Trisha's brow furrowed as she checked out the last few settings on the computer. Everything looked right. There were no glitches that she could see, and since it was her ass on the line if something screwed up well... honestly, it would only cost her money, but it was a fair amount of cash, and she didn't want to lose it.
She squirmed in her seat, feeling how hot and sticky her pussy had gotten as she'd gone over the hardware and software one last time. She was going to wait until this afternoon to use it, and the excitement and anticipation were really getting to her. Resolutely, she got out of her chair, and went downstairs to get something to eat. A light lunch was in order -- nothing too heavy, she didn't want to get sick later -- but she didn't want to pass out either.
Finally it was time, and Trisha's heart was beating hard as she thought about what was going to happen to her today. The experience was going to be exquisite, that was for sure, but she'd never gone this far before. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too far, but if it was, well, there wasn't much she could do to stop it.
She stretched and looked at her nude body in the mirror, liking what she saw. Now-a-days, few people didn't -- not with bio-sculpting becoming so popular, and hence, somewhat affordable. It was still frowned on by the CCCP, the Christian Conservative Coalition Party, a party that was very powerful in Congress, but they didn't control everything. Yet.
She thought about the enhancements she'd had made to her body. Enhancements were different than bio-sculpting, and they had been all but outlawed in this country, much as abortion had been when the CCCP had gained so much power in the US. But you could still have it done in Europe, and a lot of women did. It wasn't illegal to have had it done, it was just illegal for anyone to do enhancements -- especially sexual ones -- in the US. Of course, there were a lot of places Stateside that would still do it -- if you were very rich. Likewise, there were places, underground shops, where you could get it done as well -- if you wanted to risk having your body badly damaged. It was the same with all sexual services (like birth control, abortion and sexual education for teens), thanks again, to the CCCP.
Trisha hadn't changed her looks -- much. She'd gotten a sexual enhancement package, which included a fair number of internal and nerve ending changes. Her nipples were now quite sensitive to stimulation and she could actually orgasm from having them played with, and she'd had them enlarged a fair amount. Her breasts, which were a modest 'B' cup, she'd left alone, other than enhancing their ability sexually stimulate her when they were played with.
She'd had the hair on her legs and pussy lips bio-adjusted so that it didn't grow anymore. She'd been undecided about doing that to her armpits, since -- as socially unacceptable as it was (after all, only Lesbians grew underarm hair, and being a Lesbian was grounds for psychiatric 'adjustment'), it wasn't illegal and she thought that it was pretty sexy. She hadn't grown hers yet though, and might never, since the last thing she needed was a CCCP agent from Homeland Security knocking on her door.
Her pussy itself was now far more sensitive than it had been. Her entire tunnel was as sensitive as her outer pussy lips had been before the enhancement. It was tighter too -- at the extreme end of the range. Now, a normal sized penis (read, about six inches) felt very large. Her cunt could still take a large cock -- and she preferred them -- but it was pretty uncomfortable. To help with that, her glands now produced a lot of cunt juice when she was excited. Her scent had been enhanced, since unlike the Americans who tried to hide a woman's scent with perfumes and bio-fixes, the Europeans had discovered that a woman's scent, when she was excited, was usually a big turn-on for not only her partner, but herself as well. That included the scent from under her arms -- something that most American's had eradicated in their early teens.
Her g-spot had been slightly enlarged and she could cum -- hard -- from having it stroked. Her clit had always been sensitive but she'd had it enhanced anyway. It was slightly larger and, with the painful suction treatments she often inflicted on herself, super sensitive. Too sensitive to directly stimulate it. She'd done that on purpose though, since when she was tied and helpless, and her clit was played with, her orgasms were out of this world. Since her sex drive was amped up to be about twice what it normally was, she was always horny, and sometimes just wearing tight panties was enough to make her orgasm. She'd gotten good at hiding it, but it was always a mess to clean up afterwards. She didn't mind that though; it was a small price for the pleasure she received daily.
Today though, today was all about something she was sure she craved -- pain. Thinking about being helpless to stop pain from being inflicted on her body made her wet, and the machines and programs she'd built would be her first real foray into this experience. She hoped that she'd judged her limits and desires correctly. If she hadn't, she had a panic button that would stop the programs and the machines, but at a cost: Once she activated the fail safe, more than half of her savings would be transferred into a PAC fund that helped to re-elect CCCP members. And she hated the CCCP with a passion, so she'd have to be in dire straights before she'd pull the plug on today's entertainment by using her safety switch.
Trisha walked away from the mirror and into her small, private dungeon. It was the perfect room for it since it was located in the middle of her house. There were no windows, and no outside walls, which was good, since the Patriot Act, Version 3 allowed IR and signal monitoring of any home at random. IR wouldn't penetrate this far and the room was shielded (she'd done that herself) so none of the wireless communications from her devices would be picked up. Likewise, the computer in this room had no connection to the Internet. If it had, it would be required by law to carry monitoring hardware and software so that what sites she visited could be reported to the CCCP Child Safety Committee. They monitored all personal computer traffic for any hint of kiddy porn, which meant any sexual interest in, or sexual conversations with a person under the age of 21. It also meant any writing, drawing or picture containing a person, real or fictional, who was under twenty-on. And, of course, they monitored for any hint of terrorist activity.
Trisha looked around the room, sighing with happiness. Here, she could indulge herself. She wished it was like the old days where she could go online and find someone else who was interested in BDSM, but along with all other sexually deviant behavior, it had been outlawed. Being found practicing BDSM meant life in prison for the Dominant and Personality Repair for the submissive.
It had taken her a lot of searching to get information on BDSM. It could still be found -- if not easily -- and she'd gotten most of it when she was in Europe. She'd made most of the toys herself, and since she figured it was unlikely she'd ever find a partner to indulge her lusts with, she'd become very good at building and programming machines. Well, she hoped she'd gotten good at it. Today was the first time she was going to abandon herself to her desires, and if she'd fucked up... well, the results could be bad in more than just monetary ways. Trisha didn't care. Her body craved rough treatment and she needed sex every day. She saw today as a way to begin to fulfill her darker desires.
Trisha fitted the head band snuggly around her forehead, making sure the contacts were in the right place. It had taken her weeks to program the computer to recognize when she was just about to have an orgasm. This was important, since she had denied herself one for two days and she was climbing the walls. If all went well, she'd be having a really super one later -- after her program of torture ran its course. As it was, her machines would stimulate her right to the razor's edge of cumming, then back off.
She didn't know the exact timing of anything that was going to be happening to her today. Everything was set on random -- within the parameters she'd set, of course.
For instance, for the first segment of her ordeal, she'd be sexually stimulated for somewhere between fifteen minutes and forty-five minutes -- but denied an orgasm. Then for somewhere between three and four hours, she would be tortured with needles and electricity. There would be a break for sexual stimulation for one minute, one time each hour. After her torture was finished, she would be sexually stimulated again for five minutes only. If she came, she'd be released. If not, while she wouldn't be tortured with pain, for the next hour she'd be stimulated almost to orgasm, but ultimately denied. Then she'd be released to do what she wanted, and she knew from experience that no matter how horny she was, it might be hours before she could have an orgasm after a session like that. That was a torture all its own.
She did one last check of the machinery, then realized that she was stalling. She debated using the bathroom -- she had to pee pretty bad -- but decided against it. No doubt, she'd lose control of bladder several times today, but that just added to her arousal.
Finally, she sat down in the wooden chair. The seat had a hole in it, and wasn't very comfortable, but it allowed complete access to her cunt. And after all, this wasn't about her being comfortable. She set her feet on the cool metal plate, then ran the leather straps over them to hold them in place. When she finished, she could wiggle her toes just a little, but that was about it.
.... There is more of this story ...