“We’re done for the night,” Rumm announced. “Let’s leave these two alone to get some… rest. After all, we need them fit and firm tomorrow night as well.” Turning to Kerrigan, he said, “Get as much rest as you can. We’ll make sure you’re going to need it.”
Laughing, he and the others filed out, some of them taking the time to spit at the crying, cum-covered ghost before leaving. And so, Kerrigan was left there, crying, cum leaking out of her holes and dripping down from her face, too exhausted, pained and horrified to even move, despite feeling more filthy than ever before in her pitifully short memory.
On the bed next to hers, Nova had stopped crying and was now finally finding the strength to get up again. Sniffling away the last tears and sobs, she walked over to the small sink area on trembling legs, grabbing a towel to clean her own face of cum before getting a second one, sitting down on Kerrigan’s bed, her slender hand lightly resting on the crying mind-wiped ghost’s shoulder.
Sarah flinched as the blonde woman touched her, sliding across the bed until her back was against the wall with her legs between her and Nova. November Terra, for her part, immediately backed away from her, raising her hands. “Easy…” she said, her voice quiet. “Easy, girl, you’re safe now… for the moment, anyway.”
Gradually, Kerrigan let her breath slow, lowering her hands and accepting the offered towel from her roommate. She grimaced as she dragged it over the sore tissue between her legs, the tender skin burning under the touch of the fabric before she turned it over and tried to clean her face. Her hair was a lost cause, however — too much cum was already dried, and there was no place to wash it out in the bare dormitory.
Learning back against the wall, the ginger ghost pressed her legs tightly against her chest and wrapped her arms around them in a hug, rocking herself slightly as she tried not to cry. In the center of the room, visible from Kerrigan’s bed, Nova stood straight in the center of the room, her body covered by tiny bruises and a slight sheen of sweat, glistening in the dim light like the patron goddess of abused women. She waited patiently, staring at the red maned ghost with a blank expression, devoid of any emotion.
“Are you alright now?”
Sarah shook her head miserably. “No…” she whispered, finally losing the fight against her tears. Wet drops few down her face, and she hated herself for the weakness even without any of her abusers here to witnesses it. “Why are they doing this?”
Nova barked a laugh, a small thing with no amusement in it. “Because they can.” She shook her head. “It isn’t even illegal. We’re Psychics — Mutants. As far as the confederacy is concerned, we’re not people — we’re property.”
“That’s…” the amnesiac woman started to say, but words failed her. “That… that is…”
“Barbaric?” the blonde suggested. “Cruel? Monstrous?”
“I was going to say Insane,” Kerrigan finished. “They need us to be the best ghosts we can… they can’t possibly expect this to work.”
Nova sat on the bed next to Sarah, and this time the red head did not flinch away when she lay her hand on her arm. “And why not? They can do anything they like, and just wipe our memories at the end and we won’t remember a thing. Before you came in here you thought the best of the confederacy, didn’t you? You thought they were angels.”
The ghost trainee was suddenly extremely grateful for the neural dampeners installed in both of their skulls. It prevented them from directly reading each other’s thoughts and memories, even if emotions were transmitted anyway… and Kerrigan felt sure she did not want to see what this blonde girl remembered. “But what about…”
Nova interrupted with a raised hand and a knowing smile. “What about the actual training? You remember all of it still, don’t you… how your abilities work, how to aim and climb and fire, how to fight and hide?” The blonde ghost shook her head sadly. “They don’t need to remove any of your instincts or skills, just the specific memories attached to them. The first time you use the skill, you’ll make new memories that will consciously remind you how to do it.”
Kerrigan opened her mouth and closed it several times, starting and stopping questions faster that her body could process. At last, as a horrific thought occurred to her, she could help but ask…
“How many times have had this conversation?”
November got up and climbed into her own bed. “You don’t want to know. You’ve been here at least a year longer than I have.” She wrapped the covered around her battered body, hiding it from sight.
“How do you remember?”
The other ghost didn’t answer the question. “Get some sleep. We’ll need it tomorrow.”
She couldn’t help but ask. “What’s tomorrow.”
“Training. And then I’m sure Rumm will pay you another visit… he’s completely obsessed with you.” She pulled the cover over her head, completely shielding her from the other ghost… but it did nothing to disguise the wave of panic and terror and shot through Nova at the thought.
Shuddering, Kerrigan pulled her own covered over her abused form. She knew that the Lieutenant was madly focused on her… she had seen that clearly enough, even without entering his thoughts. She wished she understood why… or then again, perhaps she didn’t want to know after all. Curling up beneath the rough, cheap sheets, Sarah Kerrigan quickly wept herself into oblivion.
Her sleep was mercifully dreamless, but still too short before she was rudely awakened by a sharp pain between her legs. A rough hand was on her chest, mauling her tits brutally, adding to the pain and reminding her very much of where she was and what had been done to her. As a soft whimper escapes her lips and she tried to squirm away, she heard a rough, though unknown voice, “Ah, she’s wake… time to start the day, whore!”
A hard slap brought her to her senses and another whimper from her parched, aching lips. Now that the bruises had time to fully form, her entire body seemed on fire, though the pain between her legs was still the worst. Forcing her eyes open, she stared into the faces of two soldiers she did not know, though their pure lust and sexual greed would be obvious even to a non-psychic. They were not marines, probably common guards, but that did not make them any less of a threat. One of them, the one mauling her tits, had also rammed two fingers up her dry cunt and was brutally fucking her with them, probably had done so for a while.
“No… please…” she whispered, turning her head to the side so she did not have to look at her abusers, her bruised cheeks flushing with shame at being reduced to a begging, crying wreck like this.
“Oh yes… you had enough rest… get up!”
As he grabbed her by her arm and pulled her off the bed, at least his fingers slipped from her abused, sore cunt, granting her some relief. Roughly, her knees landed on the cold metal floor, adding fresh bruises to her battered form. Looking up, she saw both men standing in front of her, grinning down at her quivering form. Their cocks were already out… and already rock-hard.
“We don’t have time for… niceties, so just open your mouth!” One of them said, grabbing her head and forcing her face against his crotch. The moment her lips parted, her entire being too weak to truly resist, he proceeded to ram his cock into her mouth and down her throat in one go, not even bothering to order her to suck it.
Instead, he immediately started to brutally fuck her face, making her gag hard while his cock pumped in and out of her throat, grunting in pleasure, his thrusts as deep and hard as he could make them, pounding her mouth like a cunt.
Barely awake, Kerrigan was almost sent back into unconsciousness again by his brutal abuse, but before the lack of breath could make her faint, he already came, flooding her mouth with a generous amount of his sperm, forcing his length as far down her throat as he could while he spurted his load, leaving her little choice but to swallow.
After he had pulled out and delivered another slap to her face for good measure, she was immediately grabbed by his comrade, who wasted no further time and slammed his own length into the gasping woman’s mouth, fucking her face with equal, if not greater, ferocity than his comrade.
He did not take as long as the other to cum, though, when he did, he pulled out, holding her face by the chin before his cock sparted to spew, painting her face with his sperm, cum splattering all over her disgusted features. When he was done, he wiped his cock clean in her hair, laughing while she wept, tears and spit and cum dribbling from her face.
“Alright, we’re almost too late. They want her clean,” his comrade reminded him. The other nodded, zipping up again. “Yeah, right…” he acknowledged, grabbing Kerrigan by the arm and dragging her back to her feet. “Let’s get going, cunt!”
Quickly, they half pushed, half dragged her through the corridor and into what obviously was a simple shower room. “Don’t move till we tell you to!” one of the men spat, showing her against the wall so hard she cried out as her bruises protested.
A second later, a burst of ice-cold water struck her head, shoulders and tits, making her cry out again, this time in surprise and shock, the water painfully cold against her exposed skin. Reflexively, she tried to get away but was roughly shoved against the wall again. They had turned the nozzle on full force, the water battering her ravaged form relentlessly, until she slid down to a sitting position, weeping helplessly, rocking back and forth while the cascade of water continued.
Of course, they would not spend heated water on her when cold water would do the trick just as well. The fact that it was uncomfortable and, after a while, almost painful, was probably a perk rather than a deterrent. The two soldiers at the very least seemed to be enjoying it, laughing as she cringed and squirmed.
She wondered how long they would keep her there, but it mattered little. She could hope for a short time, but in the end, she would be here for as long as they wished. And just as she thought things had gotten as bad as they could, one of them grinned and said, “You know what? I need to take a leak…” Still grinning, he stepped towards her, pulling out his cock again. “Why don’t you say ‘aaah’, bitch?” he snarled, aiming his cock at her weeping face.
As the first splash of piss hit her, she began to wail loudly. The water washed it away immediately, but the sheer humiliation was too much. Quivering, weeping, she could do nothing but sit there, endure this new degradation, the sensation of his piss hitting her body before being washed away showcasing her impotence more than anything had before.
Kerrigan was pulled from the shower in a daze, too overwhelmed by her exhaustion and humiliation and powerlessness to resist as she was carelessly dried by the guards and dragged out into the hall. Her mind being so weak and tired, however, didn’t dampen her psychic nature… it actually increased it. While the ghost was too ignorant to understand presently, the necessary memories have been stripped away from her, much of her telepathy was unconscious, and was only kept contained by her conscious mind. As such, felt like she was out of her own body, and instead swimming through a sea of though and memory.
The thoughts of the guards were the closest to her. She could feel their contempt for her, the way they thought of her as a mutant and an abomination. They didn’t even consider themselves bad men, and they would never think of heaping this kind of abuse on a “real” woman… in fact, both of the hypocrites thought of themselves as gentlemen. But to them Kerrigan was fair game. She was just an animal that had to be taught its place and controlled for the sake of humanity… and the fact that she was pretty too look at and has tight holes was just a perk.
Further away, she felt… pain. Anger. Humiliation. And more pain. Where she was being taken, dozens of people were suffering, men and women alike. Other were observing and causing that pain, some with clinical, callous dispassion, others with sadistic glee. Ghost trainees… all the people being abused were her fellow trainees. The men suffered badly enough, overwhelmed by anguish and mental torture… but she could feel deep in her soul that, as was usual for human history, the more vulnerable of the two sexes suffered even worse.
A door opened when one of the guards palmed it, and Kerrigan was thrown into the room, still naked and damp and freezing. She landed at the feet of a man with white boots, practically atop his feet. The ghost slowly raised her eyes, looking up his form. He was dressed entirely in white, white pants transitioning into a perfectly sterile and blank lab coat, up to his face where he wore some kind of focusing eyepiece over his right eye. Even his hair was white, faded with age.
God how she hated that color.
“Good morning, Subject 24601.” The older man said as he looked down on her nude form, a tiny small on his face. “Did you sleep well?”
Kerrigan stared at him in a daze. She couldn’t read a thing from this man, not even emotions. He was completely psi-blocked, a very expensive set of augmentations but one that she supposed made sense for a scientist who spent all of his time working with ghosts… but then, why weren’t the other pair of scientists here similarly blocked? Not even Lieutenant Rumm was this thoroughly immune to her telepathy.
“You seem confused, 24601. Do you recognize me?”
She did. He was Dr. Lictir, the physician who had overseen her mind wipe procedure, and who had spoken to her immediately afterward. She hadn’t noticed his complete immunity to psionics then because he was the first person she had met, and she wasn’t used to her mind seeking out other people yet… but now, just a few hours later, the doctor stood out like a sore thumb. “Yes…” she muttered, the voice quiet.
“Wonderful,” he said, smiling. “What you probably don’t remember is that I’m your primary teacher here… you are a very special girl 24601. Very valuable to the Confederacy… you should be honored to have the head scientist of the entire facility dedicated to you so completely.”
Kerrigan couldn’t help herself — exhausted as she was, her self control was suffering greatly. She all but spat the words as she yelled at him. “So valuable? Then why does everyone feel the need to rape me and treat me like a whore?”
The doctors one visible eye half closed in what looked like concern. “Oh dear… you still think you’re being abused? I had hoped the mind wipe would cure you of that delusion…”
Sarah looked at him, fury dying down to be replaced by uncertainty. The ghost was so used to feeling what people thought, what they felt, that she was terrible at reading people without the ability. The other scientists felt amusement at the words, and the guards still behind her all but glowed with humor and lust as they listened… but from the doctor himself she felt nothing. She couldn’t tell if she was being mocked and played with, or if he was earnestly unaware of her situation.
She had to try.
“Please sir… Doctor… It’s not a delusion. Lieutenant Rumm and his men spent all of last night abusing me. I don’t remember anything before that, but they do… I can see they’ve been doing it for months.” Kerrigan swallowed, her mouth dry as she felt malevolence radiating from everyone in the room but Dr. Lictir. “Please sir, you have to believe me…”
He just shook his head sadly. “Oh dear, you poor thing… so lost, unable to see what’s real…” he made a few marks on the tablet he held in his hand, as if jotting down notes. “I’ll have to think of another way to try to help you see reason… but that will have to be a chore for later. Right now, I need to get back to making you the best ghost you can be…”
He turned away from the red haired girl and towards the other scientists in the room. “Set her up.”
Kerrigan wept weakly as the doctors lifted her from where she knelt. She still couldn’t tell if Dr. Lictir was simply an idiot, or if she was being played with… but either way, it didn’t seem like it would matter. In neither case was he going to help her.
She tried to struggle as she was lain down in a chair and strapped to the device, but her exhausted limbs couldn’t put up enough of a struggle to even move the scientists, let alone the guards still waiting inside the room. Tears slid down her perfect face as she was again made completely helpless… in fact, even more helpless than she had been bound the night before, because this time even her head was strapped down, unable to move.
While they did this, Dr. Lictir was typing at a floating, well lit panel, speaking quietly to an adjutant hovering over the display in holograph. He continued to speak to it as the other scientists began attaching metallic leads to her head, the cold metal frigid against her skin. Kerrigan tried her hardest to wiggle away from the invading metal, but it was no use… not even when they finished with the leads and began with the needles.
Sarah screamed as the first of the pins was inserted into the soft tissue between her toes. She could trace the path of the stilleto steel by following the glimmering, mono-filament wire coming from a device overhead, before vanishing at the base of the inserted metal. The needle was slender, extremely so… incapable of doing any actual damage or even leaving a noticeable tract mark, but the young ghost’s nerves didn’t feel that way. To Kerrigan, it felt like she had been stabbed, the overly sensitive flesh objecting loudly as the sharp point pierced her and dug into muscle tissue, delivering a tiny, irrelevant injury… except to the one experiencing it.
“Such a beautiful reaction,” one of the doctors remarked.
“Concur,” another said. “Her sensations are fresh… at least in the short term, the mind wipe proceedure seems to reset her pain tolerances.”
“Regrettable…” one muttered before raising his head to his fellows. “Or perhaps not. It will likely mean even more effective training methods.”
The scientists all nodded together before the first man spoke again. “Agreed. This should be explored.”
The entire time they were talking, Kerrigan was sobbing, begging for them to take the needle from beneath her skin… and she was completely ignored, like they didn’t even hear her.
And that was only the first needle. A hundred more followed, every single one of them making her screech in protest and agony… but her torments were never remarked upon by the men in lab coats, who talked about her reactions as if she were not there at all. Into her legs, the backs of her knees, her thighs, her fingertips and armpits and neck and abdomen and neck the needles were inserted, all connected by mono-filament strands back to the device hanging over her head, looking ominously like the engine of one of the skimmers she had used somewhere on Tarso…
Her mind slammed hard on the memory, but she fought to hold onto it. She had seem something like this before, somewhere in her old life… and she was unwilling to let it go. Knowing as she did now what kind of monstrous place this was, the theft of her memories now seemed to her like it had been the first rape of many, the first in existent memories, anyway… and if she could remember anything from before that procedure, it meant that they hadn’t been destroyed… only buried, hidden away, and her brain conditioned not to look for them.
“My, look at this!” Dr. Lictir said, and Kerrigan opened her eyes. She hadn’t realized that she had shut them, but in her struggle for memory they had closed… and now, hovering just before her, was a huge, translucent projecting of a brain, floating three dimensional in the middle of the air. Parts of the brain were lit up in different colors, and they flickered rapidly… and Kerrigan realized she was looking at her own brain, as interpreted by the metal leads buried beneath her mane. “She is, if I’m not mistaken, trying to access a old memory. Curious.”
In the midst of her distraction, the memory had slipped away from her… but Sarah knew that it was there, somewhere. Dimly, she was aware as the EKG changed again, and Dr. Lictir sighed. “No longer. Oh well.” He turned back to the keyboard he had been typing at. “Adjutant, are we ready to begin?”
The vaguely female holographic projection began to speak, but was interrupted by one of the doctors. “Not quite yet, Dr. I still have a few more needles to insert.”
The white haired lead scientist sighed in disgust. “Well, hurry up then. I don’t have all day.”
The man who had interrupted approaching Kerrigan again, needles already in his hand. “Everyone’s favorite part,” he said, and the other scientists laughed. Then, slowly, he lowered the needle toward the ghost’s right breast. She tried to shrink away from it, to squirm, but her bindings kept her absolutely still. The man brought the needle in contact with her nipple, but for the moment just let it rest gently on the trembling surface, hard with cold and terror. The scientist prodded it gently, enjoying it as Kerrigan began to make a whimpering sound in her throat.
She was panting harshly, her body straining at the straps holding her down in completely futile desperation, knowing with every ounce of her being that there was nothing she could do to prevent the coming agony… and needing to try anyway. “Please,” she got out, the voice broken and pathetic through the tears. “Please…”
It was perfectly positioned now, the tip of the needle at the center of Kerrigan’s nipple. He paused for a moment, smiling into her horrified eyes, flush with tears. Then, slowly enough for her to feel every movement, he pushed it in.
Unbelievable agony. The breast was mostly fatty tissue, with few veins to damage, so the needle was almost incapable of inflicting actual damage… but it hurt like fire, like her flesh was burning from within as the sharp point tore through her skin and tissue, her nerve endings screaming. Immediately, the ghost was also screaming, her beautiful voice filling the room with the sound of her anguish.
And then he pushed another needle into her other nipple, and the world vanished into a haze… and Kerrigan, thankfully, lost consciousness.
She was brought back with a cruel slap to her face. “Wake up slut!” the scientist with the needles said. “We need you awake, or you aren’t learning.”
The pain in her nipples was awful, agonizing… but at least it wasn’t sharp anymore. Kerrigan still couldn’t move, but she also couldn’t help herself from continually flicking her eyes downward and trying to see the shafts of slender steel impaled within her tits. To her dismay, they were too deep into her flesh for her to see any more than the wires connecting them to the machine above her… the machine that she was just now realizing was beginning to come to life.
Over her head, Kerrigan could hear the hissing steam of pneumatic pressure being released and of gears beginning to spin as the engine within it came to life, familiar mechanical sounds muffled, but still audible. One by one, the lights on the bottom flicked from red to green, indicating readiness.
“Adjutant, we are ready to begin.” Dr Lictir said, smiling pleasantly at the bound ghost.
The holographic projection of a woman beeped. “Affirmative sir. Beginning cycle at 1% of maximum output.”
There was a crack of power in the machine above Sarah’s head, the scent of ozone… then every nerve in her body sprang to life and began to scream in her mind. Agony. Heat. Cold. Her body began to shiver and sweat at the same time, trembling as it reacting to contradictory sensations flaring up at random all over her body. And it hurt… it hurt worse than having the needles pressed into her breasts, it hurt worse than her anal rape had, it hurt worse than anything she could remember.
Then it got worse. As her body was assaulted, a blue light came from the machine overhead and her mind was suddenly attacked in similar fashion. Psionic pressure began to press at her will, crushing it beneath a vast weight. Instinctively, Sarah fought back, and before she was even aware of what she was doing she had created a shield of willpower between herself and the attack. Unfortunately for her, the moment she realized that she had done it without thinking, her rational mind came back into play… and she had no idea how she had done it. Inevitably as the sea chipping away at a cliff, her psychic defenses started to break.
Through the cracks, the pressure started to dig into her, finding thoughts to play with and bring to her attention. Rumm’s rape of her ass last night came to the front of her mind, combined with perfect recollection of every physical sensation it had included. Even while she was simultaneously cooked and frozen by the machine, her body began to report the torment of her ass being ripped open to her mind again… but this time, the sensations felt sharper, most crisp. She was experiencing the anguish of her abuse not through the crude medium of her body telling her brain of the sensation, but her mind coming up with the information itself.
Frantically, Kerrigan struggled to repair the breach in her mind and stop this agony before it drove her mad. The memory of her molestation was a thousand times worse experienced like this, being put into the front of her mind with even more clarity than she had felt while it had happened to her in the first place. The red haired ghost had no doubt that if she could not get the thoughts out of her head they would kill her, tear her psyche apart until not even another mind wipe could bring her back from over the brink.
Finding willpower inside her that she hadn’t known she possessed, Kerrigan fought to shove the memories away from her, walling them off one at a time behind a metal shield of concrete and fury. The pressure came against that wall like a battering ram, the impacts of psychic force slamming against her defenses again and again, with each attack making her wince… but the wall held. The ghost found it in her to give a small smile, despite her agony.
Then the adjutant beeped again, and said, “2% capacity.”
Again, she shrieked, the pain hammering, pounding at her, ripping through every nerve ending like a knife through silk. She felt her muscles protest, her bones creak as she tensed up harder than what was healthy for anybody, even as fit and trained as her, adding to her agony. But still, the barrier held.
Somewhere within her, Kerrigan found a faint memory, more like a rote than an actual engram, a technique meant to stabilise wounded psychics and prevent them from accidentially hurting themselves and others when going into shock. Using her own potential as ephemeral hands, she grabbed ahold of the agony and transformed it, using it to reinforce the mental wall where it began to crack, focusing on the pain to strengthen her mind, not allowing any conscious thought to surface and potentially compromise her.
“ Very good”, Lictir commented, his hated voice echoing through the haze of pain, dull and distant, “ some defense mechanisms have become instinctual rather than conscious. This represents marked progress.”
The adjutant merely commented with a dry yet ever-so-helpful, “ 3% capacity.” Lictir nodded, saying to Kerrigan, “ This is getting better and better. You barely made it to 4% during the last session. Increase until the mental walls break.”
Kerrigan barely heard him, concentrating on keeping her mental walls intact while preventing the agony from overwhelming her. The fact that a lapse in vigilance and mental strength would mean that she might be assailed by more unpleasant memories of previous rapes and degradations actually worked in her favour for once, granting her that extra quantum of strength she needed.
Still, despite her inner triumph, her body still screamed in absolute torment and soul-shattering agony. With her eyes squeezed shut so tightly her eyelids ached, she did not notice some of the scientists smile at the sight of her, naked and rigid, suffering under the needles and the shocks, their eyes showing much the same sexual greed as the marines had the night before.
At the moment, Lictir’s presence was the only thing keeping her from receiving a fresh set of cocks into her holes.
“ 4% capacity”, the adjutant announced calmly. And still, the mental shields held.
“ Hmm…this is all well and good…but, just as muscle mass grows best under strain, so does mental fortitude. Increase strength of psychic assault and pain inducers by 50%”, Lictir calmly commanded and the machine was quick to obey.
Kerrigan threw her head back so violently she knocked it against the back of the infernal chair, but it barely registered. Suddenly, what had been her instrument, the pain she could focus on, was ripped out of her hands and rammed against the mental wall she had erected, shattering it under the impact of ephemeral force and brutal agony. Again, she screamed, so loudly her voice broke.
And suddenly, without the barrier protecting her anymore, the effluvia of yet another terrible memory washed across her consciousness. She was on her belly, on Nova’s bunk bed, with the blonde ghost lying on her back in front of her, gargling helplessly on the cock shoved down her throat. Her cunt and ass had already been well-abused, leaking copious amounts of cum…cum they were forcing Kerrigan to lap up. From somewhere behind her, one of the soldiers held her head in place, pushing it down into Nova’s crotch constantly, laughing while he slapped Kerrigan’s raised ass while the ghost shuddered with horror and disgust…
The psychic assault hadn’t just broken her defenses, it had shattered them. The mental probe blasted its way into the depths of her brain, accompanied by physical agony she had never dreamed of… and that wasn’t even the worst of it. That memory, the thought of her between Nova’s legs… that had never happened, at least in her remaining memory. The scientists were raping her mind so thoroughly that they had broken through a portion of whatever blocks they had keeping her mind wipe intact, poking a tiny hole through it as easily as it had swept away her paltry psionic defense.
Kerrigan wanted to vomit. The thought of her head trapped against the blond woman’s cunt was sickening, even by comparison to what had already been done to her. She wished she knew why it bothered her so much, but deprived of any context from the rest of her life she had no idea. All that the red haired woman knew was that she would rather the hellish machine killed her than be made to do that.
The ghost had no warning when she passed out. The first she realized that she had been buried beneath the crushing weight of the cruel machine was when she woke up, her head pounding and her throat dry… but no longer in pain. She was still hooked into the machine, still bound to the chair with the needles impaled into her flesh, but their agony had virtually vanished into the general sense of soreness she felt. Compared to the pain the machined had provided her when it was online, the feeling of the piercing needles felt almost pleasant.
Someone was spraying her with a hose… that was what had woken her up. Apparently she had thrown up after all… one of the scientists soaked her naked form with the high pressure stream, blasting away the sweat and vomit and any tiny drops of blood from her multiple piercing, aggravated from her thrashing in agony. She felt too weak to do anything but tremble slightly as the frigid water washed over her, leaving her clean but frozen in its wake.
When the washing ended, she was shaking as her body tried to warm itself, heedless of how the contraction of her muscles aggravated the sharp metal inside her skin. Doctor Lictir was gone, the terminal he had occupied vacant. Only the trio of other scientists were in the room now… it had been one of them who had taken to cleaning her. They were clustered around her bound form, raking her eyes up and down her glistening wet body.
“Can we take her out of the chair?” one asked.
Another, the one who had directed the process of strapping her to the chair earlier, shook his head. “When the doctor returns, he might want to put her through another session, and if we have to hook her up again before he gets back we don’t won’t have time for any kind of fun.”
With sudden horror, her pain addled brain realized what was coming just a second before one of the white-coated scientists started to unbuckle his pants… white, of course. “Please, you can’t… not like this!”
Kerrigan flushed with shame when she realized what she had just said. Begging not to be raped was bad enough… but she hadn’t even done that. The best she could do was to plead for them not to rape her when she was so completely immobile, skewered by a hundred needles. In her mind’s eye, she could already envision that pain as their savage thrusts pushed needles further into her, slamming their points deeper with each trust of her hips.
The supervising man, the one removing his pants, looked at her with surprise on his face, as though he was surprised the test subject had even spoken. “Are you insane, 24601? You’ve been screaming your pretty little head off for a half hour… you can’t do that and then refuse to do anything about it! You should have tried to make your suffering sexy sexy… men have needs, you know.”
The ghost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was so… cruel, so petty and stupid. She shook her head, half sure she must be imagining her situation. “Please, no…”
The scientist sighed in disgust as he stepped between her spread legs, holding his cock in his hands. “Would someone please shut the test subject up?”
“Yessir,” one of the others said, grabbing a gag from the table and pressing it into her mouth, fastening the strap beneath her long hair. Even as she tried to fight against the intruding gag, her body was too exhausted to mount more than token resistance. The red maned girl was just glad the bondage kept her upright, or she was sure they would rape her face as well.
When Kerrigan’s silence was enforced by the gag, the leader of the trio smiled. “Much better,” he chuckled, holding his cock firmly as he began to press the head inside the ghost trainee, lubricated only by the water dripping from her folds.
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