Re: Re: A Pursuit Denied 26
anonymous
February 18 2014, 07:15:02 UTC
“Quite. Our artists and engineers have tuned every aspect of this resort to maximize comfort and pleasure for our clientele.” Nassana glanced meaningfully at one of Diana’s news drones, clearly addressing an audience beyond the one present in the room. Club Azure already had a nearly full membership roster, but she planned to auction off the last few seats and a bit of tasteful advertising here and there couldn’t hurt.
“Not including your slaves, of course,” clarified Diana.
“Of course. But now I suppose you want a demonstration.” With a flourish, Nassana activated a program on her iridescent Omni-tool. The spotlights aimed at the restrained women subtly shifted color from bright white to a yellow/orange hue. The prisoners resumed squirming in their bonds, clearly upset by what had just happened.
“Our spotlights include secondary elements that emit infrared light,” Nassana explained, “which will give our pets a lovely sheen.”
“Very nice! But they already look delicious as-is. When do we start?” Diana pouted.
“Oh, it’s not just for looks,” she replied enigmatically, “but you’re right. We really ought to get started.” With that, she snatched a black tassled objet off the top of the nearby wooden dresser and stalked towards Miranda. When she was an arm’s length away, she let loose with the flogger.
*Crack* went the leather strands as they impacted Miranda’s left tit, giving it an enticing bounce. Miranda let out a muffled cry of indignation and glared impotently at her tormentor. Nassana responded with a toothy smile and another swing of the flogger.
*Crack* went the leather, this time against Miranda’s right tit. She barely had time to protest before Nassana continued the barrage, building her sadistic rhythm until Miranda squirmed in a desperate, futile effort to avoid the blows. *Crack* *Crack* *Crack* went the flogger, finding its mark on every swing. Her gyrating hips and twisting torso did more to excite her captors than they did to deter Nassana - if she had known half how arousing they found her sweaty, struggling body she would have frozen in place no matter the cost.
When the flogging finally let up, Miranda made the mistake of relaxing. The Asari’s hands brushed over her breasts with deceiving gentleness before closing tightly and mercilessly squeezing them, kneading her flesh well past the point of pain. Caught off guard, she squealed in surprise. A stream of spit wound past her gag and down her chin.
“Can you believe the tits on this one?” she casually asked Diana, giving one of them a slap, as if to demonstrate.
“They’re fantastic. Probably cost a fortune,” Diana taunted.
Re: A Pursuit Denied 27
anonymous
February 18 2014, 07:15:51 UTC
“And now they belong to us!” Nassana gloated. She hooked her fingers in the rings that had been “installed” not five minutes before, and pulled. Miranda arched her back as far as she could, but Nassana kept pulling. Stinging pain erupted from the damaged flesh, and she bit down hard on the red rubber ball wedged between her jaws, tears streaming down her cheeks. Seconds stretched into what felt like aeons by the time Nassana let go.
“As much fun as this is, I suppose we’d better check… oh…” Nassana whistled under her breath as she flipped Miranda’s frame to face the wall, inadvertently catching one of Diana’s drones in the process. It buzzed as its Mass Effect generators worked overtime to right itself. It only took a moment for it to refocus the picture and eliminate any questions Diana’s viewers might have had regarding what had prompted the whistle.
The suspension frame did wonders to show off Miranda’s already wondrous body. The tension in her arms threw the musculature of her back into relief against her porcelain skin. The slightest hint of muscle rippled beneath her smooth thighs as they struggled to support her weight despite being spread wide apart by the ankle fetters, betraying her athletic nature. But the thing that held everyone’s attention was nestled in between the two. What the frame did for her back and thighs it did tenfold for her ass. The perfect curvature of her cheeks was stunning even at the worst of times, but the way her angled thighs spread them apart framed the bulge of her mound and drew back the shadows just far enough to reveal the slightest hint of her puckered entrance.
Nassana reached forward to spread Miranda’s cheeks with her thumbs, humming in delight. She repositioned her left hand so that it performed the same task, freeing her right so that she could run her thumb down Miranda’s crack, pausing over her anus to tease the entrance by rubbing in gentle circles. Miranda hung her head in shame at the growing warmth drawn forth by her captor’s touches. After a few seconds, Nassana’s thumb continued its journey, sliding between Miranda’s folds. A whimper escaped her throat as the warm roughness of the asari’s finger ran across her slit, drawing her lips apart before allowing them to clink back together as the rings in her labia came back into contact with one another. Her hand cupped Miranda’s mound, giving it a possessive squeeze before running her thumb back up her crack to absentmindedly circle her rosebud once more. With her other palm, she gently caressed Miranda’s thigh.
“I know what we’re going to do with you.” Miranda shivered at the undercurrent of sadistic delight in Nassana’s voice. Whatever thought had just popped into the asari’s head couldn’t involve anything good for her. She felt the asari step back, but couldn’t determine what she was doing from sound alone. She stared at the wall in front of her and waited, doing her level best to ignore the humming news drone that was taking advantage of Nassana’s absence to film a closeup of her back.
Re: A Pursuit Denied 28
anonymous
February 18 2014, 07:16:33 UTC
Without warning, Miranda’s magnetic fetters detached. She crashed down hard on her knees, barely managing to catch herself before slamming into the wall, scraping her forehead on the rough sandstone. She span around, prepared to throttle both of her tormentors. The implant in the back of her neck gave her a stinging shock as it suppressed her unintentional biotic flare, but she was more than prepared to take these two bare-handed. She hesitated. A voice in the back of her head shouted that there must have been a reason why she hadn’t been planning a way out.
Nassana smirked at her, unconcerned. Fury swelled in Miranda’s heaving chest as it all came back to her. She bared her teeth as best she was able with a gag shoved in her mouth.
“That’s right, pet. You have nowhere to run,” Nassana mocked her all-too-obvious momentary lapse in memory.
“Even if you did manage to kill us and escape the compound, the police would drag you right back. Part of me wants you to try. I do so enjoy … educating … runaways.” A fire burned in her eyes, sending a chill down Miranda’s spine.
“On your knees,” she commanded, gently, as if daring Miranda to test her. Miranda paused for a second before her rational mind overrode her sense of dignity. Trembling, she lowered her left knee. Then her right. Her knees still throbbed from the fall, but she was sure the throbbing was preferable to the wrath of the monster in front of her.
“Now down on all fours. Like a varren.” Miranda lowered herself, trying not to think of the symbolism.
“What an obedient little bitch you are!” Nassana taunted, using a silly voice like one might use with a favorite pet in the absence of human company. She sauntered to Miranda’s side before firmly planting one of her high-heeled boots on the prone human’s back. Miranda didn’t budge.
Slowly, the sadistic asari shifted her weight to her heel, pressing the spike of her boot painfully into Miranda’s back. Miranda didn’t budge. She bit down hard on her gag and tried to suppress her revulsion at the squelching sound it made. She waited. And waited. The pain was really starting to get to her. She realized that she had been holding her breath - any motion would bring her pain. She only lasted a few more seconds before her instincts won and she coughed before drawing it fresh air. Even the subtle stretch her diaphragm put in her skin stung enough to water her eyes.
“Hmm, can’t hold your breath for very long. We should work on that.” Miranda tried not to dwell on the meaning behind her words. With the pain from her back receding into the background, she became hyperaware of her mistress’s steps as she circled behind her. The footsteps stopped, and the toe of her boot connected forcefully with her inner thigh.
“Spread your legs!” Nassana commanded, now in a harsh barking tone. Miranda quickly complied, not wanting to provoke the sadist. She felt the spiked heel make contact with her back again, this time gently, immediately above her pelvis. For all she hated about this woman, Miranda had to admit that her balance must have been impeccable. She trembled as the point of contact slowly traced down her spine. She whimpered as the heel slowed, its target obvious. Sure enough, it came to rest over her rosebud.
Re: A Pursuit Denied 29
anonymous
February 18 2014, 07:17:32 UTC
“Now push yourself onto me,” the asari ordered, once again using her facetiously gentle voice. “Don’t think,” Miranda’s inner dialogue warned, “just do.” With a slight wiggle, she adjusted her hips until the tip made its way in. Then she pushed forward with her hands, slowly applying a steady pressure that she was all to familiar with. Centimeter by centimeter, the heel sunk deeper, until it caught. Without a word from Nassana, she pressed her torso to the ground in order to better accommodate the angle, and the heel began to slide forward once again. She blushed as she couldn’t help but notice a burst of wetness in her nether regions, as if the news drone hovering in front of her face could somehow tell how much her body loved the feeling of having her sphincter slowly stretched. The only thing in the world she enjoyed more was…
Miranda’s arousal flared as Nassana rapidly withdrew her boot. The almost imperceptible intrusion of chilly air into her gaping anus nearly sent her over the edge. Her moment of bliss ended sharply when she felt a cold wetness press against her recently vacated passage. This time, Nassana didn’t give Miranda the privilege of setting the pace. The intrusion thrust forward, spreading her far wider than she was prepared for. At least she had lube this time, she thought to herself, grimacing against the sharp protests of her distended sphincter. With one final shove, the plug found its way home. She shivered as her ass closed over the last inch of its chilly surface.
Once again, heels clicked against tile as Nassana continued her trip around her new slave. Not daring to raise her head, Miranda kept her eyes focused on Nassana’s boots as they came to a stop in front of her. She heard, rather than saw, Nassana bend over, and once again couldn’t help but be impressed by the asari’s ability to make balancing in heels seem effortless.
Hands closed over the strap holding her gag in, unhooking the buckle at the back of her neck. Miranda’s stomach churned as the sopping rubber ball was pried from her aching mouth, threatening to expel whatever fluids remained after the slave processing center. She sighed in relief as the gag disappeared, taking the queasy feeling with it.
Experience told her to resist the temptation to close her jaw, but her instincts betrayed her when Nassana took a handful of raven hair and forced her head backwards. Blue hands drew the gag across her face, wiping it off on her still-dry cheeks and forehead. She wrinkled her nose at the abuse, unable to twist away. Satisfied, Nassana tossed the gag off to the side and stood up.
“And now my favorite part, cleaning duty,” Nassana announced, lifting one of her boots. Miranda fought the temptation to thrust forward and catch her off balance, even as the queasiness returned. Jaw pain forgotten, she gulped, and looked up in horror at her captor, immediately regretting her decision. She hadn’t expected sympathy, but the superior smirk at the corner of Nassana’s blue lips made it all that much worse.
“Now,” Nassana commanded, simply. Miranda opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and leaned forward. Her tongue was the first skin to make contact with the heel’s smooth polymer surface. She carefully guided herself forward, holding her breath as she tried to guide the shaft into her mouth without touching the sides. The heel tip slid backwards along her tongue, until it met the small of her throat.
“Wonderful. I thought the tests were lying, but I guess you really don’t have a gag reflex.”
Miranda wouldn’t have called it wonderful.
“I still expect you to suck,” Nassana warned, thrusting forward slightly with her heel in an implicit threat. Miranda closed her mouth over the soiled shaft. She obediently hollowed her cheeks, hoping to be done as soon as possible.
Re: A Pursuit Denied 30
anonymous
February 18 2014, 07:18:36 UTC
“And use your tongue! Dammit, slut, do I have to teach you everything?” Nassana spat, punitively forcing her heel forward, twisting the boot’s toe to the side to force more of its length down Miranda’s throat.. Between the thought of the act she was performing and the heel intruding in her throat, she heaved. But she also began to lick. A metallic taste permeated her mouth. She wondered if it was her own or if she was merely tasting the footwear. In either case, she made sure to breathe through her mouth. From lengthy extranet discussions, she knew the smell was supposed to be the worst part. With a wet ‘pop,’ the stiletto finally withdrew from her face.
“Good. Now put these on,” Nassana barked, tossing a pair of shiny rubber shoes at Miranda. They hit her in the side of her head before tumbling into her field of view. It took her a moment to recognize the design - they had a more oblong shape than most shoes or boots, with a bulky cylindrical heel. *Hoof*, she corrected herself. One of the stranger pornos in her collection jumped to mind. She knew where this was headed. At least this meant she wasn’t
“I *am* keeping track, you know. Every time you hesitate, you pay.” Miranda’s eyes unintentionally snapped in the asari’s direction as she spoke, only to find The Smirk. Miranda looked away, swearing under her breath. She drew herself into a crouching position and retrieved a boot. She had no trouble inserting her foot, even past the heel, but she couldn’t find the ends of the laces that Nassana no doubt expected her to fasten. The hoof-boot was almost comically loose.
Miranda yelped as the boot constricted around her foot and calf entirely of its own accord. She glanced up at Nassana in shock but quickly diverted her gaze before she could read her expression again. No doubt she was enjoying Miranda’s attempts to balance on the newly tightened boot immensely.
Miranda quickly grabbed the other shiny piece of shaped rubber as she teetered on the ball of her extended foot. The hoof-boot had no heel, forcing her to employ her ballet training to remain steady on the unnaturally narrow base. Without giving herself time to tip over, she slammed her other foot into the open boot and stumbled to her feet (toes, rather).
“Well at least you can balance. Here, put this on.” Nassana tossed her an assemblage of straps that she had been holding. Miranda caught the straps but stumbled backwards, momentarily forgetting about the lack of heel support. She managed to catch her fall with a deft backwards-step and, with a second carefully placed step, straighten herself. She looked down at the straps. She shouldn’t have been surprised.
Re: A Pursuit Denied 31
anonymous
February 18 2014, 07:28:38 UTC
With a sigh, she opened her mouth and wedged the bit between her teeth. As she drew the straps around her head, she caught a whiff of the smell she had been dreading, a reminder of the perverse debasement Nassana had forced on her. And to think - the same businesswoman who had forced her to clean her own ass residue from a shoe now had her dressed like a damn pony fetishist. It was too much. Her hands dropped to her side.
Miranda withdrew into herself as Nassana took over where she had left off, tightening the straps to the point of discomfort and drawing the bit as far into her mouth as lips would allow. The Smirk was saying something to her. Taunting her, perhaps. Or explaining what was about to happen. Absentmindedly, she let Nassana slip gloves over her hands. Hoofs, like on her boots. A pretty orange beam materialized in front of her. She admired the luminescent edges of the holographic force field, even as the asari hooked her fingers into Miranda’s still-sore nipple rings, drawing them forward and up until they hooked into virtual slots in the force field. It buzzed and crackled as the metal came into contact, sending painful jolts arcing down her breasts as the metal was drawn into its Mass Effect field. The shocks broke her out of her stupor. What the hell was happening? Her mind raced. If the asari had given an explanation, she had already missed it.
All became clear when Nassana finished entering something on her omni-tool and the orange bar began to creep forward. A new kind of pain shot through her breasts, this time mechanical. She stumbled forward in a hurried attempt to relieve the pressure, barely catching herself by throwing her wrists across the holographic bar. She tried to find a more secure purchase for her hands, but the hoof-gloves prevented it. She huffed in frustration as the bar’s movement forced her to take another step, disgusted by the lingering smell on her breath. Disgusted at the costume she war. Disgusted at what she had become.
Re: nRe: A Pursuit Denied 31
anonymous
March 3 2014, 22:20:28 UTC
Yeah, sorry about that. I have a homework assignment that's really getting out of control. On one hand, it's nice to have professors that don't care about due dates. On the other, it gives them license to give evil psets. Blame Sergi Sobolev, I'm pretty sure these are his problems.
“Not including your slaves, of course,” clarified Diana.
“Of course. But now I suppose you want a demonstration.” With a flourish, Nassana activated a program on her iridescent Omni-tool. The spotlights aimed at the restrained women subtly shifted color from bright white to a yellow/orange hue. The prisoners resumed squirming in their bonds, clearly upset by what had just happened.
“Our spotlights include secondary elements that emit infrared light,” Nassana explained, “which will give our pets a lovely sheen.”
“Very nice! But they already look delicious as-is. When do we start?” Diana pouted.
“Oh, it’s not just for looks,” she replied enigmatically, “but you’re right. We really ought to get started.” With that, she snatched a black tassled objet off the top of the nearby wooden dresser and stalked towards Miranda. When she was an arm’s length away, she let loose with the flogger.
*Crack* went the leather strands as they impacted Miranda’s left tit, giving it an enticing bounce. Miranda let out a muffled cry of indignation and glared impotently at her tormentor. Nassana responded with a toothy smile and another swing of the flogger.
*Crack* went the leather, this time against Miranda’s right tit. She barely had time to protest before Nassana continued the barrage, building her sadistic rhythm until Miranda squirmed in a desperate, futile effort to avoid the blows. *Crack* *Crack* *Crack* went the flogger, finding its mark on every swing. Her gyrating hips and twisting torso did more to excite her captors than they did to deter Nassana - if she had known half how arousing they found her sweaty, struggling body she would have frozen in place no matter the cost.
When the flogging finally let up, Miranda made the mistake of relaxing. The Asari’s hands brushed over her breasts with deceiving gentleness before closing tightly and mercilessly squeezing them, kneading her flesh well past the point of pain. Caught off guard, she squealed in surprise. A stream of spit wound past her gag and down her chin.
“Can you believe the tits on this one?” she casually asked Diana, giving one of them a slap, as if to demonstrate.
“They’re fantastic. Probably cost a fortune,” Diana taunted.
Reply
“As much fun as this is, I suppose we’d better check… oh…” Nassana whistled under her breath as she flipped Miranda’s frame to face the wall, inadvertently catching one of Diana’s drones in the process. It buzzed as its Mass Effect generators worked overtime to right itself. It only took a moment for it to refocus the picture and eliminate any questions Diana’s viewers might have had regarding what had prompted the whistle.
The suspension frame did wonders to show off Miranda’s already wondrous body. The tension in her arms threw the musculature of her back into relief against her porcelain skin. The slightest hint of muscle rippled beneath her smooth thighs as they struggled to support her weight despite being spread wide apart by the ankle fetters, betraying her athletic nature. But the thing that held everyone’s attention was nestled in between the two. What the frame did for her back and thighs it did tenfold for her ass. The perfect curvature of her cheeks was stunning even at the worst of times, but the way her angled thighs spread them apart framed the bulge of her mound and drew back the shadows just far enough to reveal the slightest hint of her puckered entrance.
Nassana reached forward to spread Miranda’s cheeks with her thumbs, humming in delight. She repositioned her left hand so that it performed the same task, freeing her right so that she could run her thumb down Miranda’s crack, pausing over her anus to tease the entrance by rubbing in gentle circles. Miranda hung her head in shame at the growing warmth drawn forth by her captor’s touches. After a few seconds, Nassana’s thumb continued its journey, sliding between Miranda’s folds. A whimper escaped her throat as the warm roughness of the asari’s finger ran across her slit, drawing her lips apart before allowing them to clink back together as the rings in her labia came back into contact with one another. Her hand cupped Miranda’s mound, giving it a possessive squeeze before running her thumb back up her crack to absentmindedly circle her rosebud once more. With her other palm, she gently caressed Miranda’s thigh.
“I know what we’re going to do with you.” Miranda shivered at the undercurrent of sadistic delight in Nassana’s voice. Whatever thought had just popped into the asari’s head couldn’t involve anything good for her. She felt the asari step back, but couldn’t determine what she was doing from sound alone. She stared at the wall in front of her and waited, doing her level best to ignore the humming news drone that was taking advantage of Nassana’s absence to film a closeup of her back.
Reply
Nassana smirked at her, unconcerned. Fury swelled in Miranda’s heaving chest as it all came back to her. She bared her teeth as best she was able with a gag shoved in her mouth.
“That’s right, pet. You have nowhere to run,” Nassana mocked her all-too-obvious momentary lapse in memory.
“Even if you did manage to kill us and escape the compound, the police would drag you right back. Part of me wants you to try. I do so enjoy … educating … runaways.” A fire burned in her eyes, sending a chill down Miranda’s spine.
“On your knees,” she commanded, gently, as if daring Miranda to test her. Miranda paused for a second before her rational mind overrode her sense of dignity. Trembling, she lowered her left knee. Then her right. Her knees still throbbed from the fall, but she was sure the throbbing was preferable to the wrath of the monster in front of her.
“Now down on all fours. Like a varren.” Miranda lowered herself, trying not to think of the symbolism.
“What an obedient little bitch you are!” Nassana taunted, using a silly voice like one might use with a favorite pet in the absence of human company. She sauntered to Miranda’s side before firmly planting one of her high-heeled boots on the prone human’s back. Miranda didn’t budge.
Slowly, the sadistic asari shifted her weight to her heel, pressing the spike of her boot painfully into Miranda’s back. Miranda didn’t budge. She bit down hard on her gag and tried to suppress her revulsion at the squelching sound it made. She waited. And waited. The pain was really starting to get to her. She realized that she had been holding her breath - any motion would bring her pain. She only lasted a few more seconds before her instincts won and she coughed before drawing it fresh air. Even the subtle stretch her diaphragm put in her skin stung enough to water her eyes.
“Hmm, can’t hold your breath for very long. We should work on that.” Miranda tried not to dwell on the meaning behind her words. With the pain from her back receding into the background, she became hyperaware of her mistress’s steps as she circled behind her. The footsteps stopped, and the toe of her boot connected forcefully with her inner thigh.
“Spread your legs!” Nassana commanded, now in a harsh barking tone. Miranda quickly complied, not wanting to provoke the sadist. She felt the spiked heel make contact with her back again, this time gently, immediately above her pelvis. For all she hated about this woman, Miranda had to admit that her balance must have been impeccable. She trembled as the point of contact slowly traced down her spine. She whimpered as the heel slowed, its target obvious. Sure enough, it came to rest over her rosebud.
Reply
Miranda’s arousal flared as Nassana rapidly withdrew her boot. The almost imperceptible intrusion of chilly air into her gaping anus nearly sent her over the edge. Her moment of bliss ended sharply when she felt a cold wetness press against her recently vacated passage. This time, Nassana didn’t give Miranda the privilege of setting the pace. The intrusion thrust forward, spreading her far wider than she was prepared for. At least she had lube this time, she thought to herself, grimacing against the sharp protests of her distended sphincter. With one final shove, the plug found its way home. She shivered as her ass closed over the last inch of its chilly surface.
Once again, heels clicked against tile as Nassana continued her trip around her new slave. Not daring to raise her head, Miranda kept her eyes focused on Nassana’s boots as they came to a stop in front of her. She heard, rather than saw, Nassana bend over, and once again couldn’t help but be impressed by the asari’s ability to make balancing in heels seem effortless.
Hands closed over the strap holding her gag in, unhooking the buckle at the back of her neck. Miranda’s stomach churned as the sopping rubber ball was pried from her aching mouth, threatening to expel whatever fluids remained after the slave processing center. She sighed in relief as the gag disappeared, taking the queasy feeling with it.
Experience told her to resist the temptation to close her jaw, but her instincts betrayed her when Nassana took a handful of raven hair and forced her head backwards. Blue hands drew the gag across her face, wiping it off on her still-dry cheeks and forehead. She wrinkled her nose at the abuse, unable to twist away. Satisfied, Nassana tossed the gag off to the side and stood up.
“And now my favorite part, cleaning duty,” Nassana announced, lifting one of her boots. Miranda fought the temptation to thrust forward and catch her off balance, even as the queasiness returned. Jaw pain forgotten, she gulped, and looked up in horror at her captor, immediately regretting her decision. She hadn’t expected sympathy, but the superior smirk at the corner of Nassana’s blue lips made it all that much worse.
“Now,” Nassana commanded, simply. Miranda opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and leaned forward. Her tongue was the first skin to make contact with the heel’s smooth polymer surface. She carefully guided herself forward, holding her breath as she tried to guide the shaft into her mouth without touching the sides. The heel tip slid backwards along her tongue, until it met the small of her throat.
“Wonderful. I thought the tests were lying, but I guess you really don’t have a gag reflex.”
Miranda wouldn’t have called it wonderful.
“I still expect you to suck,” Nassana warned, thrusting forward slightly with her heel in an implicit threat. Miranda closed her mouth over the soiled shaft. She obediently hollowed her cheeks, hoping to be done as soon as possible.
Reply
“Good. Now put these on,” Nassana barked, tossing a pair of shiny rubber shoes at Miranda. They hit her in the side of her head before tumbling into her field of view. It took her a moment to recognize the design - they had a more oblong shape than most shoes or boots, with a bulky cylindrical heel. *Hoof*, she corrected herself. One of the stranger pornos in her collection jumped to mind. She knew where this was headed. At least this meant she wasn’t
“I *am* keeping track, you know. Every time you hesitate, you pay.” Miranda’s eyes unintentionally snapped in the asari’s direction as she spoke, only to find The Smirk. Miranda looked away, swearing under her breath. She drew herself into a crouching position and retrieved a boot. She had no trouble inserting her foot, even past the heel, but she couldn’t find the ends of the laces that Nassana no doubt expected her to fasten. The hoof-boot was almost comically loose.
Miranda yelped as the boot constricted around her foot and calf entirely of its own accord. She glanced up at Nassana in shock but quickly diverted her gaze before she could read her expression again. No doubt she was enjoying Miranda’s attempts to balance on the newly tightened boot immensely.
Miranda quickly grabbed the other shiny piece of shaped rubber as she teetered on the ball of her extended foot. The hoof-boot had no heel, forcing her to employ her ballet training to remain steady on the unnaturally narrow base. Without giving herself time to tip over, she slammed her other foot into the open boot and stumbled to her feet (toes, rather).
“Well at least you can balance. Here, put this on.” Nassana tossed her an assemblage of straps that she had been holding. Miranda caught the straps but stumbled backwards, momentarily forgetting about the lack of heel support. She managed to catch her fall with a deft backwards-step and, with a second carefully placed step, straighten herself. She looked down at the straps. She shouldn’t have been surprised.
Reply
Miranda withdrew into herself as Nassana took over where she had left off, tightening the straps to the point of discomfort and drawing the bit as far into her mouth as lips would allow. The Smirk was saying something to her. Taunting her, perhaps. Or explaining what was about to happen. Absentmindedly, she let Nassana slip gloves over her hands. Hoofs, like on her boots. A pretty orange beam materialized in front of her. She admired the luminescent edges of the holographic force field, even as the asari hooked her fingers into Miranda’s still-sore nipple rings, drawing them forward and up until they hooked into virtual slots in the force field. It buzzed and crackled as the metal came into contact, sending painful jolts arcing down her breasts as the metal was drawn into its Mass Effect field. The shocks broke her out of her stupor. What the hell was happening? Her mind raced. If the asari had given an explanation, she had already missed it.
All became clear when Nassana finished entering something on her omni-tool and the orange bar began to creep forward. A new kind of pain shot through her breasts, this time mechanical. She stumbled forward in a hurried attempt to relieve the pressure, barely catching herself by throwing her wrists across the holographic bar. She tried to find a more secure purchase for her hands, but the hoof-gloves prevented it. She huffed in frustration as the bar’s movement forced her to take another step, disgusted by the lingering smell on her breath. Disgusted at the costume she war. Disgusted at what she had become.
Reply
A creative and absolutely evil way to use Miranda, I like it! :D
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
I'll aim for Thursday.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment