Rewired

Chapter 2: Masquing Tape

by MadamKistulot

Tags: #cw:noncon #comic_book #f/f #lesbification #midas_city #pov:bottom #addiction #conditioning #D/s #dom:female #drones #humiliation #lactation #multiple_partners #robots #sub:female #tech_control
See spoiler tags : #bondage #drugs #exhibitionism #teacher

Rewired


Disclaimer: If you are under age, not a fan of lesbian mind control, or otherwise not permitted to read ahead, this is your warning. All of the women portrayed are of a legal age for such naughty endeavors, and the term ‘girl’ is not used to denote otherwise. Nonconsensual sex is unethical in real life, and any such examples within this fiction is not condoning or supporting such acts. The following work is copyright Madam Kistulot 2020, and not for reposting or other such uses. 


Chapter 2: Masquing Tape

Nnngghaaa what the hell was that feeling?!

Serina screamed in terror, her hands moving up to cover her ears before she had any chance to even realize she was awake or to survey her surroundings. Her breath came out in quick, terrified pants as the segmented metal tentacles that had so recently been inside of her ears withdrew back into the nearby walls. Serina was too busy shuddering with wide, terrified eyes to catch sight of the metal probes that were already hidden out of sight.

“Where… am I…? I was… I was in the electronics store… What was it called…? ‘Hendricks’…?” Slowly Serina rubbed over her face as she surveyed the small room around her. “There were… Those fetish robots…? I don’t… They pointed those things and… I… don’t…”

With so much noise filling Serina’s brain it had been impossible for anything she perceived to properly encode. The whole experience after the latex-clad burglars fired at her was a void that made Serina shudder to consider for long. Nothing about having a chunk of memory missing after dealing with a group of identically-dressed women felt like a good thing.

The room around her didn’t help, either.

It wasn’t terrifying because it was some mad scientist’s lair. It wasn’t a dungeon. She wasn’t shackled down to the floor. It was terrifying explicitly because it was so… picturesque.

She’d seen rooms like this in picture books as a little girl, not in stories about supervillains and bizarre robberies. It wasn’t ominous at all. It was a child’s playroom. Obviously there was no child there, but everything about the decor screamed welcoming, young, and friendly. It had the feeling of a playpen, only spread out to encompass a whole room. It was the perfect sort of place to lock a young child if you wanted them to play quietly.

Only I’m not a young child, dammit. Serina scowled at no one and nothing in particular. She was alone. None of those strange burglars were with her. Something did feel off, but it took her another moment to realize what it was. Oh. Oh fuck no! I’m not… I am not doing this!

Her clothes were gone, but she wasn’t naked. Instead she was dressed like a school girl. It had knee high stockings, a cute pleated skirt with a pretty plaid pattern, and a blouse that would have been modest if it wasn’t missing a few too many buttons. It was, however, perfectly tight enough to show off Serina’s breasts, and the lacey red bra someone had put on her while she was unconscious. She didn’t want to know if her panties matched.

Serina grumbled and stood up, looking for some kind of exit. There seemed to be none, just four walls that seemed smooth and unwilling to cooperate with her request. The ceiling had a light, and that was all.

In the center of the room was… a mask, the kind of mask that someone would wear going to a fancy party with the stated intent being to hide their identity. Serina would have thought it was too small for that, too stylized, but the moment she looked to the shining black mask her mind responded. Something deep inside of her was unlocked, and without wanting to, or even being able to understand, she was frozen in place as she felt those words whisper through her mind like a lustful promise.

Anonymity. Hidden in plain sight, desired, admired, wanted, not able to do anything to escape those eyes, even with your face hidden away.

“What… What the fuck was that…?” Serina shuddered, shaking her head as she stared fearfully at the mask. It was small, and innocuous. It wasn’t made of latex like those burglars had worn. It was just shaped to fit over a face, with open holes for someone’s eyes, and a curved shape for it to rest more easily atop someone’s nose. If anything, it was shaped like the sort of mask she kept promising herself she’d buy.

This seemed less like a gift intended to solve that problem, but it didn’t seem particularly special either. It didn’t look ornate, magical, or technological. It just looked like a mask.

She slowly circled around the mask, uncertain. She wanted to be fearful, but that felt so silly, so childish, so wrong. Then her gaze moved to the side of the room and she saw a hula-hoop. Nothing about it was terribly special. It was just yellow plastic—the sort of thing she’d played with any number of times as a child. Like with the mask, words came unbidden from deep inside of her mind. By the time it began, Serina was frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. She could do nothing but listen to her own thoughts.

Feels good to move your body! Move your hips around and around! Jiggle and wiggle and shake! It feels so good to be on display while getting a workout, too!

Serina gasped as she forced her eyes shut and shook her head again. This was bad. This was wrong. It felt like not only was her mind no longer her own, but there was no way of knowing how much was hidden away inside. Anything could trigger another response.

Anything.

Keep it together, Serina. You’re Live Wire. If the woman who has you here is the woman who made that weird gun they used… You disabled that! Try it on the wall! Of course! Without opening her eyes, Serina grinned and carefully moved forward. It was hard to walk with her eyes closed, but speed didn’t feel important. When she reached the wall she put her hands against it and—

Pain was all she felt when her hand reached the wall.

“Fffffuuuuuuck…!” Serina felt so much current flowing through her body. It hurt, making her whole entire body clench and arch towards it, but she couldn’t do anything to make it stop. It was too powerful for her to short it out. It was so powerful that it blinded her electrical sense with no effort at all.

The heroine realized it was over when she was recovering on the floor, quietly panting. It felt like smoke should have been rising off of her body, but it wasn’t. However, Serina knew a few things about electricity. If that was normal voltage, and it hurt that bad, sustained for that long… Maybe I’m not all that good at taking a punch, or being thrown across the room… But maybe I’m half decent at taking a zap? That would only be fair. I’ll keep that in mind the next time someone threatens me with a stun gun.

Her eyes opened reflexively as she tried to realize where she was on the floor. That was when she saw the jump rope. It was a long white and red rope, with thick, sturdy plastic handles on either side. Before she could even realize her eyes being open was a bad idea to avoid more of those sudden feelings of hidden wisdom unspooling it was already happening.

Jump rope, around and around and around! Jump, jump, but don’t get bound! Wrapped so close, pulled so tight, I can’t escape but it feels so good to fight!

“Nnn…! Stop… Doing that…!” Serina screamed at no one, and no one responded. “I don’t want to play your stupid games! Let me out of here!” No one responded again. Carefully she looked over the three objects she’d seen before. Looking to the mask, the hula-hoop, nor the jump rope triggered any response from her mind. All it did was remind her where they were. “Okay, so the friendly little pop-ups only play out once…? That’s… Something, I guess.”

With a grumble the heroine pulled herself up to her feet, and then slowly approached the mask. It seemed reasonable that if she could figure out what the three objects had in common then she might be able to figure out what was expected of her—and how to subvert those expectations. Staying a captive was not an option she was willing to consider.

The mask looked a bit fancier than the other two objects in a way that Serina couldn’t wrap her mind around. The hula-hoop was a child’s toy, as was the jump rope. Neither were particularly special. The mask was a dime a dozen, but it catered to an older demographic.

“Well, here goes nothing, huh…?” Frowning, Serina bent down and grasped the mask up in her hands. Her senses couldn’t detect any electronics, or anything odd about the texture.

It was just a mask.

Serina snorted, shaking her head in disappointment. She hadn’t necessarily wanted it to be anything too impressive, but it seemed like a dead end. “Nothing was right I gue—hey, wait, whoa!”

Tentacles shot out of the nearby walls, long, smooth, metallic tentacles. They weren’t especially large, not looking more impressive than a thick finger, but they moved with incredible speed and precision. Before Serina could think to try interfacing with them both cool metal probes had thrust deep inside of her ears.

Nothing could compare to how repulsive that sensation was. It felt shameful like being caught masturbating. It felt too cold, like dry ice in her ear. It was dangerous, reaching right for her brain.

Luckily Serina didn’t have long to worry before it reached deep inside and—


Click!

Serina smiled as she nodded to the woman holding open the door to the grand fete. She’d been excited for it—looking forward to it for so long it was hard to remember a time that it hadn’t been the most anticipated event in her life. She was sure that she would meet some wonderful man and be swept off of her feet. Then everything in her life would be better.

Her dress was the finest that money could afford. It was a glittery silver halter-dress, the neckline dipping so low. So much of her sides were exposed, and it only held more firmly low enough past her waist that if she leaned the faintest bit forward it was all too easy to see the lines of her body as they showed a path down to the hidden delta between her thighs. Not only did it glitter in the light, but it looked every bit as smooth as it did stylish.

“Ah, hello Serina! It’s a pleasure to see you…!” A woman approached Serina, and it took a moment before she recognized her as Pamela. “And you’re looking simply stunning tonight. Hoping to go home lucky tonight?”

A laugh bubbled up from Serina’s throat before she even had time to think of a response. “Oh, certainly! I’ve been waiting for this event for so long, it would simply be horrible to think of going home empty handed…! And I’m sure you’re hoping for much the same…?”

“Oh… I know I won’t be going home emptyhanded, but look around… Enjoy yourself… We’ll catch up later, alright?” before Serina could respond, Pamela was moving away. Something about her expression was oddly placid, plastic, almost like she wasn’t a real person, almost like she had a plastic face that was painted to look real, to look like a person. It was a silly thought, but something about it still felt unsettling.

What she said also felt unsettling. The large party was full of so many people, but something about it was wrong. All of them wore fancy dresses, though not all of them were like hers. Some had high necklines. Some of them were less shiny, but looked softer, warmer, more inviting to the touch.

One commonality was something that flew distinctly in the face of her goals. She’d hoped at first she was just scanning across the room wrong or was otherwise confused, but there was no mistaking it. There was lavish decoration, lovely lighting, everything a ball needed…

But no men.

How am I supposed to go home with a hunk of a man if there are only women here…? Serina frowned behind her mask. She’d been planning on seeking out one of the many silver trays carrying a glass of wine, but now that she was halfway across the open ballroom with no men in sight there was only one thing she could think to do. She needed to go back home, and try again next year. There was nothing wrong with any of the gathered women. There was nothing wrong with any of them going home together if they wished. It was more that she didn’t wish to join any of them.

As she turned to approach the exit, the doors were pulled closed. The lights dimmed. The music quieted. Suddenly, Serina found herself in the middle of so many women who drew nearer and nearer until they formed a small circle around her.

“Wh-what’s going on…? I… I think I’ll just be leaving, if that’s alright…?” Serina tried to approach the circle, but the women blocking her path remained in place. They wore such beautiful dresses, and had such lovely curves, but they weren’t what she was there for. They weren’t what she wanted. “Could you please move out of my way…?”

Frustration was beginning to well up deep inside of Serina. She wanted to go home and lick her wounded pride. She wanted to hope for things to be better next year. Being impeded frustrated her more than she cared to admit.

The women in front of her only smiled their vacant, empty smiles. They paid her worries no mind. They paid her no mind.

“Now you see he—!” As Serina rose her voice, preparing to begin a lengthy, angry tirade she found so much suddenly happening at once. Someone was behind her, pressed so close that she could feel the curves of their breasts squishing against her back. She could feel hard nipples pressed against her bare back. Only the other woman’s dress was a barrier between those firm points pressing to her bare skin. Her eyes would have widened enough at that alone, but that sensation was only the start.

Delicate fingers grasped her chin, tipping her head up. A bottle was raised to her lips, and tipped up until it was nearly vertical. At first she imagined that the woman holding the bottle, and her chin were the same. She was proven wrong when she felt a hand slide smoothly under the open side of her dress to lift, and squeeze her bare breast.

Shock filled Serina’s eyes as she cursed her sensitive, responsive nipple for turning to solid diamond so readily. So much wine poured into her mouth, too much for her to even hope to spit it out. All she could hope to do was swallow even as she whined under the continued squeeze of her breast. It felt like the bottle would never stop emptying into her mouth, down into her throat, and the hand squeezing her breast was so insistent. The women surrounding her were now so much closer, and there was no longer any open space for Serina to escape.

All she could do was groan as feminine fingers twisted her nipple, pulling it taut to brush against the smooth texture of her own dress.

The wine burned as it went down, but it was more than that. It was so much more than that. As she swallowed gulp after gulp of wine, she could feel a heady feeling of fog rolling over her brain. It was a hot feeling, a wet feeling, like being in the middle of a swamp. She felt so much dizzier the longer she could only struggle to swallow at the sweet, delicious wine that was being forced into her mouth. The women around her would not let her escape until every last drop was gone from the bottle, and Serina felt powerless with such sheer numbers against her.

Mmmm… My head… It’s all so… Warm, so… Everything feels… Ohh my breast feels so… She touches so… good, so… Ohhh… I want her to touch me more, to feel me more to… to…

Inside of Serina’s skull was not the only place that felt warm, wet, and slick with sensation. Her knees trembled, her thighs already beginning to grow so slick. She didn’t know if it was the hand at her breast, or the wine, or the way that another woman reached up under the hem of her dress to squeeze at her ass, but Serina was drenched. Her pussy was so wet she could feel it drooling more readily than the wine that spilled out over and past her lips.

It felt like at any moment Serina would no longer be able to keep up with the flow. She would certainly drown, lost deep inside of so much wine. Another hand reached up under the front of her dress, feeling along her innermost thigh before fingers began to stroke along her slit. Serina’s eyes opened as wide as they could, so heavy with wine, with lust, with weariness.

She’d drank so much, and she was so overwhelmed with the sudden unexpected touches. When the bottle pulled away and Serina could finally take a deep breath of air using her mouth instead of her nose it soon twisted into a whimpering cry. It was pleasure, and it was agony.

The straps of her dress were tugged down, and tongues swirled around her nipples before they began to roughly, firmly suck. They sucked stronger than Serina had ever felt lips suck, just as the fingers that delved between her legs moved deeper, firmer, and so much more intensely than anything that had ever passed between her thighs. Behind her, fingers pushed their way into her tight ass even as hands squeezed and kneaded at the curves, at her breasts, at her hips.

Women were all around her, so it had to be them touching her. She should have been horrified, terrified, upset, but it was so hard to hold onto that feeling. When Pamela nibbled her ear, tugged, and whispered inside all that Serina could do was listen. “I told you that I’d be getting a handful, didn’t I…?”

“O-ohhh… P-pamel… Pamela… You… Behind me… You… O-oohhh…!” Pamela’s hand was the one that so expertly twisted and tugged at her nipple before, and now kneaded it as another woman suckled. Serina didn’t know the woman, but she looked as placid as everyone else. She looked as good in her dress as everyone else. It had to be the wine, but it was so hard to deny.

Everyone here looks so… hot… so sexy… so good… so… Mmmm I want them to… B-but… I… I’m straight, but…

Pamela laughed as the fingers between Serina’s legs moved faster, deeper, stirring up her insides with firm touches that demanded Serina’s hips shudder forward to meet. Her body was on fire, yearning for these women to touch her. If they didn’t she scarcely knew how to satisfy herself half as much as these women were so ready to satisfy her.

Their lips were impossibly smooth, and supple, and wet. Feeling them suckle at her skin made Serina’s head swim, and her knees so impossibly weak. Their fingers were so long, so elegant, and they all moved like they knew her body. They knew her body better than she did if the way they could make her feel was any indication. She’d never felt so wet, so dizzy, so lost trying to find a way to arch her breasts forward, to grind her hips both forward and back, and to somehow stay standing with so many beautiful women ravishing her from every side at once.

“You’re not too much more than a handful, but that’s fine, Serina. You’re our handful now, and we’re going to fill you, squeeze you, and fuck you all night long.” Pamela’s words whispered husky and low into Serina’s ear.

It would have been impossible for them to not follow the rhythm of at least some touches to her body, but somehow it felt like those very words were being fucked into her from every direction at once. The lips around her nipples echoed those same sentiments as they vibrated with the moans of the women suckling. The fingers in her pussy felt just as insistent that they were going to be fucking her until she could no longer take it, and then they would be fucking her more. The fingers in her ass refused to be restrained no matter how hard she clenched, and something about being so wholly filled, exploited, touched, used made her feel so faint and weak.

She felt feverish, trying to shudder in every direction at once as sweat trailed its way down along her curves. She howled her pleasure, arms hanging uselessly at her sides. She would grab for them, for any of them, but she felt too dizzy to know which way to reach to squeeze the faces at her breasts tighter. All she could do was try to arch and writhe.

“You’re our little lesbian slut now, Serina.” Pamela hissed the words into Serina’s ear, and the woman could only pitifully groan in response as a thumb grazed her clit. “It doesn’t matter what you came here for, or what you wanted. Now, you want this. Now, you want women to fuck you, to use you, to make you feel like the weak-kneed little lesbian slut that you are! Say it!”

“I-I’m a weak-kneed little lesbian sluuuuuttt!” Serina screamed out the words as an orgasm rocked through her body. It felt like it blossomed not just from her whole body at once, so much pressure demanding release, but like she was feeling so many orgasms at the same time. The pressure from her breasts, from her pussy, from her ass, from the many women leering at her… It all felt just as intense. “I want this…! I want women to fuck meeee!”

Before she said the words she expected to doubt them, to question them, to only be saying them to satisfy Pamela, but by the time she heard them she knew they were true. Serina wanted these women to fuck her. She wanted to keep cumming like only they could make her cum.

She didn’t just want more, she needed more!

“Ride our fingers, our faces… Fuck your straight away, Serina…!” Pamela giggled into Serina’s ear before she nibbled again, and squeezed harder at her breast. Serina could no longer form coherent words to agree.

The orgasm felt like it wouldn’t end, like it couldn’t end, as so much lust flooded out of her pussy in shudder after groan after clench. So many women took their turns with her, fucking her, filling her, sucking her, using her.

It was almost a relief when the cold metal reached into her ears with a—


Author’s Note: Serina “Live Wire” Alton has gotten herself into a very complicated situation! The villain from this story is one that long time Silver Girl fans might recognize from Silver Eclipse. To find out more about Silver Girl, and Midas City in general, you can check out my website.

But if you don’t want to wait as long as everyone else to see more of Live Wire’s misadventures? You’ll want to check out and support my Patreon campaign! Not only that, but it’s a good way to let me know that you want to see more of this story, and others like it! There’s weekly status updates on what’s going on with my writing, too. If you’d like to join in with a group of fellow mind control fetishists to discuss this and other stories, join us at The Mind Control Literature Discord or my personal discord, Madam Kistulot’s Domain!

This story would not be possible without the support of the following Patrons: Zyfire, NekoIncardine, Kianna Skogseth, Jasmine, Flintnsteal, Emily Grey, Alan Pintar, Zyfire, and Shadows. Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll join me for the rest of this tale... and many others yet to come!

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