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The Curator Ch. 18

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Sue shook her head reflectively trying to clear the images from her mind. During the last throes of her most recent climax, as the circuits popped and the lights went out, she experienced a brief episode of being elsewhere, as if she was driving a car, looking out through the windshield on a dark, snowy night. When the car started to slide towards a snowbank, everything suddenly went blank as the windshield was buried in snow.

The images were vivid, but vision wasn't the only sense affected. Faintly, she heard and felt the impact of the crash. The air was cold with the odor of spilled coffee and pine tree air freshener. If it was some kind of dream, it was exceptionally realistic, yet it was over so quickly that she still wondered whether she had imagined the whole thing. Sue wasn't playing that game, though. Her Nuymean journey, thus far, had taught her one lesson she would never forget: nothing can be ignored, no matter how unrelated or insignificant it might seem. She would not allow herself to be careless with minute detail.

Despite such convictions, Sue didn't have the presence of mind to consider the vision-if it could be called that. When the robot failed, the final upward thrust of its arm rammed her hard in the crotch. At first, she thought she was going into shock from the pain. Never having been hit there so hard, she would not have guessed how much it hurt. She felt faint, then her body got cold and clammy, but, after a few agonizing minutes, the shock transformed into a queasy, sickening feeling in her belly, and she realized she was going to live after all.

Fortunately, the pincers on the end of the robot arm gripped the phallus from the side so their width had helped diffuse the impact. More importantly, they had prevented the phallus from spearing her up the vagina. Even though the damage inflicted was not significant compared to the potential impalement that could have occurred, the pain was still horrible; the arm was stuck in an upthrust position which rammed the oversized Nuymean phallus painfully deep, against her cervix. Strapped to the rack as she was, she could do nothing to relieve the pressure. An attempt to scream for help proved useless. Her voice was still well numbed from the effects of the Nuymean gag. All she could do was wait for Maya, wherever she was, to do something.

The boiler room came back into view as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Light from a small emergency exit sign combined with that of a red warning light on the electrical panel prevented total darkness. The air was smokey, yet no flames were evident, so whatever had burnt seemed unlikely to erupt into a larger fire. Regardless, the smell was awful, like burnt plastic, rubber and motor oil.

With all of the machines off, the tinkling of the little bells dangling from the metal clips pinching her nipples seemed to echo through the room like a clarion call, "Jingle, jingle! Helpless, nearly-naked woman over here! Jingle, jingle! Watch her squirm! Jingle, jingle! Strapped tight and spread wide for your pleasure!" Strange how something so simple could be so humiliating. Thankfully, the bells had no audience.

Eventually, Maya appeared at her side as if out of nowhere, coughing from the smoke, but made no attempt to free her. Instead, she pressed the foot pedal at the base of the rack to lever it up onto the wheels. The difference in height was just enough that Sue felt relief from her impalement yet was still well penetrated. Leaving her in place, Maya returned to the console, then after a short time investigating, went to the electrical panel. Is she trying to lower the arm? A few circuit breaker clicks later and the lights came back on while a couple lights on the Eager Beaver robot's console started to blink red. Some parts of the robot were definitely damaged; a trail of smoke was still rising from one of the metal cabinets as well as from a motor.

Sue was beginning to think that Maya had no intention of releasing her. Instead, she appeared to be trying to restart the robot. With Maya completely silent, her face showing the same distant, zombie-like expression, Sue could not deny the conclusion that Maya was being controlled or at least influenced somehow. No other explanation seemed possible-at least none that Sue was willing to accept. Not for the first time, but in a way more chilling than before, Sue was afraid of what was going on around her. She was also starting to believe more and more that recent events were being orchestrated.

With the pressure relieved, Sue was feeling much better, except that now she was having a hard time not fixating on the pain of the nipple clips. Before, she had almost forgotten about them. After all, the pain they caused was minor compared to the robot's previous outputs, both pleasurable and painful. Now, however, it was hard to put the clips out of her mind-which did seem to be the intention of them to begin with. Fucking jingling.

Maybe she could get through to Maya. She tested her voice and could make a few sounds, but still could not speak meaningfully. Her attempts, however, immediately triggered a panicked look from Maya who hurriedly grabbed the Nuymean gag. Sue frantically shook her head to signal "no fucking way" and to resist Maya's efforts to put it back on when, unexpectedly, Maya harshly tugged a bell. The nasty little clip twisted on her swollen nipple but held firm. As Sue reflexively cried out in pain, Maya shoved the gag ball into place and quickly did up the buckles, leaving Sue to chomp at the gag like an angry racehorse resenting its bridle. She was not only mad at Maya, and frustrated by the gag, but she was also mad at her disobedient body with its mindless reactions: uninvited lust was rising from deep down within her.

Maya had no luck with the robot so picked up an extension cord from the console rack and went behind Sue. Soon, she circled around in sight again with Sue's vibrator in hand. Seriously? That was the last thing Sue wanted right now. She was more than ready to be done, despite her body's growing urges. She could have been seriously injured, maybe even killed. She was tired and in pain, but her renewed head shakes and attempts at hand signals went ignored. Maya simply held up six blurry fingers, then touched the vibrator lightly above Sue's overworked clit-at least the indirect stimulation was gentle, if still cruel.

Realization dawned on Sue-six! She hadn't been counting, but despite everything, Maya was dutifully completing the training session in Nuymean custom. Maya had only removed the gag earlier because she was having trouble breathing, a safety measure, not an act of kindness. Sue now knew she would not be released until she had her full nine orgasms. She would have to cum her way to freedom.

Even under the circumstances, Sue marveled at how Maya moved so gracefully in her super tight jeans as she lifted a leg to straddle the robot arm then sat on it facing Sue. The heavy steel arm barely moved in reaction until Maya proceeded to rock up and down on it using her full body weight, see-saw fashion, boobs bouncing. Each time she pressed down against the strong tension, the arm moved a tiny bit then abruptly snapped back up in compensation-with a corresponding thrust of the phallus inside Sue. The hardest upthrusts brought a ring of the bells. The whole thing felt like a game, and her life did seem like a circus lately. "Step right up! Test your strength! Swing the hammer, hit the bell and win a prize!" Or maybe I could be in the knife throwing act. I'm already strapped helpless and scantily clad to distract the audience. The little bells would jingle when each shining blade just misses and thunks heavily in the target. The last one, right between the legs...

Sue refocused to find Maya's cold eyes staring back with the steady, blank focus of a camera lens. She tried not to think about it. The real Maya had to be in there somewhere. Despite the bruises and the lingering effects of the robot ramming her, Sue's body was succumbing to Maya's improvised technique. The hyper-sexual responsiveness affecting her had not lessened in the slightest, even if her enthusiasm had. Her clit had been spared from damage, and it was impatient for its needs to be met, as was the rest of her body. Contrary to the disconnected zombie look, Maya had an uncanny ability to read Sue's body instantly. She noticed even the most subtle reaction as she got more aggressive with the vibrator.

Sue tried to evade the over-stimulation but was restricted to mere millimeters of movement by the tight strapping and rigid corset. Regardless, each of those millimeters mattered as her pussy played cat and mouse with the vibrator. Maya was toying with her, circling the area of her clit with the vibrator head like a cat circles its injured prey before closing in for the final kill. Maya had turned up the speed, so anything close to touching her clit directly was painful in intensity. Sue was waiting for the inevitable when something changed, and Maya backed off without warning.

It took her a moment to realize that the robot arm was moving slightly without Maya's help. Glancing at the control panel, one solitary green light was now on even though there was no accompanying machine sounds. The lusterite inside her was stirring as well. It felt...rubbery. I know I'm not imagining it. I can't be imagining it.

Maya tossed the vibrator aside and began to focus on her own pleasure. She spread her legs wider as she leaned forward slightly so that her pussy was riding in contact with the end of the robot arm. Even through her jeans, the movement of the arm must have been doing the job as her see-sawing turned into a self-centered grind. Her breathing was faster, and her zombie expression had softened. Abruptly, Maya grabbed Sue at the hips as if to tackle her, but the grab was just for stability. The main assault was directed at Sue's left nipple.

Maya's mouth came to life. There was no gentleness in her now as she bit, sucked and licked hungrily around the clipped nip and tiny bell. She even took the whole bell into her mouth a few times. The sensations of pain and pleasure coursed through Sue's body like a wildfire burning its way steadily downwards towards her highly volatile pussy, now aching to combust.

Sore, Sue wished Maya would switch to the other nipple. A second later she did. Sue thought about what it might be like for Maya to bite a little harder, and she did-only to release a second later when Sue decided that it hurt too much. The scientist within Sue noticed the pattern, woke up, and went to work gathering evidence. She experimented by giving several other mental directions in order to eliminate the possibility of coincidence. She thought about Maya kissing her cleavage on the yellow and black laser targeting marker, then licking and blowing on her nipples...flicking a bell with her tongue...teasing the other nipple with her index finger...kissing the black and yellow marker over her slit...kissing--yes, why stop there? Then, a minute or so later, the big one, she thought about Maya stopping to release her...no response. Apparently, there was a limit. Nevertheless, Maya's responses had been telepathic. Bound and completely unable to speak, there was no way for Sue to communicate by any other means.

Logically, the results of her experiments were undeniable, though scientifically, they were unprovable. Thinking of the implications, Sue once again felt a chill run up her spine. Could the mind really be capable of telepathy? Is that really what happened? Current scientific knowledge had no proven precedent, but most ancient people believed in such possibilities; nevertheless, she wasn't ready to believe some occult or supernatural capacity had been tapped. In ancient times, they would have attributed it to the work of the gods, but Sue just couldn't believe in miracles-despite the lack of empirical evidence. There had to be something she was missing. If she could just concentrate, she might be able to piece everything together, but its hard to do scientific analysis when you are close to the point of no return on your seventh climax in so many hours.

Her clit was receiving little direct stimulation even though the phallus within her was throbbing forcefully. It felt like a man was pumping her full of cum-at least how she imagined it might feel. The throbbing, accentuated by the regular thrusts of the robot arm, seemed to radiate through her body. The throbbing continued to grow and grow as her climax originated from deeper within, a full vaginal orgasm. As her pussy exploded with pleasure, her body twitched uncontrollably against her bonds, as if trying to dissipate the energy. However, the confining tightness of the straps and corset reflected any outwardly directed energy back towards her vagina like ripples of water bouncing off the sides of a swimming pool. The ripples rolled back and forth increasing in amplitude and growing in strength. Sue would have cried out in ecstasy and strain, if able. Instead, the nipple bells rang out the proclamation and announced her climax. Thirty-six jingles later, just as she thought she could take no more, the spasms started to ebb, ever so slowly, until the bells fell silent again.

Sue's head spun, and she felt faint as the last spasms faded. A dreamlike quality pervaded everything. Suddenly, she was kissing someone-a man based on the facial stubble and smell of cheap aftershave. She could feel his rough, calloused hand slide up under her skirt to grab the left cheek of her ass. He squeezed and fondled it possessively while his other arm held her close at the hips, drawing her in so that her breasts pressed against his chest. His movements to lift her skirt higher caused her to struggle for balance in her high heels, but he kept her from falling with the strength of his embrace. Sue heard something that sounded like words, then she pushed him away with her hands. He reluctantly released her as if to see what she was going to do next. When Sue looked into the man's face, she wanted to vomit. It was her skeevy, voyeuristic landlord.

What the hell? The vision faded, and she found herself back in the boiler room shaking her head, trying to clear the images, while Maya, oblivious to what happened, was still going to town with her tongue. The vision seemed so real for a minute there. Her ass even felt freshly groped. Stunned, she searched for an explanation. The telepathic link with Maya could be small potatoes. There could be something much more significant going on with her mind. Regardless, the whole thing was disturbing. So much so, that she wanted to pretend it never happened for the moment; it was just too much to think about. Thankfully, the clarity was fading quickly, like a dream after awakening-as if it never happened-which it didn't. Did it?

Maya had been playing with her the whole time. She started to toy with one of the nipple bells, flicking it to make it jingle then tugging at it, while she teased the other clipped nipple with her tongue and teeth. The pain was harsh enough that Sue caught her breath. At the same time, the constant movement of the phallus was starting to hurt. Her vagina was starting to get dry, and her muscles were sore from straining against the thick penetration.

Looking miffed, Maya stopped her sexual exertions and got up from the robot arm. Even in the dim light, Sue could see that the crotch of Maya's jeans was soaked through, and her legs were wobbly as she went to the small shelf beside the robot console. She seemed to have been close to orgasm herself yet still had the same cold-eyed robot look. What is she really feeling? She dutifully returned with Sue's big bottle of lube, and firmly spread Sue's labia with her fingers (ow, ow, ow), inserted the squeeze pump spout as far as it would go (more ow, ow, ow), then administered several strategically placed squirts up alongside the phallus (shit! cold, cold, cold). Sue had no doubt at all about Maya's ability to read her mind now, but, evidently, that mind reading did not include Sue's desire to stop.

Sue couldn't help feeling like she had been serviced like a machine. Maya, her zombie mechanic, left her feeling much better "under the hood" after the seven orgasm re-lube using the pump bottle grease gun. Here I am racked up at the service station, dip stick inserted. High beams on. Motor running. Working parts repacked with grease. Haaahhaa! Sue knew she was getting silly, perhaps delirious, but it helped her cope. Before working at the museum, she could barely imagine three orgasms in the same day. That felt like years ago. Nine orgasms was still like running a marathon in terms of physical endurance, but such levels of sex did not seem completely absurd and terrifying to her like they once did. Was the responsiveness of her body a new level of conditioning or a temporary holdover from the alignment business? Both possibilities were cause for concern.

She was hungry, thirsty and very tired as Maya herded her towards the finishline of her sex marathon, but the thirst was the worst. Maybe that should be the next experiment? She concentrated on how much she wanted a drink. After a couple minutes, Maya stopped her attempts at personal satisfaction a second time, and went back to the console for the sports drink. Despite the zombie poker face, Sue thought Maya seemed angry as she worked the straw around the gag. Amateur. Try some real pleasure and denial sometime. Sue couldn't help but to be amused. Though now warm, the sports drink was still incredibly refreshing. She kept thinking, "all of it, all of it." Maya did indeed keep going until Sue drank the rest of the bottle. It could have been coincidence though. Experiment inconclusive.

As Maya renewed her attempts at dual gratification, Sue's mind kept working. If Maya's tattoos indicated she was marked as a slave, then who was she a slave to? Her first thought was that she would be a slave to the Nuymean gods. That would be the expected context with most ancient cultures. The Nuymeans were definitely unconventional, though, so it could mean something else. Maya had responded to her wishes, but not all of them. Wouldn't a slave obey regardless? Maybe her interpretation of the glyph was off. She needed a closer look.

Sue wasn't sure how Maya's own sexual satisfaction had slipped into the training rite, especially if she was controlled by something...or someone. Perhaps I'm supposed to enjoy Maya's behavior? Or...maybe it's a test? Maya adjusted her position briefly. Oh, oh, oh, do that again. Maya obeyed. She shimmied back up the robot arm close to Sue, tightened her legs around the metal supporting her, somehow keeping her balance, and wedged the vibrator between them both-right on target. As Maya ground against the vibrator for them both, Sue grew more and more frustrated that she was not able respond in kind. To make matters worse, Maya never seemed to stay where it felt best for more than few seconds. She must be doing it deliberately.

Sue tried to telepathically instruct Maya to the precise place she wanted the vibrator, but it wasn't really working. There was too much of a delay, and it was too hard to formulate the directions. Her attempts just seemed to confuse Maya. If only she could speak and tell her to...oh! It was one of those eureka moments. Now she knew the real reason for silence. It wasn't about ritual, sanctity and reverence. It was about power and control-more than just the typical implications of domination and submission with gags. Much more. Perhaps the actual power to command someone was being suppressed. Who knows what commands I could give Maya if I could speak?

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