Shadows of Torment I & II

Shadows of Torment I & II
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ISBN:  9781780801384
Author:  Bruce McLachlan
Word Count:  161,129
Format:  eBook

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Moonspawn & MoonslaveMoonspawn & Moonslave
Oubliette & Slave to CabalOubliette & Slave to Cabal

Tyra's adventures are now brought together in one Bruce McLachlan science fantasy erotica collection.

Shadows of Torment

Massively in debt, Tyra is auctioned to the highest bidder to recover the vast sums she owes. Sold as a pleasure slave to a nefarious businessman, she is used to sate his whims as well as the dark unbridled lusts of his aids and favoured supporters.

Kept in the lofty palace of her owner, Tyra finds the locale a place of unrestrained carnal excess, where anyone with money or connections can indulge even the most depraved passions. Subjected to discipline and punishment, she is taught to revel in her slavery, and finally Tyra begins to find pleasure in her pain.
Then, betrayed, she finds that perhaps her life was not as she thought and that there is more to her enforced captivity than her debts...

Shadows of Torment II

Tyra returns in the sequel to Shadows of Torment.

Free from control and seeking vengeance against her old master, Tyra learns that Balthazar was once the lieutenant of a galactic crime syndicate. It was in this position that he acquired his taste - and skills - for dominance.

Tyra breaks into his private off-world estate but is captured. She then finds herself lost in a nefarious realm of forbidden pleasures, impossible delights, and exquisite vice. Enrolled as a concubine, her submission is tested to the full as she starts to unearth the many astounding secrets that surround her.

Meanwhile, Lily is subjected to the cruel and merciless training of her old lover and her former employer, who has struck a deal with a new and terrible force whose goal is nothing less than total dominance over all life.

Gradually, the sultry fates of both women are set on a collision course...

Shadows of Torment

Awareness returned in a sudden dazzling flash, every sense reaching full clarity in an instant. Tyra was lying upon a soft bed, the satin sheets a striking violet shade, sensuously smooth against her skin. The chamber itself was opulent in extravagant styles, the cascading drapes forming a shimmering circle about her, the soft breezes winding through them scented with a catalogue of subtle fragrances.
   An inert forearm lay before her gaze, her body on its side. The unblemished snowy flesh looked so perfect, so alien, the usual sight of a withered, painfully thin limb was gone, and only this exemplary creation remained. It looked and felt so real it was hard to imagine that beneath the tender skin lay an artificial interior, painstakingly constructed by bio engineers. Closing her hand, she watched the fingers tense and move while she tried to picture the hidden mechanisms at work within the slender digits. It was as close to real as humanity could produce, and a zenith of achievement – motivated fibre bundles as muscles, veins of bio fluids, a Crysteel reinforced skeleton – a superior copy in every respect to the organic original. God created man, and now man created virtual gods.
   Sitting up, Tyra looked across her body and found it clad in seductive lingerie, the ensemble presented in white shades and of exquisite quality. A satin and lace basque closed about her torso. The near translucent lace of the front panel and the cups revealed her skin and nipples to furtive view, the plunging design offering up her cleavage to adoration. The attached suspenders reached down and slipped beneath the thin straps of her plain thong, grabbing the ivory tips of fine denier, albino seamed stockings. Her feet were left bare within the hose, her toes sealed within the snowy sheet.
   The sight of such provocative attire did not bode well for the fate to which she was allotted, yet it further impressed upon her the glory of her new form – the flawlessness and radiant pulchritude. It readily seemed as though the flesh was crafted to show off the attire, her form equally pleasing to the eye as that of any model. Also, it felt glorious, the soft satin smoothness, like milk beneath her fingertips, brushing her skin, making her squirm within its opulence. Arching her back she let her hands roll down her sides, diving and ascending upon her curves, her broad smile stretching across her painted lips.
   She had always dreamed of a cure, of being reborn and being able to live a fantasy of being beautiful. It was her ultimate escapist dream, and now it was real.
   Movement in her peripheral vision caused Tyra to snap her attention aside. Her eyes focused to a degree impossible for normal vision, drawing forth an image from behind the curtains, a human form moving through the rippling sheets.
   Rising onto her knees she watched with central intensity as he emerged. The man was moving deep into his thirties, with a slender mane of dark red hair running along the centre of his head, falling down the back to his waist. A tattoo of a scorpion was painted along the shaven left side of his skull. The depicted chitin sparkled in the light and was embellished with several exposed circuit implants – neural reservoirs to allow the speedy upload and assimilation of data. Silver rings dotted his lobes, and his features were dark and sinister, the eyes betraying a feral and cold nature that was almost inhuman. Clad in white close fitting attire, a set of tall grey boots and matching baggy jacket complemented the stark garments, the wide shoulders and high collar trimmed with silver. He moved with a confidence gleaned from arrogant power, and thus she surmised that this was in all likelihood, the person responsible for her purchase.
   'Where am I?' she questioned, panning her gaze over her shoulders in search of other hidden denizens, confirming they were indeed alone.
   'In my home,' he announced frankly, seating himself at the end of her bed, his eyes fixed upon her, staring intently. 'Where you are to provide services to myself, and my guests,' he added, his words banishing all semblance of civility.
   Without warning he moved forward towards her, reaching out to snag her new body with licentious fingers. The spontaneous advance caused her outrage to boil over.
   Recoiling suddenly, her actions had him to turn his groping clutch into a dive, the extended hand clamping to her trailing bicep and anchoring Tyra suddenly before she could flee the surface of the bed.
   Jerking her head around she regarded the grip, and rapidly followed it back until she saw his broad grin, the tight smile exposing lust-clenched teeth.
   'And where do you think you are going?' he hissed.
   A lifetime of passivity evaporated under the leering stare, and her hands furled into tight clubs.
   The new flesh moved like lightning, the perfectly sculpted artificial muscles and tendons swinging around to aim a deadly punch at the source of angst. A ferocious jerk afflicted her arm and torso, causing her to spasm aside and drop to the floor. Her body had acted contrary to the demands of her mind, the velocity of her sanguinary attack leading her fall, the treachery leaving her stunned.
   Collapsing heavily onto her flank, the thick carpet proved an excellent cushion, leaving her sprawled at his feet.
   'A vain attempt, but a lesson more easily learned by experience than through verbal education,' he purred smugly, dropping his hovering hand to the bed and leaning back to lounge upon the soft sheets.
   Looking up at the ceiling, he gently kicked his legs as they dangled over the edge.
   'As your owner I am quite safe from any ravages you may decide to unleash upon me, and you are quite bound to do my bidding, no matter how distasteful you may find it.'
   Flexing her body, she shivered upon the floor, clawing at the carpet, overwhelmed by a sense of bitter rage that she was powerless to exorcise.
   'Now, Tyra, I command you to get up here,' he uttered, the demand finding reception in her body and causing it to act without any help from herself. The frame remained completely oblivious to her most fervent demands to stop it from performing that which he had requested.
   As she arose he grabbed her wrist and with a sudden yank caused her to flip face down onto the bed. Before she could move he was upon her, his weight settling on her back while she flailed vainly beneath his desire. Hooked fingers slid into the cleft of her buttocks and ferreted out the back of her thong, the feel of such attention making her gasp in dismay. With the slender strip in his grasp, a sudden abrupt haul removed the exiguous underwear amidst the soft rip of delicate fabrics. The barbaric stripping tugged her abdomen into the air and then let it fall back, bouncing to a halt upon the soft mattress. Tyra stared up, chagrin at her inability to mount any coherent form of defence against the impending ravishment. All she could do was paw at him with weak limbs, all the strength having fled, leaving her fingers to slide ineffectually upon his arms and body.
   Motivated by the subtlest whim, a backhanded slap emerged from nowhere and danced across her slightly exposed cheek, spinning her head aside and filling the flesh with stinging heat. The sharpness of the sensation was startling, the level of what should have been a meagre pain causing her to wilt, her psyche unwilling to inspire another dose of such intolerable feeling. Unbridled euphoria ruled his face, his delight in subduing her, in defeating her struggles and indulging his passion without any chance of her stopping him.
   Locking digits upon a shoulder and lifting himself upon his knees, he straddled her form and flipped her beneath him. Clapping hands to her shoulders once more, the fingers tightly caressed the rounded joints, luxuriating in their shape while he stared across the rest of her body, the gaze lingering across her breasts and inviting contours.
   'Yes, a wise investment, more so for the other purposes I can put to this innocent frame. But enough of that, you will learn such things when the time comes. Right now I want to see the Corporation's meaning of – fully functional,' he announced, using the words like a weapon to maliciously batter her psyche while he stretched out to lie alongside the fearful captive.
   Flipping her arms over her head, he locked her wrists there with one hand. His strength easily overcame her deliberately feeble body, and his body moved atop hers while his other hand chose to explore. Fingers meandered down her torso and squeezed her assets, leaving Tyra to grit her teeth. Her face screwed up in endurance and disgust, unable to do anything against this ignominy.
   Growling in her artificial skull, she tried to tell herself that this was not happening, that it was some horrible daydream afflicting her while she snoozed in her bed. But the delusion failed to gain roots and was revealed as a dim lie. What made it far worse though, was the pleasure rising from the touch, her skin so eager to be touched, the slightest caress sending ripples of willing response through her system. The contradiction tore her between revelling in his touch, and reviling it.
   When his hand began to swing lower her straining efforts to escape grew more intense and she writhed beneath him, her legs kicking while she tried desperately to get free. The fight against his lust only seemed to please him all the more, and when her breath quickened to an uneven pant, he manoeuvred his legs between hers, slipping between them and starting to draw down his trousers.
   With a brutal glower residing in his eyes he removed his tumescent length, guiding himself into her. Locating her sex, he clamped a hand to her breast as he forced an entry, pushing with his hips, applying steadily increasing potency.
   Clenching her tracts tightly shut to try and deny him, she wailed in loathing and shrieked for aid, her howls causing him to throw back his head and laugh aloud in amusement. The raucous cackles burned her ears while he casually thrust onward into her writhing form.
   Her spasming legs did little more than stroke his, the soft stockings sliding weakly and proving to be little more than an arousing tickle to the villain.
   With a final push he defeated her defences and sheathed himself deep inside her, her new level of sensation allowing her to feel every aspect of the penetration. Amidst the shock of the intrusion was the explosion of unequalled bliss, a luscious sensation that seemed to melt her insides, mixing with the pain, scorching her thoughts.
   Stabbing violently, he drew screams from her throat. The burning tear while he employed his sex as an instrument of defilement caused her to wail for salvation, hiding her eager response to the assault within her bold hatred.
   'No one can hear you, no one cares. You are a possession, a thing, like this bed, or this room. You are a mere artefact to be used for its function and regarded only for its material value,' he whispered into her ear, his speeding breath hot upon her face, the words being a wound to her mind more grievous and painful than the truculent thrust of his impaling sex...

Shadows of Torment II

'Balthazar's the name, I'm your new owner and this is my home. Does that answer it succinctly enough for you?'
   The stranger sat himself on the end of the bed, and Petal backed warily away. 'Nobody owns me,' she hissed.
   'Really?' Balthazar brazenly reached out for her shoulder. Petal turned and started to scamper away but he had clearly anticipated her choice of flight. He jolted forward and managed to grab her trailing hair. The sudden pull to the follicles made her head course with mayhem. She froze and tensed against the distress. The pain and his presumption that he could manhandle her immediately inspired vigorous choler.
   'And where do you think you're going?' he asked.
   'Let go of me or I'll rip that hand off and make you eat it, you son of bitch,' she snapped in animal panic. The effects of this slight pull were almost more than she could bear. The fact that she may well be trapped in an artificial body, and that she had been auctioned, was making her numb with dread. Slavery to life supports was one thing, slavery to a wealthy pervert was quite another.
   'That cyborg body is certainly capable, but I'd like to see you try,' he mumbled.
   The revelation of the truth made her wince inwardly. While she continued to remain stunned, Balthazar started to reel her in by the rein on her head. Petal grimaced as she was pulled back towards him and then her patience finally snapped.
   With a snarl she spun around and threw a ferocious punch at him. It stopped dead in the air an inch from his smiling face. Petal stared at him in alarm and then glared at the frozen limb. She fought to make it connect and even leaned into it to try and push it forward, but the arm refused to continue its passage.
   'What the...' she began.
   'That's one lesson. Here's another.' Balthazar touched one of the bio-ports that dwelt amidst his tattoo, and suddenly cyan arcs of lightning were playing about her form. The cocoon of rippling jagged curls of energy embraced her entirely and savaged every particle of her new anatomy. Petal hollered in dismay and dropped face first onto the bed. Her arms and legs thrashed madly but she could not stop the assault.
   The man responsible for her grief released the control and watched impassively when she sank back into the covers. Petal lay inert and gasped for breath. Her eyes were kept tightly closed and she prayed to wake up. The excruciating discipline had been more than she could have ever predicted. She could not face it again.
   She felt hands upon her. The gentle examination of her phased form rolled up and down her legs and then touched her rear.
   'That looked painful. Here, let me soothe those frazzled and very expensive nerve fibres.'
   Petal gave a gasp when she was suddenly flipped over. Before she could react the stranger climbed up and pinned her wrists to the bed with his hands. His legs straddled her stomach and she looked up at him with a scowl while her enfeebled legs shifted against the satin. Petal tried to get up but all the magnificent strength that had previously possessed her had vanished like a morning mist.
   'What... what have you done to me?' she asked shakily.
   'Me? Nothing. Nothing at all. But the Corporation installed a few little surprises for you, ones that I specifically asked for. Wait... so, oh yeah, I guess I did do it, in a way,' he chuckled.
   Petal closed her eyes. 'I'll kill you for this.'
   Balthazar taunted her with another giggle. 'Oh stop being so surly. It's a real pain. Look, you've spent your whole life as a wretched husk. Don't you want to know what pleasure is? Does it really matter where it comes from?'
   Balthazar leaned in and she felt his lips brush her neck. She quaked and gave a long sigh of sultry relish. The pain had been unbelievable, but the pleasure was just as acute. She surged beneath him when he started to offer detailed kisses to her throat, and then craned her head up to offer him more to work with.
   'Stop... I... it...' she stammered. Petal wanted him to stop, but the allure of such divine feelings was hard to deny.
   'Shhhh. Hate me all you want, but I can do whatever I wish with you. So you can either enjoy it or loathe it. I really don't care. Right now though, I just want to sample what the Corporation has been managing to accomplish with fully functional pleasure cyborgs.'
   Petal felt him pull her arms down to her sides, where he kept his hold secure and began to slowly kiss his way down across her collarbone. She desperately wanted to revile this activity, to swat him aside and flee, but the effect of soft skin on her new enhanced hide was too entrancing.
   'Stop, pleeeease,' she hissed desperately.
   'Ask me again and I will,' he said.
   Petal's chest stretched up from the covers and her thighs clamped together when his mouth encompassed a nipple and a flitting tongue danced to the tip. Her words were stalled by the heady gasps of delight she was forced to release. The words to make him stop gathered in her throat but could not escape. He moved to the other, and when he was assured of her acquiescence his hands gradually slipped from her wrists and moved inward.
   Hunched over her, Balthazar began to carefully caress and stroke her assets while continuing to attend her nipples with his expert oral ministrations.
   A hand started to lower down her body and her thighs started to spread when it approached. Her own hunger for sensation had taken over and her body was almost responding automatically in order to acquire more. She was helpless against mere touches, lost to kisses and defeated by delight.
   His fingers stroked her sex and she gave a creaking whimper of strain from having to lie still. Her hands clenched into the covers and squeezed with all their might because of the sheer ecstasy rocking her pussy. Was this how normal healthy humans felt, or were her responses as enhanced as the rest of her?
   'What do you want?' he asked softly.
   A subtle pinch captured her clit and started a minute rolling motion. It made her cry out with bliss. The kisses to her nipples returned and her instincts rashly spoke after ignoring her dignity.
   'Take me! I want to feel you fuck me! Please! Now! I'm begging you! Fuck me!' she cried. There was a quick rustle of cloth and Petal began to question whether she had actually said these words. Had she actually just petitioned her ravishment? The truth was dramatically exposed when a stern cock touched the lips of her pussy and then shot forward.
   Petal's scream reverberated through the chamber and there was the soft rip of satin being torn when the strength of her grips was applied to the sheets in full. Her entire scope of sensation seemed to shrivel and become a magnified storm between her legs. Every tiny detail of each slow thrust rushed through her startled mind and she was left paralysed by it.
   Balthazar withdrew and grabbed his length. He swirled the tip around her quaking pussy and tickled her roused clit before he again sank himself into her. She felt him push to her deepest recesses and the swollen invading shaft retreated so it might continue its diving rate.
   A vague glimmer of her resentment returned, but all it managed to do was have her lift her hands to his chest and try to fend him off with tiny enervated shoves that did more to excite him than deter him. His thrusts became deeper and harder and the scorching rhapsody made her wail.
   Balthazar answered this squeal by lowering a little so that her hands slipped up his chest, and then he readily engulfed the fingers in his mouth. Petal cried out afresh. She was at the mercy of a sexual beast and her own wanton cravings would not let her try to stop their liaison.
   Without warning he retreated and grabbed her thigh. Pliant from pleasure, Petal did nothing save shudder when he cast the leg over and rolled her onto her front. A hand darted between her legs and pinched her clit once more. The sudden influx caused her hindquarters to leap up from the covers.
   Balthazar held her there with his infernal grip, and she smothered her face into the covers and shrieked. The pleasure was abominably intense, and when it became pain she could not differentiate which sensation was what.
   The pinch offered little pulls from side to side that made her sway and her thighs to flash with bursts of tension. Petal's hands again sank into the covers beside her head and the digits easily pierced the fabrics, and then even managed to penetrate the surface of the mattress. Another finger ran into her body like a minor manhood, and once it captured her moisture it exited and then plunged into her rear. Her tight sphincter erupted with shock, anguish, and delight to such a degree that her clawed fingers started to pull back and carve great wounds in the mattress. The dense fabrics could not hope to hold her libidinous berserker state and her head jerked up to release the previously muted squeals in all their raging clarity.
   The finger tickled her insides and wriggled around beyond the fleshy barricade. Petal wanted to close her legs and try to eject him, but the pinch to her clit would not allow it. The finger fled sharply and the same hand dropped to spank her rear. A series of six sharp claps laid hot zones to her quivering buttocks, and as her thighs slowly started to close he added more to her inner thighs to make sure they moved apart to offer her to his designs in a most brazen fashion.
   Each swat of his hand brought a bark of surprised licentious fervour and his stern control over her clit started to become more brutal. Slight pulls and twists made her fight to stay still, and when she thought she could take no more he arose and sheathed himself within her pussy once more. The spiteful play had made her more sensitive and even more receptive to the invasion of his cock, and she felt ready to pass out from the experience.
   Balthazar grabbed her forearms and she did not resist when he brought them out of the tears in the mattress and applied holds to her wrists. He twisted her arms up behind her back, pushed her face into the bed and started to slam his turgid shaft as deep as he could.
   Petal's eyes bulged and her maw remained wide while sound failed to emerge. She was now mute against the event.
   Balthazar kept her hands together with one of his, and employed the freed one to continue with the odd spank or to reach under and tweak her nipples. He would change hands to make sure both sides gained his full attention, and all Petal could do was struggle weakly and pant.
   The man who had purchased her reborn anatomy decided to torment her with words in addition to his eerily seductive lust. 'No one can hear you. No one cares. You are a possession, a thing, like this bed or this room. You are a mere artefact to be used for its function and regarded only for its material value,' he hissed...

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