Chapter 17: Subspace

The ring-shaped framework of pistons, pulleys, levers, and flywheels ran smoothly from the power of the shivering and shaking slavegirl held within it. Her every move translated back into a delayed tug, and her resistance to the tug became an even greater pull. The net result was an unending cascade of thrashing and stretching that only quieted down when exhaustion set in.

All things considered, the slavegirl was glad to have had the shower. She'd been locked into a rubber catsuit and corset for over 24 hours, and the cold jets of water had removed all of the sweat and grime of the previous day. Of course, since the nurse had used a depilatory foam to clean her body, they had also removed all her hair.

As she hung limp in the core of the wicked machine, the lights slowly dimmed and finally winked out. She drifted to sleep for a while, only to be awakened hours later as she found herself twitching and tugging the machine to life again. As she focused on calming herself down again, she noticed that the lights were slowly coming on again.

She heard the now-familiar slow creak as the framework's flywheels slowed to a stop again, and exhaled with relief. Soon the lights dimmed again and she slept once more.

Marie dreamt that she hung on a St. Andrew's cross in the middle of a stone courtyard. She instinctively searched for all the other familiar elements of her previous dreams: the nobles all stood with frightening metal tools and instruments of pain in their hands, and the covered sedan chair stood opposite her.

She squinted at the chair, to see the occupant's legs exposed in the sunlight. She knew, looking at the opulent liter, that the nobles were owned by this woman just as she was. Marie thought she could make out the queen's clothing: a black leather corset dress and ballet boots, just as Angelica had worn upstairs.

"Angie! Please! Stop doing this to me, please!" she cried out across the courtyard.

"Oh, I have not yet even begun, dear!" Angelica stepped out from the crowd of nobles, dressed in a steel frame corset over velvety robes with a slit down the front middle. Around her wrists she wore steel cuffs, and in her fists she clutched a cat-o-nine-tails.

Marie screamed as Angelica laid into her, shredding her body into leaves that blew away in the wind. Before darkness again covered her eyes, she saw the queen draw the curtains on her sedan chair.

Marie woke up slowly, her body feeling much better for the rest despite her position. She realized she was in pitch blackness again, and wondered aloud what time it was. As the minutes ticked past, she began calling out to whoever could hear her.

No response came. Eventually she decided that she needed to move to wake up her limbs, and she began to pull gently at the machine. She soon realized that if she simply let her mind tune into the rhythm of the machine, she could keep it running smoothly and slowly. The room's lights slowly glowed to full brightness, and she relaxed into the gentle workout as she felt her joints limbering up again.

Time lost all meaning as Marie's life was reduced to rhythmic exercise, meditative breathing, and sleep. She lost count even of the number of times she went through light and dark. Only the hunger in her belly gave her any sense of how long she had been hooked up to the generator frame.

After a long stretch of dreamless sleep, Marie awoke to a crack of light casting her bound silhouette on the white tile wall in front of her. The crack widened and she realized that another silhouette was cast just beside and below hers. A shapely hourglass figure strutted on stiletto heels until the two figures blurred inside the circle of mechanical parts.

"Wake up, sleepyhead..." cooed a familiar whisper, "It's time to turn on the lights now."

"Angie? W-what time is it? What happened to you?"

"Shhhhh..." Angelica cooed as Marie felt something cold and slippery being rubbed against her back, "What's important is that you owe the agency 25 lashes. As your Mistress chose me to handle your account, I will be collecting them from you. This way I can settle the books with authority afterward."

"P-please, Angie. I'm so cold ... and hungry ... I haven't eaten in days Angie, please!"

Angelica ignored her protests as she held a rubber flogger's handle up to Marie's lips. "Kiss the whip, slave, and thank your Mistress for the opportunity to repay your debt!"

Frightened, but resigned to submission so long as her body was kept in this terrible frame, she brought her lips to the rubber dildo that made up the whip handle. "Thank you, M-mistress, for allowing me to repay my debt." she mumbled, wondering where her Mistress was.

Angelica ran her fingers over Marie's smooth bald head. "Well done, pet. You will count each one."

Marie screamed as the rubber strips snapped against the small of her back. She was just able to call out "one!" as the generator framework rumbled to life and another blow landed diagonally across her left thigh.

Angelica stretched and snapped the flogger against Marie's body with a rhythm that seemed to maximize the reaction from the generator. Each blow was just slightly off-beat, causing a new type of twitch or jerk from Marie's limbs. By the fifth stroke, the lights had come on, and by the tenth, they were at full brightness.

Marie sobbed and screamed as she felt the rubber strips snap against her back, her counting automatic. The pain was minimal, and she felt the machine's kneadings less and less as her body seemed to slip slowly away. Soon she felt that she was nothing but a warm and sore back, floating in a mist of numbers. Her eyes lost focus, and the white room's features faded into an even glare.

While the real Marie thrashed and counted under Angelica's relentless strokes, her mind floated back to the courtyard in her dreams. White glare became grey fog, and she felt the flagstones beneath her feet. Looking around, she realized that the entire courtyard was empty, except for a tall sedan chair.

Marie took a step forward, and floated toward the seat. As she approached, a slender hand reached out. Its latex-gloved fingers were adorned with silver rings and finger greaves, and it held a riding crop out horizontally. The hand flicked in a downward gesture, and Marie felt herself flattened to the ground by some unseen force.