to his car.
"I don't know," Slave whispered numbly.
Master Hart considered this for a moment, and then nodded his understanding.
THE END