This is a continuation of The Mission’ and ‘Staying Alive’, being part 3 of the ‘United Districts of Kali’ series. Series management on Lit is poor, so sorry this is all screwed up. I’m still learning the publishing ropes.
I’ve tagged this back into BDSM, and will keep the rest of the series here. I’ve since mapped out the full story (the first two were largely from the hip, as an antidote to something else I was editing,) and I think there’s maybe a half dozen more to follow.
This part of the story has much stronger fetish/BDSM elements, and the underlying mind control theme is very much in the background. Again, there’s some blood and it’s a little more graphic (at the start and end). As always, I try to remain as eloquent as I can to keep it within the spirit of the story instead of it becoming a kink side dish. There’s also some light golden shower malarkey and naturally as much twisted blasphemy as my Illuminati puppet masters allow. Enjoy!
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Chapter One
Mother All Superior perched upon the edge of her thin, hard mattress. She’d survived yet another long day of flatellation, and was exhausted. Being in the order required enormous sacrifice, and every day provided her with new tests of spirit.
She looked down upon her weathered hands and parted them. She’d been absently wringing them again, which was a habit she needed to break. They were badly blistered; dark tendrils spread from her tenderness and grabbed at the cracks in her skin. Yet she accepted the pain as part of her constant service, and as a reminder of all the suffering and blood sacrifices she’d endured.
Of course, she could have just hurt leather gloves whilst savagely whipping the slaves, but she considered that to be insincere. For her, maintaining integrity with a healthy work/pleasure balance remained vital at all times. After all, it had been the key to her professional success.
It was late, and she’dskipped supper hours before. Service was perpetually demanding, and she found it very hard to break her rhythm once warmed up. Although being in her final years, the saddle had blessed her with a teen’s sexual appetite, and she was going to enjoy every damned second whilst she still could.
Another batch of slaves were due the next day for their tour of the mystery school, so she needed to eat to maintain strength. Given the Compression of time and energy, she decided to order some fast food, and dialled it up on the comms glass.
Minutes later, two naked slaves entered her dimly-lit chamber. It was fairly spartan, save for her extended collection of whips, paddles and strap-on beasts randomly nailed to the wall. Despite the functional decor, it lacked the usual ostentatious trappings of excess wealth one would have associated with a religious head. Mother All Superior was many things, but it could never be said she wasn’t generally fanatical. Just what that means however, wasn’t so clear.
“Mains,” she said flatly.
A slave approached and positioned himself squarely. Mother All Superior extended her ring to his chatity cage and tapped at it.
“Extend.”
The cage grew in length and the slave’s cock chased after. DeliverOoh slaves were fitted with specialised cages which had integrated telescopic sounders.
The slave stepped between her played legs and presented her with the tip of his stainless steel cage. Mother All Superior licked her lips as she bent forwards, then engulfed the warm steel with an arid severity.
“De-with-er” she mouthed, and the wide, hollow sounder responded with intensity, but precisely tuned visas.
The slave tensed, jolted, but then relaxed. She waited for a count of ten and then snapped her fingers, firing his subliminal triggers.
“Ooh!” he gasped, and delivered her dinner over long, sizzling seconds.
She vacuumed the last of him and sat back up, tilted her head backwards,and savoured the sensing as his meat and potatoes elastically slide down her throat.
“Mmm,” she groaned in acknowledgment. It had been a full and nutritiously balanced course, which was what she’d needed. Solids would have to wait for tomorrow.
She felt herself relaxing as her tongue enjoyed the aftertaste clinging to the roof of her mouth. Catering slaves were fed specialised diets which impacted body, flavour and aroma. Over the years, the menu had become extensive, daring, and frankly rather delicious.
The slave retired.
“Desserts,” she said with a new warmth of anticipation.
The other slave approached and presented himself.
She tapped her ring to his cage.
“Bite.”
The slave gasped as if he’d just had a door slammed against his face. His body trembled and convulsed, but remained solidly footed due to his conditioning.
Redness slicked his inner thighs.
Mother All Superior watched, wide-eyed and trembling. She swept her fingertips over the colour, like an innocent child wondering at the world, then pulled his warm stickiness into her mouth.
She shuddered and fell backwards.
“Dismissed,” she whispered, her head floating between worlds.
The slaves departed the chamber, one faster than the other, and closed the door.
She clawed at her hessian, and began fingering, whilst she tongued Kali’s offering between her lips.
Suddenly, she felt a triple jolt from her saddle.
“Fucking hell!” she gurgled in a lick spottle of crisis cum and fingers.
She propped herself up in announcement, made arcane gestures with her ring hand and tapped three times against the small side table.
The hologram of a small, white bunny rabbit sprang up from the glass top. It thumbed its tail and span around in a tight circle from excitement.
“Well howdie pardner!” it said gleefully, “Wanna fucky bunny?” it leered, growing an eye cartoonishly large.
Mother All Superior was barely breathing from all of her trembling. She wanted to say ‘yes’, needed to say it as the saddle’s pregasmic pleasure primed her senses, but she knew she wouldn’t remember anything much after if she succeed to the weakness of her fleshly desires. Normally that was the whole point, except the only way the saddle could initiate a call was because of an emergency situation.
“Next time sweetie pie, you’ll owe me double,” she said with considerable effort.
Her bliss received, and for once she was grateful. She continued, “So what’s the problem?”
The rabbit grabbed a carrot from thin air and rapidly gnawed away, whilst effortlessly speaking at the same time.
“I couldn’t tell you,” it said matter-of-factly.
Mother All Superior had been here before. The problem with the avatar was that by design it was privacy sandboxed, so it couldn’t directly tell her anything that she didn’t already know. However, experience had taught her that a bit of creativity could sometimes tease the information it wanted to share.
That all said, she already knew damned well what had triggered the emergency, because she’d been informed during morning worship about the animal.
“How’s Niamh?” she said.
“No idea.”
“Did her bus depart okay?”
“Who knows?”
“Okay, okay. This is an emergency situation, right?”
“Yeppity!” it said, circling wildly with happiness.
She pondered her strategy. There was only so much it would know, because it wasn’t an all seeing eye, and whoever designed it way back in the revolution had never intended it to be.
“Are you aware of John Herald?” she tried, throwing out the most obvious yet least-likely-to-be-answered question first.
The bunny exploded into a cascade of fluffy balls and then reappeared, grinning insanely.
Mother All Superior was stunned. How the hell would it know about him? He couldn’t possibly have been saddled… Orientation is days away yet!
She looked intently and held her chin in thought. “You’ve… you’ve met him?”
A burst of pleasure travelled through her body, the rabbit divered down a hole, and then the avatar was gone.
“Holy mother of God, I mean: Kali, or whatever. Well, some fucking bitch anyway, the cunts! What the fucking bloody hell?” she spat, as the implications began exploding one catastrophic scenario in her mind after another.
She burped cum-rosé, but it was only a momentary reprieve.
–
Chapter Two
John sat the now-clothed mistresses on the couch. Thinking strategically, he’d asked Niamh to refit his chatity cage, and chose to remain naked and collared before them. It worked, and the mistresses obviously relaxed, including Kerry, which warmed his heart.
He shifted the coffee table out of the way and sat down in front of them in supplication, yet his demeanour was anything but meek. It was obvious to all that he commanded the room.
“I didn’t know you were saddled,” he began, “but I can’t grasp why you’re not concerned about my behavior in relation to what that must mean for yours? Niamh, you especially, can’t you see how intense you’re being? And that it’s like and on-off switch? What am I missing here?”
Niamh’s eyes were red-rimmed from her constant weeping. She sniffled, and absently wiped her eyes with her palms.
“It’s not the same saddle. And we use a different app. So like, we control the slaves with HandlR, but use SkulptR for ourselves.”
“Apps?” John replied, his eyes widening in horror, “That sounds like a ’20s nightmare! Apps! That’s insane. And slaves? Surely, you mean: servants?”
Her eyes narrowed. “‘Servants’ is an archaic Union word used in the brochures. In the UDK, it translates to the modern day word, ‘slaves’. But ye know, it’s all the same like.”
“Sure it is,” he humoured her, “So tell me about these ‘apps’ of yours, I’m feeling left out of the cool crowd?”
“We use them to tweak ourselves… the saddle’s an amazin’ yoke… and like, it’s required once ye come of age. The foundin’ matrons, bless ’em, started all of that now. They were fierce wise!”
John stared at the women. Although nothing more was said, they all seemed to be in agreement.
“Can you show me this app?”
“No, it’s personal, I won’t like. We don’t do that.”
“You’re not seeing mine!” interjected Kerry from nowhere, obviously still processing his earlier violence.
“Kerry, I’ll never ask anything from you, unless it’s a matter of life or death. Please understand. If it helps after we conclude here, you can beat me any way you wish. I truly mean that.”
She rebuffed him with a cold gaze, then looked away, returning to her thoughts. Beating him wouldn’t be the same now, and enthusiastic cruelty wasn’t even a consideration, because her saddle saw to that.
“Niamh, I have to see it, I’m sorry. You must understand I’m the only one here with a grip on’normal’ human behaviour. And, let’s be brutal, what normal human physiology should be too, because none of you are in the least bit ‘normal’,” he said, looking from one to the other, “We all know I’m unique. I’ve experienced the effects of something like the saddle, although I admit I’m still returning to full lucidity.”
She pursued her lips and mulled it over. He’s the foundin’ father, she reminded herself. If her faith means anything at all, she had to trust him. Although the events of the last hour, he didn’t abuse her when he could have, or any of them. He’d proved once again he wasn’t an animal like the rest.
“Only for ye, John Herald, only for ye, but yer experience wasn’t the same, so don’t paint with a single brush like,” she said with resignation.
Jools raised her eyesbrows in surprise and touched Niamh on the arm, then whispered, “Animals shouldn’t see these things!”
Niamh turned, “Now I’m tellin’ ye he’s sound and not an animal, not this one.And it’s me choose to make and I have me reasons,”
John spoke up, “Thank you.”
She flashed John a sly smile, “So be a good boy and return the table, because I need a surface to work with before ye and I get all close an’ lovey again.”
John’s heart warmed some more. He was feeling pretty straight in himself, but the sweet wash of her tongue was impossible to explain away. It felt geneuine, and they’d certainly shared some special moments together.
He eyed her carefully and spoke deliberately.
“Yes, mistress,” he said, tilting his face in supplication, but maintaining eye contact.
Her reaction confirmed everything he already knew in his heart.
Once he’d shifted the table and settled, Niamh made some odd geometric gestures with her ring finger, tapped the table’s glass surface three times and leaned back on the couch.
The top half of a holographic teen corkscrewed up from the table with a dancing twirl and a cascade of falling stars around her. She wore a strawless stainless steel bra that twinkled in the light of the sparkles. The projection thrust forwards and looked coy behind her dark, shoulder length locks and thick metal steel collar.
“Heya girl!” said the teen, her voice booming from the suite’s wall speakers. A burst of thumbing EDM kicked in and she started moving with the beat. “Let’s party and make a wish!” she shouted, jiggling about.
Niamh instantly lit up and arched her back slightly. Her pupils dilated. She bopped her shoulders to the beat.
“Remind me what ye can do!” said Niamh gleefully, losing herself to the swing of the party as if she’d been there all night and boozy.
“Well now hon, let’s start with the basics. There’s the birthday, gender and menupause controls of course, skin glow, eternal youth, hair dye and body hair, all the usual proactive health stuff, physical enhancement and emotional wellness sliders we can play with… But why don’t we look into physical enhancement today? I’ve a special I just know you’re gonna love!”
Niamh’s face became childlike as she listened to SkulptR. Once offered the ‘special’ her eyes squeezed together in pleasure.
“Yes!” she reacted giddily, rapt within this sudden info-bubble.
The music shifted beat as another track mixed in. The teen throw a handful of stars into the air which sparkled and drifted onto the table like falling snow.
“That’s my girl!” she said, “So look here, you’ve been such a good girl I’ve decided to finally unlock boob enhancement for you! Yes! That’s right hon, you’ve finally leveled up!“
Niamh clapped her hands in girly delight.
“Now let’s read off! You’re currently at your baseline of twenty-one,” she said, and the music shuddered into silence. She paused for a split second for dramatic effect and then continued with the rescuen pounding of the beat, “I’ll raise that to thirty in the coming weeks, so don’t be shy if you need to eat that extra meal, okay hon? Everyone else’s boobs are waaaay bigger than yours on DominR, or so I’m told, so don’t be the odd one out, you wouldn’t want that now? Let’s supersize and join the real party! Tell me you want it, hon?”
Niamh had waited a long time for this moment, having dutifully accepted all of the other enhancements to get here. She shuddered her pleasure from the rush of it all.
“Yes! But make ’em firmer instead — and me nips longer, like feckin’ bullets!”
SkulptR did a double take, “What hon? Not bigger? But it’s all the rage! You’ll be left behind and all alone. No one likes outliers, and we need unity! They’ll burny you, I know they will. Just think of all the incessant gossip about Your tiny titties, and… and all of the lies!“, she finished, popping herself forwards as the music crashed to another stop.
Niamh looked horrified. “But I want me boobies like that, it makes me hips look bigger, and I know ye can’t change me ol’ bones!”
The music restarted and teen bopped away to the beat, ignoring her, turning her shoulder and pretending to engage with someone else at the party, mouth silent words, pointing to someone and laughing.
“You heard me,” chased a forlorn Niamh.
The music halted once more. SkultpR crossed her arms in a huff of frustration and leaned in with a hint of menace. “Let me take care of you,” she husked. A newly appearing third arm raised to her fat neck collar and fingered away at the centre ring.
Niamh bucked and throw her head back in ecstasy. She tensed and vibrated for around ten seconds. Once released, she collapsed into the couch, dazed, wet, and grinning like a thoroughly stuffed imbecile.
Finally, she pulled herself together, her limbs flailing like a new born from the pleasure-quake. SkulptR resumed dancing to the beat and a swirl of pulsating lights flashed around her.
“Please,” gasped Niamh, utterly submissive, “Please take care of me,” she said, her face becoming a picture of absolute rapture.
“Sure hon! Why didn’t you say so early? You know I’ll always…”
John barked thunderously at the avatar, “Belay that order, and stop this madness at once!. Niamh! Ignore her. You have to trust me!”
The music scratched to a halt and SkulptR morphed about face. She looked him up and down from behind a protectedly angled shoulder. Her eyes narrowed and she momentarily froze and dropped ‘frames’ before recovering in a slightly different posture.
“You’re not saddled,” she said haughtily, “And you’ve no data. And you’re a male,” she concluded with contempt, disgust and a gleam of hatred.
John took her all in; she looked like a more fulsome, perhaps More natural, but darker haired impression of Niamh, and he noticed that the letters “KALI” had been bizarrely ‘stamped’ along the underside of her steel bra.
The avatar returned to face Niamh whilst a slowly decaying after image scowled dismissively at John. Niamh ignored her, because her whole world had locked in upon John. He firmly shook his head from side-to-side, and she felt his emotional protection envelope her heart.
She turned to the avatar and spoke spontaneously, listening along with everyone else, “Cancel the changes… I’ve… I’ve,” she flicked her gaze back to John, “I’ve John Herald to take care of me now. Dismissed.”
SkulptR’s mouth opened, but words did not follow. The hologram vanished in a puff, and Niamh jolted, but this time is wasn’t from pleasure. She gasped and began hyperventilating, sobbing uncontrollably. John stood, yanked the table aside and pulled her up and into his arms, soothing her, loving her and protecting her.
–
Chapter Three
“You’ve just saved your soul,” he said with a firm hug.
Wild emotion ramped through her, and her breaths spaced raggedly.
“I… I don’t understand. I just don’t like, but I’m goin’ to trust ye.Why… why can’t I have bigger boobies? I need them bigger, don’t I?”
John tightened his grip.
“No my love, you don’t, or didn’t; she manipulated you, we all saw it. And if it’s any help: I love them as they are… not that I’ve shared any quality time with them yet…”
She smiled into his chest and felt better about herself. His thoughts mattered now she’d crossed that bridge.
She lifted her face into his and they kissed firmly. Slowly, Niamh pushed him away and slid back onto the couch, a little unsteady.
John scanned the others. They were ashen faced at what they’d seen.
He nodded to Jools, “I can’t believe you haven’t noticed anything like that before? It was so obvious what was going on!”
She blinked and shook her head in the negative. “No, we… SkulptR is intimate, and we’re not encouraged to show others, it’s just not done socially. Even after confirmation, I just didn’t feel to share with my girlfriends even though it was all we’d being talking about before. I mean, my orgasm lasted for days whilst it took me through all the settings… and it rewarded me every time I increased something… I was so innocent and it was like the fucking rapture. But yeah, it’s obvious now!”, she clapped her head between her hands.
Continuing, “But we do like privacy sometimes, despite being communal. I… I couldn’t really tell you what happens when I activate her these days, but I know it’s… It’s a drug, and I fucking love it. Love it. Everyone has it setup differently though, I mean, I’d have never thought Niamh was into clubbing… what with her being in ‘da priesthood an’ all’,” she said, turning to Niamh and eyeing her head to toe with unbridled lust.
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