Urban
patreon
A different kind of mission - Chapter 12
🕑 Added 2022-04-12 12:30:00 +0000 UTCThe Mission - Part 2
OTHER CHARTERS | ALL STORY LIST
"Connie," Constance whispered, "Connie, wake up."
When the sleeping girl’s face turned toward the dim light from the hallway, it could be seen that she was still as beautiful as the standards set for harem slaves. The damage to her had been kept away from her face. If she healed, it would be to once again take her helpless place in the harem. More importantly, it could be seen that her face was a mirror of the one bending over her. She was the image of Constance, so similar that it could be seen in an instant that they must be twins. In another instant, though, you could see that they weren’t quite twins. The Connie that was lying down was somehow softer than the one leaning over her. Her face had more gentle curves, still elegant, but not quite as sharply featured. Her chin was a more delicate pixie point, her neck just a bit more slender and swan-like. It took a minute for her eyes to focus on the face bending over her. When they did, she jerked back.
"Who are you?" she demanded, whispering rather than shouting out of some reflexive concurrence with the tension in Constance.
Who wasn’t really Constance? The most elegant member of the assault team smiled and in a voice that none of the team had ever heard said, "What’s the matter, Connie, don’t you recognize your own brother?"
"Daniel? What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?"
"I’ve come to get you out. There’s no other way to move around in here, so I decided to become you. I’ve got some friends to help us, the ones you’ve been sending your data to. Now, can you move?"
"For a chance to get out of this hellhole, I’ll fly," the real Connie said, but she winced as she tried to sit up.
Daniel helped her to her feet, asking, "What did you do to get punished?"
"Well, you know I’ve been making minor infractions in order to get assigned chain-girl duty so I could see what goes on inside. I left my hair disheveled this morning thinking I’d get another stint in the lab. Instead, that Skuda bitch decided I needed more of a lesson. I think she broke two of my ribs."
With the help of her disguised brother, she gingerly rose to her feet. With broken ribs, he couldn’t even lift her, or throw her arm over his slender shoulders. He could just offer her an arm to lean on as much as she could. They made their slow way back through the rooms Constance, that is Daniel, had traversed so quickly, eventually coming once again to the ante-room to the biowar lab. The real Connie slumped to the floor out of sight, and Constance was back on guard.
Inside the lab, the team had reached the portal to the germ storage facility. Another blindfolded chain girl guarded the entrance, but her hands were not concealed in a mitten. They were bound with wide cuffs behind her back and her elbows were pulled together with a strap-like that used on new captives. Her knees were splayed around a small stool that was partially hidden by a widely-draped skirt, her only clothing. Silent glances among the team members revealed no obvious explanation, so Marilyn once again approached the strangely-erect captive. Her mouth was already at an appropriate level so Marilyn brushed her renewed erection against the full lips of the bound girl. In a motion so fast it had to be a reflex more than conscious thought, the lips of the girl surrounded Marilyn’s member and started an action made perverse by the circumstances, regardless of how loving it could be in other worlds. In moments, the team commander’s virility was again demonstrated and the door began to open, without any movement of the girl’s hands. They could see her slump a little, though, as the door revolved. Marilyn passed through quickly and Vanna, who had managed to conceal the replacement vial within her upswept hairdo took her place.
The chain girl's slump had returned to that strange erectness as the door of the airlock cycled shut again and she performed her unwilling duty on the second team member. Vanna was finished quickly, it would take all the team a little while to regain the skills as true lovers after these mechanical experiences, and she was soon in the doorway, once again activated in some way they couldn’t determine. It was as Jaymi stepped up to take her place that the problem occurred.
The girl seemed to gag on Jaymi’s erection, rather than just accepting it. She struggled back with her head, still strangely stiff throughout her body, until Jaymi stepped back.
"Who are you?" demanded the blindfolded girl. When she received no answer she asked again, "Who are you. I know you’re not Maximum Leader, and he told me that if ever more than two men tried to pass and he was not one of them, that I was to yell for help."
"That tears it," Carol whispered.
Sandy looked at the girl more closely. The green-eyed brunette had noticed that the girl wasn’t yelling, just demanding an explanation. She probably didn’t want to yell for help but was afraid not to say anything in case this was some sort of a test. They had two choices, they could enlist her help, or they could render her unconscious, and they still didn’t know how the door was being worked.
"Listen," Sandy whispered, "we’re here to get you out. We need something from inside this lab, then we’ll take you with us if you’ll help."
"We’ll all be killed," gasped the girl, but she still didn’t raise her voice.
"Not if you do what you’re told," Sandy insisted. "Now, we need to let another of us into the room. Can you just release the door?"
"I don’t think so. The trigger is my, well is in my, um, well, there’s a thing stuck up inside of me, and when I suck a guy off, I squeeze. They told me if I just squeeze without the right reason, they’ll kill me."
"There’s no one here but us, and we’re here to help. Just let our person pass, and we’ll work on getting you out of here."
"No, I still don’t trust you. No one gets by that doesn’t, well, you know."
"All right, then, do it," Sandy said in disgust at the poor girl’s confusion. Here she was involved in the ultimate disobedience, yet clung to small obediences as though that would make a difference if she were caught. It didn’t make any sense, at least, not to those who had so far escaped the depravity of Maximum Leader’s training methods. Nonetheless, Jaymi stepped back into position and was soon paying the necessary toll.
Once she was inside, she quickly explained to Marilyn what was going on. There wasn’t a corresponding chain-girl on the inside of the doorway, but there was enough of a passageway between the inner and outer doors of the airlock to guarantee no one could trip the exit door, then return inside. When no one else came through the door immediately, Marilyn realized that Sandy and Carol were going to stay outside while the inner team worked to extract the deadly culture. That wasn’t quite the plan, but taking care of the guard girl was probably the right priority for them. She wished she had Sandy’s help deciphering some of the signs to make sure they found the right agents, though. In a few minutes, she had decided which cabinet held the key virus and Jaymi was making short work of the lock. Vanna switched the vials, no one but Marilyn realizing how much work had gone into having a correct-looking replacement. The other two were so used to Marilyn’s miracles they didn’t give it a thought. In a few more minutes, they were exiting the inner lab.
"Boss, we’ve got a problem," Sandy began, using an unaccustomed masculine tone of voice. "This station is different from the rest. The girl here, her name is Jennifer, is held to her stool by an inflatable dong that swells up inside her when the door cycles and traps her in place. It deflates when she squeezes the infernal thing hard enough, but she won’t do it unless someone feeds her. The way I see it is this. We need to trip her one more time (Sandy was talking of the poor girl as though she were as mechanical as she acted), and then get her off her throne. One of us will have to take her place or she’ll talk, sooner or later. Whoever takes her place will be stuck here until a replacement arrives, squatting with whatever that thing is inside her."
"Now, guess which one of us gets that pleasant duty," Sandy’s tone was light, but there was a lurking horror in her eyes. The team members looked at the blindfolded chain girl and saw long, dark hair that only Sandy also possessed. Her curves were also a bit more developed than any of the team except Sandy. The blindfold would hide enough of Sandy’s face that it was possible she could replace Jennifer, but clearly not possible for any of the others to do so.
"I can’t ask you to do that," Marilyn declared.
"I know, so I’m volunteering," Sandy said, now only the words seeming to be light-hearted, even her tone was betraying the dread she was trying to conceal. There was only one possible way for one of the team members to take that device inside herself while sitting on the stool, and it wasn’t up a slickly-lubricated woman’s vagina. Of all the team, only Sandy had a chance as a convincing replacement, but only Sandy had been penetrated anally in an ugly, demeaning, nearly deadly rape. The scar tissue in her tortured bottom would never again stretch without pain and she would surely be stretched by a mechanical device that wasn’t constrained by merely human dimensions. A shudder too heartfelt to hide shook her slender body, sending ripples through her long hair that accented it far beyond the amount necessary to show her concern to her sensitive teammates. But she squared her shoulders in something reminiscent of coming to attention, then stepped before Jennifer.
"All right, sister, do your thing. When you’re done, get off that pole and I’ll take your place."
The fear she felt at what was to come almost prevented Sandy from succeeding at the interim task, and she was afraid she’d have to ask for another to pay the toll, but in Jennifer’s confused mind this was her responsibility, and she managed to find a rhythm that worked for the young soldier. Or perhaps her realization that this was necessary to get her released from her position gave her added incentive. In any event, Sandy was soon doing what was required. When Jennifer left her seat, the device that was placed in the center of the stool didn’t look too bad, a bit larger than a thick finger. It was at least somewhat lubricated by Jennifer’s juices, though she had long past ceased to be stimulated by it.
"How much bigger does this thing get?" Sandy asked.
"Quite a bit," Jennifer answered nonchalantly, no longer personally involved.
"Oh joy," sighed Sandy, then moved over the disgusting device. She had removed her top and was already wearing Jennifer’s uniquely wide skirt. Lifting the skirt clear of the protruding member on the stool, she slowly lowered herself down onto the perverse bondage implement. She struggled to make her tormented muscles relax and accept the thing, but it took a long time before she felt the stool under her violated bottom.
"How is it?" Marilyn couldn’t help asking.
"Not too bad," declared Sandy with a feeble attempt at a reassuring smile. "Somebody trip the door and then you guys get out of here."
When the door started to close, the mechanical phallus inside Sandy started to grow, and to grow, and to grow. At first, she just closed her eyes and tried to maintain an outwardly calm demeanor. As it grew, so did her pain. Soon it was too much to contain and she grunted out a small sound of dismay, then a harsher moan, then a desperate gasp as inelastic scars pulled away from softer tissue. Hidden beneath her skirt, the first drops of blood began to leak down.
"Marilyn," Sandy whispered, "promise me that you’ll get out of here. Don’t wait for me, just go. I need to know this will be worthwhile."
"We’ll make it," Marilyn promised. "All of us will make it."
Sandy’s eyes were closed in her attempt to marshal her strength against the suffering she had chosen to accept. She didn’t see the look of fierce determination in Marilyn’s eyes, nor the equally adamant nods from her teammates. There was no way the team would leave without her. Without hesitation now that they were committed, Marilyn got the team ready to proceed.
"Carol, you figure out some way to control Jennifer. I want her bound, blindfolded, and gagged. She might give us away at any time. Jaymi, you switch her bonds to Sandy. Make sure you get them tight enough to look right. Sorry, Sandy."
Sandy nodded absently, still consumed with her internal torment. The device had grown within her until she had no choice but to hold her lower body stiff and erect. When Jaymi reluctantly bound her wrists and cinched the elbow strap tight, the full extent of the bondage became apparent. With her elbows and shoulders pulled cruelly back and her lower body rigid, Sandy had no choice but to sit primly erect, as though eager to fulfill her duty. The blindfold was placed over her still-shut eyes and she descended even deeper into dark damnation.
The rest of the team plus their captive moved quickly back to the entrance to the biowar lab and cycled out through the airlock. Along the way, Marilyn had Carol steal a guard’s uniform. Outside, they met the one they knew as Constance. A brief flicker of a glance from Marilyn and an even briefer nod from Constance passed a communication the others didn’t even know to look for. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize the situation from inside, one unknown girl was bound and gagged, one team member missing. Yet it was just as obvious to Constance that the team had succeeded in their primary mission, otherwise they wouldn’t have come out at all.
Silently, Marilyn motioned them away from the helpless guard-girl and when they were in a private place gave her orders, "Carol, you put Jennifer somewhere safe. We’ll be taking her with us, but I don’t trust her at all. We’re going to have to find a replacement for Sandy and get her into position."
"There’s no time," Jaymi complained. "They’re going to be moving around in there in less than ten minutes."
"I know, Sandy will just have to wait until we can work something out," Marilyn replied with just enough asperity in her voice to remind the team that she was concerned about their missing teammate, too.
No one knew what Sandy suffered while she waited. No one else had to endure it and so gain first-hand knowledge of the ordeal. But in a larger sense, no one else could have understood even if afflicted with the same torture. Only Sandy had experienced the brutal anal rape that had so scarred her heart and her soul with trauma. The screeches of pain from her tortured rectum ripped through her body with every pulse of her heart. The drip of blood lowered her defenses still further, weakening her when she needed all her strength. Still, she endured. She survived. Her mind tried to retreat into another world, and that of any of her teammates might have done so. But the very trauma that made this so terrible for Sandy also may have saved her. Sandy had passed through this fire already, once. Some kernel of sanity held her together with the knowledge that she had survived this, and could do so again. Her mind danced along the borderlines of reality with thoughts of cosmic predestination, as though forces greater than human had forged her for this moment of truth, where the fate of all life hung in the balance on her ability to use the temper of her previous experience to combat the conflagration of this ordeal. Then another shriek of pain would pass and she couldn’t think at all. Her world drew in as it had done before, awareness leaking away even as the lights began to come up outside her covered eyes.
Only a tentative thread of connection to this world remained when she heard footsteps nearby. They had the characteristic clomp of masculine feet in masculine shoes so she knew it was not her teammates with a rescue. Despair warred with panic for control of her being but the adrenaline surge that resulted also cleared her mind and she showed no outward sign of her inner turmoil. The footsteps closed and paused nearby.
"Ah, Maximum Leader, this one is even more beautiful than the last. Is she new?" a voice asked with a curious mixture of respect and fear that the speaker was trying to disguise with outward casualness.
"What? Oh, I don’t know. I just specified lots of dark hair and lots of soft curves for today. She seems adequate in that respect. Tomorrow I may specify curly blonde hair and perhaps bigger nipples. This one seems a bit disappointing in that area, don’t you think?" This voice was nasal, with an undertone of a shrill whine like an overheating bearing. They spoke in the language of Maximum Leader’s country, ignoring the captive girl as though she were only a machine, a pretty machine, but not one with a mind inside.
"Ah, Maximum Leader, none of those who worship you are disappointing. This little jewel is magnificent."
"Perhaps I’ll let you have her after I am done with her. Now that you mention it, I don’t seem to remember her. She seems western, perhaps one of those cursed Americans. I especially enjoy my time with American girls, they’re so unused to suffering."
Switching to English, he spoke directly to Sandy, "You, girl, do you speak English?"
