Part one of a girl's adventures at Scheherazade Imaginaria.
I opened my eyes to darkness. Not quite complete, but almost so—I could make out the dim dome of the natural cave above me, maybe fifteen feet high in the center, and the thick timbers of the door barring my escape, the grated porthole allowing the barest flicker of firelight from the passage beyond. I was laying on solid stone, chill and uncomfortable against my naked skin, but not truly cold. For that much, I was almost grateful; I could have been in one of the outer cells, with a mocking view of the sky, exposed to the chill winter wind. It would have been a slow, painful execution for a human girl like me. I thought of the sun, and the open sky... I imagined my upcoming nineteenth birthday surrounded by family and friends, a picnic party out on the midsummer grass, with presents and cake! That would never happen, now. But no matter how much I hated what my life had become, I'd learned the hard way that it could always get worse. At least this deep inside the mountain the temperature never changed.
I heard steps, the rattle of a key, and I sat up, closing my thighs and instinctively hiding my large, heavy breasts behind my arms. The door opened and my captor entered, stooping low under the mantle, closing and locking it again behind him. He wasn't afraid I would escape, I knew. How could I, a weak, magickless human like me? He just liked his privacy for what he was about to do, and didn't want any of the others disturbing his fun.
He turned to face me then, all nine feet of him standing straight and tall. One more foot, and he'd have been literally twice my height! I was so skinny I probably weighed as much as a single one of his legs, if even that! He gestured negligently, creating a globe of violet mageflame against the furthest wall of the cave. His own eyes didn't need it, but I knew he wanted me to see. He was larger than normal even for one of his monstrous ogre kind, proportioned more or less like a man, but heavily muscular, and without a single hair anywhere on his body, wearing only a simple, untanned leather skirt. He grinned wickedly, staring me in my eyes as he replaced the loop of his key around his thick, strong neck. We spoke no language in common, but his leering, hateful smile was all the communication he needed; he loved holding the literal key to my freedom so close to my reach, and yet completely, unquestionably out of my grasp.
He gestured again, thick ropes of the same flaming violet light appearing out of nowhere, encircling my wrists and my thighs just above my knees. They didn't burn me—if anything, they felt a little bit cold—but they snapped out to the ceiling of the cave, tightening, lifting me helplessly into the air, spreading me open. He undid his skirt and dropped it aside, revealing a massive, twitching cock easily the size of my entire forearm, hardening as I watched. I fought as much as I could, squirming mightily... but I knew it would do no good, the magical ropes were immeasurably strong. He stepped up between my thighs, slapping himself hard against my soft, vulnerable lips, making me gasp at the sting. I closed my eyes for a moment, but could feel him rubbing himself up and down my lips, the unwanted stimulation forcing me to grow wet despite my dread.
I screamed as he entered, loud and long, and I hated myself for it. I knew he enjoyed it; the sound of my pain, the thrashing of my limbs... but I just couldn't stop myself! He was so huge and stiff, his flesh so much hotter than that of a man. I begged and pleaded, knowing he didn't understand a word, as that enormous, invading cock forced itself deeper and deeper, stretching me beyond anything my frail human body had ever been meant to withstand! But he didn't stop there; he started grabbing and squeezing my breasts with punishing force, digging his thick, strong fingers deeply into my flesh. He pinched my nipples, lifting and stretching them, shaking them to make my own heaviness the cause of my pain. I cried and sobbed, and it only encouraged him further. And despite it all, I knew I was starting to respond. My abused, traitorous pussy was reacting the only way she knew how, the heat and pressure building within me. I tried to resist, tried to hold back... but the thick, bruising force of him inside me was more than I could take. I came for him against my will, my hips bucking, my walls tightening around his shaft, coating him with the juices of my involuntary release. He laughed at me, slapping my tits, and though I couldn't understand his hateful, guttural language, I somehow knew he was calling me a whore.
He gradually increased his power and speed, forcing me to cum for him twice more before he was finally ready for his own release. His grip tightened on my tits, using them like handles as he delivered his most painful pounding yet, grunting loudly as the almost scalding-hot torrent of his cum flooded deeply into my unprotected, fertile teenage womb! I screamed—with pain, and shame, and most of all the unbelievable, unwanted pleasure of my orgasm as my greedy, disloyal pussy drank his potent ogrish seed! There was so much of it! Wave after wave he came in me, filling me completely until there was nowhere left for it to go! I felt I was about to burst but still he was giving me more, the rest squirting wetly out around his thick, punishing cock, splashing audibly onto the hard cavern floor!
He finally withdrew, leaving me sobbing, sore, and empty—empty but for the thick liquid heat he'd left inside, wiping himself clean on the backs of my thighs. He refastened his skirt, unlocked and opened the door, a last gesture of his hand loosening my restraints and lowering me to the floor of the cave. The door closed, the lock clicked, the ropes and mageflame flickered out, leaving me in darkness once more. I wrapped myself in my arms, tightly closing my eyes.
“Love you, Daddy!” I whispered through my sobs, the tears running heavily down my cheeks. “Miss you!” I lay there until the tears finally stopped, my private ritual complete, taking off my visor.
I blinked in the soft, orangish light, sitting up on the smooth, apparently seamless plastic floor, standing and starting to stretch out the kinks. I smiled shyly, shaking my head. That 'ogre captivity' scenario was really something else... but even I had to admit, it could do a real number on the joints and muscles, being suspended like that! I stepped carefully to the door of the shower, careful not to slip on any of the fake cum that had squirted out of my pussy as the machine had been shooting it inside of me. There was so, so much of it, much more than even a real ogre could ever reasonably produce, if such a thing actually existed—but I just loved the feeling of getting filled to overflowing like that so much, I just couldn't get enough!
The door to the scenario room locked behind me with a click, the distinctive whir of the machines starting their cleaning and sterilization protocols familiar and comforting as I set my visor into the special cleaning rack and stepped into the shower. I examined myself carefully under the hot, relaxing spray, both directly and in the fancy, fog-free mirror that composed the entire back wall of the shower. My heavy, D-cup breasts were good and bruised up, of course, but I hadn't received any actual injuries. The same was true internally—I couldn't see that, of course, but I knew what it felt like when I pushed myself too far, and tonight I hadn't. Close, maybe... definitely close, but still on the side of pain without actual injury. Beyond bruising, that is, but bruising didn't bother me—there was always plenty of that, given the size and power of the cocks I took! I reached out of the shower to my bag, grabbing my shampoo and soap; this place didn't charge extra for utilities, after all, and my apartment building did.
Finally clean—or as clean as I could get, at least, with an enormous load of fake cum still filling my womb, waiting to leak out gradually over the next couple of days—I dried off and got dressed. A tampon first, to soak up most of it, then simple (but absorbent!) white cotton panties, plain white bra, modest, ankle-length brown skirt, white blouse, tan sweater. I checked myself in the mirror, tucking a long, slightly damp strand of fine blonde hair behind my ear, staring myself in my deep blue eyes. This was who I was, I told myself. Not that other girl, the one who let all those... things, be done to her, in that room. Shy, quiet little Eleanor; the girl nobody ever noticed. This was who I was!
I retrieved my visor, testing the padding around the eyes; still a little damp from the cleaning, but it looked like it had gotten all the tears and sweat out this time. I tucked it safely into the case in my bag, took a deep, steadying breath, and opened the door to reception.
“So?” Isla asked eagerly from behind the counter, tucking a strand of her black, pageboy cut hair behind her multi-pieced ear, her big green eyes gleaming wickedly. “How was it tonight?”
“You could always just try it out for yourself, you know,” I replied shyly as I stepped closer, trying not to stare at her chest. Despite being most of a foot taller than me, her breasts were much smaller. But even if I had itty-bitty perky ones like she did, I could never, ever have put them out on display like that, in a shirt that cut all the way down to where her nonexistent bra should have been, showing off her breastbone tattoo!
“Ha! Not me, Elly-girl!” she laughed and vigorously shook her head, making that unruly bit of hair pop right back down to where it had been. “I don't mind a bit of the old rough and tumble, now and again... but I've seen the settings you like! A cock like that would tear me in half! I'll leave the monsters to you!”
I blushed brightly, and thankfully she let me off the hook without further pressing for details.
“Well, never mind then, keep your secrets,” she smiled sweetly to take any possible sting out of her words. “Speaking of settings, any you want to adjust for the next time you use that one, while it's still fresh in your mind?”
“Yeah,” I said, bashfully lowering my eyes. This was always hard to talk about for me, but I knew I couldn't get what I needed if I didn't ask. “Ummm... can I get another five percent, on the length?”
“Damn! Really?” her eyes widened and she shook her head, but shrugged her agreement, typing away. “Suit yourself, I guess; it's your funeral. Anything else?”
“The, uhh... the thickness is almost perfect, really. So can I get, just like, maybe another one percent, there? And maybe an extra degree on the heat?”
“The thickness is no problem,” she agreed. “But for heat, I can only give you another half a degree. Legally, I mean; another half degree maxes you out. Too much risk of actually scalding you, otherwise. I can give you more heat in the hands, if you want, but nothing that goes inside you.”
“Ummm...” I thought about it, but decided against it. “Just the half degree globally, I think. It would feel weird and take me out of it if his hands were hotter than the rest of him.”
“Gotcha,” she nodded her head, making the adjustments. “Anything else?”
This time I really started to blush, knowing what was coming. “Can I get another ten percent on the breast play?”
Isla stopped typing, looking up at me and raising her brow. “You're already into the red zone on that. You know the rules if you want more.”
I did, and I nodded, stepping around to the little cubby hole to the side of the counter. It was late enough I doubted anyone else would be coming in, but I wasn't taking chances. I unbuttoned my sweater, then my blouse, grabbing the underside of my bra and lifting it up. She stepped closer, peering critically, poking and lifting.
“You can have another five,” she determined, letting me put myself back together as she returned to her computer. “I hesitate to even give you that much, honestly, with the look of some of those bruises you've got there. But you're a regular, not just some tourist, so I trust you know what you're doing. If you still want another five after that, we'll reevaluate then.”
“'Kay,” I timidly agreed, stepping back out again. “That's everything.”
“Sounds good,” she smiled. “Your regular slot, two weeks from now?”
“Yes, please,” I smiled shyly back. It felt good that she knew me well enough to know my schedule. Not that I wouldn't have loved to come more often than that, but this place was freaking expensive! Worth every penny, mind you, but I was already stretching my finances to the max just to be able to afford to come here as often as I did.
“All set!” she declared. “But... do you have a couple of minutes, before you go?”
“Uhhh... sure, I guess so,” I quizzically tilted my head. “What's up?”
“A couple of things, actually. First...” she stretched a cord up from behind the counter, and of course I recognized the type of plug. She didn't seem inclined to explain further though, so I pulled my case from my bag, slipping the plug into my visor and putting it on.
“Ohhh...!” I exclaimed, understanding immediately why she had wanted to show me this. “They finally updated the hair sim! Is this live?” I tilted my head up and down, taking in the huge, snorting eight-hoot Minotaur I was looking at. My movement was limited, without the sensors of the scenario room to interface with my visor's position data, but he looked incredible! Much, much better than the previous version had been!
“Not yet,” Isla said. “Another two or three weeks, they said. Right now it's open to staff only, for testing. Go ahead and cycle through, with the button on your visor.”
I'd almost forgotten the thing even had buttons, since I only ever used it for full immersion, but I reached up to my temple and started scrolling through. A troll, an orc, a bugbear, a centaur, a faun, Bigfoot and yeti, some huge hairy thing with four arms I couldn't even name, a sexy Japanese girl with multiple fluffy red fox tails at the base of her spine, a sphinx, five different versions of werewolves, from mostly-man to mostly-wolf, and then actual animals as well; a wolf, a bear, a pony and a horse, a dozen or so different breeds of dogs.
“That's really something,” I said, taking my visor off and detaching the cord, handing it back to her and tucking the absurdly expensive device back into its protective case in my bag. “I don't suppose they've been able to do anything about the feel?” Sight was one thing, but the feeling of actual hair or fur was the one thing the machines were notoriously bad at replicating. That was a major reason I liked my ogres so much—no artificial-feeling hair to bring me out of the moment!
“Maybe, actually,” she grinned wickedly, and I felt my jaw dropping open. If they'd finally cracked that... She laughed at my reaction, and continued. “I'm not sure if you know, the company has this employees-only forum they set up for us. It started out as mostly just a problem-customer list, so we'd have a head's-up if somebody was going from location to location causing trouble. But it morphed into a place to share customer requests and suggestions, stuff like that, and even for any of us amateur artists to tinker and mess with the files, submitting them to the head office for possible approval if our versions are an actual improvement. Basically free development time for the company, but they pay pretty good for anything they actually end up using. Anyways, a couple of months back this customer in Japan—where else?—comes in with a request. Seems he has a real fetish for western girls with long, blonde hair. The company could give him everything else he wanted, but the hair was a real problem. So, one day he comes in with this long, blonde wig, and asks the staff if they could make the machines wear it for him. Long story short, the company recognized a good idea when they heard it. It's probably going to be a couple of months still, to make sure the machines know how to react and don't get caught up in their own hair, but they're planning to start selling not only wigs, but swaths of hair and fur as well. As long as it works, it should give the customers exactly what they want, while avoiding the whole issue of how to sterilize something like that since they would each be buying their own, and either taking it home with them when they leave or storing it in lockers at the location.”
“Wow, that...” I said, shaking my head in awe. They were going to make a killing! Not that they weren't already, of course. 'Scheherazade Imaginaria', despite the absurdly pretentious name, was far and away the best, safest, most reliable and trusted name in A.I.-driven, augmented-reality sex. They were also the most expensive, but this was definitely a case of getting what you paid for; they'd been the first, and no one else was even close to catching up to their tech. If they could pull off this next innovation, it would put them even further ahead.
“So, that's the first thing I wanted to tell you,” Isla grinned. “I know your tastes, and I knew this would be right up your alley; once I heard, I couldn't wait for your appointment tonight so I could tell you all about it! But the second thing might be even better—S.I. wants to start producing porn!”
“Porn?” I asked, surprised. I'd have thought that would be the last thing a successful company like S.I. would want to do. I was no expert or anything, but as I understood it the market was already horribly over-saturated as it was.
“Not just regular porn,” Isla grinned. “Anybody can do that! They want to corner the market on your type of porn! The extreme stuff, that nobody but S.I. can provide; monsters, mostly, but anything else they think there's an untapped market for. The idea is to provide it as split-screen; one side the real-life actress and the machines, the other the augmented-reality version, touched up after filming to make the end product the best possible quality. They've asked staff to start quietly approaching clients we think might be interested; they're saying any appointment you agree to film for them, as long as it meets the criteria of what they're looking for, not only will they not charge you for it, but they'll pay five times what the appointment otherwise would have cost.”
“Oh, wow...” I gasped, thinking of what that could mean. Free appointments? I could come here every week! Every day, even, if my pussy could handle it! And not just that, but having them actually paying me, instead of the other way around? No more scrimping and saving, terrified I wouldn't have enough left over at the end of my paycheck, and would have to cancel my appointment and wait two more whole weeks before I could come back! But... letting people see me, see what I let happen to me in there... I wasn't sure I could do it, whatever they were paying!
“You shouldn't accept,” Isla shook her head, and I was confused.
“What?” I asked. “But then why would you tell me...”
“Oh, you should do it, alright! Don't get me wrong!” she smiled. “You should absolutely do it, if it's something you want to do! But no way should you accept such a low-ball offer!” She laughed. “Look, you know I would never, ever share anything about a client with anyone else, right? But speaking only in the very most general terms... women who can do the kind of things you do, who can take a cock the way you can... they're usually in their forties, or fifties, at least; they've been working up to the extreme stuff over decades, and their bodies show the toll. You're... what? Twenty? Twenty-one at most?”
“Eighteen,” I admitted.
“Jesus! Really?” she gasped, and I nodded that it was true. It wasn't like Isla was some old maid herself—she couldn't possibly have been over twenty-five! “God, damn, Elly! And not only are you so young, but you're freaking knock-out, drop-dead gorgeous, too! I would drink you like a freaking milkshake, and I'm not even gay!”
“Ummm... thanks?” I blushed brightly, which only made her laugh again.
“What I'm saying is, you are worth way, way more than what they're offering!” she said. “Do you think you want to? Because if you do, my brother's a lawyer. This isn't his normal type of law, but he's an absolute shark, and he owes me a big favour. He can make sure you actually get paid what you're worth, if this is something you decide to do. And since he'll be doing it for me, other than a dollar to make you legally his client, I'll make sure he doesn't even charge you a fee.”
“Ummm...” I hemmed, trying to think about it. What did I want? I hated the idea of people seeing me like that... I didn't even like it when people looked at me on the bus! But... it would only be strangers, people I'd never meet. I had no friends to be embarrassed about seeing it, only Mr. And Mrs. Huang, at my work... But if S.I. was going to pay me, especially if they were going to pay as much as Isla seemed to think they would, maybe I could even quit! And family... I didn't care what my foster families thought about me, not anymore. And Daddy... well, Daddy would have wanted to watch! Other than that he wouldn't have minded, not as long as I wasn't doing it with boys, only machines pretending to be boys. Or... monsters with boy-parts, at any rate, which he would have minded even less.
“I want to do it...” I bashfully admitted.
“Yeah?” she asked, obviously excited by the idea, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her tight fitting black jeans. “I'll call Danny right away!”
“Don't do that!” I objected, grabbing her wrist before she could place the call. “It's okay, I'll... I'll take your advice, I'll make sure they pay me good! You don't have to call.”
“Hey... what's wrong?” she asked, dropping her phone on the counter and taking my hand in hers, stroking its back. “Elly? Talk to me. Why don't you want me to call?”
“It's...” I stopped, looking down. It was her brother, and she was trying to help me. I didn't want to insult her! But... she was going out of her way for me, when she had no reason to. I had to tell her something. “Boys...” I swallowed nervously, staring intently at the counter-top, unable to meet her eyes. “When they do you favours, they... expect things.”
“Oh, sweetie...” she said, scurrying out from behind the counter and wrapping me in a hug. I froze up! But it had been so, so long, since the last time anyone had touched me like that! I hugged her back, hard... and even though she was wearing that cleavage-revealing shirt, I pressed my face against her warm, naked chest. “Elly, Danny isn't like that, I promise!” she murmured, stroking her fingers through my hair. “Like I said, he's a total shark when he has his lawyer-hat on, but the rest of the time he's a complete teddy-bear! Not only that, but if he even thought about taking advantage of you like that, he knows I would track him down and beat his ass with a baseball bat! After which I would call up his girlfriend, and she would beat his ass with a metal pipe. After which we would both call up our mother, and she would bury his ass in the back yard!”
That made me chuckle, at least a little, and I finally agreed to let her call him.
“Hey there big bro!” she grinned at me as she spoke, then scowled. “How's that as a way to greet your favourite baby sister? I do not only call when I want something! And I am so your favourite, too, by the way! You know Luna drives you batty! Well now that's better. Anyways... I need something,” she laughed. “Yeah, yeah! Listen, I need you to put on your lawyer hat for a minute. No, I am not in jail! It was not! That was one time, and it wasn't even my fault, you said so yourself! Anyways, no, I am not in jail! This isn't even about me, it's about a friend of mine. No, she isn't in jail either! Will you shut up and listen to me for a second? It isn't criminal at all, it's business; my friend Elly wants to enter into a contract with a company, but their starting offer is way, way lower than what she's worth. Yes, it's the sex-robot company, don't start!” she rolled her eyes. “They want to get into the porn business, and she wants to make it for them, but she wants to get paid what she's worth. Which, trust me, is one hell of a lot! Just wait until you get a look at her, and you'll understand. Anyways, she needs you to look into it, and make sure she's only going to be getting screwed the way she wants to be, not in her wallet, too! Uh hunh. Yeah, of course. One other thing, though; you have to do it for free. You owe me, bro! You do too owe me! Vanessa, remember? Back in high school? That part wasn't my fault! I warned you, and then I set you up anyways, just like you asked me to, which means you still owe me one! That's what I thought! Uh hunh. Yeah, she's right here in front of me. Okay, I'll ask,” she lowered the phone to her chest. “Can you meet him at his office, tomorrow at five? It's downtown, a block east from the big courthouse.”
I winced. “Would five-thirty be okay? I could maybe make it down there by then. I have to take the bus, and I only get off work at five.”
She relayed that, and came back with a counter. “He says to make it six instead. He'll go out to pick up supper for you both, so if he's not back yet when you get to the office just wait and he'll be in soon.”
“He doesn't have to do that!” I objected, shaking my head, but Isla wouldn't hear of it.
“You never saw Vanessa in her cheerleader skirt!” she grinned, winking suggestively, then spoke into the phone again. “She'll be there. Love you, bro, and thanks! See you Sunday at Mom and Dad's? 'Kay, see you then. Bye!” She hung up, smiling happily, and clapped her hands, eyes flashing. “Address! Right!” She grabbed her purse from under the counter, rifling quickly. “Ah ha! Knew I had one in here!” She handed me the much-bent business card of one Daniel A. Schleiermacher, and wasn't that a name and a half! What on earth was a Schleier, and how would one go about mach-ing it? No matter, I could look that up later.
“I really appreciate this, you didn't have to!” I blushed, carefully securing Danny's card in my bag.
“Please!” she waved that away with a laugh. “Do you think there's anyone on earth who's looking forward to watching you on video more than I am? It's the one unbelievably shitty part of this job—I get to know exactly what you're doing in there, but not once have I ever gotten to see! Do you have any idea how many times I've gotten off, thinking about you in that room? Letting them film you will be doing me the favour, believe me, and I'll be buying every video you release! I'm just making sure you get properly paid, while you're doing it!”
“Oh,” I exclaimed, sounding not at all like a timid little mouse, honest! I stammered some sort of a goodbye as I retrieved my coat from the rack, thanking her once again, quickly bundling myself up for the cold, snowy trek back to my tiny apartment and escaping into the dark, frigid night.
Isla got herself off, thinking about me? Kind, outgoing, generous, beautiful, sexy Isla? And she wanted to see videos of me? I couldn't stop a shiver, and it had nothing to do with the freezing wind whistling through the streets. I was still nervous, though I'd made up my mind. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if I convinced myself I was making videos just for her? I smiled shyly, thinking about it... thinking about her! Yes... that, making videos for Isla, that I was sure I could do! Maybe I could even ask her to help me pick, playing out the scenarios she wanted to see me in most?
I walked quickly through the snow, smiling behind my scarf. It was making me so hot, thinking about all the horrible, naughty things I was going to do for her, I hardly even noticed the chill!