Esther III
- 2 years ago
- 117
- 0
Band On The Run: Part III free porn video
Band on the Run
Part III:
Why we hate Nano-bliminals!
by [email protected]
I awoke, head on fire, temples throbbing, wondering where I'd ended up,
wondering how much I'd drank and why I kept doing this to myself. I was
surprised to find the bed empty. I was used to finding one or two tarts
passed out beside me, clothes torn, bite marks on their fleshy bits
coincidentally identical to my dental records, and I was more than a
little disappointed.
It wasn't my breasts that reminded me of what had happened, but my smell.
I was rank and it was girl rank rather than guy rank.
It came back to me then, all of it.
I was in a glass prison cell, or something that passed for glass.
In the next chamber I saw a blonde that I assumed was Jess, and beyond
that I could just make out a redhead. So we'd been caught. The jailors of
Inser had broken about a hundred laws and international treaties to get
us here, but here we were.
I tapped on the glass, trying to get Jess's attention, but there was no
sound. I looked at my hand, strangely assuming I'd forgotten the skill of
tapping on glass, then realized it was utterly silent. I couldn't even
hear myself breathe.
It wasn't the torture you might think; after all, there were still deaf
people left in the Universe. I'd seen a docudrama on stream 44 once. If
they could stand it, so could I. But it was disorienting, which I
supposed was the point.
I was also naked, and for the first time that bothered me a little. I
felt vulnerable and I didn't like it, but that was also the point. It was
a gigantic psychological manipulation conducted by people who'd had lots
of practice.
Jess eventually awoke as did Sam, and we managed to communicate well
enough by reading each other's lips and gestures. Jess was stuck in the
middle and was constantly having to relay messages between Sam and I.
Long hours passed.
In my boredom I'd decided to nap, but a sharp violent alarm snapped me
out of it in an instant.
No sleep. Got it. I was learning the rules, and it didn't matter whether
I liked them or not.
Food appeared late in the day. I wasn't sure how late because other than
my biological clock, which told me it was way past my bedtime, I'd lost
all sense of time. The food was a type of porridge or sludge that I could
only guess was low in protein and sugar and probably woefully slight on
calories. Restrict people's diet, keep their energy low, keep their
brains deprived of glucose, and they'd become much more compliant. It was
brainwashing 101 and I was an unhappy participant.
The water had a funny taste and twenty minutes after I drank it, I found
my that my mind raced for several minutes and then crashed until I could
barely think at all. It had been designed to burn off and deplete the
fuel reserves of my brain. I was sluggish and sleepy and was just falling
into a kind of stupor when the lights went off.
I did not get any sleep, however, the jolting alarm made sure of it.
The door to the cell slid open and there was a brilliant golden light
beyond. In my state, bored, weak and stupid, I found it difficult to
resist investigating. I stumbled like a moth down a dark hall to a small
lit room. The door closed behind me, and while a part of me panicked,
most of me was curious about the small helmet on the floor. I knew what I
was supposed to do, but didn't want to do it.
There was a tube snaking out from the faceplate that penetrated the wall.
I wasn't sure what it was for; I assumed oxygen, since there were no
holes for ears, eyes, mouth or nose. I didn't want to put it on, and I
knew I didn't have to, but I also knew I wouldn't be allowed to sleep or
eat again until I did.
It only took a few hours for me to finally succumb.
I was scared out of my mind. What were they going to do to me? What was
going to happen? I just didn't want it to hurt. I pleaded with them,
whoever they were, and I hadn't seen anyone, but I pleaded nevertheless
to be let go or at least not to suffer.
There was no response.
Trembling I gathered my hair into a ponytail and slipped the helmet on my
head.
It compressed against my skull right away, cutting off my oxygen. I lost
my hold on it, lost my balance and fell, scrambled to my knees, and
desperately tried to get my fingers beneath it to get it off, but it was
too late. It had me.
Oxygen rushed into my nose and mouth and I relaxed.
Then I understood.
I cursed myself for not having realized it before. Perhaps I didn't want
to know. Perhaps I was too damn frightened. Perhaps it was my sluggish
mind.
They were called nano-bliminals and they flooded into the helmet making a
quick high-pitched backwards sounding chirp.
Having been an aspiring geneticist once, I remembered a little about
them. They did what nanos do; reconfigured cells. Only these had been
especially designed to penetrate the blood-brain barrier and to work on
neural networks. They mimicked glucose molecules at first, so my starving
brain happily gobbled them up.
The mask relaxed and I slipped it off. The whole process couldn't have
taken more than ten seconds, but now I was infected and I had no idea
what they were going to do to me.
I was allowed to return to my cell, but my head was throbbing. It ached
and it pulsed and it burned.
I burst out laughing.
I burst into tears.
I smelled vanilla.
I remembered my grandmother standing over me in her kitchen and wiping
the smeared chocolate off my face.
I felt like rocking out and being violent and fucking someone.
I felt pins-and-needles crawl up my arms and wash over my shoulders,
tickling my nipples and crawling down like insect feet until my vagina
broke out in a terrible burning itch.
I blinked my eyes and realized I'd been staring off into the distance for
awhile. I wasn't sure how long.
I glanced over into the next cell and saw Jess fast asleep on her bed.
We can sleep!
It was a miracle.
I laid my head back, sank into the gel and gratefully closed my eyes.
I can't begin to describe all the wicked dreams I had, some horrible,
some exciting, some arousing, some just plain weird.
* * *
I began to get a sense of what was happening to me, and I didn't like it.
The nanos were typical nanos. The glass cage provided the subliminals.
Now everyone knew that subliminals were the most failed advertising
technique in history. They didn't work. They didn't influence people to
do or buy anything. But they were also the most underrated technique in
history. They could influence to people to think about buying something,
not a particular brand (brand devotion had its own set of rules). You
might not buy Gela Mayo, but you could be influenced to at least think
about mayo. You might decide you didn't need it, didn't like it, already
had some at home in the cupboard, but the thought would at least cross
your mind, whether you noticed it or not.
The subliminal images, sounds and aromas of the glass walls stimulated my
thoughts, and I was shocked at what they conjured.
Babies.
I found a supreme level of well being, pleasure and yes, even arousal at
just the thought of them. The nanos had only to wait for certain matrices
to appear in my neuro-synaptic pattern, then they could trigger whatever
emotional state and physical hormones they wanted.
By the end of the day I was thinking about being pregnant, and I wanted
it. I masturbated just thinking about Officer Harrison knocking me up.
The fantasy started and repeated and repeated, and I found I didn't
resist simply because it just felt so damn good!
He and I, together, clothes, then no clothes, then just flesh, his hard
hands on my soft hips, his hard blue eyes on my soft, dreamy eyes, his
rippling chest hovering above my soft breasts. "Are you sure?" he kept
whispering. I kept nodding, biting my lip, and nodding. He switched off
my birth control and I felt fresh air on my thighs. I moaned. His dick
stood tall and proud and hard and I wanted it inside me, deep inside,
pressing into me and fucking me. "Are you sure?" he whispered. I nodded,
biting my lip and crying and wrapping my legs up around his waist,
opening myself to him completely, letting him divide me.
I could feel his dick pressing on my lips as he lowered himself on top of
me, stealing my bottom lip from my teeth so he could stamp it with his
own teeth marks. He bit so hard, I winced with pain, but then he pushed
inside of me and I was awash in ecstasy. Fucking me was not enough; it
was all about the cumming. He had to cum. He had to fill me. He thrust
and teased. "Are you sure?" He rammed himself hard into me while I
squealed and moaned and whined and arched my back and panted and planted
my hands on his ass trying to force him deeper. "Are you sure?"
And then he filled me and I filled him. He came and I had a climax that
lit my brain up with fireworks.
Then I was standing before the mirror, naked, my breasts swelling, my
belly protruding just a little, just enough to be cute, and all I could
think was the word, "preggers" over and over. My nipples tingled with
desire.
Then he was with me again, clothes, then no clothes, then just flesh, his
hard hands on my hips, whispering, "Are you sure?"
I nodded, more fervently than before.
Knock me up.
It went on like that for days, from one fantasy to another.
Eventually, I'd have other days where all I could think was of being a
housewife, cleaning for him, making dinner for him, plopping down on his
lap as he tried to read the paper, letting my robe fall open, smelling of
perfume, enticing him to fuck me on the breakfast table, all the while
the nanos kept me in a state of constant pleasure.
I ate voraciously.
I started my own regiment of exercise. Somewhere in the back of my head,
I noticed, but didn't want to admit, I was keeping my body fit for him.
Keeping my belly trim, my tits perky, so I could slip into that yellow
sunflower dress with the spaghetti straps and no bra that I'd suddenly
identified in my imagination as the perfect Sunday keep-your-hubby-happy
design.
I knew what was happening, but I couldn't stop it. It felt too damn good.
* * *
We were allowed out of our little glass cages for the first time in what
I could only guess was weeks. We were even allowed to fraternize.
Our faces lit up when we saw each other in the big hall. There were hugs
and tears and giggles, but as hard as the nano tried to make it all feel
right and good and clean and pure, I still felt hollow.
I was getting dumb.
The nanos weren't taking away my intelligence, but they had shortened my
attention span considerably. After a few moments of reasoning, I'd
suddenly be blinking and coming out of a daze. I'd be staring off into
the distance and trying to remember what I'd just been thinking. A moment
later I'd feel incredibly silly and giggly and happy.
Apparently not having any thoughts was supposed to feel delightful.
We had a choice right away. The room had a plentiful buffet on one side,
and racks of clothing on the other.
As we were all still naked, we opted for clothing first, despite the fact
that we were starving. I couldn't tell if this was a test or not or if
the nanos were even responsible. They could be heavy handed sometimes,
but other times had proven to be notoriously subtle and malicious.
The first thing that hit my attention was this purple robe, and it was
sort of cute, but it was the wrong purple. It was too purply, but then I
decided on a white robe, but Jess said there was a purple robe, and I was
like, no, I saw it, wrong purple, but then she showed me another one that
was dark purple and it was really gorgeous so I tried it on and it was
big and fluffy and just wonderful. I hugged it to myself and went mmmm,
and that made the girls laugh, and I helped them find mmm robes of their
own. And I know, robes? Why robes? Well, we talked about it and it was
like, we'll get robes first, then eat, then come back and really do some
shopping.
And that's what we did. The food was delicious, and there was certainly
plenty of it, but after only a few bites I was full. I mean really full,
but it was still really good.
While we shopped off the racks, Sam and I tried to discuss our situation.
"I'm worried about Jess," she said and I knew what she was saying.
Jess was pretty far gone. She was flitting about with starry eyes and
giggling and stripping right there and trying on skirts and tops and
dresses. During lunch, we'd been talking, mostly about the food and the
clothing and how good it was just to be together again, when Jess had
steered the conversation to what it might be like to stay on this planet,
free from prison, of course. She recalled the outfit she'd worn trying to
escape, and how she missed her shoes, even though she wondered what she'd
been thinking wearing such a short skirt with a top like that, not that
she didn't like skirts, even short ones (she giggled like an idiot), just
that she wanted something nicer. It didn't take her long to veer off into
the quality of male attention she thought she could get, and how she
couldn't wait to grab a hunk and settle down.
Settle down meant, as we all knew, get married, get fucked and get
knocked up, not necessarily in that order.
"She's really gone, isn't she?" I told Sam
Sam nodded. "She was enjoying the whole girl thing anyway, but now...."
All the boy in Jess was really gone. Granted, she'd always been a little
effeminate as a boy. Granted, she'd been girlier as a girl than the rest
of us; it had started the second she'd acquired her new curvy body.
Granted, she'd been extra girly after her tryst at the club, but she had
still been Jess somehow. I couldn't remember exactly-it was difficult to
remember anything too long without my mind going vacant-but there were
things she said, ways she moved that reminded us of her old self, her boy
self, the old Jessie.
Now those remnants were completely gone. Her movements were delicate and
flighty. She flitted around like a butterfly with ballet training who was
auditioning for a cheerleader squad. Her conversation was all about boys,
clothes and dancing, and wouldn't this be fun, and wouldn't that be fun,
but there was nothing about our situation.
I gave Sam a grim look. "What does that say about us?"
He shook his head. Tears crawled down his cheeks. "Are we going to be
like that?"
The old Sam was there. Even if she did look delightful in her short robe,
which was short enough to give scant glimpses at her butt cheeks, even if
she was wiping tears away and sniffling and apologizing. Somehow, it was
still the good old look-at-me and-love-me Sam.
I hugged her and knew I was sniffling as well. "If that was going to
happen, I think it would've happened already."
She nodded and we hugged and she said thank you, and I started sensing
the old Sam recede once again.
She whispered in my ear, "Get us out of here."
I nodded and burst into tears and she tightened her hold on me.
Minutes later I felt like I was just waking up. I realized we'd been
giggling and sizing up clothing for ourselves and each other and had left
heaps of rumpled skirts and blouses on the floor and all our conversation
had been geared towards what kind of boy this outfit would attract and
wouldn't they love us in this and wait till they saw me tossing my hair
around in this little number.
I'd joined in full tilt. My memory was quite clear, even if I hadn't made
the decision to do so. I sighed, got a hold on my brain and continued
browsing through the clothes, even though I was already decked out in a
knee-length green plaid skirt with knee high socks, a beautiful silky
white blouse and a green plaid scarf. Jess flitted by and plopped a green
beret on my head and we both erupted into giggles.
But it only lasted a second before I was back to my melancholy self.
I hadn't been entirely truthful with Sam.
The nanos probably wouldn't take us any further than they already had. I
wasn't sure if they could, honestly. I mean, they might could, but could
they really? I couldn't concentrate long enough on my gene-school
training to remember. But that wasn't the critical part. The thing was,
the nanos had a short life span, which explained why we suddenly found it
highly arousing (wet in the panties arousing) to slip our pretty heads
back into those helmets and get another dose. The truth was that even
though brains constantly wired and rewired themselves, reprogramming
themselves like software, I wasn't sure we would be able to (or would
even want) to undo what the nanos had done.
Even when they were gone, the memory of the pleasure they gave us would
remain. Even the memory of such heightened pleasures might be powerful to
keep us girly and giggly. I suspected that eventually I'd get my ability
to focus and concentrate back, but I might end up using it all for
fashion and fucking and ... gulp ... motherhood.
We could be in real trouble here. We could be stuck in our current
condition for a very long time, but the cool thing was that Sam had found
some green pumps that so totally matched my skirt and they were really
comfortable, but I needed something on my legs, some hose or something,
because I was really totally digging this outfit.
Then a door opened at the end of the hall and we were all caught by
surprise.
A square shouldered figure meandered in and he was lovely. A dark navy
blue suit with silver buttons and silver cufflinks, polished Amahd shoes
(expensive!), a gorgeous red and black striped tie, tastefully
understated. His hair was slicked back, his eyes dark and flashing, and
he had all the appearance of a well to do playboy.
Like it or not, three she-wolves began to salivate.
Then the man grinned and his snaggletooth came into view and the three of
us were struck instantaneously dumb.
Snipe lowered his head, and cackled at us, and though we were loathe to
admit it, he was gorgeous!!
* * *
Snipe had never been a talker. Nothing had changed in that regard. He
grinned, eyeing us up and down appreciatively, and more than occasionally
let his hands appreciate us as well.
I'd by lying if I said we didn't enjoy it. After all, we were three girls
who had been left to our own girl devices for weeks, and here was the
opposite sex, tall and strong and smelling like a man with his delicious
cologne spiked with hair gel and just a touch of sweat.
Yum.
It took me several minutes to realize that while Sam and I were busy
competing for our old drummer's carnivorous attention, Jess was sitting
gloomily at the end of the table. I gave Sam the eye who noticed her and
we shared curious glances. Out of all of us, I assumed Jess would be the
first to knock Snipe down so she could have access to her favorite
missing part.
I wanted to see what was up with her, but then Sam asked Snipe if he was
hungry and volunteered me to serve him up a plate, for which I was pissed
though I couldn't let on. The conniving bitch had relegated me to being a
waitress, giving her all the time she needed to fawn and tease and get
our boy wrapped around her little finger. For the life of me, I couldn't
figure a way around her ploy, and worse, I couldn't be a bad sport. I
didn't want Snipe to think ill of me, though some dim part of my brain
still wanted to strangle the fucker.
Strangely enough, Snipe was a gentleman. He stood when I left the table
and pulled out my chair for me when I returned. He didn't say much, but
the rigid way he held himself let us know that they'd been weaving their
magic nano spell on him as well.
He was polite and ate with a fork. He unfolded a napkin, draped it over
his lap and discreetly dabbed his mouth whenever it was appropriate. He
took small bites and small sips of wine. His fingernails were manicured,
his palms uncalloused, his hands clean, white and neat. I'd never seen
him in such a state.
I'd once seen him smash his open mouth into a hogshead loaf while fucking
an angel-goth groupie beneath the hotel manager's desk littered with flex
and seize and hairoon and assorted paraphanalia, her black net wings
stained with cum and oil and dried cheese, her stockings torn, her ass
still smoking from the cauterizing brand he'd applied (with his rock
symbol). I seemed to recall the flashing red and blue lights of cops
responding to the manager's desperate plea for help as well. It was a
hell of an image, and one that we'd played up in the media streams
whenever we could get a cheap byte.
It was hard to rectify that image with the straight and narrow gentleman
sitting before us now. His teeth white. His eyes clear and lucid. His tie
double knotted with a silver clip, tugging now and then on his cuffs,
fondling his silver links, looking regal and well-adjusted and slightly
above it all.
I wondered how long it had taken them to scrub all the pussy and sweat
and tattoos off of him. I wondered how long it had taken them to exhaust
the drugs from his system.
I was starting to lose hope. I looked at Jess, sitting primly at the end
of the table, looking shy and confused and blushing while she pushed a
potato around her plate. I looked at Sam who'd managed to become the
center of attention, feeding Snipe with a fork and laughing as she
spilled a drop on his chin, dabbing at it with her napkin. I looked at
myself, jealous of her for outsmarting me.
Then Snipe's eyes met mine and they flashed with mischief. His voice was
low, full of gravel again, and unmistakable.
"Tonight."
I shook my head and swept a long wavy lock of hair from my eyes.
He grinned his snaggletooth grin.
"Be ready."
* * *
We squirmed the next morning. All of three us, horny and eager and
feeling the urgent need to slip those wonderful helmets on our head get a
fresh taste of nanos.
Afterwards we slept, dreamless and deep.
When we awoke, we felt squirmy again and found ourselves practically
running to the nano room and strapping on the helmets. It was a big dose.
Much bigger than before.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Nanos. Nanos. Nanos. We hadn't eaten, hadn't
drank, and had slept the entire day while those malicious little bots
fucked us as only microscopic robots can.
The next day was a blur that none of us recalled with any clarity.
Dressing in plain gowns-which might as well have been made of burlap,
they were so ugly and unflattering--our hair tied into ponytails, our
faces scrubbed clean of makeup. Feeling solemn and sorrowful and weepy,
we marched from one place to another.
Somehow we appeared in a court room, though none of us remembered the
ride. We knelt before the judge while the prosecutor laid out our case.
Biting our lips and wiping away the constant flow of tears that stained
our pretty white cheeks, we felt plain, unfeminine and just terrible. The
prosecutor finished his tirade, then it was our turn, but of course on
Inser, the guilty do not have a right to attorneys. You are presumed
guilty and have to earn the right for an attorney by disproving at least
three alleged facts. We were too far gone to do anything but plead for
forgiveness and mercy.
It was holovised, of course, which we didn't know at the time. We
wouldn't know until we saw the shocking clip of ourselves months later.
After a long silence and a stern look from the judge, I was finally
chosen to speak for the group. I sobbed. It just came out of me, the
apologies, the admission of guilt, all the while little zaps of pleasure
racked my brain. The more I "came clean" the better I felt. By the end, I
was in such a euphoric confession that I would've gladly admitted to
killing the Gillian babies.
I knew what the nanos had done, of course. They'd concentrated all their
energy on that area of the brain that governs "spiritual" feelings. Most
people confused those feelings with god and religion and all types of
mythical nonsense for which the MAN vaccine had been created back in '82,
but I supposed the nanos had killed that little bit of protective
goodness from my childhood. I felt the touch of God. He sounded a lot
like the Judge, and I was desperate to appease him. I would've given up
any one of us, and gladly did.
I knew now why Michael would've done the same. Not because he had been
programmed by nanos, but because he didn't want to be.
I gave him up, too, of course, in open court when they asked who had
helped us. I could only hope that he was smart enough to see it coming
and prepare. At the time it felt so right. Michael had actually done us a
great harm, see? He'd lied to us, told us he was protecting us when in
fact he was keeping us from absolution, and from the ecstasy of paying
for our sins.
An hour later, after the nanos had burned away (the more active, the
quicker their expiration), I vomited.
I'd given up the man who'd protected us, but even as I thought it, I
couldn't help feel that lingering joy, and that made me sick all over
again.
I was ready to give up.
I was going to give into the nanos. I wouldn't fight them anymore. I'd be
a good girl, a good girlfriend, a good housewife, a good sexy servant for
my husband, using all my curves and other goods to acquire what I was
programmed to acquire, a good mother, a good citizen of the Inser Unity
Complanet.
Jess was happy. Why shouldn't I be as well?
I slept, really slept for the first time in weeks. Tomorrow would be a
new day for me.
I awoke to a hand covering my mouth and instantly struck out with my
nails. My arms were secured to my sides as the hand pressed harder,
pushing my head back into the pillow. I began to shake with terror, until
my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I managed to discern Snipe's
snaggletoothed grin. His eyes sparkled as he straddled me. He laid a
finger across his lips and went, "Shhhhhhhhh...." then tweaked my bare
nipple, which at that moment had made the mistake of peeking out from
beneath the sheets. It sent a shot of pleasure right down my spine and I
tried not to moan.
I wanted him. Right then. Right there, and was just about to find my way
to his cock when he left me, cold and alone in the room.
I looked over and saw him awaken Jess, then Sam.
We got dressed. I must've been taking too long, because the third or
fourth time he came to check on me, I was stripping off an orange
turtleneck in favor of a ribbed cotton tee that I thought might go with
my pleated denim skirt. He growled, turned me around, and slapped my ass
so hard tears sprang to my eyes. I sniffled, and he didn't even seem to
care, the bastard.
He pointed to the door, to his wrist, employing the antiquated gesture
for "time", and then rushed us, herded us out the door, sweeping us along
with his gnarls, growls and stern glares.
In minutes he'd hacked a car and we were hovering into a family lane two
miles above the city at a fair clip.
That's when the first cop appeared behind us.
End of Part III
Kaidence
- 10.12.2021
- 46
- 0
A Mother s Helping Hands Part III
- 4 years ago
- 91
- 0
My So Called Sex Life Part III
- 4 years ago
- 62
- 0
