Oubliette

Oubliette
  Zoom
Our Price:  £3.99Earn 3 Loyalty Points
+
Preferred Format:  

ISBN:  9781907976124
Author:  Bruce McLachlan
Word Count:  68,317
Format:  eBook

Availability:  

  

Slave to CabalSlave to Cabal
MoonspawnMoonspawn
MoonslaveMoonslave

Facedown she felt him move onto her back, his weight holding her down as he grabbed her wrists.
   His lips nibbled her earlobe and then spoke to her with a tantalising whisper. 'Just tell me the code and we can continue. You can finally gain relief. You want that? Then just tell me.'
   She felt his hot manhood move onto her as he shifted her legs aside and again thrust himself into her, the smooth pelvic drive filling her entirely. Claire bucked like a wild mare from the sudden entry, the joyous sensation making the code burn on her tongue like acid, demanding escape.
   'Please don't make me say it,' she begged, as he moved back and dove in once more, presenting a little offering, a teasing precursor of what she could earn with confession. 'I'll do anything else. Anything.'

A remote and highly secret prison facility draws the attention of Claire Malenko, an ambitious young investigator intent on exposing the inconsistencies she has found in its records to further her own career. When she arrives there she finds herself processed and incarcerated in an automated hi-tech prison, where the warden and his staff have created a world of bondage and submission to suit their desires.

To prevent her bringing ruin to their secret realm of perversity, the warden must drag out the security code she uses to communicate her findings. Thus begins a struggle during which they heap endless punishment and humiliation on the hapless prisoner, trying to gain her secret as slowly she begins to find arousal in succumbing to their erotic torments.

Seduced by one of the latex-clad trustees that serve the warden, Claire finds herself trained as the sultry woman's pet and becomes part of the covert empire of domination she sought to bring down.

'Please, place your hands on the grips for analysis and scanning,' announced a computer-generated voice, the words emanating from no clear source.
   Setting her luggage down she approached the bar and looked over its structure to find two grips. Each was moulded to hold individual fingers, and although it was a little out of the ordinary to conduct a scan of fingerprints in such a manner she could see nothing overtly wrong with it. Grabbing hold of the bar as requested she waited for the scan to begin. Instead, two metal bands suddenly flashed out from within the bar and locked about her wrists. The interiors suddenly billowed with stern pressurised force, the rubber pillows squashing her flesh and preventing any hope of wriggling free of the shackles.
   With a yell of shock she hauled at the bar, trying to break free of the restraints. Her panic caused her to remain oblivious to the panels opening in the floor and another pair of cuffs emerged on articulated arms, their metallic maws stretched wide with hunger.
   The two clicks of hardened Plasteel preceded a sudden hiss as the latex interiors filled and compressed her ankles to establish a perfect and unbreakable fit. Claire screamed and hauled at the attacking devices, a chill sweat creeping down her spine.
   'What the hell is going on?' she roared, yanking in frenzy as she fought to break free. 'I'm a level two Finance officer for the Company! Let me go! I demand that you let me go!'
   The bar retreated upwards into the ceiling, moving slowly to deliberately let her angst blossom. She could see it would lift her from the floor and stretch her into the air to leave her horribly vulnerable.
   'No!' she yelled, afraid that the automated system would mindlessly process her as a prisoner unless she drew the attention of a human operative. 'No, stop! What are you doing?'
   Her toes left the floor and she was drawn up. The fetters followed her and the hydraulic might of the bonds started to rack her. The strain in her arms and legs continued to grow worse, the awful swell of pain in joints and ligaments becoming horrendous as the machine threatened to pull her asunder.
   'Aaaaah, noooo!' she wailed, as she was stretched into a rigid spread-eagle, her fingers clawing madly at the metal and rubber responsible for containing them. 'You're going to kill me! Stop, pleeease!'
   As though in answer to her screams the devices stopped their dreadful work, leaving her hanging immobile. Claire was now unable to move in the slightest because of the potency with which she was suspended.
   'I'm a Company officer and I'm here to do an inspection!' she yelled. 'Let me go or I'll have you all fired! I'll have you here as inmates!' She was trying to sound forceful and conceal the far more appropriate fact that she was terrified.
   Deep, resonant notes drifted from the door in front of her as it unlocked, and the dense vault opened to expose a slim stretch of corridor with another set of wall-spanning doors at the other end.
   The two sets of cuffs clicked as the supports were transferred to a set of rails in floor and ceiling, and suddenly she was being carried forward with a steady motion.
   Flashing her eyes around in jeopardy, tears trickled down her cheeks as the mystery surrounding her fate continued to eat at her. Again and again she murmured her defence that she was a legal officer of the Company, using this assignation as a mantra for protection and courage.
   The door behind slid shut and barred itself to have silence descend. Claire listened to her own startled breathing and glared around to see what was going to happen next.
   Sounds of movement came from the walls, the sudden flurry of activity making her shriek in startled shock. Panels opened in the walls and floor, allowing robotic arms to emerge and reach out towards her. Each arm culminated in a small tripod claw with a laser orb set in the centre. The devices flexed and then began to move their cyclopean eye over her prone body.
   Slender beams of dazzling blue light spilled from the lenses to slice deftly through her attire. The lasers brought nothing more than soft warmth to the skin they touched, and as each portion of cloth was carved free the trio of digits reached in and grabbed it. Claire bellowed her rage and dismay as the machines worked relentlessly, peeling off her clothes with blind precision and dropping the tattered shreds into an open hole in the floor.
   Closing her eyes she felt her underwear and tights being cut from her and the last vestige of her dignity was dropped into the hole, which then promptly sealed over. Naked and held open to attention, Claire wept tears of frustration as the next set of doors opened.
   The arms retreated back into their hidey-holes and sealed over before the rails carried her bare body forward into another identical chamber. From the floor and ceiling emerged several more sets of robotic arms, each with a strange humming device at their head. The mechanisms whirred and moved in, laying their tips to her legs and armpits.
   Claire filled the air with a piercing scream as a fulgent jolt of anguish lanced deep into her skin. The arms continued their work, methodically moving across her body, blasting her with vicious electrolysis to slay her follicles at the source. Each moment was a hell of suffering and she wondered if this was deliberate a torture. Was it a further consideration to degrade and soften new prisoners to Oubliette's regime? Or was it just to ward against lice or some parasite or danger she was not yet aware of?
   Claire started to accustom to the horrific ordeal, the adrenaline and endorphins set free by the steady cosmetic work letting her calm herself a little. But then the mechanical arms started to carry their baleful tools into her pubic hair. Every one of Claire's muscles rippled with strain as she squealed and struggled to break free or evade the thrumming tips while they attacked her loins and rear. Her voice grew hoarse from overuse and her body dripped with sweat as her lungs fought to feed her wails.
   Finally the devices stopped and Claire went completely slack, hanging limp in her bondage as the machines drifted back into their homes and vanished. Wheezing softly, she shivered as the glaze of evaporating sweat carried away the heat of her pain. Saliva and tears dripped from her chin, her hair was damp and her ears were ringing with the aftermath of her own vehement hollering.
   Once more the door opened and she peered through bleary eyes to see yet another chamber ahead, proving they were not finished with her just yet. Claire privately swore that those responsible would pay for this. When she was free she would ruin every one of them.
   A new set of panels opened and a series of hose nozzles emerged and trained on her body from every direction. Claire yelped as hot soapy streams spewed from the tips and slammed against her. The power of the jets pummelled her form as she yelled and fought to evade them. She was being treated as an inanimate creature, something to be processed and prepared. The dehumanising ordeal was proving more than she could bear but she was helpless to affect it in any way.
   The jets attacked her face, making her throw her features around, her eyes tightly closed to protect them as she fought to find air. When they finally cut off she was left coughing and spluttering, having breathed in some droplets during the struggle.
   Her body was dripping with suds as the jets clicked to a new setting and pounded her with clean streams of lukewarm water. Again she was forced to hold her breath and wait as they cleansed her face after attending her body. Once the soap was flushed from her the machines retreated back into the walls. Small apertures in the floor opened to allow the waters to drain away and her sodden body was ferried forward into a new room.
   'How much more?' she shouted in fury, unable to tolerate any continuance of this diabolic process. What else could they possibly do to her? She had been stripped, disfigured and nearly drowned. What else could they possibly want from her?
   The door behind her closed and locked itself as new metal limbs unfurled from the walls and presented glowing red bars to her form. The buzzing devices were held horizontally to her and started to pan up and down her anatomy.
   The medical scan was completed and an osmotic syringe appeared at the end of a robotic appendage. The head pressed to her arm and with a whistling hiss a hefty shot of the unknown contents entered her system. The cylinders within the device whirled and exchanged the empty container with another that was used to sting her and steal a blood sample.
   For a moment Claire thought the syringe was about to be used on her again as it closed in on her navel. Then she saw the actual syringe vanishing into the floor with her blood and she realised this was an entirely new device.
   'No!' she cried, as she noticed it was a laser tattooing needle. But the computer-controlled process was ignorant of her dismay and continued blithely. 'Oh no, not this!'
   With swift sweeps a barcode was etched above her bellybutton. The small square of identification was painlessly applied, but the effects on Claire's psyche were devastating. It was repulsive to her to be branded like this, to be identified as a prisoner, a captive, to have her identity summed up in a string of digits.
   Preoccupied with the tattoo she failed to hear something descending behind her until there was whinny of motion and a Plasteel band was clamped about her throat. The flat band pressed to her skin with a snug but forceful pressure and she immediately started to fling her head around to slough off the accursed item.
   The machine finished its toil and retreated back into the floor as the doors opened to reveal a small box room with a smaller exit on the other side, one that would be insufficient to let her be carried through again.
   Claire wondered if this was to be her final destination. She had to hope there would be a human presence at some point because she dared not consider being incarcerated. If she were, how would she convince the guards of her identity? Even if she tried, why would they listen to a mere inmate who would be willing to say anything to try and gain a chance at escape?
   Drawn forward into the room, the door closed and locked behind her as the fetters deflated and released her ankles. The bonds slithered back into the floor via another subdued trapdoor and vanished. Claire then heard them starting to travel back to the start of the divided passage, there to await the next hapless soul entrusted to their duty.
   Hanging in the air, Claire reached down for the floor and found that her toes could barely graze it. Left aloft she tried a couple more times and suddenly the manacles opened. Falling to the floor Claire collapsed into a tangled sprawl, her body too weak to support her.
   Glaring up with rancour she watched the ceiling open and accept the bar back into itself before sealing again, leaving her utterly naked in a completely barren room.
   Claire looked at her barcode and tears filled her eyes as she sobbed and traced the foul marking. It could be erased, but the stigma of having been tattooed like this would forever haunt her career. She came to this place to further her prospects. Now she had suffered a setback and there was the distinct possibility that she would really be incarnated unless she stopped this downward spiral of events.
   Reaching to her collar she tried to get a finger under the tight band, but found it impossible. The scan had ensured the gaining of a perfect fit. Tracing the surfaces, Claire found that the smooth Plasteel had a slightly raised disc at the front, a fixture she could not discern by touch alone.
   A panel opened on the wall to her left to briefly expose a chute. A set of shoes and a garment tumbled out onto the floor and the hatch quickly closed again.
   'Please, put on the articles,' stated the computer voice.
   'Fuck you, I want to speak to someone,' she bellowed, rising to her feet and trying to tug at the collar as she addressed the anonymous source. 'I want this crap off me, now!'
   'Please, put on the articles or you will be reprimanded,' stated the toneless voice...
Average Rating (1 Review):  
Write a Review and share your opinions!

Rating:  
Excellent
Friday, 8 January 2010  | 

A sci-fi prison with a wicked twist. An awesome tale of bondage, CP and fetish action with lots of sex and some truly memorable characters. Who would ever even think of trying to escape this place? I liked this book a lot. Hopefully thereíll be a sequel or two, I really want to see the alien race thatís coming.


Customers who bought this item also bought: