The Machine Restarts Everything

A LITTLE HISTORY.

My name is S M Ackerman and I am the diarist for (The Diary of Miss Whippy Cane) she is a professional dominatrix and the owner of an established house that caters for the fetishistic desires of selected clients. The story you are about to be granted access to is taken from my client notes, all names have been altered for her clients privacy, and the copy write is held in full by myself, S M Ackerman. This tale is not included in, or an exert from, the above diary and is made available free of charge to all genuine readers over the age of 18 in the UK or as is applicable else where please.

Enjoy if you will.

S.M.

The Machine Restarts Everything

The snatch or kidnap if you prefer, happened so fast, was achieved so smoothly, that I almost didn’t realise it had happened at all, until that is I woke in this metal walled, hyper sterile feeling room, tightly restrained to an examination table, and totally naked, a captive in the twenty-sixth century, year forty-two, in mid season one.

Of course I did not know the date when I woke up, but as time passed I learnt many things I did not know when I arrived here.

A perfectly matched couple walked through a sliding panel in the far wall that I hadn’t even realised was there, let alone a door. He stood six foot easily, had broad shoulders and black hair over a nice Romanesque looking face. Which looked at my naked self without any sign of interest, surprise or concern. She stood five seven, she is blessed with a slim waist, has long legs and has dark, short curt hair, tumbling over a young, but attractive face, also I noticed a face without emotion, surprise or concern registering on it.

They walked across the room towards my right ignoring me, the wall there moves much like the wall that revealed the door had moved, but this time it reveals a machine, a computer of some sort I think. It seems to me to look more like a flat screen tv than any computer I have ever seen. The man touches the screen and it comes to an instant life. Images flicker across its display at a rate I can not comprehend.

Then they slow and finally stop moving and focus. Revealing a picture of me in the right corner, and newspaper text filling up the rest of the space. I recognise the newspaper instantly, and think ‘not again.’ I have been trying to live down the horror of getting caught in self-bondage, and the ensuing press and eventual court action for seemingly ever.

“Miss Ruth Spires, date of birth, 16 July 1980. Arrested for gross indecency march 2001. Found in a public place naked and bound attempting to return to home address. Sentenced July 16th 2001 to Community Service, with addendum to receive psychiatric counselling and assessment. Full compliant attendance rate. Completed September 2001. Collected by us for project Return, May 2003. Found bound and naked in a house by collections team.”

The mans voice droned on reading out my life history, said the way he is saying it, my life sounds much like a series of disjointed incidents. He finally shuts up when I cut across him.

“Yes that’s me, you have made your point, I admit it, I am a bondage slut! So what the hell is going on and where am I, and for that matter, why am I here, and like this?”

I struggled pointlessly, but more for effect against the restraints binding me to this table, or whatever it is!

Whether he has run out of description, or he is reacting to my frustration driven comments I don’t know, nor do I care! I am too frightened and confused to give a damn about what he is saying about me. I am more concerned by what he might be going to do with me! So concerned in fact that I haven’t had the time to think about the situation and how it has occurred to me!

Considering that I had been tied up at home enjoying my usual bondage scenario, and then bam, nothing, and then I wake up here! Secured still but differently, and without my stockings on, which is a shame really as they are a major part of every one of my fantasy bondage games. They fit so perfectly when I am playing, and make my legs feel rather nice and of course they reduce the rope burns a little.

Frankly I am wondering if I have had a stroke or something similar because nothing around me, nothing that has happened so far, makes the slightest bit of sense to me. It is just then that the woman the cute looking dark haired woman attracts my attention. She speaks, not to me mind you but to him, and he listens to her, if anything over intently, is she his boss, is she the one in command if anyone is in command and this is not some fiendish dream of mine. I, like him listen to her as well, he nods, I quake in fear at the content of her words.

“Testing program 1 is ready to activate, we have ascertained correct identity so begin.”

Lights flash across the far wall as the computer (I presume) reacts instantly to her words. Both of them turned to look down at me and then they faded away. When I say faded away I mean they Just Vanished! Along with the room and the table and my simple bonds.

I am in a box of some sort, on my hands and knees secure still, but differently now. My head is held in some sort of restraint affixed to a metal bar and I can’t turn it in either direction. My knees are widely pulled apart and also secured tightly. My hands are behind my back and pulled up forcing me to stay in my kneeling position. My back is already beginning to hurt and pain is pulsing through my kneecaps as there is some sort of course material beneath them. It feels like sandpaper. Shit I hope I am not kept in this position for long. It is either pitch dark or I am blindfolded, but which a I can’t tell.

How or why I got into this position I don’t know but I am certainly stuck effectively and for as long as they decided. From behind me I hear a click, then a strange grating noise. Something pushes at my anus, I try to raise my but I can only do so slightly. The something continues to push forward but now it is entering into my love slot thankfully. It’s huge, and determined. I feel as though I am being ripped in half but it continues. I scream in pain but still it penetrates me.

Nature takes a hand now, my juices flood making its entry less painful, my vagina walls now separate, expand as blood and arousal do their thing. The object finally stops, then it begins to pulse, throbbing inside of me, turning me on effectively. Now it withdraws, pulling almost out of me before thrusting forward again, I scream again but not in pain this time. From in front of me a smooth hard tube seeks my mouth, like the penetrateor in my rear this one does not hesitate, it just keeps coming.

I open my mouth wider allowing it to enter, it is open up or have my teeth pushed out. The tube fills and pushed deep into my throat. My head is moved by the bar it is fixed to, straightening out my throat, bringing my head and neck into the perfect position for deep throating. It tastes plastic and quite revolting, but what choice do I have. Behind me the rod is now shafting me in a regular pulsing action, I can feel my sex throbbing, responding as nature intended. Soon if this carries on I will be unable to control myself, I will come (I hope) I am getting desperate for an orgasm. The situation and all its strangeness means nothing, all I want is to come. The tubes retract, leaving me on the very edge of my desires but unfulfilled. Damn them. I try to wriggle, to gain something, some touch, some pleasure that will push me over the edge, there is nothing, nothing at all. Just me dripping like a whore in heat and desperate for the slightest something, anything!

The male and female stand absolutely still watching the image produced by the computer. They note every movement and reaction of the captive, and if they were able to they would have felt delight, instead he turns to face her.

“The captive is most certainly a suitable subject. “ He said as the screen went blank.

She had not moved, only her thoughts and their understanding of the situation had been changed slightly. The test has been entirely successful “she is now upgraded to being a candidate for reinsertion.” Subject closed.

The guardians, for that is what the two figures are, strode to my table and looked down at me as my eyes flicker open once more. I look up at them realising that I am now back where I started and still bound exactly as I had been.

“Welcome back, you are accepted!”

“For what?”

“Reinsertion.” Said the woman, as though that explains everything to me. The word tumbles around in my head, reinsertion into what I wonder, but my captors have already turned away from me. The room and everything around me fades away, as I enter into a deeply controlled sleep.

My dreams or I hope they were dreams haunt me as I wake up. I am no longer secured to the table, but instead my thoughts are leap froging from bondage scene to bondage scene. I picture hard looking men, bearded, slightly uncouthed looking, living in castles built of stone, commanding respect from naked females who for some reason seem to be perfectly suited to being in such a position.

The bed I have been sleeping in for I don’t know how long, but if the stiffness in my body is to be believed, a long time! Is slightly hard but generally comfortable. The door in the far wall slides open and in walk the two of them. Now that I can see more, and feel considerably less frightened, I notice how stiff and upright they look. A little voice tells me that they are not human, that they are robotic, they are the Guardians! I understand in a way I cannot explain, but I do understand.

I am a survivor from my planet. A deep feeling of loss floods my mind; my home world is gone! Destroyed completely, wiped clean of life as I knew it. The Guardian’s in front of me are repopulating the bare planet and I am one of the chosen. Why I am not sure, that bit is fuzzy, but I am certain that I am chosen.

“Welcome Ruth, your time has arrived!”

My time, the point selected for my reinsertion. I stand up slowly stretching my arms, shaking out the cramps, looking constantly at them and waiting for instructions. My time has come, I don’t feel fear or even concern, only acceptance. Faces flash in picture form, a building layout fills my mind, I know where I belong in the building, and that I am there solely to serve at my Master and Mistresses convenience.

“Why must I serve Miss?” I ask the female machine.

“It is your destiny to serve; it is the component part of your mind that makes your existence complete! It is this part of you that makes you suitable for insertion into the new world. You are the perfect slave, the perfect candidate to live out the role that destiny has chosen for you. You will be happy in your role and contented as a slave. You will enjoy the being controlled and the pain and suffering, and by your obedience a new Earth will begin again and life will return to the planet. You are to be a founding mother, one of the few humans in existence, which is why we the Guardian’s of the Earth selected you, and recovered you from your own time, bringing you to ours and preparing you for reinsertion in to the new world.”

“We the Guardian’s have monitored humanities achievements and changes, and found that they failed to work and indeed ended up destroying the human life on their world! We noted that at certain times in the human history there was less friction and fighting. We discovered that this only happens when those that wish to serve and are suited to servitude, are placed in such a position beneath others that demand obedience, then life flourishes. All such people have been selected and will be inserted to create a viable planet. Life must not be allowed to end, it is our duty to ensure, that which we started so many years ago, is not destroyed, but can continue in peace.

“Time for subject insertion.” Said the male to the computer.

I woke up as I always do, in my cot inside of my little cubical room, beneath the great lords hall, deep inside of his castle. A mere servant to his whims, a slave to his lusts and captive, though voluntarily given in to this my life by my mother. I am naught but a slave, birthed in this castle to a slave mother, but I am content, this is how my life has always been and always will be. I being born a slave girl to a powerful Master and Mistress.

I better be about my work it is past dawn and I do not want to have to be whipped again…

Authors note.

End of world as we know it 2360. machine recreating and repopulating new order of humanity .

26.03.10