The Ultimate Game – Chapter Two
Kat was slowly waking from her drugged slumber; an injection of a powerful sedative had kept her compliant during the long journey. She woke slowly, in stages, climbing back towards the light. Her thoughts were sluggish, mired as if moving through thick treacle.
Eventually she began to recall events, Kat could remember the games and then suddenly the horror of her hopeless fight to remain awake while her mask filled with gas, was all she could think of.
Her shaking arms, so heavy she could barely lift them, raised up so slowly, checking her face. To the terrified woman’s relief she discovered that it was bare, the foul mask had been removed. The adrenaline seemed to clear her thoughts slightly, and Kat began to take in her new surroundings. She was in a small chamber, laid down on a solid bed. To her surprise, the young woman realised that her clothing had been changed at some point. She now wore a positively indecent body stocking in deep blue, it clung to her and even without checking it was apparent that she wore nothing underneath.
The suit covered her from neck to ankle and she wore boots of a similar shade. Her hands were bare, but the suit continued down her arms to her wrists. A large zipper fastened the suit in place, running from her throat to her groin. Around Kat’s left wrist was a large bulky bracelet, similar to the one she had worn during the games. But this version seemed to have been locked in place and there was no obvious way to release it.
Kat’s stirring was detected by several concealed sensors. After a brief pause, a recorded message began to play;
"Congratulations on being the survivor of the final deathmatch competition. Your prize is that you have not been packaged and sold into slavery. So much for the good news. I’m afraid the bad news is that you have been brought here, far from your home and that you will have to fight for the privilege of staying free."
Kat merely gaped as the voice continued. She really couldn’t believe that this was happening.
"Initially each of the girls here will be divided into pairs and will have to fight one another. The winner will be the girl who manages to render her opponent helpless. In the case of a draw the referees will decide your fates. Once one of the competitors has won, they will decide if their victim will be released and join their team, or whether they will leave the island to whatever fate awaits them."
While the voice was speaking, a small drawer slid open almost soundlessly. Kat wouldn’t have noticed it at all until the voice suddenly drew her attention to it.
"You will no doubt have spotted the container that has recently opened in the side of your cot. Inside you will find the basic equipment with which each competitor is supplied. More interesting equipment is concealed around the grounds. But be warned, there are also a variety of tricks and traps designed to snare the unwary. Of course should you be caught by one of these, you will become very easy prey for your opponent."
Kat turned her attention to the equipment, the first item that caught her attention was the belt. There were a number of pouches spread around it as well as a holster for the paintball gun. The gun itself was identical to the ones she had used before, and there were four tubes of ammunition (amounting to forty shots in total). The other items were more disturbing, two small rolls of blue duct tape, several short lengths of climbing rope and a set of plasticuffs like the police used. The most unsettling item of all was a hinged circle of shiny metal, apparently some sort of collar.
The confused woman quickly looped the belt around her slim waist before buckling it in place. Then she proceeded to load all of the items into the appropriate pouches. The belt wasn’t particularly bulky and didn’t seem to hinder her movements, for which Kat was grateful.
"Although you will be assigned your primary target, all other competitors should be considered fair game. The only safe areas on the island are these dormitory buildings. No attacks may take place here and any such transgressions will lead to the competitor defaulting the match, with the consequences that implies", the message concluded.
Without any other option, she tried to force herself to wake up, assuming that this must be a terrible dream. An insistent bleeping shocked her from this futile effort. She glanced down at the bracelet, fear gripping her as she remembered what had happened the last time. A flashing message announced, "BATTLE COMMENCING". At the same time, a previously hidden door opened onto a well-lit corridor.
"Please leave the dormitory block now", the same voice announced, "You have ten seconds".
Not wanting to find out what would happen if she chose to remain where she was, Kat stepped quickly out of the room. The door slammed shut almost as soon as she had passed through it. This sudden movement made her jump, stumbling as she did so. In the end, that was what saved her. The paintball, which seemed to have been aimed perfectly at her, instead impacted against the doorframe.
Her ambusher cursed, struggling with her weapon. Kat was stunned, hadn’t the message said that she was safe here? She didn’t even consider using her own gun, instead standing slack jawed as the woman again drew down on her. She stared into the woman’s face, seeing the degree of vindictiveness there. But, suddenly both of their bracelets began to chirp angrily.
"RULE BREECH – Contestant 17 Defaults Match", read the illuminated display.
The woman stared at her wrist, horror replacing the vicious smile on her face. Then, without warning, her features seemed to soften. Her mouth formed a silent, "No", before she collapsed bonelessly.
Kat stared at the would-be attacker in confusion. It was only when a new message appeared on her own bracelet that she begun to understand.
"Contestant 17 Defaulted, Will you release them, or will they leave the island?"
She stared at the bracelet, then the woman and then back to the bracelet. Surely she wasn’t really expected to make such a decision? The sense of unreality descended again. Different explanations warred inside her mind; she was the victim of some elaborate prank, she was going mad or again the desperate hope that she might still be asleep. Once again the bracelet dispelled her illusions with its high-pitched beeping.
"Failure to communicate a decision will result in another rule breech", the scrolling message threatened.
Forced to accept the reality of her situation, Kat tried to weigh up her options. She didn’t want to condemn anyone to being packaged and sold into slavery. That was the fate that she remembered the original message had suggested. But, this woman had tried to ambush her and that suggested, in combination with her current state, a mixture of ruthlessness and stupidity that she definitely wouldn’t want on her team.
Realising that she was rapidly running out of time, Kat shouted her decision.
"Okay, she can leave the island".
"Contestant 17 GAME OVER", the bracelet displayed, "Please ensure that she is wearing her own collar before collection".
The message initially confused Kat, but when she thought about it more closely, it seemed to make sense. Assuming that they had all been given the same equipment when they woke, each of the girls would be carrying a collar. It seemed that whoever was running this "game" had provide them with them not, as she had assumed, to place on their victims. But rather to be worn themselves if they lost. Briefly she considered throwing her own collar away, but she realised immediately that this would most likely cause her to default the game.
Shuddering slightly, she crouched and began to search through the other woman’s equipment. She was a small and compact woman, who appeared slightly younger than Kat. Her form-fitting body stocking was a slightly different hue and Kat idly wondered if this was significant. It did not take long for her to find the collar, but she took her time, making sure that she had divested the other contestant of everything she was carrying.
This netted Kat a second gun with an additional twelve rounds of ammunition. She also found two more rolls of duct tape, coloured green, apparently to match the woman’s outfit. It appeared that her rope and cuffs had already been used. Kat found herself imagining what might have happened to the women on whom they had been used. The realisation that this woman had already captured other contestants stiffened her resolve. It suddenly didn’t seem such a terrible thing to condemn this woman to whatever consequences occurred when you were forced to leave the island.
Kat discarded the woman’s gun, after retrieving the remaining rounds from its magazine. Then, trying unsuccessfully to control her shaking hands, she swept the woman’s hair away from her neck. Next, she clumsily fastened the metal collar around her throat. The click as it locked seemed frightening loud and when a tiny ribbon of smoke issued from the mechanism a moment later, Kat’s jangling nerves made her jump in shock.
Three red lights illuminated on the rim of the collar. One by one, they turned green, each change punctuated by a soft chime. Kat found that she was shivering now, horror at what she had done replacing her earlier feelings of justification. What had she done? What ever happened to this woman now, wasn’t it her fault?
Once more, her bracelet started its irritating beeping. She glanced angrily down at the screen, secretly glad of the distraction.
"Contestant 31 – One Collar; BATTLE STILL IN PROGRESS; Leave dormitory block now", scrolled slowly before her eyes.
After Kat had hurriedly left, another concealed hatch opened and two orderlies climbed up into the corridor. Quickly they lifted the motionless woman, before unceremoniously lowering her through the hatch. Moments later the only indication that anything untoward had happened, was the small splash of paint now decorating Katherine’s doorframe.
Contestant 17, or Alyson Groves, struggled to move. She had remained horribly conscious throughout the last few minutes. Her bracelet, registering her indiscretion had injected a powerful paralytic into her bloodstream. She was forced to watch, waiting while Kat tried to decide what to do with her. For a short while she had dared to hope that this "newbie" would be weak and let her go free. But it seemed that she might actually have the killer instinct.
Of course, defaulting would have earned her the collar, but the game still allowed you three mistakes before you were finished. She imagined how she would have waited until they got outside, before shooting the too-trusting fool in the back. There would be no mercy for anyone she caught, in this game, freedom was not a prize that could be shared.
It was all academic now. Lifted bodily, she was carried into the bowels of the building. For all her strength, the toxin was just too potent. Her strongest efforts didn’t result in even the barest twitch of movement. Her mind screamed in frustration, while outwardly her relaxed face seemed serene.
Several minutes later, the orderlies reached one of the preparation chambers. With a hint of tension they realised "that woman" was already present, apparently waiting for their new guest. Moving as quickly as possible, eager not to linger any longer than necessary, they lay Alyson on a moulded couch. The orderlies then made their hurried exit, leaving the prisoner to the strange woman.
Bianca watched as the orderlies deposited their burden. She hadn’t expected to meet this particular contestant so soon. The green body stocking indicated slightly better odds than the usual blue. But then the odds were calculated on the assumption that they would play by the rules. Stupid girl, with no one to blame but herself.
Slowly, eking out every ounce of drama that she could, she began to peel Alyson out of her clothing. Underneath, she was all soft curves, despite her outwardly hard demeanour. Bianca knew that her captive was aware of every touch, every caress. She smiled happily down into the seemingly calm face and fixed her with those magnetic green eyes. Softly she began to talk, letting her words seep quietly into Alyson’s mind.
"You were very naughty breaking the rules like that", she admonished, "But don’t worry, I’m here to teach you how to be a very good girl".
She began to massage her captive then, her hands lingering as they traced languid circles over the soft, warm skin. Bianca could sense that Alyson was beginning to feel what her touch was capable of. She knew that the other woman would love her to go faster, to push ahead, but she was in no hurry. Taking her time and enjoying the feel of each stroke, she wanted to cover every inch of the captive’s body.
"And all you have to do, is to just lie back while I melt you into complete pleasure", she whispered, "Drugged as you are, you can’t really do anything else, can you, pretty slave?"
Bianca reached up and smoothed Alyson’s auburn hair away from her ears. Her hand just grazed the side of her neck, but the woman’s pupils instantly dilated and a flush rose in her cheeks. The woman smiled, recognising that response. Slowly she bent down and stroked her finger down the side of Alyson’s throat.
Alyson wanted to gasp, to cry out, to do anything. This woman’s touch felt so wonderful that even in the circumstances, she could not help but want more. Her neck had always been sensitive, but she had never felt like this before. Even the most casual contact could almost make her cum. She knew that they wanted to break her, to enslave her, but for just this moment she was happy to simple be touched.
Once more Bianca fixed Alyson with her gaze.
"Every time I stroke that deliciously sensitive neck of yours, you can feel your mind melting, can’t you?"
Alyson wasn’t sure that she liked the sound of that. But the next instant, as the nail bit into her skin and drew a line of fire from her chin to her collarbone, her protests seemed to fade and retreat.
"Usually I like my good girls all tied up and helpless before we start", Bianca told her, conspiratorially, "But I think this chemical bondage is almost as good. Anyway, there will be plenty of time for ropes and chains later, wont there? When you are all nice and melted".
She couldn’t respond, couldn’t tell the strange woman to go to hell. But, part of her wondered if she really would anyway. It felt so good right now and each touch seemed to push everything else further and further into the background. Did she really want it to stop? Or did she want this to continue forever?
"I bet that your mind is almost nothing but a happy, melted puddle by now", Bianca suggested.
It was hard to argue; in fact by now it was hard to do almost anything. Everything seemed so unfocussed. The only constant was the woman’s touch, the fingers that stroked, somehow both calming and arousing at the same time. This was what they wanted she knew, but for the life of her she could not remember who they were or why they wanted it.
"And I have a special mould to pour you melted mind back into. A good girl mould, just for you. To shape your thoughts into those of a perfect good girl. Just like you wanted".
It seemed strange; to hear those words spoken aloud. But despite the initial uncertainty, Alyson found herself grasping for the meaning, desperate for anything to which she might be able to cling. It became the only other landmark in the swirling maelstrom that her thoughts had become.
"You cheated before", Bianca told her without malice, "You didn’t do as you were told. You didn’t obey. That is why you lost and I know that you never want to lose again, do you little puddle?"
Here she felt that she was suddenly on stronger ground. She felt none of that lack of certainty which had been there before. She didn’t want to lose again, not ever. Losing had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
"But that is okay", she continued happily, "You now know what you did wrong. I know that a clever girl like you will never make the same mistake again".
Alyson did know what she had done wrong, the soft voice had reminder her only moments before. She had lost because she had not done what she was told, because she hadn’t obeyed. The logic was inescapable, it she didn’t want to lose again, she would have to obey.
"You are such a Good Girl", Bianca smiled down at her, "But I can see that I am tiring you. You don’t need to worry about anything now, don’t even need to think. Just lie there, listening, accepting and believing. Just like a good girl".
Bianca reluctantly stopped stroking the captive woman’s neck. Moving quickly, anxious not to lose the momentum they had already built, she knelt, resting one of her small hands on each of Alyson’s thighs. Gently she eased them apart, and began to kiss her softly. Cupping her hands behind each buttock, she pulled Alyson onto her face. She sucked and kissed her spread lips, allowing her tongue to probe deeply inside and tasting the salty-sweet juice.
As she transferred her attention to Alyson’s already swollen clitoris, the woman flinched hard and began to moan. Bianca ignored the fact that her captive was recovering from the toxin and instead forced her tongue to trace its complex patterns, harder and harder, until the groans took on a different timbre. The sounds were rhythmic, in time with each thrust of her tongue and intensely pleasurable for them both.
For several minutes she flicked with the tip of her tongue, working on the sensitive flesh until her captive began to jerk and spasm more fiercely. Lightning radiated into her mind sending sparks, which cascaded from Alyson’s belly to her groin. For an indeterminable time she was cloaked in an all-over burning caress, riding the tide that threatened at any minute to engulf her completely. Pleasure dashed away the last of her thoughts, leaving her dazed and almost unconscious. She felt herself being lifted up and carried, but it was as if in a dream.
Bianca watched as the orderlies carried her latest victim away for conditioning. The woman had shown remarkable fortitude, to throw off the effects of the paralytic so rapidly. It was fortunate that she had already been too far gone to take advantage of that fact, but the mysterious woman made a mental note that she would ensure that the next contestant would be physically restrained before she began to work on them.