experimenter73
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Dec 27, 2021
- Location
- Maine, United States
Chapter Two: Packaging
Maise began to wake to the sensation of something firm and cool being closed around her throat. Her head ached, a pounding in her skull, as her eyelids slowly began to flutter. Through the haze, she heard the sound of a metallic click and then a mechanical whirring sound, followed by a low humming noise.
Suddenly, the events of the day caught up to her. Eyes flashing open, she looked out of a wide doorway on what appeared to be a rooftop. She moved quickly to press herself upward, calling up her power. To her shock, she felt nothing change. The world continued to move onward at its normal pace.
"This one's waking up,"a gruff voice announced.
Having barely lifted herself off the floor, Maise suddenly felt a dozen hands on her body, pressing her back down onto her stomach on the floor. She cried out in pain as one of them yanked hard on her braid, turning her head sharply to look into the eyes of a masked man as he squatted down to her level.
"Listen up Pocahontas," he growled menacingly. "You might think you're pretty tough, but that nullifier collar and the cuffs we're about to lock you in were designed to restrain a much stronger princess than you. So just settle down."
"No, get off me!" Maise screamed, trashing with all her strength against the hold of the men.
"Last warning, Princess," the man hissed menacingly, sending an icy chill down Maise's spine. "After what you did to my team, I am just itching for a little payback. This already isn't going to be a nice trip for you. No need to make it nasty. Got it?"
While she stared back, wide-eyed, at the man, Maise felt her arms yanked back behind her. Heart pounding in her chest, she did not resist as hands were forced into the shape of fists. She felt them pressed inside a smooth metal tube. Right before the point where they should have touched behind her, there were a pair of clicks and another metallic whir. The material around her hands and arms seemed to compress. She felt metal bands within the tube wrapping around her wrists and forearms, squeezing them tightly and filling all of the empty space around them. When they finished, it was as though her arms were welded in place behind her back. It felt as though the entirety of both of her forearms were enclosed in the solid metal.
"Wh-where are you me?" Maise asked softly. She hated how small her voice sounded as she stammered. The weight of the restraints on her arms and throat felt oppressive, somehow seeming to be heavier than the metal they were made from should be. She struggled to breathe as the weight of them pressed her chest down into the floor.
"You busted up our little party, Pocahontas, and definitely not in the way the boss planned," he chuckled. "But we're packaging you two up anyways. Better than leaving empty handed."
Maise felt hands on her legs, drawing them out behind her. And then more of the restraints were closed around her ankles, clicking and whirring. She tried again, futilely, to call up her power, but there was no response. It was as though the events of the last couple weeks had been a dream, and she had now woken into a nightmare.
"Good talk, Princess," the man spoke, and then she felt his hands on her face, squeezing her cheeks and forcing her mouth open. A moment later, a thick rubber ball was thrust between her lips. Someone pulled back hard on its leather straps, driving it within until it wedged back behind her teeth to force her jaw wide. The straps bit into the corners of her lips as it was buckled in place. Then the world plunged into darkness as a padded leather blindfold was pressed over her eyes.
"Hey, Pocahontas," another voice whispered in her ear. The touch of his hot breath on her lobe sent a shiver down her spine. "The boss said he wasn't going to go for a little payback if you didn't fight. But I didn't say nothing like that."
Maise cried out as she felt another tug on her long braid, pulling her head back. She felt her cuffed hands pulled up further behind her back as well. When the tugging and pulling stopped, she lowered her head once more and then immediately felt the pull on her bound hands behind her. The bastard had tied her braid to the cuffs, she realized.
She heard the sound of a powerful motor coming to life and the sound of rushing air. Only then did she realize that the view she'd had earlier was out onto the rooftop through the open door of the helicopter that she was lying in. A moment later, she felt her stomach drop as it lifted off. The grating sound of a heavy door closing filled the small confines and then the sounds of rushing air and rotating blades became muted.
Lying on the floor under the weight of her restraints, Maise felt the men release her as the helicopter lifted up off the ground. At once, she tried to rise from her stomach, but she quickly learned that the collar and ankle cuffs were attached to the floor in some unseen way, preventing her from rising. As she twisted back and forth in her bonds with each movement of the chopper, her mind replayed the moments of the day since the alert had interrupted her convesation with Jade. She found herself focusing on the way she had let the other girl convince her to make the trip at all. She should have left it to the authorities. She'd known she wasn't ready for this.
But then again, she had saved those people, hadn't she? In her misery, she tried to focus on that fact. But her mind would not allow it, replaying over and over her initial clumsiness in the fight with the men. If she had been more efficient, would she have had the strength to deal with the canister grenade? Could she have saved them both from whatever these men had in store for them?
As if its owner could read her mind, a hand came to rest on the small of Maise's back. At first it seemed to be nothing more than a stabilizing presence, stopping her from flopping as much with each shift in the helicopter's course. When the second hand joined it, however, the purpose of the contact became clear. It came to rest on her bottom, slipping up beneath the fringed hem of her costume to press its fingers into the firm globe of her ass.
"Unngghhh!" she cried out into the gag, trying unsuccessfully to squirm away from the contact.
"Definitely not the cargo we thought we'd be bringing back," one of the men spoke.
Maise grunted as she felt a hand on her shoulder, lifting it slightly off the floor and twisting her body. The hand on her ass continued to move, slipping fully beneath her costume now to fully grip her bare ass cheek, squeezing and groping it.
"But pretty in her own way, right?" another voice asked.
Maise felt her belly knot up in fear as a pair of hands moved to where her chest had been lifted from the floor. She tried desperately to squirm away as questing fingers slipped beneath the top of her costume to find her breast beneath. Between the attachment of the collar and the hold of the man pulling back on her shoulder, she was left no room to move.
"Yeah, I think she's exotic," a voice in front of her spoke.
Hot tears stung Maise's eyes, held in place there by the blindfold, as she felt the material of her costume and strapless bra beneath moved aside to bare her small, firm breast. She tensed, breathing out sharply through her nose when a pair of fingers began to play with her nipple.
"Hey, get a picture of this," the voice in front of her spoke again.
Maise cried out into the gag as she felt those fingers pinch down hard on the base of her nipple and began to pull. Panting hard through flared nostrils, she arched her back as much as her bonds would allow to try and avoid some of the wicked pull on her sensitive flesh.
"Lick it," another voice said. "That's be a great pic."
Maise's cheeks burned flush with humiliation when the wet tongue make contact with her stretched nipple. Tongue tip played across her flesh like wet fire while she squirmed, fighting to hold back the sobs that threatened to consume her. It seemed impossible, almost as if it must be happening to someone else.
"Oh, I've got an idea," another voice spoke excitedly.
Maise tried to focus her attention within, to ignore the men and their hands on her body. She could hear the electronic clicks of their cameras as they explored and exposed her body, each coming up with new ways to pose with her. She realized that she had not heard any sign of Jade since waking. Was the other girl still asleep? Was she on a different helicopter? Was she actually present and just unable to speak? Maise felt a new shudder of revulsion at the thought that the redhead might be witnessing what was being done to her.
Though she was doing her best to ignore what was being done to her, a new instruder quickly grabbed her attention. She felt the hand slip inside the front of her costume, moving insistently beneath first the outer bodice and then into her panties beneath. Fingers played along the line of her pussy lips, making her squeeze her eyes shut behind the blindfold and bite down hard on the rubber ball in her mouth.
"Getting close, boys," a new voice spoke. "Time to get things packed back up."
At the man's announcement, Maise felt the hand on her nether lips give her most intimate flesh a firm squeeze. It and the other hands then began to retreat from her body, setting the misplaced pieces of her costume back in place as they left.
"I can't wait to post some of these to the message board," a man chuckled. "I mean, like I said, not what we signed up for, but still not bad."
She felt the helicopter set down and then the men were lifting and carrying her out. They placed her back down on her feet. Standing, the weight of the restraints was even more oppressive, and she struggled to stay aloft, knees wobbling. One rough hand on each arm, the men dragged her with them through the darkness beyond her covered eyes. She struggled to walk, but the short chain combined with the weight of the fetters left her unable to keep up.
She felt the air around her change as they travelled, obviously passing from the outside world to the climate controlled interior of a building. The men were silent as they brought her through twists and turns. Finally, they paused for a moment and she heard the sound of a door opening. They travelled another short distance before stopping again. Maise heard a click and felt a light tug on the collar around her neck, followed by a light tug to the restraints on her ankles.
Suddenly, the mens' hands left her arms and the blindfold was pulled away. She blinked rapidly at the sudden light in the room, eyes trying to adjust. Without their support, she began to fall under the sudden need to support herself and the weight of the restraints. She felt herself caught by her collar. As her vision returned, she saw a cable running from it up to the ceiling of the room.
Turning slowly, carefully, Maise surveyed the small room in which she found herself. It was no more than 10 feet square. She was standing in the center of it and turned in time to see the men leave the room and close its steel door behind them. Looking down, she saw the cuffs on her ankles for the first time. The restraints were even bigger than they felt, massive constructions of gleaming chrome with a short cable between them. That cable was, in turn, run through a ring protruding from the floor. She lifted one foot experimentally, wincing at the weight of the thing against her slender ankle bone.
Looking back upward, she continued her turn. Her eyes passed over a simple metal desk with a leather office chair behind it. On the wall next to the door, there was a floor to ceiling mirror. The sight of herself in the mirror sent a chill down her spine.
Her eyes were wide over the thick white rubber ball that split her lips. Her chin was wet, glistening from the drool that had slipped past the rubber gag. The collar was a massive construct, gleaming chrome like the cuffs on her ankles. The cable from the ceiling did, as she'd suspected, connect to the front of it. Turning slightly, she could see that her unseen assailant on the helicopter had, in fact, tied her braid around the center of the heavy metal tube that contained her hands and forearms.
Maise jumped as she heard the door to the room suddenly open. She turned awkwardly to see a woman step into the room, carrying a tablet. In stark contrast to the men in their paramilitary uniforms, this woman was dressed casually, as though she had just woken up and was still working on her first cup of coffee. Her blond hair was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail and she wore loose gray sweatpants and an unzipped hoodie sweatshirt, a pink t-shirt underneath. The soles of her athletic shoes squeaked softly on the floor as she walked, breaking the silence.
Walking over to Maise, the woman shoved the tablet into the waistband of her sweats and then reached up to unbuckle the gag. Maise groaned as the thick rubber was pulled free of her lips, a tendril of her drool following it for a moment before breaking and slapping on her chin. She slowly worked her jaw, feeling it threaten to cramp.
"Th-thank you," Maise spoke softly, her voice hoarse. It felt a silly thing to say, but the woman's silence was unnerving, and she seemed different than the men who had brought her here.
Without speaking, the woman reached down to tuck the leather strap of the gag into the waistline of her sweatpants, leaving the wet leather ball to hang down in front of her crotch. And then she pulled out the tablet and moved over to the desk, sitting down in the chair. She leaned back, propping her feet up on the desk and crossing her ankles while she tapped at the screen of the tablet.
"Wh-who are you?" Maise asked. "What do you-"
Maise's question was cut off by the sudden whirring sound of a pulley, followed by a sharp tug to the cable from her collar. She cried out in surprise as the pull of it yanked her up onto her toes, feeling the metal press so insistently against her throat. She whimpered softly, trying to keep her balance as she drove the toes of her ankle boots into the floor to try and keep the pressure off her neck.
"You don't know me," the woman said without looking up from the tablet. "We don't have a history, yet. So you don't have any way of knowing that I am, at this moment, a simmering cauldron of rage just looking for an outlet."
The woman looked up, her face still almost entirely expressionless despite her words. Maise met the woman's steel gray gaze and felt a chill run down her spine.
"But you know that now," the woman offered the faintest of smiles and then tapped the screen on the tablet once more. Maise gasped in relief as the cable lowered slightly, still keeping some pressure on the collar, but at least allowing her to place her soles firmly on the floor once more. "And that's why you're going to be quiet as a church mouse. You will speak only to answer the questions I ask you."
Biting her lip, Maise tried to steady her breathing. Her chest rose and fell quickly behind her top with each breath as she struggled to keep herself from crying. She sniffed hard, feeling the tears beginning to well in her eyes. Her body shook softly as the first sob welled up and wracked her form. She felt a tear slip from her eye to roll down her cheek.
"So then, who the hell are you?" the woman asked, finally looking up from the tablet. "I've searched every metahuman database I can hack into, and I'm coming up empty."
"I'm Ma-" she began and then cut herself off, sniffing again before trying to stand up a bit more proudly. "I'm Shawnee. I'm with the Sentinels."
"Oh God," the woman laughed, a genuine smile filled with mirth, overtaking her features. "Did you just almost tell me your real name? My my, you are a green one, aren't you?"
Maise bit her lower lip, turning her gaze away from the smiling woman.
"So then, Shawnee, you're clearly telling me the truth about being with the Sentinels, because I don't believe you'd have been able to hack in and get the special message that I sent just for them. But you're also clearly terribly inexperienced, which means you must be part of that new training program they started up," the woman sighed. "It was a risk I took, sending them such a low-level threat warning. But it was my hope that a certain special someone would be the one to answer the call, since she has the speed, and that she'd come alone, since it wasn't a big threat. Now, imagine my surprise when my little net just brings in the two of you."
"Don't worry," Maise said softly, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "You'll get your chance soon enough. You know they wouldn't just send us out without watching, right? Rookies like us? They'll be crashing in here any minute now."
"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" the woman asked, tapping on the tablet again. "But since you arrived, I've had no sign of anything from them. My scanners are very good, too, and there's no sign of them or anything else anywhere near us. So tell me, did you and your friend jump curfew?"
"They'll be here," Maise responded, speaking more to herself than the woman.
"What's your friend's name?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?"
"It's always tricky with these magic user types," the woman smiled again. "You let them talk and people start turning into frogs. We'll be just keeping her gagged, thank you very much. But you get to be her voice. So, her name?"
"It's Jade," Maise answered, a part of her feeling like she was betraying the sorceress somehow.
"Well, something matches the outfit at least," the woman tapped on the tablet. "What's the deal with that, anyways? Why does an Irish Ginger dress like that and call herself Jade?"
"I don't know," Maise said softly. "We haven't had our first tell-all slumber party yet."
"Oh, that's good," the woman grinned wryly. "With all that sniffling earlier, I was worried that you might not have any fight in you."
"Take off these cuffs, and I'll show you how much fight I have in me," Maise let out a sharp breath as she spoke.
"But of course we will, pet," the woman laughed. "Those nullifier restraints are certainly not necessary. It's a tremendous waste of resources just having them powered up on a C-list trainee like you. We'll remedy that shortly and get you into something much more appropriate."
Maise swallowed hard, feeling the collar seem to tighten around her throat. The thought of having her restraints removed was appealing, but there was something ominous about the way the woman said 'something much more appropriate' that definitely worried her.
"How old are you, princess?" the woman asked, tapping at the tablet screen again.
"None of your business," Maise answered firmly.
Without looking up, the woman tapped the tablet screen. At once, Maise felt a brutal shock rip through her body, emanating from the collar. The sudden surge made her body immediately tense, back arching as her mouth opened in a silent scream. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving Maise quivering in pain, trembling visibly as she struggled to regain her footing.
"How old are you, princess?" the woman repeated, no change to her voice.
"I'm," Maise began softly, sniffing again. "I'm nineteen."
"And how old is Jade?" the blonde asked.
"I don't know," Maise answered, then quickly added. "Really, I don't. We only just met. I think she's older than me, but that's just a guess."
The woman looked up from the tablet, meeting Maise's eyes once more with that steely gaze. Her finger hovered over the tablet screen for a moment and Maise tensed in anticipation of the shock, toes curling in her boots. But none came. When the woman turned back to manipulating the tablet screen, Maise let out a soft sigh of relief.
"Shawnee, huh?" the woman asked. "Are you an actual member of the tribe? I'd hope so, because Apache or Comanchee would have definitely been more impressive names."
"Yes, I'm a member," Maise answered softly.
"So, Shawnee, let me explain how this is going to work," the woman spoke, pulling her feet down off the desk and standing. She tucked the tablet back into the waistband of her sweats. "I'm going to take a few moments to gather myself. I'm going to get all zen and shit and figure out how to recover from the massive outlay of time and energy I've waisted on this operation that you and your friend decided to fuck up."
The woman moved around the desk and came to stand directly before Maise. Reaching out, she placed a hand on the bound girl's bare hip, fingernails playing lightly along her flesh and sending up goosebumps in their wake. The woman's other hand reached up behind Maise and pulled down on her cuffed hands. Maise felt the tug on her braid, forcing her to look upward.
"The boys must have been really pissed at you to get this creative," the woman chuckled. "They're normally so unimaginative."
"They're sick," Maise hissed, staring up along the length of the cable above her.
"If you think they're sick, you are in for quite the rude awakening," the woman slowly released the pressure on Maise's cuffs as she spoke. Though she was free to do so once more, Maise did not make eye contact with the woman, simply staring into space.
"Then, because I'm a big girl, I'm going to get dressed for work," the woman smiled. "Just like you did, right? You put on your special new outfit and came out to fight crime."
Maise nodded numbly in response, feeling her belly knot up as the woman's other hand came to rest on her other hip.
"But before I go do the boring work stuff, I have a special opportunity," the woman yanked on Maise's hips, forcing her up onto her toes again and pulling her body forward. "You see, because I'm the boss, and I don't always have to do the day-to-day stuff."
Maise's breathing quickened, chest heaving behind her supple leather top as the woman spoke menacingly, continuing to keep her pulled forward in her grip. She turned her eyes to find the woman's, searching for some sign of mercy in them.
"So, I'm going to treat myself. I'm going to take a couple days to get all my frustrations out on you and your pretty friend. I'm going to get to know you very, very intimately, and I'm going to," the woman paused for a moment there, holding Maise's gaze. The grin left the woman's face, her expression earnest. "Well, to be quite frank, Princess, I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you like you've never been hurt before. You're going to suffer and scream and cry and beg. And then we're going to begin all over again."
Maise felt her stomach drop at the woman's words, so calmly speaking of such horrible things. She opened her mouth to speak, but could not find her voice. The woman's fingers moved back over Maise's ass, gripping it firmly for a moment. And then the hands released her and Maise staggered back into balance.
The door to the room opened. Maise expected to see more of the militant men who had brought her here. Instead, her eyes went wide at the sight of the two figures that entered the room. They were either robots or men entirely enclosed in powered armor of some kind. They were bulky and obviously heavy, but they moved more gracefully than Maise expected as they came to stand one on either side of the bound girl. She felt their firm grips on her upper arms.
"Pawns, I am sending you detailed instructions on the method of transport and destination for our pretty little squaw here," the woman pulled out the tablet again, tapping the screen. "Be as gentle with her as her level of compliance allows. She has a long night ahead of her."
"Affirmative, Mistress," a pair of robotic voices replied in unison.
Maise felt the cables from the floor and ceiling detach from her restraints, and then the woman turned and left, leaving her in the care of the pawns.
Maise began to wake to the sensation of something firm and cool being closed around her throat. Her head ached, a pounding in her skull, as her eyelids slowly began to flutter. Through the haze, she heard the sound of a metallic click and then a mechanical whirring sound, followed by a low humming noise.
Suddenly, the events of the day caught up to her. Eyes flashing open, she looked out of a wide doorway on what appeared to be a rooftop. She moved quickly to press herself upward, calling up her power. To her shock, she felt nothing change. The world continued to move onward at its normal pace.
"This one's waking up,"a gruff voice announced.
Having barely lifted herself off the floor, Maise suddenly felt a dozen hands on her body, pressing her back down onto her stomach on the floor. She cried out in pain as one of them yanked hard on her braid, turning her head sharply to look into the eyes of a masked man as he squatted down to her level.
"Listen up Pocahontas," he growled menacingly. "You might think you're pretty tough, but that nullifier collar and the cuffs we're about to lock you in were designed to restrain a much stronger princess than you. So just settle down."
"No, get off me!" Maise screamed, trashing with all her strength against the hold of the men.
"Last warning, Princess," the man hissed menacingly, sending an icy chill down Maise's spine. "After what you did to my team, I am just itching for a little payback. This already isn't going to be a nice trip for you. No need to make it nasty. Got it?"
While she stared back, wide-eyed, at the man, Maise felt her arms yanked back behind her. Heart pounding in her chest, she did not resist as hands were forced into the shape of fists. She felt them pressed inside a smooth metal tube. Right before the point where they should have touched behind her, there were a pair of clicks and another metallic whir. The material around her hands and arms seemed to compress. She felt metal bands within the tube wrapping around her wrists and forearms, squeezing them tightly and filling all of the empty space around them. When they finished, it was as though her arms were welded in place behind her back. It felt as though the entirety of both of her forearms were enclosed in the solid metal.
"Wh-where are you me?" Maise asked softly. She hated how small her voice sounded as she stammered. The weight of the restraints on her arms and throat felt oppressive, somehow seeming to be heavier than the metal they were made from should be. She struggled to breathe as the weight of them pressed her chest down into the floor.
"You busted up our little party, Pocahontas, and definitely not in the way the boss planned," he chuckled. "But we're packaging you two up anyways. Better than leaving empty handed."
Maise felt hands on her legs, drawing them out behind her. And then more of the restraints were closed around her ankles, clicking and whirring. She tried again, futilely, to call up her power, but there was no response. It was as though the events of the last couple weeks had been a dream, and she had now woken into a nightmare.
"Good talk, Princess," the man spoke, and then she felt his hands on her face, squeezing her cheeks and forcing her mouth open. A moment later, a thick rubber ball was thrust between her lips. Someone pulled back hard on its leather straps, driving it within until it wedged back behind her teeth to force her jaw wide. The straps bit into the corners of her lips as it was buckled in place. Then the world plunged into darkness as a padded leather blindfold was pressed over her eyes.
"Hey, Pocahontas," another voice whispered in her ear. The touch of his hot breath on her lobe sent a shiver down her spine. "The boss said he wasn't going to go for a little payback if you didn't fight. But I didn't say nothing like that."
Maise cried out as she felt another tug on her long braid, pulling her head back. She felt her cuffed hands pulled up further behind her back as well. When the tugging and pulling stopped, she lowered her head once more and then immediately felt the pull on her bound hands behind her. The bastard had tied her braid to the cuffs, she realized.
She heard the sound of a powerful motor coming to life and the sound of rushing air. Only then did she realize that the view she'd had earlier was out onto the rooftop through the open door of the helicopter that she was lying in. A moment later, she felt her stomach drop as it lifted off. The grating sound of a heavy door closing filled the small confines and then the sounds of rushing air and rotating blades became muted.
Lying on the floor under the weight of her restraints, Maise felt the men release her as the helicopter lifted up off the ground. At once, she tried to rise from her stomach, but she quickly learned that the collar and ankle cuffs were attached to the floor in some unseen way, preventing her from rising. As she twisted back and forth in her bonds with each movement of the chopper, her mind replayed the moments of the day since the alert had interrupted her convesation with Jade. She found herself focusing on the way she had let the other girl convince her to make the trip at all. She should have left it to the authorities. She'd known she wasn't ready for this.
But then again, she had saved those people, hadn't she? In her misery, she tried to focus on that fact. But her mind would not allow it, replaying over and over her initial clumsiness in the fight with the men. If she had been more efficient, would she have had the strength to deal with the canister grenade? Could she have saved them both from whatever these men had in store for them?
As if its owner could read her mind, a hand came to rest on the small of Maise's back. At first it seemed to be nothing more than a stabilizing presence, stopping her from flopping as much with each shift in the helicopter's course. When the second hand joined it, however, the purpose of the contact became clear. It came to rest on her bottom, slipping up beneath the fringed hem of her costume to press its fingers into the firm globe of her ass.
"Unngghhh!" she cried out into the gag, trying unsuccessfully to squirm away from the contact.
"Definitely not the cargo we thought we'd be bringing back," one of the men spoke.
Maise grunted as she felt a hand on her shoulder, lifting it slightly off the floor and twisting her body. The hand on her ass continued to move, slipping fully beneath her costume now to fully grip her bare ass cheek, squeezing and groping it.
"But pretty in her own way, right?" another voice asked.
Maise felt her belly knot up in fear as a pair of hands moved to where her chest had been lifted from the floor. She tried desperately to squirm away as questing fingers slipped beneath the top of her costume to find her breast beneath. Between the attachment of the collar and the hold of the man pulling back on her shoulder, she was left no room to move.
"Yeah, I think she's exotic," a voice in front of her spoke.
Hot tears stung Maise's eyes, held in place there by the blindfold, as she felt the material of her costume and strapless bra beneath moved aside to bare her small, firm breast. She tensed, breathing out sharply through her nose when a pair of fingers began to play with her nipple.
"Hey, get a picture of this," the voice in front of her spoke again.
Maise cried out into the gag as she felt those fingers pinch down hard on the base of her nipple and began to pull. Panting hard through flared nostrils, she arched her back as much as her bonds would allow to try and avoid some of the wicked pull on her sensitive flesh.
"Lick it," another voice said. "That's be a great pic."
Maise's cheeks burned flush with humiliation when the wet tongue make contact with her stretched nipple. Tongue tip played across her flesh like wet fire while she squirmed, fighting to hold back the sobs that threatened to consume her. It seemed impossible, almost as if it must be happening to someone else.
"Oh, I've got an idea," another voice spoke excitedly.
Maise tried to focus her attention within, to ignore the men and their hands on her body. She could hear the electronic clicks of their cameras as they explored and exposed her body, each coming up with new ways to pose with her. She realized that she had not heard any sign of Jade since waking. Was the other girl still asleep? Was she on a different helicopter? Was she actually present and just unable to speak? Maise felt a new shudder of revulsion at the thought that the redhead might be witnessing what was being done to her.
Though she was doing her best to ignore what was being done to her, a new instruder quickly grabbed her attention. She felt the hand slip inside the front of her costume, moving insistently beneath first the outer bodice and then into her panties beneath. Fingers played along the line of her pussy lips, making her squeeze her eyes shut behind the blindfold and bite down hard on the rubber ball in her mouth.
"Getting close, boys," a new voice spoke. "Time to get things packed back up."
At the man's announcement, Maise felt the hand on her nether lips give her most intimate flesh a firm squeeze. It and the other hands then began to retreat from her body, setting the misplaced pieces of her costume back in place as they left.
"I can't wait to post some of these to the message board," a man chuckled. "I mean, like I said, not what we signed up for, but still not bad."
She felt the helicopter set down and then the men were lifting and carrying her out. They placed her back down on her feet. Standing, the weight of the restraints was even more oppressive, and she struggled to stay aloft, knees wobbling. One rough hand on each arm, the men dragged her with them through the darkness beyond her covered eyes. She struggled to walk, but the short chain combined with the weight of the fetters left her unable to keep up.
She felt the air around her change as they travelled, obviously passing from the outside world to the climate controlled interior of a building. The men were silent as they brought her through twists and turns. Finally, they paused for a moment and she heard the sound of a door opening. They travelled another short distance before stopping again. Maise heard a click and felt a light tug on the collar around her neck, followed by a light tug to the restraints on her ankles.
Suddenly, the mens' hands left her arms and the blindfold was pulled away. She blinked rapidly at the sudden light in the room, eyes trying to adjust. Without their support, she began to fall under the sudden need to support herself and the weight of the restraints. She felt herself caught by her collar. As her vision returned, she saw a cable running from it up to the ceiling of the room.
Turning slowly, carefully, Maise surveyed the small room in which she found herself. It was no more than 10 feet square. She was standing in the center of it and turned in time to see the men leave the room and close its steel door behind them. Looking down, she saw the cuffs on her ankles for the first time. The restraints were even bigger than they felt, massive constructions of gleaming chrome with a short cable between them. That cable was, in turn, run through a ring protruding from the floor. She lifted one foot experimentally, wincing at the weight of the thing against her slender ankle bone.
Looking back upward, she continued her turn. Her eyes passed over a simple metal desk with a leather office chair behind it. On the wall next to the door, there was a floor to ceiling mirror. The sight of herself in the mirror sent a chill down her spine.
Her eyes were wide over the thick white rubber ball that split her lips. Her chin was wet, glistening from the drool that had slipped past the rubber gag. The collar was a massive construct, gleaming chrome like the cuffs on her ankles. The cable from the ceiling did, as she'd suspected, connect to the front of it. Turning slightly, she could see that her unseen assailant on the helicopter had, in fact, tied her braid around the center of the heavy metal tube that contained her hands and forearms.
Maise jumped as she heard the door to the room suddenly open. She turned awkwardly to see a woman step into the room, carrying a tablet. In stark contrast to the men in their paramilitary uniforms, this woman was dressed casually, as though she had just woken up and was still working on her first cup of coffee. Her blond hair was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail and she wore loose gray sweatpants and an unzipped hoodie sweatshirt, a pink t-shirt underneath. The soles of her athletic shoes squeaked softly on the floor as she walked, breaking the silence.
Walking over to Maise, the woman shoved the tablet into the waistband of her sweats and then reached up to unbuckle the gag. Maise groaned as the thick rubber was pulled free of her lips, a tendril of her drool following it for a moment before breaking and slapping on her chin. She slowly worked her jaw, feeling it threaten to cramp.
"Th-thank you," Maise spoke softly, her voice hoarse. It felt a silly thing to say, but the woman's silence was unnerving, and she seemed different than the men who had brought her here.
Without speaking, the woman reached down to tuck the leather strap of the gag into the waistline of her sweatpants, leaving the wet leather ball to hang down in front of her crotch. And then she pulled out the tablet and moved over to the desk, sitting down in the chair. She leaned back, propping her feet up on the desk and crossing her ankles while she tapped at the screen of the tablet.
"Wh-who are you?" Maise asked. "What do you-"
Maise's question was cut off by the sudden whirring sound of a pulley, followed by a sharp tug to the cable from her collar. She cried out in surprise as the pull of it yanked her up onto her toes, feeling the metal press so insistently against her throat. She whimpered softly, trying to keep her balance as she drove the toes of her ankle boots into the floor to try and keep the pressure off her neck.
"You don't know me," the woman said without looking up from the tablet. "We don't have a history, yet. So you don't have any way of knowing that I am, at this moment, a simmering cauldron of rage just looking for an outlet."
The woman looked up, her face still almost entirely expressionless despite her words. Maise met the woman's steel gray gaze and felt a chill run down her spine.
"But you know that now," the woman offered the faintest of smiles and then tapped the screen on the tablet once more. Maise gasped in relief as the cable lowered slightly, still keeping some pressure on the collar, but at least allowing her to place her soles firmly on the floor once more. "And that's why you're going to be quiet as a church mouse. You will speak only to answer the questions I ask you."
Biting her lip, Maise tried to steady her breathing. Her chest rose and fell quickly behind her top with each breath as she struggled to keep herself from crying. She sniffed hard, feeling the tears beginning to well in her eyes. Her body shook softly as the first sob welled up and wracked her form. She felt a tear slip from her eye to roll down her cheek.
"So then, who the hell are you?" the woman asked, finally looking up from the tablet. "I've searched every metahuman database I can hack into, and I'm coming up empty."
"I'm Ma-" she began and then cut herself off, sniffing again before trying to stand up a bit more proudly. "I'm Shawnee. I'm with the Sentinels."
"Oh God," the woman laughed, a genuine smile filled with mirth, overtaking her features. "Did you just almost tell me your real name? My my, you are a green one, aren't you?"
Maise bit her lower lip, turning her gaze away from the smiling woman.
"So then, Shawnee, you're clearly telling me the truth about being with the Sentinels, because I don't believe you'd have been able to hack in and get the special message that I sent just for them. But you're also clearly terribly inexperienced, which means you must be part of that new training program they started up," the woman sighed. "It was a risk I took, sending them such a low-level threat warning. But it was my hope that a certain special someone would be the one to answer the call, since she has the speed, and that she'd come alone, since it wasn't a big threat. Now, imagine my surprise when my little net just brings in the two of you."
"Don't worry," Maise said softly, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "You'll get your chance soon enough. You know they wouldn't just send us out without watching, right? Rookies like us? They'll be crashing in here any minute now."
"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" the woman asked, tapping on the tablet again. "But since you arrived, I've had no sign of anything from them. My scanners are very good, too, and there's no sign of them or anything else anywhere near us. So tell me, did you and your friend jump curfew?"
"They'll be here," Maise responded, speaking more to herself than the woman.
"What's your friend's name?"
"Why don't you ask her yourself?"
"It's always tricky with these magic user types," the woman smiled again. "You let them talk and people start turning into frogs. We'll be just keeping her gagged, thank you very much. But you get to be her voice. So, her name?"
"It's Jade," Maise answered, a part of her feeling like she was betraying the sorceress somehow.
"Well, something matches the outfit at least," the woman tapped on the tablet. "What's the deal with that, anyways? Why does an Irish Ginger dress like that and call herself Jade?"
"I don't know," Maise said softly. "We haven't had our first tell-all slumber party yet."
"Oh, that's good," the woman grinned wryly. "With all that sniffling earlier, I was worried that you might not have any fight in you."
"Take off these cuffs, and I'll show you how much fight I have in me," Maise let out a sharp breath as she spoke.
"But of course we will, pet," the woman laughed. "Those nullifier restraints are certainly not necessary. It's a tremendous waste of resources just having them powered up on a C-list trainee like you. We'll remedy that shortly and get you into something much more appropriate."
Maise swallowed hard, feeling the collar seem to tighten around her throat. The thought of having her restraints removed was appealing, but there was something ominous about the way the woman said 'something much more appropriate' that definitely worried her.
"How old are you, princess?" the woman asked, tapping at the tablet screen again.
"None of your business," Maise answered firmly.
Without looking up, the woman tapped the tablet screen. At once, Maise felt a brutal shock rip through her body, emanating from the collar. The sudden surge made her body immediately tense, back arching as her mouth opened in a silent scream. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving Maise quivering in pain, trembling visibly as she struggled to regain her footing.
"How old are you, princess?" the woman repeated, no change to her voice.
"I'm," Maise began softly, sniffing again. "I'm nineteen."
"And how old is Jade?" the blonde asked.
"I don't know," Maise answered, then quickly added. "Really, I don't. We only just met. I think she's older than me, but that's just a guess."
The woman looked up from the tablet, meeting Maise's eyes once more with that steely gaze. Her finger hovered over the tablet screen for a moment and Maise tensed in anticipation of the shock, toes curling in her boots. But none came. When the woman turned back to manipulating the tablet screen, Maise let out a soft sigh of relief.
"Shawnee, huh?" the woman asked. "Are you an actual member of the tribe? I'd hope so, because Apache or Comanchee would have definitely been more impressive names."
"Yes, I'm a member," Maise answered softly.
"So, Shawnee, let me explain how this is going to work," the woman spoke, pulling her feet down off the desk and standing. She tucked the tablet back into the waistband of her sweats. "I'm going to take a few moments to gather myself. I'm going to get all zen and shit and figure out how to recover from the massive outlay of time and energy I've waisted on this operation that you and your friend decided to fuck up."
The woman moved around the desk and came to stand directly before Maise. Reaching out, she placed a hand on the bound girl's bare hip, fingernails playing lightly along her flesh and sending up goosebumps in their wake. The woman's other hand reached up behind Maise and pulled down on her cuffed hands. Maise felt the tug on her braid, forcing her to look upward.
"The boys must have been really pissed at you to get this creative," the woman chuckled. "They're normally so unimaginative."
"They're sick," Maise hissed, staring up along the length of the cable above her.
"If you think they're sick, you are in for quite the rude awakening," the woman slowly released the pressure on Maise's cuffs as she spoke. Though she was free to do so once more, Maise did not make eye contact with the woman, simply staring into space.
"Then, because I'm a big girl, I'm going to get dressed for work," the woman smiled. "Just like you did, right? You put on your special new outfit and came out to fight crime."
Maise nodded numbly in response, feeling her belly knot up as the woman's other hand came to rest on her other hip.
"But before I go do the boring work stuff, I have a special opportunity," the woman yanked on Maise's hips, forcing her up onto her toes again and pulling her body forward. "You see, because I'm the boss, and I don't always have to do the day-to-day stuff."
Maise's breathing quickened, chest heaving behind her supple leather top as the woman spoke menacingly, continuing to keep her pulled forward in her grip. She turned her eyes to find the woman's, searching for some sign of mercy in them.
"So, I'm going to treat myself. I'm going to take a couple days to get all my frustrations out on you and your pretty friend. I'm going to get to know you very, very intimately, and I'm going to," the woman paused for a moment there, holding Maise's gaze. The grin left the woman's face, her expression earnest. "Well, to be quite frank, Princess, I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to hurt you like you've never been hurt before. You're going to suffer and scream and cry and beg. And then we're going to begin all over again."
Maise felt her stomach drop at the woman's words, so calmly speaking of such horrible things. She opened her mouth to speak, but could not find her voice. The woman's fingers moved back over Maise's ass, gripping it firmly for a moment. And then the hands released her and Maise staggered back into balance.
The door to the room opened. Maise expected to see more of the militant men who had brought her here. Instead, her eyes went wide at the sight of the two figures that entered the room. They were either robots or men entirely enclosed in powered armor of some kind. They were bulky and obviously heavy, but they moved more gracefully than Maise expected as they came to stand one on either side of the bound girl. She felt their firm grips on her upper arms.
"Pawns, I am sending you detailed instructions on the method of transport and destination for our pretty little squaw here," the woman pulled out the tablet again, tapping the screen. "Be as gentle with her as her level of compliance allows. She has a long night ahead of her."
"Affirmative, Mistress," a pair of robotic voices replied in unison.
Maise felt the cables from the floor and ceiling detach from her restraints, and then the woman turned and left, leaving her in the care of the pawns.