Sublimation Pt. 04

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The final part. Please see part 1 for the story description and content warnings. I will reiterate the general warning here that this is one of my darker stories, despite the length, and some readers may find the ending disturbing or upsetting.

Two days later, Angela smuggles a spoon back to their room from dinner.

Of course, not wearing clothes, she’s very limited on where she can conceal the spoon. There’s not exactly any subtle way to go about the process of hiding it, either, but their supervision is limited during mealtimes, and the other women don’t seem to find anything notable about her shoving a piece of silverware up her cunt.

Once they’re back at the room, she has a limited time in which to retrieve the spoon–slippery now, because the stimulation of walking around with the odd-shaped bit of metal nudging inside her has been making her drip even more than usual–and shove it into the track in the wall that their door locks into. The track is just deep enough for her to wedge the spoon almost entirely in, so that only the roundest part sticks out beyond the usual profile of the doorway.

Nadia watches her curiously, but doesn’t say anything.

***

Half an hour later, as they’re both being fucked by the machines under their beds, the trainer passes down the hall.

His footsteps pause outside their door, and Angela holds her breath. She keeps her head down, does her best to focus on the sensation of her pussy being drilled out by the toy, pointedly not looking towards the trainer or the door or the spoon wedged in it. She just thinks about how good it feels to have her wet cunt filled, how much better it would feel to finally let loose and come, and bites back on the quiet whimpers of desperation that fall out of her.

After several long seconds, he moves on.

Angela lets out a sigh of relief, then groans as the relaxation changes the angle of her body and the toy hits a new angle inside her.

Eventually, the machines turn off and retracts, and they’re left to shower and prepare for bed. Angela feels achingly empty without the toy spreading her open. Maybe, once they’re free–if it takes a while to get the implant disabled–she can at least buy herself a machine like that, so that she can just let it fuck her for hours and hours, even if she can’t come, just…to just keep on being fucked, filled up…

She squeezes her eyes shut and forces herself to focus as she showers quickly. If they’re going to get out of here, she can’t be getting distracted. Obviously, the men running this facility think that the sexual control of the implants is more than enough to keep all of the women in line, with how little security appears to be in place; she can’t go proving them right.

As Angela finishes showering and climbs into bed, she gives Nadia a significant look and then tilts her head towards the door. Nadia just stares back with wide eyes; Angela hopes she understands.

The lights turn off.

The door rolls shut, and there’s a grinding noise as it encounters the obstruction of the spoon.

The grinding goes on for almost half a minute, and it occurs to Angela suddenly to worry that an alarm or something might go off once the door fails to close. She braces herself.

But the door falls silent, and there’s nothing; no alarm, no shouting of guards. Just the darkness, and a thin sliver of slightly lighter grey where the door hasn’t sealed.

“Angela?” Nadia whispers.

“Come on,” Angela whispers back, climbing out of bed and going to Nadia’s to tug her up. “Let’s go, come on!”

“Where are we going?” Nadia asks.

“You said you know the way out, right?”

“Yes?”

“So show me! Come on, we’re getting out of here!”

Nadia gets her feet under her and follows Angela to the door. Angela works her fingers into the slim gap at the door and tugs, then–when Nadia finally leans in to help–they manage to pull the door open enough for each of them to slip out, one after the other.

The hallway is empty and dark, lined with locked doors. Angela spares a thought for the women sealed behind them, wishing she could get everyone out; but she consoles herself with the thought that once she returns to a civilized part of space, when she explains what’s happening on Chime Station, then the other sectors will have no choice but to intervene. These women will all be rescued eventually.

She waves to Nadia, and Nadia begins to lead the way.

At first, Angela is appalled by how Nadia simply strolls down the middle of the dimly-lit halls; she creeps along behind her, sticking close to the walls, listening for the sound of guards walking ahead.

But it soon becomes clear that the facility really is empty of men after hours. No security guards, and not even any surveillance, that Angela can see; she scans the ceilings and the tops of the walls, looking for glinting lenses or swiveling cameras, and sees nothing. So, eventually, she straightens up and walks boldly beside Nadia, favoring sped over subtlety.

“Are siirt escort you sure this is right?” she asks after a few more corner-turns. “This doesn’t feel like the way I came in…”

“I don’t know how you came in,” Nadia whispers back. “This is the way we have to go.”

That’s reasonable enough. With the size of the facility, there must be more than one exit–and Nadia seems confident. So Angela quiets her doubts and continues to follow her friend.

Several minutes later, her trust pays off: she sees something familiar–they’re not far from the pleasure stable, only one hallway down from the wall where the hapless women are imprisoned for the use of random men in the station. Angela remembers the short distance between that hallway and the room where she had been checked into the facility, and her heart soars.

They’re doing it. They’re almost out. Of course, once they get out of the facility, they’ll still have to find a way off the station, but–

Nadia stops outside a door and opens it.

“No, Nadia,” Angela whispers, grabbing Nadia’s wrist as she passes her. “That’s the observation room, we have to keep–ah,” she gasps in surprise as Nadia grabs her in return, wrapping both hands around her arm.

Then Nadia yanks her into the observation room, dimly lit by the safety lights, and Angela finds herself face-to-face with the trainer.

Horrified, Angela tries to pull Nadia back out of the room–maybe they can still outrun him–but Nadia is ready, her grip on Angela’s wrist strong.

She hauls Angela in, step by step, until the door closes behind them, a lock engaging with a quiet click. Only then does Nadia let go and bounce up to the man standing in the center of the room, gasping breathlessly like an excited schoolgirl.

“Sir, sir! Here she is, I brought her! Did I do a good job?”

“Yes, you insidious little slut,” the trainer says, putting a hand on top of Nadia’s head and patting her. “You played your role perfectly.”

Angela backs up against the door, tugging at it, but it’s locked tight. She doesn’t understand. She needs to leave. She needs to run, if she can just get the door open…she can send help for Nadia, if she can just…

The trainer looks past Nadia and smiles at her, shaking his head. “Sorry, Angela. This is the end of the line.”

“But…Nadia?” Angela asks, her voice coming out small and confused.

The other woman doesn’t even turn around. She’s too busy snuggling up to the trainer, rubbing against his body like a cat. One of his hands goes down between her thighs, rubbing at her crotch, and she throws her head back and whines.

“Nadia’s one of our aberrants,” the trainer informs Angela. “She’s very good at her job, aren’t you, Nadia?”

“Mmm, mmm, sir,” Nadia whimpers in response, humping into his hand. “Please, I want your cock, please! I did good, didn’t I? Won’t you fuck me?”

“Patience,” he says, his tone turning cold, and Nadia immediately settles into silence and stillness, except for the minute rocking of her hips. “I need to explain to your friend here what a stupid whore she is, thinking she made friends with an aberrant.”

“An aberrant?” Angela repeats, and winces when she realizes she sounds as stupid as he says. She just can’t wrap her mind around what’s happening, can’t match the writhing, simpering woman in Nadia’s body to the friend she’s been living with for the past week and a half.

“Some of the women who are born on the station, who go through the full natal training program, turn out a little…screwy.” He pats Nadia on her ass. “Nadia here has been fully trained since the age of eighteen. But she’s different from the other trained women you’ve seen, right? More talkative, more aware. Aberrants are like that. But there’s no more humanity left inside them than any other trained woman–they just imitate humanity, like an animal mimicking human speech.”

“But…no. She wasn’t born here,” Angela stutters. “She said…”

“Oh, I’m sure she said all sorts of things. Nadia just loves to tell stories.” He smiles. “She’s never been off this station, Angela. Anything she told you is something she learned from another woman before you–just mimicking. None of it is real to her, it’s all just a game.”

“A game?”

“Oh, yes. Like playing pretend. I doubt she even understands that you’re a real person–she certainly doesn’t think she is. Are you a real person, Nadia?”

“I’m a cock-sleeve, sir, you should put your cock in me!” Nadia chirps. “Please, please, my pussy is so empty without it, I feel so useless and empty, please fuck me!”

“Alright,” the trainer says, and then he bends Nadia over one of the chairs in the room and unzips his pants.

Angela gapes, dizzy with confusion.

Trainer is already hard, like he’d been waiting for them. Anticipating this. When he slides into Nadia, she whines loudly in pleasure, her legs splaying out and her toes curling against the floor. She continues whining and whimpering silifke escort as he ruts into her, his movements short and efficient, not much different from the men inseminating the women in the reproduction stable.

Angela stares. She’s waiting for some sign that it’s a lie, that it’s some kind of strange joke. Or maybe he’s…gotten to Nadia at some point in the past day? Threatened her?

Nadia doesn’t even look back at Angela. It’s as if she’s forgotten that the other woman is in the room.

The trainer leans forward and says, “Ready, Nadia?” and Angela is shamed by the throbbing jealousy that breaks through the panic and horror as it occurs to her what’s about to happen. She’s about to see Nadia rewarded with an orgasm, for the task of…of fooling her. Lying to her.

Angela’s cunt clenches, her libido so powerful by now that even the betrayal she’s experiencing can’t dampen it. If she has to watch Nadia come in front of her right now, she might go mad.

But instead, what the trainer says next is, “Bad girl.”

Nadia screams and arches in pain rather than pleasure, her face twisting in agony. Her feet jerk across the floor and her thighs shake, simultaneously trying to draw together as if to instinctively protect the part of her that hurts while also trying not to squeeze down on the trainer’s cock and cause herself even more pain.

The trainer groans and pins her to the chair, thrusting hard through her uncoordinated flailing and shaking. “That’s it. So fucking tight,” he grunts, an obscenely beatific note of pleasure in his voice, and then he groans again as he sinks into her one last time and comes.

Nadia’s screams of pain turn thin and reedy, and then she goes silent as she collapses limply in the chair. The trainer pulls out and wipes his wet cock clean on Nadia’s thigh as Angela stares dumbly.

“But…” Angela says finally. “You…why did you…”

“Reward her? Because she brought you to me, just like she was supposed to,” he says, patting Nadia’s upturned ass.

“That wasn’t–you punished her! That was horrible!”

“Oh, not to her.” He smiles thinly. “She loves my cock, you heard her begging for it–not acceptable behavior in a typical trained girl, but aberrants need some extra attention.”

“You hurt her! You didn’t even let her come!”

He laughs at that. “Nadia belongs to me; I use the pain command every time I fuck her. Tightens her up really nicely. She doesn’t know that sex can happen any other way.” He pinches Nadia’s ass firmly, and she mewls and lifts her head. “What do you think, Nadia? Angela thinks I should have let you come.”

Nadia blinks slowly, looking dazed. When the trainer prompts her again, she just says hazily, “Come…where, sir?”

He laughs. “You see? She doesn’t know what it means. She’s never had an orgasm in her life. It’s the only way to manage aberrants–if they learn what it feels like to come, they become unruly, usually more trouble than they’re worth even to keep in the stables. This is it for her. This will always be the height of pleasure in her life–being used by me, giving me the best orgasm she’s capable of giving. Isn’t that right, Nadia? Are you glad that I fucked you?”

Nadia shifts weakly on the chair and gasps. “Thank you for using me, sir, I love your cock so much, I’ve missed it so much!”

“Does it make you upset, that I make you hurt so that I enjoyed it more?”

“I like when you enjoy me, sir, I like it so much,” Nadia says, though her thighs tremble as if reliving the memory of the pain. “I, I like to know that you’re happy with me, sir, I love that.”

“That’s right.” He pats Nadia again, then smiles at Angela. “I hope it’s starting to get through your thick brain now, you stupid whore. You’re not escaping. You’re not doing anything ever again. I’m going to turn you into what you’re meant to be–a dripping, mewling fuck-slave–and then I’m going to hand you over to the man who wanted you that way.”

“No,” Angela moans, despair creeping coldly through her.

“Oh, yes. The sooner you accept it, the better.” His smile turns into a mean little grin. “You’re better off this way, aren’t you? Look at what you do left to your own devices–you can’t even tell the difference between this talking sex toy and a real person. You thought you made friends with a fuck-doll.”

Angela stares from the trainer down to Nadia, taking in the blank expression of distant arousal on her friend’s face, the vacant eagerness to please.

The expression that she’s seen on countless trained women.

Something inside of Angela breaks, and she slowly slides down to sit on the floor.

The trainer laughs. “Now you’re getting it. Why don’t you just sit there for a bit and think.”

She does.

She sits there as the trainer logs some information on a computer. Making notes about her progress; she knows this because he tells her, though she doesn’t bother to respond.

She sits there as the trainer fucks silivre escort Nadia a second time, this time sitting in one of the chairs and pulling her onto his lap. He rubs her clit, smirking at Angela as he does, like it’s some kind of joke between them.

Nadia gasps and wriggles and bounces on his cock, alternating between loudly professing how much she loves to be fucked by him and lapsing into eerie, tense silences where she seems so overcome by the sensation of having her clit rubbed while being fucked that she’s practically unable to function, her mouth falling open into a drooling gape as her eyes roll so far back in her head that only the whites are visible.

“Bad girl,” he says eventually, and she shrieks in pain and nearly topples off of him as she loses control, her body scrambling to try and escape the agony; he holds her in place and hums with pleasure, and then, when she goes lax, he still hasn’t finished, so he rubs her clit for a few more seconds–“Oh, doesn’t that make you shake so nicely, right after,” he remarks–and then he gives the pain command again, and by the time he finally groans and spills into her, Nadia has passed out in his arms, twitching in small spasms like she’s been shocked.

He tips her into a chair and leaves her there, sprawled out and drooling his semen from her wet cunt, and then stands to collect Angela.

Angela goes. She returns, silent and cowed, to her room.

She doesn’t see Nadia again. For the remainder of her training, Angela is alone.

***

Ben retrieves his wife from the training facility four months after their arrival on Chime Station.

It’s a bit longer than he’d expected the training to take, but he can’t argue with the results. The new Angela is sweet and biddable, following any order given to her as well as she can. There’s no resentment, either, when she looks at him.

In fact, there’s no real recognition at all–only a vapid eagerness to please, and occasionally a vague confusion, like she’s trying to remember the lyrics of a song in her head.

He’s barely able to wait to get back to his little studio apartment before he fucks her. It’s fantastic; she’s soaking wet for him, no preparation necessary, and she milks his cock with her desperate cunt. She makes the most fantastic noises, noises that his wife would have been too proud to make before–animal squeals and whimpers, long moans of pleasure, little gasps of need when he fiddles with the heavy ring piercing her clitoral hood.

She has piercings in her nipples, too, all installed as part of the training. After he finishes fucking her–and comes harder than he has in months of making do with his hand and the impersonal hot cunts available in the pleasure stable stalls–he instructs her to play with those, and she does, kneeling in the corner of the room and tugging gently at the rings until her mouth is hanging open in a gaping O-shape and she’s dripping a puddle of slick and seed onto the floor under her.

Ben finds her lovely like that. Decorative, really. He could watch her for hours; whenever her clit twitches, the little ring attached to it shifts, catching the light. The thin, shuddering whimpers that come from her mouth are lovely to listen to, too.

It’s a bit of a distraction from his work, but that’s fine. He’s wrapping things up, anyways–encrypting all of his files, all of the notes he’s been taking over the past few months: a collection of first-hand impressions of Chime Station, as well as facts he’s been able to uncover by making friends with various men in particular positions.

He takes a break to watch Angela.

Her clit gives several big twitches and then a small dribble of fluid runs down her leg, her breathing shaking.

He smirks. “How are you doing over there, babe? Need anything?”

She just blinks at him, her mouth working silently on nonsense syllables as she twists and tugs at her nipple piercings.

Not long after, he fucks her again, this time pinning her down in bed and rubbing her clit firmly so that she does all the work, squirming and clenching on him as her body winds up tighter and tighter in preparation of an orgasm that he doesn’t allow her to have.

When he finishes and pulls out, she trembles uncontrollably, looking helplessly confused, so he slaps her pussy until she squirts, whimpering in pitiful confusion as if she can’t quite remember what it is that she really wants, what would make her feel satisfied.

After, she falls asleep in the damp spot, seeming barely aware of the mess.

***

A week later, Ben and Angela leave Chime Station.

Women aren’t supposed to ever leave the station, of course. That’s the first challenge.

But Angela is so good now, so obedient. Ben folds her into a suitcase with a layer of heavy material, which he’s calculated to be thick enough to block x-rays and biometric scanning, as well as the tracking signal given off by the implant in her clit. He puts an oxygen mask on her face, hooked up to a small tank with more than enough air for the time she’ll need to stay in there, and then packs clothes on top of her for good measure.

He also puts a vibrator up her cunt, but that’s just for his own amusement. It doesn’t matter if she ruins the clothes; he’ll soon be rich enough off this story to buy an entire new wardrobe.

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