Prologue

Malicious Malfunction

Jodie Fox rode the glazed elevator to her secluded penthouse suite overlooking the harbour. The lights of a dozen container ships twinkled as they steamed into and out of Siren Sound. She sighed, yawned and stretched, catching a reflection of herself in the tinted glass. She was 23 years old, 5'5", slim and elegant, curvaceous and very beautiful. Her hair was light ash-blonde, cut in a short practical bob, her eyes deep ocean-blue. She wore a sexily tailored black suit, a daringly short skirt with side slits to the hem of the jacket. She wore no stockings, her legs flawless perfection and her black patent leather high heels gave her another few inches.

The elevator car slowed and gently halted at its one and only stop, the 14th floor. The double doors slid open teasingly slowly. Beyond was a sumptuously appointed suite, a central marble-clad reception room with four huge sofas arranged around a central clean-flame open fire, flickering invitingly. Out to the right was the door to the modern kitchen, ovens, a hob and food-vend machines, automated appliances and every possible labour-saving device money could buy. On the left was the way though to the guest bedrooms. There again all the modern technological facilities were available, computers, self-molding intelli-beds, en suite bathrooms with intelligent shower and bathing systems. Beyond the reception room, straight across from the lift was her own bedroom and en suite bathroom. With a view out across downtown Siren City, her bedroom sported a state-of-the-art intelli-bed with a multi-way sim-stim system, her bathroom equipped with a Pro-Clean bath-bot.

She was a technophile and she had to be. Working at the cutting edge of virtual and actual realities technologies, every minor advance in home and work technology could spawn another revolution in her line of work.

And yet, her latest task, as part of the Siren City Police Department Anti-Crime Task Force or 'ACT Force', had been to try and find ways of reducing the amount of black-market codes and patches forced onto many labour-saving devices. A group calling themselves the Nihilists Militia had recently targeted several companies, causing large amounts of damage by sending malicious codes to dozens of labour-saving devices in homes and offices across Siren City. Most households didn't have the firewalls to protect them, and some companies were so complacent, that their firewalls hadn't been updated for months. The Nihilists demands were simple, no more technology and no more law. Natural anarchy they called it.

Stupid is what Jodie called it.

She closed off and locked down her elevator and strode across the marble floor around the sofas, her high heels clicking on the cool stone. The subdued lighting soothed her, and, as she reached the bedroom door, a gentle whisper of classical music reached her ears. Her 'return home' programmes had already identified her mood. She slipped the black jacket from her shoulders and placed it on the hanger which emerged from the wall. Her slim fingers found the button on he short skirt and she let that slip over her slim, supple thighs to crowd around her ankles. She then turned towards the wall, her feet either side of her discarded skirt. Spindly robotic arms reach out and retrieved the skirt from the floor, while more arms reached out, deftly unbuttoning her crisp white blouse, all the way down the front and cuffs too. The hands delayed as she turned around, then they gently gripped the soft, white cotton garment and slipped it from her shoulders. The skirt and blouse vanished into recesses in the wall and she moved towards the bed, wearing only her white lacy bustiere and matching white thong. Her black heels no longer clicked over marble, instead she stepped on a thick red-velvet carpet.

As she reached the bed a lilting metallic voice said. <Good evening Miss Fox.>

"Good evening Electra," Jodie replied to the sim-stim computer's artificial intelligence.

<What can I do for you this evening?>

Jodie sighed. "I don't know. I want to... lose myself tonight."

<I have a few new programmes you might like to try?>

A screen appeared with a series of codes and descriptions. Nothing seemed to inspire her and she shrugged. "I don't know Electra. I need something... more." The screen blanked and flickered. Then a new code appeared, without a description. "What's this?"

<New code, just received.>

"There's no description. Must be brand new. Any hints on profile?"

There was a pause. <Allocated as a level nine experience.>

She nodded slowly, a grin appearing on her face. "That's more like it. Can it be tailored?"

<Yes.>

"My usual specifications then, please, Electra?"

<Confirmed. Why don't you lie down and relax for a few moments.>

She complied, stretching her supple, slender body out on the cool bed. The bed immediately moulded to her contours, supporting her body perfectly, uniformly. Moments later, robotic arms reached over each sides of the bed, each ending in a padded clamp. Without pause they gripped her wrists and ankles, gently but firmly. Her arm were lifted up and out to the top corners of the bed, her legs slowly drawn apart and pulled towards the bottom corners. Her pulse began to rise, her breathing becoming deeper as she fought to maintain control. Of course, she was beyond that. She was now at Electra's mercy, and willing so. The clamps on her wrists and ankles pulled a little more, making her a taut white X of flesh against the dark blue bedcovers. This was her 'tailoring', the ultimate in self-bondage, all carefully and safely controlled by a state-of-the-art sim-stim computer. Soon it would begin the process of her final disrobing, the last protections against whatever this new code promised.

In the middle of her back she felt the bed part slightly and a single actuator reached up and began to unclip her bustiere. There were five hooks to undo, she counted them off, one, two, three, four, five. Finally the actuator withdrew and a spindly arm appeared from above, gripped the flimsy lace garment at her cleavage and tugged it free. Exposed, her 34C breasts wobbled gently, her nipples pink and erect, her skin flushed with expectation. The arm holding her bustiere withdrew, allowing a pair of domes to be lowered into position over her succulent breasts. Each one lowered slowly over its target and carefully closed in until they encompassed her mammaries entirely. She then felt the gentle suction as the domes began to massage her breasts. At the tops of the domes, smaller tubes closed over her pert nipples, sucking on them and delivering waves of vibration which tickled deep into her chest. She gasped and groaned as the nipple manipulation began to get the better of her, wallowing in the sensations and wondering when her thong would be removed and the real work would begin.

She waited, the tingles in her nipples and breasts growing constantly. Still there was no move towards her hips. Perhaps something was wrong, perhaps the programme was bugged, incomplete. No, Electra would have noticed. She gasped and panted as the nipple and breast pleasure increased, her loins aching and her vagina moistening with each passing second. Another wave of sensation filled her as the suction tubes over her nipples suddenly simulated a licking and tickling as well as the already mind-boggling combination of sucking and vibrating. "E-Electra, expla-ah-explana-huh, oh, god, Electra-ahhhh, sit-rep-oh god yes." She shook her head as the waves of ecstasy washed over her.

<Still in set-up mode.> came the cool reply.

"What, ah, explain, oooh." Her nipples throbbed again, now tiny electrical charges were being passed between the suction grips at the base of each nipple and the metal licker and tickler-heads as they brushed her sensitive nubs endlessly. The string of her thong was sodden already.

<Set-up mode to run until nipple induced orgasms, then main programme to start.>

"Oh god, no, no, nooooooo," she bit her lip as the waves of sensation ripped through her taut body. This programme was insidious in its simplicity. Her nipples were being subjected to levels of stimulation which she had never experienced and she was on the threshold of a potentially new experience. A nipple-orgasm... if she could have one of course.

<If nipple induced orgasm does not occur within two hours of primary peak stimulation, secondary alternative stimulation will be instigated until nipple induced orgasm occurs. Then main programme will start.>

What did that mean. "Oh, will, ah, it, ooh, work, ah, ohhnnn mmmmee?"

<Initial indications suggest stimulation insufficient.>

Suddenly, above her a screen extended from the wall and swivelled over her face. It read:

PROFILE HAS REACHED PRIMARY PEAK STIMULATION - NO ORGASM DETECTED - 30 MINUTES TO SECONDARY ALTERNATIVE STIMULATION AND COUNTING.

The clock on the screen began its countdown. Her already pleasure fevered mind screamed as her voice rose. "God, no, stop, stop, ahh, ahh, oooh!" She couldn't stand much more of this nipple torture, yet she was helpless to this programme and her own tailored preferences. The clock ticked down slowly, the plateau of sensation almost unbearable. Her vagina cramped painfully as her inner muscles rippled in response to her heightening arousal, her clitoris throbbed, swollen with blood. She closed her eyes to try and block out some of the sensations, but that allowed her fertile imagination to run riot. Her eyes flicked open.

The screen read 20 MINUTES.

Her breath came in short sharp gulps, her body trembling, the relentless breast massage, the suck, buzz, tickle and lick against her nipples, the minute pulses of electric current from base to tip of those already sensitive nubs. Coherent thought was almost beyond her lust-filled mind. Whoever had devised this code was either a genius or the devil incarnate. She didn't know whether to be thrilled or terrified by what else this programme had in store. Her own tailoring left her stretched out, the bondage bringing her pleasure to greater heights, the inability to move intensifying the pleasure she felt, echoing it across taut muscles and nerves.

10 MINUTES.

She thought she'd become desensitised to some degree but the pulses of electricity kept the nerves alive to the maximum, her nipples still ached and throbbed. Her throat was hoarse from crying out, her body drenched with sweat, the odour of her arousal filling the room. That just spurred her on. She tried to relax to bring on the almost tangible orgasm but it was just beyond her.

5 MINUTES.

She bore down, her over-tight abdominal muscles clenching weakly to try and force the issue, to bring herself off. Had she been unrestrained it might've worked, but she was already too weak and lacked the co-ordination to match her muscle rhythm with that dictated by the nipple torture.

2 MINUTES.

She was convinced she was slowly going mad, her body wracked with almost painful pleasure, her mind drowning in sexual arousal which might never end.

1 MINUTE.

Almost there, almost to the point where this almost perfect stimulation would end and a new and unknown form of stimulation would take over.

30 SECONDS.

She shook her head, gasping, panting.

15 SECONDS.

Still the machinery didn't let up.

10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

The breast and nipple stimulators didn't stop abruptly... they eased down, the current dying away first, the lickers and ticklers withdrawing next. The vibrations reduced to nothing and the suction was released gently. Then the domes themselves released her breasts and retracted into the ceiling. She blinked back tears of joy and frustration, the cool air surrounding her nipples sent stabs of pleasure-pain into her loins. Her breasts were flushed, her nipples deep purple, a little longer and thicker than normal. There was a respite, she caught her breath and began to relax as best she could. Suddenly the screen above her flickered again and she stared in disbelief.

HELLO MISS FOX. GREETINGS FROM THE NIHILISTS MILITIA. I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING YOUR NEW PROGRAMME AS MUCH AS I DID WHEN I DEVISED IT. YOU HAVE YET TO HAVE A NIPPLE ORGASM, EH? GOOD, I WAS HOPING YOU PHYSIOLOGY WOULD BE A LITTLE MORE COMPLEX THAN THE AVERAGE WOMAN. DON'T WORRY, YOU'LL FIND OUT HOW MUCH FUN THEY CAN BE SOON ENOUGH.

From underneath the bed, two robotic arms brought up a pair of shallow transmitter dishes. These were two of the twelve ultrasonic vibro-massagers, usually utilised during her back massage programmes. She had never considered using them for sexual gratification, but obviously someone had. And that someone worked for the Nihilist Militia. Somehow they had managed to corrupt her home security system, but how? She had no time to wonder over that situation now. Her eyes were fixed on the two ultrasonic dishes as they lowered over her nipples. After a moments pause, they buzzed into life.

Normally, ultrasonic massage was focused deep in muscle groups, but these dishes had been targeted to focus their output in her nipples and the effect was devastating. The multiple stimulation of the breast domes was nothing compared to this singular sensation. The very flesh of each nipple was gently agitated, making each nub throb, giving them a natural vibration. But as her nipples were buzzed in this fashion, so her arousal reached new levels of sensation. She groaned as the pleasure swept her up again, carrying her towards orgasm. Her loins ached and her body shuddered, and in response the manacles at her wrists and ankles were drawn fractions tighter, robbing her of what meagre movement she had. She knew she was close to completion when four more dishes appeared, two targeting each nipple. As their invisible energies were brought to bear, she screamed, her mind overwhelmed by a new experience.

NIPPLE INDUCED ORGASM ACHIEVED flashed the screen.

The waves of sheer pleasure crashed over her like white water, the ultrasonic beams yet to shut off. Another mind-blowing nipple climax hit her as the first had only begun to recede and she screamed again, blinded by tears of joy. She felt as though the Amazon was running between her thighs as the pleasure went on and on. Finally, as a third nipple orgasm hit her, the beams mercifully eased off, their power reduced, but not completely terminated. She gasped and panted, her body trembling in the post orgasmic shock.

The screen flickered. DID YOU ENJOY THAT? WELL, NOW THE EDGE IS OFF, THE CEREMONY CAN TRULY BEGIN.

With that, more robotic moved into play, gripping the side straps of her thong and tugging them away from her body. Then spinning cutter blades sliced through and the remainder of the garment was whipped away. Her programmes often did that but usually her ruined thong was immediately disposed of. The arm holding the remnant slowly moved over her face and then down.

OPEN WIDE read the screen.

She was about to clench her teeth when the ultrasonics peaked again, sending her to a instantaneous nipple climax. Her scream was muffled by the sopping thong being forced into her mouth. She gasped and sucked involuntarily on it, finding the flavours of her own juices highly intoxicating. The arm held the thong in place, reducing her screams to groans and moans with the occasional subdued squeal. The ultrasonics eased off again and now she felt her ankles being pulled wider apart, off the sides of the bed and slightly up. The moulded bed also pressed her hips up into the air and her eyes fixed on the two glistening phallics mounted on the penetration module rising from the foot of the bed.

The lower of the two phallics was as thick as her finger and about six inches long. It was lightly ribbed and sprouted a series of short rubber nodules at the tip. The upper phallic was much larger, at least two inches of girth and thirteen in length. It was heavily ribbed with a series of short rubber projections all over the bulbous tip and along its upper spine. She couldn't even remember ordering either of them from the sim-stim company. Both penetrators were heavily lubricated, not that they needed to be, her juices running out of her vagina and over her anus. Slowly, the two phallics began to approach and she discovered yet another feature. Each dildo had a slit in its tip from which emerged a tear or viscose liquid. More lubricant obviously. How long was this going to go on for? She mewled weakly into the makeshift gag as the lower phallic began approach its target. The warm, wet tip probed her anus gently, her sphincter tensing in response. The tip of the dildo gently rotated first one way, then back, the twisting, massaging motion causing the knot of muscle to relax suddenly. The noduled tip eased in a fraction, the gentle massage continuing as it pierced her dark secret passage and inexorably penetrated deeper and deeper. She had only ever experienced an inch or two of anal penetration before, but this instrument was designed for much more than that, and she found, to her horror, that her body accommodated its warm wet length better than she expected. Eventually the little dildo was embedded deep in her rectum, its twisting head tickling the depths of her body. Then it began to vibrate gently. She bit hard onto her gag as the sensations of the deep penetration and the vibrations along the tight walls of her rectum brought new pleasure to her. If this was what natural anarchy was all about, she wondered if the Nihilists Militia had a point after all.

Then the larger dildo began to move, its broad, multi-pronged tip reaching her labia and parting them with a silk whisper, then the head of the phallic plough into her vagina. As the dozen rubber prongs of the head reached her vaginal walls she came spontaneously, squealing into her gag and trying to thrash her body. She had never climaxed so hard in her life and still she knew this was not over. She gasped, realising that the dildo had gone no deeper. Then it began again, this time penetrating with a series of slow, pumping strokes, each stroke getting deeper and withdrawing less.

She came to another immense orgasm as the spine of projections massaged her g-spot perfectly, lifting her higher and higher. The dildo in her anus increased it vibrations a little, while the dildo in her vagina waited. She now realised what was happening. She was being forced to experience more and more pleasure and, in so doing, was discovering the yet unchartered limits of her sexual tolerance. She had always played safe with sim-stim programmes and Electra had always been there to monitor things if it got out of hand. But this was probably beyond Electra's control. Someone had devised this programme with no thought as to its lasting effect. Or maybe they had, and reducing her to an orgasmic wreck was the whole point.

After another short respite and large phallic began to move again, slowly gaining inch after inch of her warm tight pussy. Every few strokes she climaxed profusely, and the dildo stilled for a few seconds before starting off again, until, after six further intense orgasms, the dildo head was pressed hard into her cervix. There it mimicked the motion of the anal dildo tip, a twisting motion, slow and laborious, and it too began to vibrate, gently at first. She could now feel the waves of pleasure building in her body. She could prepare a little for the orgasms as the vibrations and tip-twist massages brought her off every few minutes. By this time she was resigned to the programme, its efficiency in pleasuring her, its calculated perfection. As each new orgasm hit her, another already tingled in her nerves. By degrees the vibrations grew more intense, as did the speed of the twisting dildo-heads and, as a result, the time between climaxes shortened and the length of her peaks increased, as did the intensity. Then the nipple-throbbing massager dishes began to come back into the equation, as if a battle was being fought between the machines climaxing her at her pelvis and the renewed vigour given into her nipples and yet more nipple orgasms.

She was beyond sound now, panting and gasping as she came every few seconds, sometimes on her nipple, mostly from the delightful dildo vibrating in her vagina and occasionally from the thin tingle in her rectum.

The screen flickered another message. ARE WE HAVING FUN YET? WELL, ACCORDING TO THE COMPUTER, YOU HAVE HAD OVER ONE HUNDRED ORGASMS. WELL, WE'RE IN THE HOME STRETCH NOW, MISS FOX. I HOPE YOU'VE HAD FUN. NEXT TIME YOU TRY TO SPOIL OUR PLANS, REMEMBER TONIGHT AND ALL THE PLEASURE WE'VE GIVEN YOU. ANYWAY, MUST DASH. AND, JUST SO YOU KNOW THERE ARE NO HARD FEELINGS...

The screen blanked. She heard a distant whirring and saw, to her horror, the other six ultrasonic massager dishes appeared over her hips. She knew instinctively what the target was and she wondered what the effect would be. Each dish moved within an inch of her exposed, engorged but as yet unstimulated clitoris. The intensity of the beams over her nipples grew to a nipple-orgasm inducing crescendo, the vibrations and twirling stimulations of the dildos reached maximum, mingling multiple pelvic and multiple nipple orgasms in a melange of pure sexual release. Just then the massagers poised above her clit pulsed into life.

She made no noise, she trembled intensely and her mind blanked for a few moments. Her body exploded with sensation as a huge multiple orgasm shuddered through her, nipples, clit, pussy, anus, all linked by pleasure. On and on the huge orgasms went, forming finally into one singular pinnacle of sensation, that pinnacle turning into a plateau. She saw stars, she heard her pulse hammering in her ears and she felt her heart pounding in her chest. She knew she couldn't bear this any longer, that a few minutes of this would leave her a vegetable and much more than that might kill her. Yet still she reacted to the exquisite hyper-pleasure and a deeply hidden, dark part of her never wanted it to end.

Mercifully, the devices began to switch off, one by one, first the massager dishes poised over her clit, then the nipple targeted massagers. The anal dildo withdrew slowly, leaving just the large phallus in her pussy. It half-withdrew and plunged back to the hilt a number of times, adding a squirt of lubricant with each plunge, climaxing her ferociously each time, before withdrawing completely and falling silent. The arm holding her thong in her mouth retracted and the manacles on her limbs unlocked.

She still panted, groaned and gasped, for long minutes unable to even contemplate moving. Eventually however, she moved, slowly, half delirious with post-orgasmic glee. She giggled, sobbed and curled into a foetal position, slipping into a deep sleep filled with dreams of relentless sex machines.

Fini