Chapter 1

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Coercion, Drunk/Drugged, Science Fiction, Robot, Sadistic, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Violent, Prostitution, Military, .

Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Abducted and mind-wiped by a powerful corporation, Claire Savage is forced to work in an illicit brothel. Escaping sexual enslavement and fighting to regain her memories, she uncovers a shocking secret about her past and a conspiracy that threatens to plunge the world into chaos.

Gene Simmonds, CEO of Syntel Corporation, looked across the glass-topped desk at the two men seated opposite: Gordon Henderson, Operations Director and his deputy, Damian Hodges.

"So after smoke knows how many years Gordon, you've finally located the bastard that's caused us so much trouble?"

"We had an eighty percent positive from the surveillance grid," the Operations Director replied, a balding man in his late forties. "We recently obtained several images of him exiting an early model sport coupe with Elysian registration plates. Natalie ran it through City Records and we traced it to a residence in the west quarter."

"What action have you taken?" Simmonds demanded.

"After establishing that the whole family are in residence, we've stationed a recon team on the ground. There's no way he's going to slip through the net."

"I'm amazed that she's still alive. Make her disappear into thin air and let him wonder whether it's us. So long as there's any lingering doubt in his mind, he won't cut and run. We'll allow him to suffer for a while then put him out of his misery."

"You're going to leave him loose?" Henderson asked incredulously. "After all the time and effort it's taken us to locate him?"

"He won't go anywhere without her," Simmonds stated confidently. "When we eventually bring him in, we'll show him the consequences of his actions and make him truly sorry that he ever crossed us."

"What do you want us to do with her?" Hodges spoke for the first time, his tone conveying confidence in the presence of his superiors.

"Bring her here to the Facility. I've a fitting fate in store for her. When he eventually finds out what we've done, it'll break his fucking heart."

Hodges nodded solemnly.

A recent appointee to the team, Damian Hodges had been instrumental in finally tracing the subject. Installing the heuristic recognition algorithms within the central nexus of the surveillance grid had been his brainchild and there was no denying the results. Simmonds viewed the snappily dressed youngster and tried hard to think of a more suitable place in his organization for such a talented individual.

"You've done well."

"Just doing my job sir," he replied flatly, carefully disguising the feeling of smug satisfaction at the CEO's compliment.

Gordon Henderson scowled, aware that his years of toil on this particular task now counted for nothing. His protégé had already usurped his much-needed glory.

"Dismissed," Simmonds sighed, not even watching as his two subordinates withdrew to conclude his one unmitigated disaster.


Horns blared irately as Claire Savage cut viciously across two lanes of fast moving traffic and sped the SUV down the exit ramp of the city's orbital ring road.

"Mum," Hailey giggled as she peered out of the rear window, "the driver of that truck is making rude signs at us."

The children had crawled out of bed late forcing her to push the car to its limits to deliver them to school in time for first bell.

"If you'd got ready when I told you, I wouldn't have to drive like a lunatic," Claire chastised. "How many times this week is it?"

"It was Ruth's fault," Hailey protested, glaring mischievously across the back seat at her twelve-year-old sister. "She wanted to watch the Kelly J concert on the satellite."

"You wanted to watch it too," the younger of the two girls shot back indignantly.

"I don't know why I let you two stay up on a school night," Claire sighed. "It was spooling onto disk and you could've watched it at any time over the weekend."

"But it's not the same," the girls chorused.

Claire momentarily eyed the bickering pair in the rear view mirror before returning her attention to the road, concentrating on the task of navigating the remaining few kilometres to Cedar Valley High School. The girls did their utmost to test her patience. Despite that, she loved them unreservedly whilst conceding that they manipulated her without mercy.

The family had arrived back in New Arizona just three months previously. Before that, they'd lived for nearly four years in Elysia: an opulent enclave located on Oceania's eastern fringe. They'd eked out a meagre living amongst the rich and famous before a chance meeting with Jenna Hudson, the proprietor of the Parador Hotel. Her work as a chambermaid had brought in significantly more income than her husband Karl earned as an aerospace technician. It was mainly his unhappiness with her suspected extracurricular responsibilities that prompted him to return them to the land of his birth.

Despite her initial reluctance, she'd finally agreed to leave. She loved her husband more than anything else, remembering fondly their friendly banter over breakfast.

"See you later baby," Karl had teased as he'd departed for work.

She'd scowled and punched him playfully in the arm.

"I hate it when you call me that. It's so demeaning."

"I only do it to wind you up."

"I know you do honey," she'd replied, smiling in acceptance.

Breaking her reverie, the school crept into view and Claire pulled into a vacant parking bay.

At fifteen, Hailey was blossoming into a young woman. Her maturing body had already started to attract the attention of a bevy of male admirers. Long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes made her the epitome of modern youth: beautiful, intelligent and precocious.

By contrast, Ruth was dark-haired and gangling. She'd inherited her father's characteristics: quiet, thoughtful and introspective. Disregarding peer pressure, she resolutely refused to follow fad fashion despite attracting the inevitable derision of her non-conformity. Fortunately, the current school enforced a strict dress code policy that spared her the taunts and ridicule that had dogged her at previous schools.

Claire watched as the pair jumped out of the car and hastened over the flagged concourse, turning and casting their broad smiles before disappearing inside. They'd settled well into their new surroundings and already started to form new friendships, helping dispel some of Claire's misgivings about the prudence of the move.

With the day's first chore complete, Claire returned to the car and headed home to continue with the hectic life of housewife and mother. She drove at a more sedate pace, immersing herself in the journey and relishing how the vehicle responded to the slightest touch on the controls. Two months ago Karl had bought it for her thirty-fifth birthday, replacing the ageing relic that not even his engineering expertise could tempt into another moment of servitude. The SUV boasted a host of creature comforts that made it a joy to drive; cruise control, air conditioning and the latest fuel cell technology all combined to make the daily commute an almost pleasurable experience. She sighed contentedly, finally admitting to herself that the relocation from the coast was going to work out well after all.

As Claire neared home, she hummed happily to herself. She felt fortunate to have not only married the man that she loved but been blessed with two extra special children. Karl made enough money that they could live comfortably but part of her still longed for the affluence from their time in Elysia. Not only that, she was unaccustomed to having so much free time on her hands and was currently searching for a part time job to keep her mind active.

After much cajoling, Karl had finally acceded to her request to enrol in college. In three years, he could earn his engineering diploma and be eligible to apply for design jobs in his field rather than relegated to being just a 'knuckle dragger' as he often fondly referred to himself.

She drove down the quiet street on which they lived, waving through the window at the crouching figure of Kathy, their new neighbour. The pretty young woman was engrossed in tending to her flowerbeds and hardly noticed her presence. Yesterday, the woman had told her of the appalling abuse at the hands of her former husband and how much she now hoped for a life free from his influence. In all their years together, Karl had never come close to laying a hand on her. During her illness and traumatic recovery four years ago, his dedication and commitment had known no bounds.

The garage door opened automatically as the car rolled up the driveway. She parked, then entered the house through the interconnecting door. Once in the lounge, she powered up the plasma tank, projecting a three dimensional representation of a game show into the living space.

She casually flipped channels and happened upon a discussion on the failing fortunes of President Carlton. She'd hated the man from day one and was amazed when he managed to win a second term of office. Despite abysmal ratings, the pundits still favoured him for retention in the upcoming elections. The only member of the administration for whom she had any respect was Vice President Sam Weaver. In her view, he was a man of great integrity and more deserving of the top job rather than the almost impotent position that he currently held. She muted the sound and addressed the room.

"Malik, fifth symphony, third movement."

The soothing sound of strings softly filled the room from hidden speakers and restored her to a state of calm. She walked over to a small wall cabinet and extracted a squat silver flask from within. Pouring a generous quantity of the contents into a tall glass, she downed the foul smelling concoction in one gulp. The medication helped keep her illness in remission, but the children forever protested about its vile stench, pinching their noses closed and wafting the air in an exaggerated manner.

Collapsing onto the sofa, Claire savoured the feel of the soft leather against her bare arms and legs.

The house was a dream compared to the apartment in which they had lived when first returning from Elysia. No continual drone of outside traffic kept them awake at night and as far as she'd ascertained the current neighbourhood maintained a virtually crime free record.

The wall shelf held an ageing wedding photograph. A much younger Claire stared back at her, the adulatory expression that of a woman very much in love. Beside her, Karl's rugged profile effused confidence. Even now, his clean-shaven good looks valiantly resisted the ravages of time.

She looked across at her reflection in the mirror; sleek, well-toned curves and striking dark brown hair draped well below shoulder level. Admiring how well she was maturing, she quietly anticipated her first session at the local gym later in the week. I've got to keep in shape, she told herself, determined to avoid the slide into decline that motherhood often precipitated.

The doorbell drew her attention and she keyed the remote. The image of a tall red-headed woman replaced that of the political debate. Dressed in a smartly pressed trouser suit, she clutched a thick clipboard protectively against her chest.

"Hello?" Claire addressed the projection.

"City auditor, ma'am," the image replied. "We're doing registration for the Presidentials. I'll need your signature if you're going to be voting."

"I'll be right there," Claire replied fervently. "I can't allow that asshole Carlton in for a third run."

"No ma'am," the woman chuckled.

The front door responded to Claire's thumbprint against the lock, unlatching and swinging open to reveal the waiting official in the flesh. The woman had a photo ID hanging from a chain around her neck identifying her as Melanie Strauss.

"Where do I sign?"

"Right here, ma'am," the woman replied, passing the clipboard towards her and edging a step closer to point out the relevant areas of the form that she'd highlighted with a fluorescent marker pen.

After cursorily scanning the small print, Claire endorsed the marked boxes just as the woman slid nearer. Melanie's spare hand held a hidden device which she surreptitiously pressed into Claire's midriff.

Claire's world exploded into pain. She staggered backwards to escape but the woman expertly followed her, applying the sharp metallic instrument against the base of her neck. Bright lights filled her vision momentarily, and then a blanket of dense fog descended as she spiralled into darkness.


At the end of a long and gruelling day, Karl Savage responded to his pager and hurried to the shift supervisor's office. He believed he'd settled well into the new job but still held concerns that someone found fault with his work.

"Problems boss?" he asked as he stood nervously before the man.

"I've just taken a call from your kids' school," the supervisor relayed. "Your missus failed to show up and we're down as one of your emergency contact numbers."

Karl experienced a spark of anxiety; one dread had been replaced with one much more deep rooted. Quickly suppressing the feeling, he reached into his overalls and powered up his mobile phone.

"Let me try her number. She's probably stuck in traffic."

The quick dial on his phone yielded a ring tone which transferred to voice mail a short time later. He hung up and tried again with just as little success.

"Boss," he implored, "I've got a favour to ask."

"Get out of here," the man snapped good-naturedly. "Just be sure to make your time up."

"Cheers boss."

He raced towards the lockers, quickly changed out of work clothes and headed towards his car, a turbo-charged gas guzzler that he'd brought back from Elysia.

Karl raced speedily around the orbital to collect the girls from school whilst a myriad of possibilities played through his mind: Claire's car had broken down; she'd been involved in an accident; she'd gone shopping and lost track of time.

He strode into the school reception area and discovered the vice principal sitting beside both his daughters.

"Mister Savage?" the woman inquired as their eyes met.

"Yes. Did my wife leave a message?"

"Not to my knowledge sir. The school secretary only informed me when she failed to collect at the scheduled time. We tried her mobile number and when that failed we contacted your place of work."

Karl shook his head, desperately trying to dispel the impending sense of doom. Surely not after all these years, he agonized before forcing himself to dismiss the morbid fear in favour of more mundane explanations.

"Hey kids, did your mum tell you if she had any plans for the day?" he asked as he bundled the girls into the rear seat of his car.

"No, nothing," Hailey replied tentatively. "Where is she?"

"I'm not sure. She's probably left a note for us at home."

"But she's okay isn't she?"

"She's fine. Don't worry yourself. Your mum's fine."

Half expecting to discover a charred ruin where his house once stood, he felt overwhelming relief to find it proudly intact at the end of the journey.

The garage door flipped up but yielded no surprises; Claire's car was missing from its bay. He flew around the house calling out her name but received only a deathly silence in return. None of the rooms provided any clue to his wife's whereabouts and the girls' growing unease only exacerbated his own. Walking up to the plasma tank, he listed any stored telephone messages but drew a complete blank. As a last resort, he replayed the footage from the front door camera.

After viewing Claire depart with the children, he fast-forwarded through the virtually unchanging street scene until his own car arrived nine hours later. He concluded that she'd left that morning and not returned.

The children moped glumly, anxiously waiting for his rationalization of their mother's absence. Karl was at a loss. Claire never just disappeared without leaving some indication of her plans.

He wandered lethargically into the kitchen intending to prepare dinner but lacking the motivation to start. Nobody was hungry anyway. After an hour, he began desperately ringing around local hospitals enquiring about recent admissions and giving out Claire's description.

Fatigue had set in by late evening and he forced himself to prepare a light snack. The girls picked indifferently at the food, worry written indelibly across their faces. He cajoled them into attempting homework before shepherding them into bed.

Karl spent the entire night tossing restlessly and playing disturbing scenarios through his mind: from horrific traffic accidents to abduction by criminal slavers. He steadfastly refused to face the possibility that his actions of four years ago had finally returned to haunt him.


Waking bleary eyed, Karl roused the children. They complained bitterly but he firmly overruled their protests and enforced the morning ritual. He delivered them to school then returned home.

The house seemed eerily empty without Claire. He couldn't shake the daunting suspicion that he'd never see her again. Earlier, he'd contacted his boss and requested a day's leave of absence, citing an unexpected family emergency. Staring vacantly into space, he idly wondered whether staying at home really achieved anything and considered returning to work after all. At least he'd have something to occupy his mind.

The doorbell broke his reverie and he rushed to answer it. Just the sight of the police patrol vehicle parked by the roadside confirmed his worst fears.

"Karl Savage?" the smaller of two uniformed officers inquired.

"Yes."

"I'm Officer Sikorski and this is my partner, Officer Hellman."

"Hi. How can I help you?"

"Are you the owner of a silver Venturer SUV, license AT6Z232?"

"Yes. That's right."

He delivered his responses without emotion but deep inside, his guts churned.

"May we come inside sir?" the officer asked politely.

A jogger had discovered the vehicle earlier that morning, partially submerged in the River Belmont that flowed through the centre of New Arizona. The passenger compartment had been empty but the driver's side door hung open, presenting the possibility that any occupant had been swept into the water. A mobile crane had extracted the car and deposited it on the bank.

Karl looked at several images on the officer's PDA. None of the exterior panels showed damage but the interior had suffered severely from the ingress of mud and river water. He doubted the vehicle was salvageable.

"The on-board computer failed at thirteen thirty hours," the officer informed him, "which gives us the time of immersion, give or take."

"I see," Karl replied tentatively, wondering what Claire was doing on the opposite side of the city, and what had happened to her after dropping off the children at school.

"Did you check the vehicle cameras?"

"I'm sure Forensics will do just that."

"Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," Sikorski relented. "I can see that you're worried. They'll extract the vehicle's Datacore and playback the last few journeys as soon as they can."

"Okay."

"This was your wife's car?"

"Yes. I hardly ever drove it."

"Then she was driving it yesterday?"

"She took the children to school in the morning and would normally have driven straight home."

"The area where the vehicle was found is pretty derelict: disused industrial units mostly. Do you have any idea what your wife would have been doing there?"

Karl shook his head.

The officers probed Claire's possible state of mind but Karl furiously denied the possibility that she was in any way suicidal.

"We've got patrol boats equipped with thermal imaging equipment scanning the water," Sikorski informed him.

"What about surveillance footage from the shore?" Karl asked hopefully.

"All the nearby cameras are either faulty or have been vandalised. The area's been out of use for a couple of years. If you wanted to drive into the river unobserved then this was definitely the place."

"My wife didn't kill herself," Karl snapped, irritated by the officer's continued assertions.

Sikorski had other duties lined up for the morning and saw no reason to linger. He handed Karl his contact card and informed him that the car would be cleared for collection once the forensic unit completed their inspection.

Karl stood beside the road watching as the patrol car disappeared from sight. The visit had prompted more questions than answers, leaving him feeling both angry and confused.

"Is everything okay Mister Savage?"

Karl looked up as his neighbour approached from the direction of her house.

"Claire didn't come home yesterday, Kathy."

"Didn't she leave a note or anything?"

"Nothing at all."

"Would you like to come over for a coffee?"

Not wishing to be alone, Karl decided to accept her offer.

"Just let me lock up," he told her as he walked back to the house.

Karl sipped coffee in his neighbour's lounge, having related much of what had transpired over the previous day.

"Are you sure you didn't see her at all after she left in the morning?"

"I spent most of the morning gardening at the front," Kathy confirmed. "I'm fairly sure I'd have noticed her car if she'd come back at any time."

"I can't believe this is happening," Karl sighed. "What would she be doing over on the east side?"

"Perhaps she was meeting someone."

Karl shook his head, trying futilely to piece together a chain of events that would explain even a fraction of the irreconcilable facts.

"Kathy, can I ask a small favour?"

"Sure," the pretty brunette replied.

"Could I run through the footage from your external cameras, just to double check my own?"

"I can't see what it would achieve but you're welcome to look."

Like the view from his own system, the feed from Kathy's house protection system showed only the occasional sporadic traffic along the quiet suburban street with nothing at all around the time that his wife normally arrived home. He thanked the woman and made an excuse to leave.

"Just call if you need anything," Kathy sympathized sincerely. "I'd like to help if I can."

Karl nodded dutifully and returned to his empty house. After pouring himself a generous quantity of liquor, he sat down to drown his sorrows and try to figure a way of navigating through the next few days without completely losing his sanity. He knew that he had to hold himself together, if only for the girls' sake, but he was sorely tempted to gather up all their belongings and flee before anything further befell them. He resisted the impulse.

It made no sense, he acknowledged. If he disappeared, Claire would never find them again, if and when she was able. He finished his drink and quickly poured another, but even that failed to quench the utter misery of his loss. Finally, he lay down on the sofa and made up for all the sleep he'd missed from the night before.


The woman was laid out naked upon the examination bench. Thick steel cuffs secured her wrists and ankles to anchor points at each corner but they were there as a precaution only. The figure lay perfectly still except for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. Her eyes stared vacantly up at a fixed point on the ceiling, high above their heads. Dark brown hair fanned out from her head, shining brilliantly under the glow of the overhead spotlights. A bank of monitors displayed all her vital parameters as a confusion of numbers and slow moving traces across the screen. Suspended from a wheeled stand, a clear tube carried a pale fluid from a drip directly into her arm.

Simmonds looked down with interest, focusing on the swell of her modest breasts and the mass of dark curls around her crotch. This moment had been long in coming, but now that it had arrived, he took great satisfaction from it. The strike team had wheeled her in nearly twenty-four hours earlier and in the intervening time they'd run a battery of tests to establish her state of health. Revenge and spite were major factors in his thinking, outweighing any more pragmatic feelings he might have had on her disposal.

"Proceed," he told a stocky technician seated at a control desk beside the examination table.

The man activated a number of panel switches that immediately illuminated in confirmation. He proceeded to type a number of commands into a keyboard set into the desktop.

"How long?" Simmonds enquired after watching cryptic messages scroll up the accompanying display.

"Three hours," the technician replied with disinterest, his attention focused entirely on the readouts. "She'll be subdued for a day or so whilst she adjusts to the changes but after that, I'm sure she'll perform exactly according to the specifications you laid down."

"Excellent. I'll send someone down later to pick her up and get her ready for shipment."

The CEO took one last look at their restrained captive then turned on his heels and strode back towards the elevator, anxious to return to the administration level and the plush surroundings of his executive office.

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