The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Location: Corporate Headquarters Planet Undina II, Zabba Corporation Headquarters Stardate: 1552

“It’s time Bitchy.”

Arianna supposed, in a twisted way, she deserved that. That disgusting nickname. Even as her body tensed, her hands balled into fists to help control her need, her urge, as she unconsciously strained against the restraints holding her down to the enormous bed. The synthsteel restraints creaked even as she pulled against them, but both they and the bed posts held firm. Everything in the room was very specifically and meticulously measured to be outside of her normal range of strength by a factor of at least ten. It was a ridiculous cost, especially when her combat record showed that she was capable of punching through a three-inch thick plate of diasteel, a military-grade material used in everything from powered armor to blast doors on a spaceship. What diasteel lacked in the flexibility it made up in strength, being at least five times stronger than synthsteel. Which meant that the current synthsteel holding her prisoner was an at exorbitant price to manufacture. And unfortunately, that cost was tacked onto the end of Arianna’s massive bill to the Zabba Corporation, which considered it a necessary expenditure to keep her docile along with all the other sundry items that they forced her to purchase under her name. Written up in that ironclad tight document that was their “indentured servant” program to anyone who owed them a single credit. It might have been considered overkill, but you never wanted to leave Arianna with the impression that she could have broken free of the restraints. That would have been to invite a fiery, pain-filled death.

Or given how juiced she was, she might have simply fucked whoever was there until they were a dried-out, dehydrated husk.

She literally felt as if she were on fire from the waist down, a thin sheen of sweat coating her pale skin, as her thighs, dressed in pink frilly, girly-girl stockings that she despised, trembled involuntarily. Her nipples were rocky, throbbing strawberry peaks, reacting to the insidious vibrators humming at a low, almost imperceptibly sonic whine. They were finely tuned, once again at her personal expense, to her nervous system with one sinister goal—to give her the maximum amount of pleasure in the shortest amount of time. Most other women would have fainted dead away from their stimulation alone being too intense to handle, but not Arianna. No, she could, and did, take far much more punishment before she would succumb to anything silly like hypoxia from hyperventilation because her quivering body couldn’t draw enough gasping breaths in between bouts of blinding pleasure so intense that it made the three suns of Undina II seem dim. She was fucking strong and could take far more than anyone else this side of the galaxy when it came to abuse. Not even the carefully cultured fleshbots, made specifically for pleasure and pain, could perform at the level Arianna did day in and day out as required of her.

No doubt to the sick delight of the man, who was more like a monster, who owned her.

In a sense, her new name was some sort of strange revenge; that much the former bounty hunter understood. After all, when she and Cornelius Fisk, the fucking golden boy of the universe, had both been in the Lunar Company XVI, Arianna took to publicly addressing him as ‘QueerneliusFsck’, which was the universal spaceminer slang for ‘Queer Fuck’. It really was a tasteless mockery of his name. Admittedly, he had never seemed to acknowledge what she had said or even appear to be outwardly bothered by it, but Arianna wasn’t fooled. She knew that he was. In fact, she was pretty sure that if anyone else ever dared utter something like that, he would’ve executed them on the spot. But not Arianna. No, not her. Simply because she was too strong, too wild, and to start a fight with her in close quarters was dumber than if you set your spaceship on autopilot into the center of those three blazing suns of Undina II, finding the sweet spot where it was the hottest. It was complete and utter suicide. The only plus of flying into the sun was that your death would have been quicker than if you chose to piss off Arianna. She had ways of making you regret ever crossing her path.

So ‘Queernelius’ ignored her. And she knew he hated doing that. That deep down, every fiber of his being burned with cold rage and wanted nothing more than to shut her up. But he let her get away with it, that petty name-calling. Because they both knew the truth, that Arianna would fucking crushing him if it ever came to hand-to-hand combat. He was no match for her, which was also why she was so pissed off. He had gotten so fucking lucky that day they had actually crossed fists briefly, and he actually owed her for making his rep what it was today.

She didn’t even remember what exactly had sparked the fight, something stupid she was sure. It had been Cornelius’ first week as a Wolf and they were taking him around and getting him acquainted with all the members. Arianna had been training, like she always did, flowing from one smooth form to the next, in a fluid, deadly dance. Alone, completely alone like she always was, fighting against whatever demons that others couldn’t see as her fists lashed out. It was during those times that she could come close to quieting the deadly rage that burned within her, that kept her up sleepless at night, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, until she consumed enough liquor to finally put herself out. It was at these times as she flowed from one deadly strike to the next that she almost felt tranquil. She was a master of five unarmed forms of combat: Taekkyeon, Kempo, Muay Thai, Hop Gar, and Hei Hu Quan, and coupled with her ungodly reaction time made it so no one could match her. A few of the Wolves had tried initially, but no one ever bothered to try anymore. And dimly, she had heard Cornelius asking who she was, obviously only knowing of her by her reputation and never having seen her face-to-face. Something ridiculous considering that how famous she was. After all, she was the only person in known history to ever have defeated the Lunar Company XVI, twice. No unit or army had even done it once prior to that time, much less done it all alone. It was literally an impossible task, a holy grail of sorts.

The first time had been when they had gotten in the way of her mark, a deserter Wolf by the name of Jebo Greely. The Wolves had wanted him to deal with in their way, the so-called Wolves’ Code, but Arianna had been hired to bring him down and turn him in for major credits. Her biggest job at that time when she was only eighteen, a fresh-faced bounty hunter of two years, though she was starting to make a name for herself and a reward of a cool three billion credit being offered by Altaris VII for the crimes he had committed on the planet. She had tracked him down to the little squatter town, Sion, and had just bagged him when the Wolves had shown up. Wanting for her to hand over her hard-earned prize and walk away. That arrogance raised her hackles so she had told them to go to the place where the sun didn’t shine. And so, a firefight erupted. She had managed to escape the entire company then, just barely, still a bit wet behind the ears, and drag Jebo off the planet. That little feat made her an overnight galactic sensation as every single holocaster wanted to know who the hell Arianna Luskarelli was. And though she technically hadn’t beaten every single Wolf, the rumors went crazy and wild all over the holoweb.

Well, of course, the Wolves weren’t going to take that from her. And so they hunted her down, trapped her on Nasus, an abandoned space outpost, and were moving in for the kill. Arianna was low on ammo and low on options, outmaneuvered against a superior collective force, knowing that she had bitten off far more than she could hope to chew and swallow. But she wasn’t stupid and had done some further research on the Lunar Wolves and found something interesting. It was in their bylaws that anyone had the right to duel, to challenge the Wolves one by one in hand-to-hand combat, and if she could defeat them all, they would have let her go. On the Company’s honor. So, she had shouted her proposition over the wall, her omni-gun out of battery as they closed in on her fortified position. Actually, she hadn’t expected anyone to listen to her; there were on an abandoned outpost, after all, no one would know the truth of what happened here, and she doubted the honor of the Wolves really amounted to all that much when it counted. But the Captain of the Wolves, Wesley Woodyard was a different sort of man. He was someone from the olden times where honor, duty, and justice still matter and so he had granted her request, much to her surprise and to everyone else’s. Overriding the protest of his fellow men-in-arms as their leader and commander.

And so, she had won the first time. It wasn’t easy, but because one-on-one combat, she had stood a chance. In this area, she was unmatched and unstoppable. Though as she was getting ready to leave, a bruised Wesley half-staggered up amidst his beaten men and admiringly asked if she would consider joining the Wolves. If she would put her ungodly skills to use under the banner of Lunar Company XVI. It was so ridiculous that she was about to laugh and then leave. But his eyes, those eyes of his, caught hers and held her until she was forced to look away. Unwilling to admit aloud that all this time she had been looking for a home.

Indeed, being alone was a terrible thing.

So after a long moment of deliberation, she had accepted. Holding out her hand for him to take as she helped haul him to his feet and dust him off his uniform. Then, she had given the first salute she had ever given her entire life. It was a little sloppy and rough around the edges, but it had brought a smile to the Captain’s face as he saluted back to welcome his newest Wolf.

Of course, the incident became once again one of the most famous events in recent history. Though neither Arianna nor the Lunar Company XVI ever specified the details of what exactly had happened. For her, she didn’t really care and for them, it was a stain, a mark on their honor, that they had been defeated. And of course, the holoweb reported it as her having beaten the Lunar Company XVI a second time. Letting the legend of Arianna Luskarelli grow bigger with each passing day. So it had really bothered her when Cornelius Fisk apparently did not seem to know who she was. And at the guide’s somewhat incredulous reaction, he had brazenly, almost clinically, noted that the only thing he saw that was special about her was that the fact that she had a nice ass. That had been enough to bring her flowing form to a screeching halt as she had turned her head to flatly look at him, dressed in the new digs of his uniform, even as the guide backed away from what would soon be a dead man. Or more likely, just a severely crippled man, since the Captain would have never approved her killing another Wolf.

Oh right, she wasn’t supposed to remember what had started the fight...

It still bugged her, knowing that she should have won without increasing her heart rate a single tick, yet she had been off her game for some odd reason. Off enough that she couldn’t bring out that top gear she normally so easily found and things degenerated into almost like a schoolyard squabble, exchanging equivalent blows with the new Wolf, while the onlookers, her supposed comrade-in-arms looked on and cheered that there was someone who could finally stand toe-to-toe with her. Fucking morons. Too blind to the truth that was fucking staring them in the face and jumping up and down.

There were rumors, of course, after that fight that she had lost her edge. That she was easy meat now and everyone could stop in by for some well-earned payback. After all, she had her fair share of enemies in the Wolves. It really chafed them that she was now one of them instead having to pass through the silly recommendation process where she needed three signatures, one from a Colonel and two more signatures from a Captain to even be considered for the company. So there were a few brave, foolish ones that thought since she had tied with ‘Queernelius’ it would be easy now to beat her. She had disabused that notion almost immediately when a pair of Wolves, hyped on Mimi-Juice, a potent new age liquor that could be used to polish the outside hull of a starship, had dared pick a fight with her. She had dropped them both in less than ten seconds, breaking enough bones that serving in the Wolves again was a nigh impossibility, even after they healed. Of course, that only cemented ‘Queernelius’ reputation of being a badass even more, but Arianna supposed she had to live with that. Though they both knew. She knew that Cornelius understood. It was in those baby blue eyes of his as he stared at her cold, dark brown ones a second right after the fight had been halted by the the sharp bark of Captain Wesley Woodyard, the only man she ever respected in this whole goddamn place, and she had been so fucking pissed that she stormed off without a single word. She knew that he knew that he had won the fucking jackpot of his life. And if he ever dared to try and push things up to that level again, where fists were thrown, Arianna would make sure there wouldn’t be enough left of him to fill a ceravial, a small ceramic vial the size of a thumb, used to dispose of bodies in the future in a proper way via cremation upon their death.

Admittedly, they were both smart enough to avoid one another after that. He lead the missions with the team, having that inside track that all the favored elite were given without every having to work for it, rising in rank with each successful operation. Arianna, on the other hand, took the solo jobs, the most dangerous “hot zones” with no hope of extraction should she fail. Though she never failed. Even though the average mortality rate was approximately twenty-five to thirty-five percent per mission, she was far from the average. More like the 0.000000000001% on the end of a statistical distribution. So she had completed close to six hundred “hot zones” over the course of her duty with the Wolves. Normally, those types of things would have rained down accolades and the highest praise, but not for Arianna. She only ever got a bland, semi-damning whiff of praise in the commendation letters from the top brass along with her next set of orders. Each mission crazier than the last like they wanted to fucking kill her, but were too pussy to do it themselves.

The only exception was Captain Woodyard, who would stop in after a particularly hard mission. Where Arianna was busy nursing bruises and cuts in the dark, too proud to admit how close she had been pushed to the abyss, and he would stand there. Not say too much. Normally, simply let her tend to herself in silence as he watched her. Sometimes, offer his congratulations. Once, he had brought her a gift. Nothing elaborate, not fancy—just some aged malted scotch that he had managed to pick up off-duty plus a simple card expressing his thanks for her service. It had been actually the one thing she had taken when she had left the Wolves and something she deeply treasured. She hadn’t ever opened the bottle and if there was one thing she regretted in life, besides the fact that she was now a fuck-puppet for a man she despised, it was that she never had cracked the seal to take a drink. And now, she probably never would have that opportunity because she didn’t know where the fuck that bottle was.

And so, her and Mr. Golden Boy continued on. Actually, it was actually pretty brave of him to have that desire for revenge; most were scared too shitless to even think about making the infamous Arianna for paying for what she did or said. She had built up a reputation as literally one of the most feared people this side of the galaxy. Not intentionally, it was simply a byproduct of who she was. You did not fuck with Arianna Luskarelli. You never fucked with Arianna Luskarelli. Those that did got the blessed opportunity to regret their attempt to fuck with her in exquisite detail as she took the time to quadruple the two hundred and six bones in the human body, being skilled enough to make sure that the person’s heart didn’t stop beating until she finally crushed their sternum that one last time.

Which was what made her current predicament all the more ironic. Now, she was paying, paying, paying. Paying for her slights. Paying for her attitude. Paying with her quivering body. Paying back a debt she couldn’t hope to possibly pay, and not just in the monetary sense.

Back in her heyday, being called ‘Bitchy’ would have had her casually shattering the speaker’s kneecaps so they’d need to spend over a month in a regrowth tank to heal, and then around three to six months of intensified physical therapy until they regained their motor skills but she understood that those words was almost something akin to gospel truth. Arianna Luskarelli was a bitch, once the biggest, baddest bitch this side of the galaxy. Infamously, she had been known as the Lone Wolf while she had begrudgingly served in the Lunar Company XVI, a supposedly elite team of crackshots. Behind her back, she all called her by another name. ‘The She-Bitch Who Must Not Be Named.’ Ridiculous. Just fucking ridiculous. Like she was some sort of bogeyman, used to scare children to eat their nutraveggies, specially enhanced super vegetables that would stimulate and promote the maximum growth of the child. Available, of course, only to the elite of the elite. The fucking stuck-up bastards who thought they were so much better than everyone else.

Actually, most of the Wolves hadn’t been all that special. Most were more like dogs than Wolves, sticking together and sniffing at and licking one another’s asses as they congratulated each other on a job well-done. Just little mutts looking for a whiff of glory for being part of a such a prestigious company, the pathetic fucks. Really, there were only a handful of men in the company that she considered real Wolves. Captain Woodyard and unfortunately, Cornelius Fisk, both belonged to the latter category. While Arianna would have never admitted it publicly, not in a whole millennium of time under the strictest torture, but the man could inspire, could lead. He could get troops to rally behind him in a way that had never seen before and he was the man to get the job done. In some many ways like yer. Yet so different. He was a pack leader, an Alpha, and it was something she also resented him for silently.

But seriously? The reputation of the Lunar Company XVI was really quite overblown. Arianna could face-off at least half a dozen men from the unit in straight hand-to-hand combat before beginning to break a sweat. It would actually take probably at least a full two platoons before she began to fatigue ever so slightly, and probably over three battalions to overwhelm her. Hell, if you were a paranoid fuck, and who wasn’t when facing off against her, you’d be better off with a whole division of men behind you.

The sad thing was, the Wolves were just a company, which put them roughly around one hundred and fifty to two hundred men for the entire company, so of course, there weren’t enough men to take her down. And this was the supposed elite of the elite. For the more mundane sort, Arianna was good enough to singlehandedly lay waste to entire planets so long as she had sufficient ammunition and stamina. Which was why it was the ultimate power rush to have her like this, helpless and quivering with need.

“Would Bitchy like it if Daddy allowed her to cum today?”

Arianna tried to offer her best glare, her dark brown eyes burning with what she hoped with rage, instead of a puppy-dog needing some affection, even as her face burned in humiliation. She had already given in once two days ago, the itch being too big to resist, as she had garbled out a ‘Yes, please, Daddy’ which undoubtedly was the sweetest music to Cornelius’ ears. How his eyes glittered as he told her ‘No.’ So she wasn’t planning on demeaning herself today by begging him for it. Though she had also resolved that to herself yesterday, but still had ended up begging to cum as well after he had teased her a bit. Her freed pussy gasped needily, almost like a fish out of water, as her reddened and swollen lips oozed with an arousal she couldn’t hope to contain that made for a sticky, sweet puddle in between her flexed thighs. The aphrodisiac she was daily given ensured that. It was ridiculously expensive to produce and was added as a debit on her account. Along with a new set of sheets, after all, she was going to ruin these ones with the next breeding session.

Even years into her captivity to her most hated foe, he had a way to bring her down, to drag her yet lower. Hell, she was already in the dirt, in the muck, but Cornelius seemed to want to construct a personal pit of hell for her to wallow in. Hence, the bright candy pink gag in her mouth. It wasn’t too tight, because she hadn’t really misbehaved in a way he could punish and therefore she could warble a bit some semi-intelligible words, but she hated how she looked as she stared up at the floating holo-screens, displaying her from every angle. The words like ‘Spunk Disposal Can’ written in a creamy white on the gag, and the demeaning nano-tats that he could change and reposition on a whim, ‘Please breed me’ right where her little patch of hair was supposed to be, and ‘Filthy Anal Cunt’ written over her belly, described her situation. Simple a wet cunt, a moist hole for Cornelius Fisk to abuse. And despite herself, despite that iron will that had defined her entire life, Arianna couldn’t resist a whining beg, made in the back of her throat, as his thick, meaty cock slapped down on her wet slit, her eyes clouding in pleasure from that sensation even as her back arched, straining against her bonds as her bottom lifted off the sheets and her toes curled as the sensation was enough to push her to the edge. Yet hold her there trembling in frustrated denial.

Gods...it felt so good...

“Has Bitchy been a good girl? Does she deserve to go cummies?”

Another slap with his cock, causing her to whimper in denied frustration even as her neck jerked, against her will, in a nod of agreement with her Master. So much for that iron will. Today was particularly bad because Cornelius had spent part of the evening dallying with one of the Zabba Corporation cunts, an exec named Rebecca Bolton. Or to be more specific, it was always ‘Mistress Bolton’ for Arianna. Tonight, the bitch really worked her over. She didn’t understand why; she had never even met the woman until she was Cornelius’ trained bitch, but Rebecca seemed to have a personal vendetta against Arianna. Like she had it out for the former bounty hunter and wanted her to pay. Or maybe she just got her rocks off, abusing Arianna, like so many others who didn’t even know her outside of her former reputation, did. There were no shortage of people who seemed to love lording it over the former bounty hunter.

Today, she had sat down the formerly proud bounty hunter’s face, smothering her as Arianna was forced to lick and suck while the woman cooed and told her how great it was to orgasm. How nice to was to achieve that cresting pleasure and how easy it was that even Bitchy’s half-assed licking could get her off. And meanwhile, the other woman had worked Arianna’s ass over, using some flexible, flanged device to really dig into the soft folds of her ass even as the former toughest woman in the galaxy had keened and wailed as she was denied again and again. Brought right to the edge, but never able to escape, a prisoner of that hateful metal disk, that fucking chastity belt, that owned her so thoroughly that she couldn’t even begin to reach the tiny spot she so desperately desired.

All the while, Cornelius had watched in silent amusement Then, after that, Arianna was forced to provide the same pleasure to one of Rebecca’s indentured servants, allowing the poor girl over a dozen orgasms. Meanwhile, ‘Mistress Bolton’ had used a different toy, a stiff, ridged strap cock with a cockhead full of stiff spines as she ravaged Arianna’s ass. Plundering it fully with that large cock as there was a belt function which caused the faux cock to rotate at a murderous 6000 rpms. The line of pain and pleasure so utterly blurred as Arianna had literally gone out of her mind for a second, blanking in the white noise almost sure she could cum now, before cold, hard reality came back. That she still couldn’t cum and wouldn’t be able to cum until tonight when Cornelius took her upstairs for her ‘breeding time.’ That was her only chance, and even that wasn’t a guarantee. Nope, Mr. fucking Golden Boy had to be in a good mood to let her achieve release.

Bitch. Fucking bitch.

The feeling of his cock-head against her pussy was utterly divine as her eyes rolled around in her head, her cunt greedily trying to suck him in for all that she was worth. Before he could decide to change his mind and lock her up again. He had done that a few times when he was feeling particularly cruel, teased her with the faint hope of fulfillment, before he locked her away for the day and then simply jerked off over her as he spilled his copious seed on her. Of course, he still had bred her later, but that torment, on top of all the other shitty things that happened to her during the day, was almost enough to make her cry. Almost. Arianna still did not shed too many tears; it was easier to get blood and sweat from a fucking moonrock, but occasionally, just every so often when she was really overwhelmed, when Cornelius had really broken her down for the day, would she let a few, salty tears leak from the corner of her eyes. It was really a testament to how owned she was that she cried at all.

And those, more than anything, hurt her to the core.

“And do you think today will be the day I put a bun in your oven? Can you imagine that, Bitchy with a big bloated belly, carrying my child? Wouldn’t that make Bitchy proud? We may finally have found a use for a good for nothing, useless cunt like Bitchy. Other than just to be a warm hole for me to fuck of course...”

Those words filled her with revulsion that was so icy-cold that it dampened her ardor momentarily as her glazed eyes snapped open with a crystal clarity. She knew that Cornelius had paid some ridiculous number for the right over her and her sex. The right to be the first to knock her up. And she hated that she was utterly helpless to stop him. It wasn’t an ‘if’, but only a ‘when’. Honestly, she really wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he seemed to be waiting, just content to keep her in utter suspense, never knowing if today was going to be the day that he really chose to seed her with his children. Did he really want her to bear his children? The sick bastard was only thinking of causing her more pain; Arianna didn’t want to birth a child into such a terrible situation. Although she would have never admitted it, starting and raising a family was something of a fantasy she allowed herself from time to time. That one day she’d find the right man and settle down. Though she’d always banished such thoughts. Now, it seemed as if her Mr. Right was really as Mr. Fucking Wrong.

Yet he still hadn’t done it. He still hadn’t gotten her pregnant. She wasn’t sure why but she felt the smallest bit of gratitude for that. Though she squelched that immediately. Cornelius Fisk definitively didn’t have her best interests in mind. Perhaps he was waiting for something else? Some other sign that would signal her fate? Just the thought made her want to puke.

But those thoughts didn’t stay with her for long, in fact, they were utterly obliterated, as he slid deep inside of her. Buried right to the hilt as she threw her head back and let loose an agonized howl, the pleasure flooding her brain, firing those neurons into overtime. The walls of her wetness gripped him so tightly that he had to exert quite a bit of force to draw free before he slammed into her again as a wet squelch echoed in the room as her juices flowed. Thankfully, the aphrodisiac made her wet enough that he could escape that vice-like grip of her cunt; otherwise, there would have been a real problem. Again and again, he pounded her. There was no love, no tenderness in his actions, as he rutted with her much like he might rut with one of the Zabba Corporation’s featured sex toys. Their famous ona-hole, which was just as good as a real pussy. It was so good, in fact, that some worlds, the ones with notoriously low birth rates, outlawed them, from the markets. Scared that the men of the planet would prefer those over a real woman for the pleasure it could provide them.

And despite herself, despite her will, Arianna came along with the ride. Her chained legs rising as much as they could to try and wrap around Corenlius Fisk, to stop him from leaving her before she could orgasm. Almost as if some quasi-parody of love-making as she shouted, half-cursed in the gag, biting down on it so hard that she notched the rubber as he owned her again and again and again. With each thrust proving who was really in charge here now in their little relationship.

Then, with a loud grunt, he came deep inside her, as she felt, on some level subconsciously, his thick, creamy white seed filling her insides as she also saw it, in her mind’s eye, that peak that she was striving for. If these chains weren’t on her...

...and then suddenly they weren’t as she shot to the mountaintop in a flash as Cornelius finally let loose the seal. Arianna Luskarelli’s own orgasm was spectacular, as she shrieked so loud that anyone within a few hundred meters probably heard her, her inner walls squeezing her hated foe so tightly as she milked him greedily for every drop that he was filling her with. Her toes were scrunched so tightly that they would have snapped a two-inch thick piece of wood between them like chaff as she spasmed in delight, her mind completely blank besides the overwhelming sense of pleasure, of relief, of joy, as she rode and rode the wave, never wanting to get off even as she could fill his cock head buried right up to the entrance of her womb, filling up her most secret part with his baby juice.

Unfortunately, it ended all too soon as Arianna regained her senses, her trembling, sweat-soaked body aching, as Cornelius pulled free from her with a wet pop. The post-orgasmal letdown was always murderous, leaving a hollow feeling in her, as she once again choked back the tears even the hateful metal panel slide back in place, locking her tight, as it transformed, the synthsteel warping into a large cock. Cornelius had tauntingly once told her it was programmed to his exact dimensions as it swelled until she felt like she had eaten too much, stuffed to the brim. Trapping that white, creamy seed deep inside of her. At least today, he hadn’t decided to program it to add in those vicious spikes that dug into her sensitive walls so it would make moving at all a painful torment beyond belief.

“I think Bitchy enjoyed that. Isn’t Daddy a kind master for letting her have such pleasure? But now it’s time for Bitchy to be put to bed. She was a naughty girl and made a mess all over Daddy’s bed.”

“And whose fucking fault is that?” Arianna thought spitefully, once again in control of her own senses, her resentment for what was being done to her welling up freshly in her breast. And she knew that her night wasn’t over yet. No, ‘Queernelius’ still had a few finishing touches that he wanted to put on her, as a sign that he owned her ass.

As he undid the bindings on her arms and feet, she tensed. This was her chance! She was free! She could strike! She could...do fucking nothing. Her muscles didn’t obey her, too well-conditioned by the brainwashing she’d received to raise a hand against her Master. In fact, all the bondage was completely unnecessary, Cornelius just enjoyed using her as a mental reinforcement of how he could do whatever he wanted and how the infamous Arianna Luskarelli, biggest, baddest bitch in the galaxy, just had to bend over and take it. Take it right up her ass like she was about to in a few minutes from now.

She was still so lost in her letdown of the orgasm that she didn’t notice the tenderness of his touch, how protectively he handled her, as he placed her in the chamber that would prepare her clothes for the night.

“Time to put Bitchy into one of her nighties.”

And as she was coated from head to toe in a pink, bubblegum latex, Arianna wanted to sneer. Really, was this really the best color he could come up with? Day in and day out, it was pink this, pink that. What she wouldn’t give for some fucking yellow. Or red. Or hell, even orange. Just something else besides pink! Though she understood that he knew that she hated the color pink. Once, one of the Lunar Wolves had gotten her a pink squeeze toy as a gag gift. Needless to say, the aftermath hadn’t been pretty. And as she was forced into a fetal position, the clamps still torturing her nipples and working her libido steadily up and her mouth forced to accept her thumb as she sucked on the digit, the mental conditioning too strong to go against or argue with as she waited.

Knowing that her final humiliation awaited her.

In the pink synthsteel cage she went, as it molded around her curled form. Her ass nice and vulnerable. Exposed. Her cheeks spread and waiting for her Master to come and do the honors. And as she waited as her heart began to pound faster despite her best efforts. Would the fucking bastard just get this over with?

“It’s time for your goodnight kiss Bitchy.”

There was something so unbelievably smug in Cornelius’ voice even as she felt him rubbing the bulbous head of his cock against the entrance of her ass. Teasing apart the soft petals of her rosebud as she unwillingly accepted him. She wanted to fight against this, to curse, and she had done so in the past, but what was the point? He had her right where he wanted her and so she simply groaned in delicious agony as he slowly penetrated her, much in the same way he had done with her pussy. Feeling him claim her in the most humiliating way possible. Until she was ‘Bitchy’, Arianna very rarely engaged in anal sex. She didn’t like it; she didn’t hate it. She just never did it. Now, she did it every day, every place, sometimes multiple times a day with multiple different people. Her ass had been trained so much that as her insides gripped his thick cock, Arianna was already panting around her thumb with pleasure. Intense pleasure from being taken anally. Her eyes squeezed shut in the humiliation of that thought even as she felt his firm hands grabbing those cheeks to spread them wider even as he pounded her, the cage trembling from the vibration even as Arianna was suffered a series of mini-gasms, her locked pussy spasming. Each ruined orgasm making her a little hotter than the last one until she was positively boiling, right off where she had been before her ‘breeding time.’

But no relief in sight.

And with a groan, he came in her again, giving her his ‘kiss good-night’, this time filling her ass with his seed even as she groaned aloud as her bottom trembled beneath the thick, gooey spurts filling her guts. Then, he pulled free almost reluctantly but not before she could feel him pressing a large, oversized plug up against her ass. Forcing her cheeks apart to trap his seed deep within her bowels. The finishing touch as it were. There was a half-twist to secure it and then it also began to slowly vibrate, adding to the maddening sensation that was already heating her loins with a fresh fire. There would be no real rest for ‘Bitchy’ tonight, teased and tormented. And Arianna swore she could hear Cornelius chuckle even as he left alone for the night. His unspoken words ringing in her ears adding to her flushed, angry face even as her hips twitched in the first of her many mini-gasms of the night.

Arianna Lusakrelli, the She-Bitch Who Must Not Be Named, really did have a nice ass.