I humbly submit these words to the noble audience, hoping that they qualify as kinky enough for the taste of those present. I pray that they will not provoke the anger of the Greatmighty Owner of this tribe, or any of his revered Acolytes. If this were however the case, please consider that they have been instigated. I would never have done this of my own accord ….
Let me also humbly point out that any remaining spelling and grammar errors are to blame on Bill G.

Ok …so we start from the proposed setting; Starbuck attached with ropes to a table, Tricia steering the arms to the default position.

Tricia takes a control pad that hangs from her belt. A few swift keystrokes, and one of the spider arms moves in front of Starbuck's face. The arm is multi-jointed, but unlike the model from nature, the joints allow movement in any direction. The extremity terminates in an open half cylinder. It is silvery on the outside, dark gray on the inside, with a pattern of golden dots. 'Look closely, love,' says Tricia, 'You're going to play an important part in the renewal of an old art.' She smiles, 'The art of torture. These are new style restraints. A revolutionary design, mostly y work, if I may say.'
A touch to the pad and two segments glide out of the cylinder's ends, and meet with a click. A soft burr, and the gray lining expands, fitting snugly on the limbs.
The victim on the table watches, not very impressed. Tricia tilts her head, chuckles softly. 'They are revolutionary, really. This will change the whole concept of restraint.'. She touches the panel again. Four spider arms move in unison, search for limbs, for wrists and ankles. They apply themselves, and inflate their lining. Starbuck looks not very impressed. But Tricia is not in a hurry. Tricia knows what this is about, what this gadgetry does. She unties the ropes, her enemy is now only held by the spider arms. 'Are you comfy, dear? Do you want to sit up? Just do it.'
Starbuck sits up; the mechanical arms allow her to move, within certain limits however. She finally sits with a leg dangling down on each side of the narrow table, leaning back with her hands on the surface behind her. Then she shrugs. 'Ok, it's novel, Tricia. I can see that this could come in handy, if you have a big prison and only a few guards. But this is not going to make me talk, you know. Not in a thousand years.'
Tricia leans against the table; her belly touches the flesh of her prisoner's hip. She laughs softly.
'No, this way it will not make you talk. This is the reward mode. There are other operating modes. The first one is the Freeze mode. If I select that, you are supposed to freeze. If you move, even a single millimeter, the restraints will punish you.' A touch to the path. 'Try to move, please.' With an indifferent look on her face, Starbuck moves her right foot. Instantly, her expression changes. Her eyes open wide, she cries out, a cry of anguish and pain, and looks bewildered at Tricia.
'Cute system, no ? Just lie still, very still, and all will be well.'
Tricia puts her hand on a smooth thigh, and starts to caress the warm flesh. Her prisoner closes her eyes, Tricia smiles. This will be fun. Her hand wanders on. Involuntarily, Starbuck moves. The restraints react, the electric generators send their pulses through her body, and she screams again.
Tricia laughs, and watches how Starbuck breathes heavily, recovering from the painful shocks. 'Ok, Star, I should not have done that. I took you by surprise, didn't I? I'm so sorry.'
Starbuck hisses back 'Be damned, dirty bitch. I'll get out of this, I swear it.'
'There is a chance, I admit it. But we will discuss that later. Now I'm going to pinch you, for calling me a bitch.' Tricia takes a little fleshy bud between two fingers. Then she smiles at Starbuck. 'Are you ready ? It will be all right, as long as you don't move, see ?' Starbuck's entire body hardens, eyes clenched shut, as she prepares for the pinch. But it does not come. Instead, there is a soft pulsing pressure, a caress, and a fingertip gliding over sensitive places. Starbucks eyes open, she looks bewildered, opens her mouth to speak. Tricia waited for that moment, and with Starbucks guard down, she pinches her as hard as she can.
The pain is so intense that Starbuck tries to push Tricia's hand away, and forgets about the restraints. When the shocks hit, they are so painful that she cannot scream, not breathe even. Her body arcs up, in terrible spasms, then falls back on the couch again. Now she lies still, softly whimpering, tears in her eyes.
Tricia looks at her, with a smile on her lips. Pain is simple. To resist pain is simple, is normal, and being unable to resist such pain is accepted, socially. There is nothing humiliating in that, nothing to be ashamed of. Betraying your friends under torture, you can get away with that. But to betray your friends for pleasure, that is something quite different. And that is what the machine is made for. When her prisoner regains consciousness, Tricia will demonstrate how the machine can accomplish that. It will not be a long wait


To be continued
©Y t D, 2003