To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge
Kiyoko
a Gai-Shift cog
She perched like a dove on the timeworn subterranean platform, eyes elfin and wise, hair a river of black, slender yet strong limbs hinted beneath her flowing white robes. She said nothing, content to watch the rumbling belt with its whining, wide-eyed cargoes rolling past.
These agitated women, bound in so many splendid positions, ropes and belts creaking from their desperate thrusts, were the raw materials of London's vast and automated Pit. With the shift change, women worked and prodded and coaxed and tickled of every possible climax, orgasm, coming and consummation had been removed from their various devices. This new group, this line of trussed naked females, would replace them.
Lifted from their sleep boxes by gloved mechanical hands, they'd been bathed and force-fed elixir-tainted food-paste. Then, as their bodies slowly warmed to the insidious aphrodisiacs, they were bound tightly, their mechanical captors impartial to their gagged mews. Ropes ground through tightening knots, cords tightened around heaving breasts, flailing legs were looped up in salami-like bundles. Then they were dumped onto the conveyor, borne through dark tunnels, a struggling damsel ahead, another behind, a racy sight that exacerbated their cravings.
The travel was leisurely, specifically designed to grant each hard-bound woman time to think about the depravities to be inflicted upon her (depravities designed to meet their individual lusty tastes, calculated to the most sin-soaked detail by the thinking machine's feedback loops). Eventually each woman would be shunted to her fate; tickling stocks, a paddle rack, a dildo-seat. Spitted, spun, dangled, flailed, each hapless damsel would be treated to a session of her darkest, most secret fantasies. Yet they would hang just short of climax, the elixir forcing them towards frustrated madness. And when they finally pushed out the most satisfactory string of orgasms imaginable, the resulting lubricating extract, a drip here, a drop there, would be carefully added to the huge subterranean holding lake, to be sold as a fuel additive, a valuable commodity on the open market.
And as for these woman, tied so tightly, rolling along, well, nobody asked coal how it felt to be consumed.
Kiyoko watched the fleshy captives pass in silent fascination, her dark Japanese eyes glimmering in the low lighting, her nipples standing out against her light fighting robe. As head of the Pit's security, she'd been summoned here by a trespass alarm. Two east-side women, coarse as crows, had tried to jump the lottery system, thinking they'd get free access to more grinding sex in a month than most people experienced in a lifetime. But the alarm had been tripped and Kiyoko, silent as death's cloak, had come.
The first girl had gone down with a squeak, her arms and legs captured in scarves that had spun in from nowhere. She fell on her rear, opening her mouth to cry out, only to have a third spinning scarf whirl around her cheeks, plugging her protests.
Her friend found herself alone, standing over her muffled, wiggling, useless companion. Growling, she pried an old pipe from the wall, a weapon of desperation.
Kiyoko could have snared her from concealment. But, no, a lesson should not be wasted. Thus she stepped from the shadows, her robes swirling around her long legs, her Oriental features calm, her eyes as hard as jade. In her long feminine fingers, a white cotton rope, loose yet promising. In her expression, the intent of tight bondage.
“You'll not take me as easy as you did Malinda!” The trespasser blew a strand of hair from her dirty face. “Hell, I keep her tied up in the loft most days. She's used to it. You, though. You I'll tie tight n' right. I'll do things you can't imagine, things that will make those narrow eyes of yours as round as coins!”
Kiyoko said nothing, simply measuring out her rope with dainty motions.
The trespasser raised her crude weapon, charged.
Kiyoko was a student of the White Orchid way. She'd spent a lifetime in bondage at her sensei's tiny feet. But she'd also learned the ways of fighting domination. She had dozens of capture-weapons concealed in the folds of her robe that could have had left this mouthy girl trussed and gagged in total humiliation across a bound handful of seconds.
But rope would suit this task.
She stepped outside the pipe's trust, snapping the rope around the trespasser's right wrist, drawing the loop tight. Her slender nose caught a whiff of the girl's scent, noting its excitement. The trespasser wished for a sexual resolution to this combat. Should Kiyoko fall, she would be bound, gagged and crudely hand-raped. But she would not fall.
With her weapon hand fouled, the girl tried to sweep the pipe right towards Kiyoko but the white figure was already gone, slipping around her right shoulder, the line twanging tight. The trespasser grunted as the loop wrenched her wrist behind her back, the coil's compression stunning her fingers open, the pipe clattering away. Still dazed, she felt more than saw the other end of the line lasso around her left flank, catching her left wrist. In a single heartbeat both hands were behind her. Blurring fingers looped the line in cross-hatch fashion around her X-ed wrists. She only had time for a gasping exhale when a small knee nudged into her back and ladylike fingers cupped her chin, forcing her head back.
“Gah... no... stop...”
Her back bowed further. She found herself on tiptoe, fulcrumed on Kiyoko's knee, her head back. Her clawing fingers brushed only robe. Ceiling was all she could see.
“Please... no... it was a joke...”
The fingers, smooth and warm, slipped up from beneath her chin, clamping over her lips.
“Mmmmph! Pweeze...!”
Kiyoko allowed herself a small smile as she racked the quivering girl a fraction more. She could feel the hot exhales over her finger, feel her desperate pulse, smell her excited musk. The girl had expected to be bound by efficient MIs, not a delicate yet deadly geisha. Now teetering on Kiyoko's knee, wrists snap-bound, lips hand-gagged, she hung in stillness, a tiny bird in the claws of a white cat.
Kiyoko let suffer for a moment. With cool playfulness, she nibbled a presented ear. Within her hand, a low moan. A tear trickled across her finger.
Enough. To work.
With her free hand she tossed a series of loops over the girl, drawing the collection tight with a quick yank, compressing the rolling shoulders. A white scarf replaced her fingers, snapping across cruel lips, drawing tighter than flesh, forcing her captive's cheeks to bulge. More ropes, surprising in their lengths and numbers, still warm from rubbing against her heated body, snugged around the girl. In less time than it took to relate, the vanquished found herself laying on the hard floor, her legs being thoroughly and mercilessly corded up. Even the heels of her boots gained a restricting tie. In the end, she lay on her side, her breasts heaving, her hips rolling, her eyes flaring. Standing over her, Kiyoko smiled with a tea-server's propriety.
Then she knelt with the grace of a petal falling from a tree. The bound girl did not see it coming, focused as she was in the tight sensations of her defeat. But Kiyoko's hands began to roam about her body, forcing spoils on her flesh she, herself, had promised. She warbled indignantly as the Oriental's knowing hands pinched nipples, stoked flesh, whirled along flanks. Every touch was an overstimulation. Every pinch found a sexual nerve cluster. The bound girl moaned as the silent white ninja ransacked her body, doing things to her she'd never done, not even in self-play.
She was not the only sufferer. Her companion, scarfbound nearby, could only watch her debasement, wishing (fearfully, of course) that such attentions were being applied to her own yearning body. She moaned into her gag, her hands frustratingly laced to her sides. Straining, groaning, she tried to force her reach. Sadly, her own vulva steamed just beyond her straining fingertips. She simply couldn't toggle her twat. Her eyes swam in tears of frustration.
Equally frustrated were those women rolling slowly past, machine-lashed, already under the elixir's influence. If looking over their bound toes at equally-trussed and desperate companions on this conveyor belt of madness wasn't bad enough, now this unexpected, wondrous sight. There lay a woman bound hand and foot, dominated by a silent, white-robed sex-assassin. The visage of her debasement filled the chamber like musk, churning the emotions of those girls trundling past. Each of them, as they slowly passed from the chamber, twisted in their bonds to look back, to watch as much of the spectacle as they could. Later, when the struggled on the servicing racks for their elusive orgasms, the image of Kiyoko abusing her captive would trigger many sloppy, wet climaxes.
The girl was bellowing around her gag now, her rope-lashed thighs pumping in response to her sex-soaked thoughts. Only the ropes kept her from dragging her captor onto her, cramming the slender girl bodily into her own vagina, a demure five-foot dildo. She was moments from an explosion. Then, with playful cruelty, Kiyoko forced her body to stillness, shushing the girl to silence, ignoring her racking sobs.
Once her victim had fallen from grace, Kiyoko picked them up with her strong arms, depositing them into a vertical delivery tube, forwarding them to initial processing. The two trespassers, dazed beyond compression, went willingly enough. They thought they'd be prepped and placed into fantasies they craved. What they didn't know was that once the MIs tested them, they'd be placed into situations counter to their interest, things that shocked and frustrated them. After all, trespassers existed to be used, not rewarded.
Generally, though, the Pit found that after weeks of abuses countering the desires of the inflicted, those so placed developed new cravings, producing more Orgasium then thought possible. That the confused, sexually-altered victims required long stays at the London Asylum didn't figure into it at all.
Kiyoko closed the door to the tube, listening to the whirl as the bound pair were sucked off towards sexual oblivion. Then she returned to her perch, watching the endless stream of captives drift past.
She'd not meant to get so... agitated. Normally she could bind up a woman and clinically harass her until the point of tears with little more than wry amusement. But sometimes her own needs arose. She needed something to sooth her growing hunger.
The good thing about working in the Pit's employ was that she could 'borrow' girls from time to time.
And so she perched over the belt, watching the owl-eyed women glide past, shopping for a victim. A curly-headed women bound in a face-down hogtie, her long bare feet slowly revolving, her face cinched into a blush beneath the tight gag, she showed promise, yet Kiyoko passed on the involuntary offer. Then an African woman, her hair shot with white, perhaps a visiting warrior/diplomat who had been snatched up by the sexually ravenous Pit (or perhaps consigned here by the bemused Queen Lilla) rolled by, her fist-bunched arms hardbound to her sides, her muscle-cabled ebony legs cross-lashed into a tightly trembling bundle. Her eyes rolled in angry defiance, her ball-plugged mouth grunted out a string of savage obscenities. Kiyoko watched her pass with whimsy. This would have been an amusing playmate, perhaps one to release and recapture until submission fell like a cloak across her broad brown shoulders.
And then, there she was.
She was a slip of a girl, her limbs slender, her black hair a nest of brunette confusion, her wide eyes hinting that this might be her first time into the machine-lubricated breach. Her arms had been box-tied behind her back, anchoring loops thrown over her shoulders and between perky breasts. Her legs were frog-tied back, a promise of accessing to come. She trembled with the effects of elixir, her eyes dilated, her cheeks flushed, her breath hummingbird quick. She looked up at Kiyoko in her white-robed exotic simplicity, succulent fear filling the expressive face over the wide gag.
Kiyoko snatched up the data card that rolled along a side-trough, pacing its assignment. Fluent in punch, the MI language, she read the bound girl's data. Colette. A lady's maid. In-town shopping. Taken yesterday. Kiyoko ran a scanning finger along the list of the girl's known sex-points, all the deviances the machines had uncovered during its initial “interview”. The Oriental girl smiled at the human mixture of vanilla and kinky. Interesting.
Tucking the card into her robe (rule one: card and girl always stayed together), she slipped down next to the squeaking conveyor belt, giving her approaching intended a smooth eyeballing. Oh, they would have so much fun down in Kiyoko's quarters. She could keep this pretty little thing dolled up in ribbons and bows, making her squeak as she confirmed the card's data with pinching fingers and a flickering tongue. Colette would look adorable in the middle of her broad sleeping mat, the hemp rope agitating her smooth flesh, her eyes screwed up in defiance of whatever Kiyoko might chose to inflict next.
The girl's gag would stay in, of course – Kiyoko valued silence. An interesting image came to her, one of self-gagging herself with a wide white scarf, not that she required it but for the tactile feedback. The thought of muzzled faces nuzzling each other, mistress and slave, sparked something deep within her. Within the crotch of her robe, her womanly flesh steam-heated.
Somehow the rope-locked girl sensed Kiyoko's intent, shook her head, leaned back in her bonds. The Orchid smiled – adorable!
With the gentleness of a sister, the Japanese maiden spread her strong arms, her robe billowing out like a butterfly's wings. She collected the trembling girl within her arms, lifting her from the belt, replacing one grim sexual fate for another not altogether different. In her arms Colette looked up, wide-eyed and fearful. Then, as if sensing the love Kiyoko felt her her, she nuzzled into her breasts like a kitten, finding comfort in the ropes and embrace encompassing her.
Kiyoko, smiling a private smile, carried the girl to her room, leaving the endless belt with its endless procession of bound girls, vanishing into the shadows.
The End
Kiyoko first appeared in “Orchid” and was featured in “Pit”. Colette first appeared in “Some like it Knot”
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20.12.12