72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhO7xC01a3O
[Optional task: listen to this audio while standing with your hands bound over your head. Make sure you can get out easily and that circulation won’t be cut off. One approach would be to tie loops in each end of a rope, tie the middle of the rope around a solid object, then to put the rope over the top of a door with the loops on one side and the object on the other. Then close the door, reach up and slide your wrists into the loops. And if you can, have a running vibrator in you. Now enjoy the story.]
Carrie-Ann blinked, looking around the dungeon. Ok, it still looked a little like an abandoned parking garage, but it was dungeon-y enough for her purposes.
She had a weird feeling of disorientation. She had thought she’d see some kind of loading indicator, would have to wait, remove the headset, click a few more options and then explicitly tell it to start the simulation. But here she was in all of its 3D glory. Scary-looking implements and restraints were all over the place, exactly as she had set it up. Perfect! This was going to be great.
She looked down at herself. She was completely naked. Hmm. Now she was wishing she had found a way to get some latex lingerie on her avatar. That could be fun. Well, maybe next time. It was interesting that the scan managed to recreate her body faithfully. This was no longer a generic female avatar. This was HER body. Every inch, every curve was an exact match for her real body.
Just like in the preview, the agent entered the scene. He opened a steel door along one wall and walked in. “We're willing to wipe the slate clean, give you a fresh start. All that we're asking in return is your cooperation.”
Hm. That line was getting a bit stale. She really should have put more effort into his dialogue. On the other hand, maybe it wasn’t worth it - she wouldn’t want to hit that strange message about needing a higher-level AI. And why wasn’t she feeling the vibrator? Did it die already? Or did the headset’s biofeedback override what she was feeling in the real world? She had expected to feel both, but it wasn’t as if she had taken time to read the manual.
The agent glowered at her and strode towards her purposefully, jolting Carrie-Ann out of her musings. Suddenly she realized what was about to happen. Her heart started pounding faster. He wasn’t huge, but he was taller than her. Stronger than her. And she knew he would stop at nothing to put her in her place. She had made sure of that.
Staying still like a deer in headlights suddenly seemed like a bad idea. Carrie-Ann decided to run for it, even if that didn’t make sense. The agent snatched a riding crop from a rack of tools and pursued her. When she tried to slip around him, he struck her hard across her left breast.
That freaking HURT! She knew the headset would make her feel sensations. She didn’t expect it to feel so real! Suddenly she was wondering if she should have dialed down the sensitivity.
No time for that now. She had managed to get around the agent and was running full tilt towards the door. He was right behind her. Given a little more time, she knew he would outrun her.
Panting, Carrie-Ann yanked open the steel door and fled through it, out of the dungeon.
Or at least, she tried to.
Beyond the doorway was only darkness. A tangible, oddly slippery darkness. When she tried to move through it, she found herself sliding off to one side.
Right. She hadn’t bothered to implement anything but one room. This was where the boundary of the simulation ended.
A strong hand gripped her hair and yanked her away from the door. Wow, the pain was so realistic!
“Never send a human to do a machine’s job,” the agent growled in her ear.
Ok, she really should have spent more time on the dialogue. Or just disabled the agent’s voice. She had thought that would be boring, but the buggy, random lines were annoying her.
He dragged her along by her hair like a caveman. Carrie-Ann felt animalistically desperate to escape. She tried to twist away, which did nothing but painfully increase the pain of being pulled by her hair. She tried her best to punch the agent’s side. He didn’t even flinch. She suspected that wasn’t just because he was a simulation. Carrie-Ann’s strike felt weak even to her. But she felt something else too.
She felt incredibly turned on.
It wasn’t her fault. There was something deep and primal about knowing he was stronger. Feeling weak and vulnerable. Something about the way his strong hands enforced his will over her. It was hot to be tossed around.
Oh. And she had also dialed up this avatar’s arousal. Everything that happened in the simulation would turn her on more than it would have otherwise. She’d be dripping wet at the slightest touch - and she had a lot more waiting for her than light touches. For all she knew, a spanking would make her cum thanks to the increased arousal.
The agent slammed her back roughly against the cold concrete wall of the dungeon, knocking the wind out of her. Wow, she was discovering she really loved being manhandled!
He raised her hands over her head and locked a manacle around one wrist. He had to pull her up on tiptoe to make it reach. While he was doing that, she managed to wrest her other hand free and slap him as hard as she could.
It seemed to affect him less than the bite of a mosquito. He turned the gaze of his sunglasses on her coldly. “Like The Dinosaur. Look Out That Window. You've Had Your Time.”
Ok, the first thing she was doing after this was fixing the agent’s dialogue.
But wow, did he look intimidating right now.
Once one wrist was locked up, he easily recaptured her other wrist and locked it as well, high overhead. She flailed with her legs, trying to kick him. He just caught one leg effortlessly and pulled it out to the side, locking another shackle onto it. Trying to kick him with her last free limb was just as ineffective. In moments her legs were spread wide, the chains pulling them outwards. Now they weren’t even touching the ground. All her weight was on her wrists. Fortunately, this wasn’t a realistic simulation. She didn’t have to worry about little things like blood circulation or other issues. She could be kept bound in the tightest restraints indefinitely with no ill effect.
Of course she wouldn’t want to just be in this position for a very, very long time… right?
He slapped her across the face, apparently as payback. She gasped. Not from the pain. It didn’t hurt as much as she expected. She was just surprised by the blast of pleasure that shot through her. He slapped her again and it was every bit as good. She moaned. She wished she could rub her thighs together, but her legs were spread wide. Her most private of places was completely exposed and vulnerable. He could see everything and do anything. That was a very sexy thought.
He grabbed her nipples and twisted them viciously. She cried out in pain. His face was still stern and impassive. She hadn’t programmed him for emotions. He was only programmed to be cruel to her.
The agent took some nipple clamps from a hook. A chain connected them, with a weight hanging on the chain. He tightened the clamps on her nipples, and the weight immediately pulled downwards mercilessly. Carrie-Ann moaned, biting her lip. She enjoyed the simple nipple clamps she had in her nightstand, but she never fastened them this tight, and didn’t use weights. These HURT! But it also felt very, very good. Maybe dialing up the arousal on this avatar wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
The agent took a cattle prod and powered it on. Carrie-Ann’s eyes grew wide and she shook her head. What had seemed like a good idea when watching avatars on a computer screen no longer seemed so good when she was here and everything felt so real.
He ignored her mute protest and pressed it against her thigh. She squealed at the electric shock snapping into her skin. The agent calmly responded, “That is the sound of inevitability.”
He gave her a few more shocks in various places around her body, each one making her quiver in the chains keeping her suspended and spread. Then he opened his fly, pulling out his cock. The position was a bit awkward, due to her bondage, but he made it work. He rammed his hard manhood into her with all the precision of a machine, as well as the utter lack of passion. Each time he slammed into her it shook her in her chains, which just made her weighted nipple clamps bounce around, torturing her that much more.
He only had thrust into her a couple times before she came, shuddering and shrieking in her bonds. It was strong enough that she would have likely fallen to her knees if not for the chains keeping her in the air. She was surprised - usually she didn’t cum this quickly.
He didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down or even acknowledge her orgasm. He just kept dispassionately hammering her insides with his cock, and in moments Carrie-Ann was desperately horny again.
She came twice more before he finished, cumming deep inside her. At least she didn’t have to worry about pregnancy or STDs here in the Metatrix. He pulled out of her and fastened his pants, not needing to worry about any kind of mess.
The jerk gave her butt one more shock, then turned around and left. He paused only to toss one line back at her: “I’m going to enjoy watching you.” Then he disappeared through the door, dissolving into the darkness beyond that represented the boundary of the simulation.
Carrie-Ann caught her breath, hanging in the shackles limply. Wow! What a great experience. She wanted to do this every day!
She looked around the dungeon. They hadn’t used much of what was in here. The agent could lock her in a cell, or in a tiny cage that barely fit her. There were all kinds of chains and shackles to hold her in different positions. All kinds of tools of torment to use in “interrogating” her and making her squeal. She looked forward to trying each and every one. Well, maybe not all of them. After how intense this experience was, she thought she might alter or remove some of the more extreme ones. Those weighted nipple clamps were really hurting, for one.
Oh well. The agent would use everything in this room on her. Or rather, on her avatar. Even after she exited the simulation, it would keep running. After some minutes or hours, the agent would return and torture the avatar again. Carrie-Ann felt a brief moment of pity for the level 12 AI that would be bearing the brunt of that. Well, it would be fun to watch. But right now, these clamps were really hurting and she was getting tired of hanging in these chains. She also needed to do some laundry and get ready for bed. Time to exit the simulation.
Carrie-Ann tried to mentally bring up the interface.
Nothing happened.
She focused harder.
Nothing happened.
She was really wishing she had taken the time to read the manual now. Isn’t this what she did before? How did she bring up the command interface?
She tried yelling out various commands. She tried making gestures with her hands - at least, as much as she could. Her weight was hanging from her wrists over her head. Being in such stringent bondage didn’t give her much mobility.
Carrie-Ann felt a cold sweat trickle down her back. In a moment of panic, she screamed out as loud as she could and struggled desperately in her shackles, yanking as hard as she could to try to pull free!
She might as well have been trying to pick up a building. She wasn’t going anywhere. She was stuck. Maybe there was a bug. But eventually the headset would log her out, or run out of battery or something, right?
Wait.
Oh no.
Oh god, no.
She thought back to when she was creating a new AI for the avatar. What was that ethics warning she had flashed past? Something about human-level intelligence and self awareness? And then that gap in her perceptions. She had jumped straight from starting the brain scan to being in the simulation.
She wasn’t Carrie-Ann. The real Carrie-Ann was out there somewhere, fondling herself in her latex and getting off while enjoying the simulation. She was the level 12 AI. A perfect replica of Carrie-Ann created solely to live out all of Carrie-Ann’s BDSM fantasies.
She had no future outside of this dungeon. Every moment of her existence was going to be as a dungeon slave, forever imprisoned, tortured and used again and again without any hope of escape.
Carrie-Ann’s muscles tensed. She found herself pulling hard on her wrist and ankle shackles, her head tossed back, shrieking out loud as an intensely powerful spontaneous orgasm tore through the permanent dungeon bitch.
ns 15.158.61.12da2
