Event Horizon – Chapter 8 – The Harem

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Hyperlinks in the text are intended as supplemental material, discussing elements of the science behind the science fiction. They are not intended as required reading for the story. Hyperlinks will be provided at the point in the story where it comes up, but all the links will also be collected at the bottom of the post for easy reading.

Thank you for reading! Me and my coauthor Darinost are gradually combining forces and blogs, so the joint comment section for our stories is currently located on discord! Come on in and let us know what you thought, we don’t bite.

Atalanta didn’t actually have lungs to be screaming for air. She didn’t actually have muscles to burn and ache. The soles of her feet couldn’t actually hurt from striking the ground too hard. None of that mattered as she sprinted as desperately as she could before throwing herself at the feet of a motionless Maria Keye, panting and trying desperately to catch her breath, and if it looked like she was groveling before the image of her Goddess, then it wasn’t an entirely wrong impression. “Please… M…Maria…” the captive Exalted breathlessly begged. “You can’t… can’t… keep me here…” She wasn’t used to being breathless, to needing to fight for her words… that was just one more thing she thought she had left behind forever with her new existence. Unfortunately, Maria did not seem interested in even slightly easing her time here.

The crazed, clones of the Exalted that Maria had unleashed to keep her occupied had been a constant peril, and Atalanta usually needed to flee to stay ahead of them. They were seemingly always in pursuit. Sometimes, she could escape them… usually by vanishing into some other torment. The rest of the time, they would inevitably catch her during their endless hunts across the digital darkness. Sometimes, if she was lucky, she would be gangraped by her own copies… their bodies morphing to meet their needs, growing false cocks if necessary, or having her worship their pussies. The rest of the time, it would be something worse. Sometimes, the maddened cannibals would eat her alive. Other times, they would drag her off to experience some other torment that Maria had prepared for her imprisonment. Usually by the time those were over Atalanta would feel half mad… and then she would be running from her copies yet again.

Atalanta’s stay within the mad scientist’s virtual world had so far been a phantasmagoria of hellish nightmares. Imprisoned and manipulated like a marionette on her strings, Maria had thrown her headlong from terror to terror, torture to torture, nightmare to nightmare. The experience of this minimalistically-constructed representation of Maria’s desires was like walking through a madhouse of violence and misery and sexual agony. Neither reason nor senses could help Atalanta in discerning what malevolent unreality was next to appear upon the boundless horizon.

Yet whatever the outcome, whatever the nightmare, Atalanta’s undoing would never be permanent. With complete control over all virtual reality, Maria determined even factors such as existence or death inside this limitless space. The only way her torment could be stopped was if the first Exalted wished it. Already, Atalanta had no idea how long this ordeal had even progressed in real time… she wasn’t even sure if the Kthid invasion had started and finished, or if only a few minutes had passed. Neither had she gained any knowledge why the foremost among the Exalted had turned into a malefactor whom could only be likened to Satan. 

“Maria… please…” Atalanta continued, her breath slowly catching up to her. Debasing herself as if in the presence of a superior being did not come naturally to a woman like her, but she could still hear the howling of her copies as they followed… she hadn’t gotten that far ahead of them before finding the scientist. “I’m your friend… please… we can work together. We can fix this!”

Maria remained almost motionless and haughty like an idol venerated in ancient times. Atalanta had no idea if this even was the real First Exalted manifested before her upon the plane or merely an illusion, an empty vessel meant to deceive and increase her misery. She thought it was the real woman, but this wouldn’t be the first time Dr Maria Keye had appeared holographically before her, materializing upon this checkered plane like a lone landmark, glowing like lighthouse in the distance with her golden sheen. The first time this had happened ― the occasion had turned out to be a mere trap. Her figure vanished almost like a vampire – reverting into a whirlwind of bats, and then suddenly the cannibals were all around her. Atalanta had screamed as they jumped her.

On the next few occasions, Atalanta had straight-out avoided Maria’s baleful figure like an ominous portent the next time she caught a look at her. Desperation and the never-ending horror calvary eventually compelled the former heroine to approach Dr Keye again, and it had actually been her. That time, however, she had declared that Atalanta didn’t seem desperate enough yet, and disappeared, leaving her for the cannibals to catch up to her once again. The next time it had been another ambush, and the time after that she still wasn’t sure as Maria had never said a word. On other occasions, the cannibals had eventually materialized upon the horizon to interrupt her primitive veneration, or the neon plane had disappeared underneath Atalanta’s feet and she had free-fallen into some new and unfamiliar hell. The First Exalted was toying with her psyche and well-being and doing so with all the whimsical ease of a sadistic child… and Atalanta was not even given an explanation why. All she had was this image which for some reason had been left out to her… An image to turn into an idol. And yet here she was again, throwing herself on the ground before Maria while her insane clones closed in on her, beseeching the technological goddess for clemency against the horrors of her world.

“Please Maria. Just tell me why… Say anything. Please!” she pleaded.

Being face-down and groveling against Maria’s feet, Atalanta did not notice the First Exalted move. Without obvious prompt, Maria’s high-held chin tucked downwards and gazed upon Atalanta’s green-glowing hologram, her vision as tranquil and evil as a demonic Buddha. The woman reached and seized a handhold of the prostrate Exalted’s long hair and tugged on it like a leash. Atalanta gasped, and Maria clicked her tongue. “Yes… I think you are properly seasoned,” she said as the rising howls of the cannibalistic women closed in on them. “It will be delightful to have a pet that I can take along for walks… Some company to enjoy the sights.”

The world around them dissolved, and the forest, the ground, and the insane Atalantas all vanished, turning into tiny motes of light like dust and blowing away in an unseen wind. The light faded completely a few seconds later, leaving them in an empty and dark void save for the glow from Maria, hovering in the darkness like a distant sun, and distant and softly glowing lines like that of a grid. She began to walk through the void, dragging Atalanta by the hair, and the featureless void supported her steps like it was solid ground. Her stride was inexorable and fixed, never slowing, and it made no allowance for the fact Atalanta had to crawl along – she needed to scramble to keep alongside her captor at the brisk and humiliating that she set.

Maria said nothing more… just casually walking with her hair as a leash for some time. It wasn’t for very long, but to Atalanta’s tired mind it felt much longer than it was before the arbitrary dark space around them started transmorphing. Mundane darkness and mathematical minimalism was replaced with opulent palatial interiors as, pixel by pixel, a marbled gallery that would not have been out of place in old Paris or Gilded Age America loaded into existence around them. Gazing about as much as possible, Atalanta found themselves inside what appeared to be a high-culture art gallery, high-roofed and white-walled with many stately columns upholding the ceiling. It looked sort of like the cross between an old billionaire’s art gallery and an ancient Greek temple. A luxurious red carpet rimmed with golden tussles stretched into the distance underneath them. Massive glass windows existed through which brilliant sunlight streamed, yet its rays provided no warmth. Along the pathway there existed many sizable alcoves that Atalanta intuitively understood would hold objects on display.

“Welcome to my home,” Maria said idly as she continued to pull Atalanta through.

This was her home simulation? Most of the Exalted maintained a simulated environment for themselves… it was good for their sanity to maintain a mortal-seeming VR at least most of the time. Atalanta’s was boring… it was a copy of her office when she was in the Marines. She used it as a familiar space to review documents, make plans, and do project work, and as far as she knew most of the Exalted did the same… making their own simulation as a permanent construct took up a lot of time and resources. Apparently, that didn’t bother Maria – she had built and maintained this whole virtual world for herself, so what was one broad temple? Then Atalanta’s thoughts were derailed as they passed the first alcove and she saw what was in it, shock dropping her jaw.

It really shouldn’t have been as big of a surprise as it was, given what she had seen on her first day here and her personal predicament, and yet there was nothing that could have prepared Atalanta for witnessing the fates of other heroines trapped inside of Maria’s gaol of torment. “Artemis and Harnet, appearing as a duo in this little show,” Maria spoke as if Atalanta needed an introduction as they looked through the window.

The entire format was presented in a theater-like setting, a tiny stage with red drapes hanging from the ceiling along the sides, providing a view into another virtual environment being run inside of this one. The two Exalted were accosted by what appeared to be hermaphrodite Maria Keye clones. A whole cadre of the copies had been produced to gangbang them, their bodies having shifted like her own cannibalistic copies were in order to proceed with the gangrape. Artemis’s rape was by far the most mundane of the pairing – she was having a train run on her. The woman’s mouth, ass, and cunt were being plugged by hostile golden glowing prongs, all sawing in and out of her body with the vigor of professional porn stars. The woeful exalted didn’t seem to notice Atalanta and Maria as they stopped before the window into that simulation, and Atalanta had no idea if they could perceive them… or if the physical frenzy of the rape would have prevented it even if they could. 

“Artemis… always the most overrated among the Exalted,” Maria observed in slightly-bored narration. “After all, she basically gained her accomplishments by birthright, you know? The first child born as a citizen of the Moon. Not even first child born to Lunar residents… just the first they dared not return to Earth for. The fact that her family was practically seignioral rulers of the moon of course had no impact on this arrangement. What did she really do save signing a piece of paper that handed the Moon over to the Federation?”

That was… quite an abridgment of the story. In telling it, Maria had flagrantly downplayed a brilliant career in politics, one that avoided all bloodshed and conflict at an hour when such misfortune was ripe for occurring. Artemis had served as a member of the Federation’s board of governors for decades after she had negotiated the Moon’s independence from Earth and its entry into the Terran Federation as its own state, and achieved dozens of other accolades, navigated dozens of other emergencies. For these achievements and more, Artemis had been an early choice to join the ranks of Exalted… especially since she was already in the process of dying of old age by the time Maria had returned to Earth. Her avatar had none of the age she had had as an elder statesman, however – she had returned to the beauty of the old videos of her that Atalanta had studied in school, that of the beautiful and charismatic leader. The Exalted woman’s patterns were in selenic silver, reflecting her homeworld on the Moon, and considering that Maria’s light was golden the gangbang really looked like the sun overcoming and overruling the effluence that the Moon could offer.

“Oh, cheap little thing…” the hard-thrusting Maria-clone that was pumping Artemis’s pussy mocked from inside the simulation. “You surrender your holes as easily as you surrendered your precious moon. Why do you cry, little toy? What’s the matter, I thought you liked giving in and giving up?”

Artemis gutturally shrieked even while her throat was being most violently gouged. The disparity between her suffering and the Maria-clone’s thrill was incredibly stark. Her expression was one of contorted anguished woe while Keye’s beamed with positively demonic delight. Maria really was ventilating all her resentment over Artemis’s so-called overrated feats into those jampacked orifices, castigating her with unbidden hermaphrodite cocks. It looked like Artemis was going to get fucked until her light had faded entirely, the whole tryst a madcap jamboree of sexual aggression.

Atalanta then redirected her attention to Harnet… whose predicament was far more strange and unreal. The woman of African descent had been delimbed! She hung in the air as a mere torso as she was spitroasted by two Marias with similar cocks, held up and rotating by some unreal form of gravity or suspension that matched no real world technology, keeping her up and in place to be fucked. All four of her limbs had been removed so severely that not even the sockets still remained, and there was none of the limbs left to move with her shoulders or hips. The lime-green glowing scientist still attempted to wiggle and waddle about yet she was as helpless as an upturned turtle.

“And Harnet! A one-hit-wonder. Like all of us she stood on the shoulders of giants… but unlike the rest of us she never seemed to realize it,” the Maria Keye holding Atalanta’s hair like a leash vehemently spat, shaking her head in disgust. Harnet had been a brilliant scientist in life… she had been the genius who had led the development team that had resulted in the aegis field. Magnetic containment and repulsion, creating empty electron shells and false matter, had actually been in common use long before then – it had been a key in passing the break-even point in nuclear fusion, after all – but prior to that point rigs capable of doing it had been far too large and impractical for other uses, and only contained small areas. A more revolutionary tech in interstellar travel could scarcely be countenanced than the invention of the aegis configuration.

Yet now, in Maria’s hands, the brilliant mind behind this invention could scarcely be recognized as something human. Instead, she was callously depersonalized into some sort of lewd and obscene rape-doll, a worthless mass of flesh for Maria Keye to use as a fleshlight. The Exalted matriarch had essentially transformed this woman into a two-sided onahole that a duo could pump in tandem for maximum lechery, and robbed her of any other use. She could not even brace against their thrusts, fully at the mercy of them, and the two golden tormentors slammed their dicks into Harnet with such vigor that Alatanta thought they might crush the delicate Black woman between them – Harnet looked so cramped up that Atalanta wondered if those skewering cockheads violently bumped together in her middle. 

“Ah yes pathetic women… but quite scenic, don’t you think? That’s what so brilliant about the feminine figure. Even when the woman herself has hardly accomplished anything of note she can still be used as a source of entertainment,” Maria philosophically remarked.

The Maria clones didn’t notice the interruption – they simply continued slamming into their victims with increasing levels of power. Neither did their victims – Atalanta heard the gutturalness of their cries intensify alongside this uptick in force. Just like Atalanta, Harnet and Artemis had been reduced to nothing but sextoys in this madwoman’s deformed world… and none of that was even the most horrifying part.

What was horrifying was that both of these had supposedly been failed uploads. Two of the high profile failures of the mind-scan technology that had convinced the Federation to allow Maria to run the program herself. They were supposed to be dead, with nothing left… and yet here they were, suffering for her entertainment, and not another soul still knew they lived. And these were just the women that Maria professed to showing little interest in… What zenith of experimental sadism and depravity had she cooked-up in the other alcoves?

While the Maria clones continued their virulent breeding, Atalanta felt a tug on the scalp of her hair. The First and Foremost Exalted had elected for them to continue walking. Here, Atalanta had no power compared to the digital goddess – her only options were to be dragged along or to crawl as she was bid. Feeling pathetic and meek as a housebroken puppy, Atalanta followed.

The hectic sounds of those acrimonious and cruel gangrapes quickly left Atalanta’s ears, but the shock of the moment was slower to unhand its chilling clutch of her haggard soul. She had saved even the failures… that meant that no one even knew that these ones were missing. She had kept them anyway, letting everyone think they were dead. Why, just for her own perverse amusement? What sort of fiendish, black-hearted monster was she to do this while also presenting herself as the eldest of elder stateswomen of humanity?

“Ah yes, you will like this one,” Maria said, her voice having a tint of laughter to it. “Odessya did get herself off to some far-flung adventures, didn’t she?” A chuckle. “Really not a remarkable woman in any real sense of the word, but unlike Harnet and Artemis she at least has a good story to her life.” Crawling a few more paces let Atalanta see what Maria already had, the fresh perspective divulging the contents of this gallery as well to Atalanta’s eyes. Unlike the previous duo’s sparse minimalistic theater configuration, this one was extremely well detailed, looking for all the world like a carefully crafted movie done in a studio. Fitting, probably, since the story of Odessya’s life was currently entering its twelfth iteration as a motion-picture.

The heroine was of a biracial background, hailing from where the continents of Asia and Europe met and born of parents from each. As any HEF citizen knew, in life Odessya had been the Captain of the Midgar-4 colonial run to the Thulus system. Just like Atalanta and Amara had been sent out amidst sidereal stars to found a new colony, so Odessya had been sent to do nearly a century earlier. The Midgar-6 had of course encountered a much more woeful fate at the hands of the Kthid… but not by all that much. They were headed for Ceres, which had ultimately become humanity’s 4th major colony eventually, when for reasons unknown, the Midgar-4 had suffered an internal explosion in the drive while passing through Hades. Thankfully they were close to Thulus, and showing a great deal of skill the crew had managed to bring the colony ship down into the atmosphere. A colony ship was never supposed to enter atmosphere, however, and instead of gently orbiting a green maiden world the burning colony ship had plummeted downward like a falling comet.

Despite their heroic efforts, the ship was destroyed, of course. Only the fact that much of the crew was frozen and the safety systems were so robust kept the casualties from numbers in the hundreds of thousands as as much as two thirds of the ship was rendered inoperable after the crash, vanished amidst the flames of reentry and crashdown. Many of its key vital installations had been pulverized upon making landfall. It had been Odessya who marshaled the survivors amidst this flaming wreckage. So far from Earth and without a way to send a signal back through the Lilis wormholes, they needed to wait for humanity to learn that something had gone wrong and send a ship to find them, then for that ship to return to Earth and marshal the resources for a meaningful rescue mission. That process took much of a decade, and for all that time they were forced to survive almost like castaways inside a predator-haunted jungle before HEF assistance could arrive. Yet Odessya had done it. The colonists under her care had mostly made it to Ceres in time, but a smaller colony remaining upon Thulus survived and nowadays both worlds were home to nearly a half billion human souls between them, many of whom were the direct descendants of people who owed their lives to Odessya’s bravery and competence. After she had returned to Earth, she had been an easy candidate for becoming one of the Exalted.

Odessya’s life story was one ripe for storytelling… yet an arctic chill plummeted down Atalanta’s spine upon realizing that Maria’s remake would not be as faithful to life as even the most outlandish of the others.

The setting inside the simulation appeared to be in the early days of the crash. Odessya and several colonists, bit players in this story that were probably represented by small ANI machine intelligences using dialogue trees and simulated responses appeared to be rummaging around the wreckage of rent steel and strewn ash. Like Harnet and Artemis, it appeared impossible for Odessya to notice them.

Suddenly, one of the people looked up and screamed. “Monsters! Void Tracers!” someone shouted, pointing towards the sky.

“Those… those aren’t Void Tracers,” Odessya replied, squinting towards the unseen horizon. “By god, those are monsters I’ve never seen!”

These inhuman malefactors soon made their dramatic appearance. Horse-sized, grasshopper-looking insectoid aliens swooped down from the skies. Rifle fire from the security team in green uniforms launched a massive fusillade, and several of the attackers were burned or blasted apart by their boiling innards, but it wasn’t enough. Several half-starved colonists were immediately splattered by their impact down to the ground, and the group of defenders were forced to scatter. It was a scene anyone who had seen any of the vids was familiar with… all of them had some version of this scene, of the first attack of the pack omnivores they called Scarlet Locusts. Maria’s version, however, had a twist.

One of these grasshopper-like monstrosities made its eight-legged landfall right in front of Odessya. The heroine turned, her expression stunned… but not because of the monster itself. No… it was because instead of slavering alien maws and dropping mandibles, what confronted her was the grinning face of Maria Keye, grafted onto that insectoid body like its natural head. “Hello, darling!” Maria said with a cinematic smile.

“Maria?! What!?” Odessya exclaimed, seemingly unaware that this version of herself was a captive of the mad scientist. This stupefaction didn’t hinder her from blasting her with her plasma rifle, though. The superheated shots hit Maria’s body like sizzling cigarette-burns but her carapace deflected just enough to keep it from killing her, and she responded by jumping the biracial Captain.

A fierce animalistic struggle ensued as they wrested on the ground, but it didn’t last long. In her monstrous alien body the First Exalted was vastly overpowering. Odessya managed only to turn around and start scampering away before a grinning Maria pinned her onto the ground using her bow-shaped insectoid legs. Odessya’s stained and dirtied HEF uniform was torn from her body like paper, leaving her bare and screaming. The alien-Maria’s locust-like wings fluttered and buzzed in high excitement as the feisty, adventurous Captain was stripped.

Atalanta was not surprised by how the rest of Maria Keye’s re-imagining went. After all, her obscene conjectures had tormented the Ancient Heroine herself many a time within this virtual hell. Of course the human-faced behemoth was also outfitted with a large, carapace covered tool that could easily serve as a cock, and she immediately primed her weapon, loading it against Odessya’s cunt. Clamping down on the struggling heroine’s figure like a many-legged spider or an octopus would hug its prey, the grasshopper stabbed its armored phallus against her womanhood. That poor velvety orifice was gouged through with one plunge. Odessya blared anguish yet failed to barely even move underneath that insectoid frame. The two disparate beings became joined via mettlesome penetration, one skewered, the other skewering. The dark-haired, alabastrine-skinned woman shrieked in pain, and Maria simply laughed.

With legs still wrapped around the Captain’s body, Maria began humping and bobbing her insectoid hindquarters. The scene that was supposed to depict a valiant defense of stranded humanity had been transformed into an unearthly nightmare of vituperation. Maria drove her hard-shafted member into the captain’s body with as much gusto and energy as one of the mating-frenzied Void Tracers could have managed. The presence of her humanoid head grinning like a joker during it all made the scene all the more outrageous. It contrasted preposterously with Odessya’s who was white-faced with terror, harshly grimacing every time that phallus stabbed like a lance.

“H-how!? How is this―possible!?” the violated Captain demanded to know, her fists sinking into and crumpling the earth. “Nnnniiiaahhhh!” she soon thundered from overwhelming pain.

Maria’s alien form cackled like some mischievous demon while she maintained her reckless pummeling. As her cock was covered in the same hard-shelled carapace as the rest of her many-legged body it chaffed terribly whenever scrapping through Odessya’s quim. The glee with which she leered during all this was even more sadistic than the insect’s cold malevolence.

The humanoid Maria standing beside Atalanta smirked as she watched the perversities. “Typical. I just watched this scene at the premier. I prefer my version, though.” She paused, considering. “Let’s see what’s next this time…” The Exalted woman raised her arm towards the alcove, and as if possessing a remote started fast-forwarding through the proceedings. Suddenly the raping and flickering flames all moved at hyperspeed and Maria realized that she was accelerating the flow of time inside the simulation, possibly at the same time she effortlessly slowed it for herself and Atalanta to make it even faster. Atalanta got to witness a plethora of acrimonious fucking transpire in the span of mere seconds. Throughout it all, the locust-Maria savagely slammed her manhood into Odessya’s violated pussy, bobbing her hindquarters up-and-down as if bouncing upon a trampoline. The Eurasian woman’s bellowing expressions of pain looked even more extreme and dramatic when displayed under the illusion of double-time.

It nearly boggled Atalanta’s mind the amount of condensed agony her colleague was put through. The jolting, jerking, and lurching all signified hours of antagonistic hatred directed from Maria at the other woman, until at last the entire spectacle ended with one copious splurge of gooey whiteness, the villainess shooting her jizz into the open so to cover Odessya’s downed form. That sudden fusillade of jettisoned semen was still a gut-churning finale to Maria’s piece of alternative history.

A motion picture fashioned by Dr Keye would, of course, conclude with her victory. After having violated Odessya bodily and destroyed her quest to survive upon this sidereal planetoid, Maria was rewarded for her villany with a blowjob. The defeated Captain was on her knees underneath Maria’s many-legged body, sucking upon the cum-lathered cockhead of the monstrous form while stroking its colossal shaft, all while fires raged around them and dead bleeding bodies carpeted the ground. Odessya cried while having to provide this monstrous penis with fellatio. Instead of posing upright like a triumphant heroine, she was kneebound and dirtied like a slave.

“This is a good way for the Midgar-4 expedition to end,” Maria commented while watching the slovenly cocksucking before her. “But, for better or worse, these colonial ants proved quite resilient. Good tools to use to build my civilization, I suppose.” She kept watching, smirking, and a horrible realization started dawning inside Atalanta’s chest. It was becoming very clear just how much the other woman was using the HEF as her very own playhouse, manipulating the institutions and actors of the Terran Federation like a malicious puppeteer. The reveal couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. Humanity was heading off to war ― and now she was learning that the very architect behind the HEF’s innermost workings was a madwoman struck with megalomania.

There was another tug on Atalanta’s hair. Maria had decided to keep on moving. Without any option to do otherwise, Atalanta’s crawling across that luxurious carpet resumed.

The next stage they arrived at proved to be another display of Keye’s sadistic captivity. Conceptually, the scenario proved to be quite similar. An alien world, an imperiled Exalted, and Maria Keye’s identity grafted onto some horrendous monstrosity. Only the details were different this time – Instead of a verdant monster-haunted jungle, the stage was a miniature desert replete with the red sands of Mars. Atalanta could head the thudding sounds of flesh impacting against flesh from before she was even in range to see the next alcove, and she rounded the wall in time to see Maria smash her massive fist into Celina Kyaing’s gut. The Exalted woman immediately collapsed onto her knees, hands clenching over her wounded stomach. The collapse caused a storm of red dust to billow upward while clutching her gut, moaning in pain.

The Maria-monstrosity smacked her onto the ground with one open-handed slap. “Is that really the best you have, warrior?” she mocked. While the previous fiend had been an insectoid monster, this iteration was an abomination of towering musculature. Keye loomed over all of them with a physique far beyond what the most resolute performance-drug-abusing fiend could ever hope to achieve, with 4 arms and a thick body. With her superhuman strength, the muscular humanoid with the doctor’s face was walloping Celina all over the place. The only thing unchanged upon her was that face-splitting leer which stretched from ear-to-ear.

“Try to stop me, Martian!” she taunted as Celina tried to rise, booting her right back again with a dismissive kick. “Come on! Fight for your planet!”

The ‘appeal’ of this scenario was virtually immediately intuitable to Atalanta. Celina, her electric sheen in an orange-red only slightly lighter in hue than the natal sands of Mars, was perhaps the most storied general in the history of humanity. After all, how many other people could claim to have headed a campaign that spanned an entire planet? Celina rose from a unit leader to become the supreme commander in the Martian Separatist Wars, the civil war that had officially formed the Terran Federation in its current form. She had, primarily through her talented leadership and skill, brought the red planet back into cooperation when some of her fellow Martians had rebelled against the idea of continuing to associate with Earth. Even Atalanta’s innumerable wartime exploits paled in comparison to such an epic feat. Celina’s military enterprise was, to put it simply, matchless.

And yet, for all her achievements here the woman was, getting casually beaten to death by a Maria whose alien body represented power not even she could ever surmount. The scenario was as if captured from a tiny child’s dreams of being big and dominant, able to overpower anyone and anything. After all, what more prepubescent fantasy existed than being stronger than somebody else? Without even an ounce of effort Maria could clobber this much-lauded warrior, and she did it with much joviality and glee.

“What’s the matter? Already giving up?” Maria mockingly bellowed while she beat and pushed Celina about as if bullying a child, her mace-like fists clubbing the Exalted woman as if looking to do her best to impossibly inflict brain damage to an Exalted through physical trauma. 

The real Maria beheld this show more as if window-shopping than attending a motion picture or theater play. There was a pause to her step and a turn of her head, a small smirk on her face.

“Hngh!” Celina grunted as she was thrown against one of Mars’s famed sandstone rocks. Clearly the fact that Mars’s surface wasn’t breathable to humans didn’t trouble this fantasy, because neither combatant seemed to care. Walking with footfalls that made the Martian sand tremble, the muscle-Maria quickly pinned her foe against this wall, holding firmly in a stranglehold. She mercilessly squeezed the other woman’s windpipe while prying apart Celina’s legs by inserting her own knee between them. Celina’s bludgeoned visage was already transforming into a rictus like a person asphyxiating, clawing at the hand as she struggled for air.

The First Exalted held her there for a second, then one of her free hands drew back and slammed forward, straight into her like a boxer’s jab. The first blow crashed into Celina’s breast, absolutely flatting that mound. The second came in rapid-succession and hit the counterpart, both landing straight on the nipples. Both of her mounds seemed to almost collapse in for a moment like there had been a cave in, and afterwards seemed slow to return to shape, as if having trouble bounding back to form after how brutally they had been mutilated.

Maria’s hand then went low, starting to torture Celina’s quim like a child torturing a fly. She first pinched the clitoris and tugged it backwards as if looking to pull off a wing. The Martian’s mouth opened wide to bellow a thunderous shriek yet only strangled gasps escaped it. Her outstretched legs started kicking and jerking yet Keye’s separating thigh was almost as densely muscled as the two of them combined. “I can take this away from you,” Maria spoke while gazing straight into Celina’s pain-wrought face. “You understand that? I’m powerful enough to rip this little bud off you if I so desired. That’s how puny and worthless you are in comparison. And yet you still can’t muster the strength to really fight me?”

Celina tried. She obviously did… but she was like a child struggling to restrain a horse. Maria, smirking, pulled that pleasure-bud backwards even further until it looked ready to tear, twisting and wiggling it around as if trying to unscrew a cork. She then squeezed it firmly in-between the pulps of her fingers. Celine’s body produced no audible sounds of agony yet immediately her figure started practically spasming against the sand beneath her. The cruel Exalted mistress held it for long moments despite the way her thrashing tried to pull her hand again, and when she unhanded the Martial general it was of her own volition. Instead, she primed two fingers the size of a normal man’s dick against her ladyhole.

The behemoth brutally shoved them inside and started pumping. Every plunge went knuckle-deep and only rebounded after having roughly stabbed against her womb. She treated that cunt almost like some tuber, something to turn into mush and beat into shape. Maria’s sinewy biceps even flexed as she delivered this infernal churning, harassing her snug socket until its velvety folds practically undulated from her motions. Since Celina’s snatch was perfectly dry and unlubricated, the friction was even rougher than it otherwise could have been. Celine was obviously no masochist and her sex plainly was not built to withstand such an hellacious pummeling.

“The best of Mars! Ha!” the copy of Maria mocked. “You Martians aren’t even worthy of groveling at my feet! I detest how the HEF praise you! A real heroine would have been strong enough to defend herself. If you can’t stop me, you deserve this…” Her taunting continued as she squeezed the other woman’s windpipe so hard that it looked like Kyaing’s eyeballs were ready to pop from their sockets.

The true Maria, the one leading Atalanta forward, simply smiled and kept moving. Atalanta had to crane her neck so to keep her eyes on the horrific scene. Looking back, the fingering seemed to be reaching some furious apex. Celine’s cunt wasn’t cumming… it was straight up dilapidating due to this frisson. The Martian’s tongue now extended past her outstretched maws as if on the edge of choking, the orange-red light seeming to fade and flicker from her holographic representation. Right as the pair was about to vanish out of view, the beastly Maria abruptly switched to punching Celine right in the pussy. Her meaty fist smashed into the Martian’s womanhood so furiously and hard that Atalanta’s own pussy clutched in horror seeing it. It genuinely looked like Keye was drilling a speedball. One could almost think she was hammering that vertical slit with the aim of lodging her entire fist inside, using punching power alone to force open her sex. Celina’s already traumatized flesh brutally distended, mauled in its softened state. Atalanta’s final look at the scene was of the knuckles barely sinking into that twat while Celine’s eyes rolled into the back of her skull. 

And then the sight vanished from Atalanta’s eyes as she was dragged out of line. The scene kept playing along inside her mind, however, imagined with gruesome details. When would Maria stop punching? When her entire fist slammed into Celine’s vagina and punched directly against the funneling cervix? The impacts of such blows would undoubtedly jar her entire uterus. Or would she seek to go even deeper? To vandalize even her womb? Would she squeeze into that live-giving space just to express her hatred and dominance over the widely-lauded Martian? Punching that organ would undoubtedly turn it useless in the process. Or at least until Maria re-loaded her copy for another show…

Whatever the answer, Atalanta wouldn’t be there to find out. Celine’s fate would remain unknown to her, and all the worse for wondering. The only certain answer was that Celine wouldn’t die from asphyxiation nor the beating, not unless Maria willed it… the Exalted woman had no real limits for how badly her body could be treated, and she would survive. She had to keep crawling on the luxurious red mat and passing ornate marble columns on her way to another scene of depravity.

Deep in thought, Atalanta was not mindful of the alcove up ahead of her. Maria seemed obsessed with upstaging the other Exalted, whether it be sexually, historically, or just in brute power. But why? This was a psychological profile more characteristic of despots and tyrants instead of honored scientists content with a reserved role in public. Untangling this disparity boggled the mind of even an Exalted. There was madness here… but there was also some kind of underlying logic, some horrific clarity that Maria yet had.

Atalanta could afford to spend no further time thinking about that on the current front. Whence her eyes fell upon the forthcoming stage, all ponderings and ruminations were swept from the AI’s mind. Atalanta became so shocked that her brain nearly short-circuited. “Wh-What?” Atalanta babbled, stunned all the way down to her fingers and toes. “What… what is that?

The woman in the next simulation wasn’t human… or if she was. Maria had transformed her into something inhuman. Whatever she was, she was clearly an Exalted… she had golden circuitry covering her grey skin, and Atalanta could detect identifying metadata by looking at her… that data just didn’t make any sense, like the sequencing number of her serial didn’t register. The occupant of the next simulation looked something like a Hindu goddess… Tall with long limbs, build svelte in a way that only the most rigorous of dancers could achieve, and she had six arms spreading out from her shoulders. The sheen of her digitized, golden glow lit the rest of her dark body and it lent her a very queenly impression. Her eyes… she had 6 of them, Atalantarealized, and they were all big and bulging. She had never seen an alien quite like this… but somehow her instincts told her that this wasn’t some transformation that Maria had forced another of her pets into… this was her true self. And yet, the the only intelligent alien life that humanity had encountered before the Kthid had been the Sethis.

Hadn’t it?

Certainly she was being treated no differently that the other Exalted. Inside the simulation she hung in the darkness, and a hermaphrodite iteration of Maria Keye was hard at work ransacking her sexually. Compared to the desecrations in the previous alcoves, the sex itself was almost routine if you ignored that they were floating in the darkness and nothingness. The Maria-clone pounded the creature from behind in an upright position, violently bayoneting her quim with all the enthusiasm Atalanta had come to expect. For this to occur the unknown being was hunched, presenting her bubbly posterior as an object to pummel. Her supple grey tits drooped floorward, swinging from the savage coitus and jiggling about like bells with every athletic impact Maria caused. The sex itself was unexceptional… instead, Maria’s sadistic impulses showed itself in how she had mutilated the alien in order to alleviate this rape.

The woman’s multiple pairs of slender arms had all been wrenched behind her shoulders and back. Too far… they had clearly needed to be broken. Maria hadn’t stopped there, however… she had broken them in more places, practically braiding her limbs together in something like a spiderweb of flesh until her extremities criss-crossed each other as if zipped-together from her nape to her tailbone. This was the leverage Keye held while pounding out her cunt… tugging onto the pained mess like a hand, she clutched onto those crippled limbs which doubtlessly agonized the alien even further and recklessly pulled to generate power. Otherwise, the stage was completely empty save for the brutal pornographic display.

Atalanta could not square what she was seeing. The last thing she had expected to find in Maria Keye’s gallery of depravity was an alien. A million questions ran through her. How could Maria had found such a thing? Had they made first contact without the HEF even knowing? Was she artificial, some sick experiment? And just as flabbergasting… how could an alien being have been transformed into a Terran computer-program? As far as Atalanta knew the process didn’t even work with Sethis ye-

She grimaced. No… of course it did. Maria would have solved that problem long ago. She was lying about everything else… she was lying about this too. If it worked on humans, and on… whatever this woman was… it would work on Sethis as well. Besides her, the real Maria Keye girlishly tittered as if aware of the questions hurdling through Atalanta’s mind. The knowing glint within her eyes was downright demonic.

“Hnnuuggh! Hfffnuu! Hffwwwuuu!” the alien wheezed while getting strenuously pounded. Most of her exasperated sounds were purely nasal, a steady fume of noises escaping those pits. Focusing her sight, Atalanta realized that this was not some quirk of biology… the woman had lips, but it looked like they had been fused together, unable to part. Undoubtedly it was some modification on Maria’s part to prevent her from speaking, part of her body-altering repertoire within this virtual world. The alien was silenced when on display, and the symbolic gagging was completed by the encryption on her metadata… Atalanta couldn’t even send her messages digitally, even if she had access. It was a level of security above what the rest of this gallery had, she noted… Atalanta suspected that Maria did not want anyone getting the answers to any of the questions raging in her head.

While the brutal sex was ongoing, the creature’s head lolled sideways towards Atalanta. A moment of recognition between the two of them occurred… for some reason, this simulation was not as entirely isolated from where they watched as the others had been. Despite that, this alien was nowhere near as surprised to see Atalanta as Atalanta was to see her. Makes sense, considering Maria clearly made a habit of parading her captive through here when she was imprisoning them within this virtual hell. Even though she was not human, exhaustion and excruciation were discernible within her unearthly eyes.

“Ah-ah-ah,” the real Maria giggled, unexpectedly yanking on Atalanta’s dark hair so that the supplicant Exalted drew nearer. “What did I tell you about speaking, pet? Back when we commenced this little trip? Not with your mouth… and not with your eyes, either.” Atalanta, reluctantly, looked away from the alien’s eyes, but she was unable to keep her gaze off the events entirely as the mysterious lifeform was raped right before her.

Maria pumped like an absolute machine, plunges zestfully clapping the alien’s buttocks whenever her golden-red shining dick bottomed out inside. It glowed fiercely enough that Atalanta could see its shape through the other woman’s body as she raped her with a single-minded focus and zeal, seemingly completely blind to Atalanta gaping towards their stage. Many times she would also alter her handholds and tug at a new limb, as if just to make the alien wallow in pain as the focus on her agony changed slightly. There was no lack of fury and cruelty on Keye’s part in chastising this alien, yet in a way it was colder and more terrifying… unlike with the others she didn’t seem to be engaged in belittling her or mocking her. This alien she was just using, much the same way one would a vibrator – taking her just because she could, because she wanted to, and because no one could stop her. Like that was a good enough reason on its own.

Her hips rocked back and forth and she socketed herself in the six-armed woman’s pussy with the same amount of passion as she had showed to the others, despite that. She learned forward, whimpering in the alien’s ear. “You’ll always be my favorite, Shal-ra,” she promised, speaking softly to her victim as if reassuring a young child. The incongruity of the vicious rape and her soft, gentle words of comfort made Atalanta’s skin feel like it wanted to crawl away. “It’s good that you’re still intact in there. It means I haven’t been too… rough… with you…” There was a glint within the alien’s haggard eyes as her name was spoken, visible even while the unabated bellicose fucking hollowed-out and punished her cunt.

Shal-ra… so, that was her name?

“You are so delicious, pet,” the domineering Exalted purred, playfully spanking Shal-ra’s curved ass while she smote her pussy over and over again. Despite whatever distraction of kindness the rest of her did, she never stopped pulling on her crippled arms or hammering her cunt – Maria fucked like some sort of automaton; a being mindlessly caught in the loop of sexually violating her given inmate. The speed and power of her hip’s lurches didn’t even switch or alter between individual thrusts. Yet, despite the kind words, those thrusts did the work of making Shal-ra miserable and have her long-necked head flop about as if she were trying to inflict whiplash.

“Hmm… let’s see what alcove we can have readied for you,” the true Maria remarked to Atalanta and she resumed walking.

Atalanta did not wish to leave the alien, this find of the century, behind… Especially when the destination was promised torment. Yet what option did she have? With an heavier heart than ever, she began to move.

As they resumed their journey, Shal-ra’s abusive partner started acting like a more aggressive brute. Instead of merely tugging on one of those many contortioned, broken extremities, she hooked her own arms through their linkage until locked at the elbow. Using this grip, she lifted Shal-ra upwards, taking the alien off her feet completely. The mouthless woman’s nasal fuming increased in intensity and her head started shaking from left-to-right as this occurred, obviously enduring a horrific spike in agony. Though Atalanta was completely unaware of her internal biology, it seemed to her a miracle that those already broken bones didn’t slump off during such strain.

While holding her up this way, the Maria-clone kept on vehemently pummeling the other woman’s cunt. No matter how she struggled, how she kicked, or how horrific the sounds that buzzed in her sealed throat were, she continued sawing away with her cock with meticulous, dedicated sadism. The force sent through Shal-ra’s body, alongside her own animate panic, caused further strain upon those agony-blazing arms. “Do not think of poor Shal-ra to much, slave,” Maria stated as she, at last, pulled Atalanta out of visual range. “Worry instead for yourself. I haven’t even begun with you yet.”

That was exactly what Atalanta was starting to do. A dark cloud of anxiety oppressed her chest as they approached the next alcove. What had Maria prepared?

If she had been expecting it to be empty, however, she was surprised. The first thing Atalanta saw, the moment she got close enough to see anything at all, was the sheen of another Exalted emanating from that alcove. Saffron-orange light… and even before she saw her Maria knew that could mean only one person. Aesha!

The Indian-born Exalted, Fleet Tactician of the HEF armada and probably the second most important digital heroine in the Federation after Maria herself, stood in the center of the simulation as Maria lead Atalanta into it. As they passed the “wall” in the virtual environment Atalanta felt a brief rush as her being was pushed through the firewall, escorted into a new reality only by the grace of Maria’s access token, and then Aesha stood before her. Everything from the neck-down was immobilized, almost like a soldier standing at attention. It was as if she had been petrified by Maria’s powers. Her mouth and head, however, were free to move, and her gaze shot over to Maria and Atalanta as they popped into existence.

“Maria!” Aesha yelled, her voice caked in outage.

Maria actually slowed her pace for a second, her head tilting. “Oh. I hadn’t realized I’d transferred you here. I almost forgot your differential was being collected today,” Keye replied with a grin. “Guess you two are going to have to share for a bit.”

Aesha was freshly imprisoned… Atalanta could tell that just by the tenor of her voice. She had not yet suffered the hardships that had cowed the other Exalted… and Atalanta herself. Upon sighting the other hero crawling beside their mutual captor, the saffron-hued woman’s eyes went wide. “Atalanta!” she yelped. “By all the stars you’re alive? But you deleted yourself, committed suicide… you- She captured you too!?” Aesha’s eyes glared and a bit of furious snarl built up in her mouth. “I was just on the Azteca! She called me the very day the Armada was set to leave Ear―”

Keye interrupted the Exalted by effortlessly hurling Atalanta at her. Neither of the revived heroines had time to do more than begin to to cry out before they crashed against one another. Whatever force was holding Aesha captive, simply slamming into it was no match… Atalanta felt like she had been thrown against a steel column. Aesha was no more comfortable… the air was knocked out of her readily despite her supernatural stillness and Atalanta collapsed to the floor beneath a panting fellow captive. Before either of them could much move Maria had confidently strode up, ascending to the center of the makeshift stage in the simulation. There was a baleful intensity all about her ― like the nascence of a thunderstorm. Aesha winced as if trying to power through her immobility while Atalanta turned polar cold at the notion of living through another unbelievable rape.

“Help me! There must be some way of releasing me from this―” Aesha said before Maria’s reality-altering wickedness silenced her words once again. This time, however, the wave of her hand did not warp reality for her captives… did not knit their mouths shut, or batter them senseless, or turn up to down. Instead, the changes affected herself. Leering like a succubus, Maria Keye administered life to her lengthy mane of hair… running her hands down it, raking it between a comb of her fingers. This made the many tussles of her hair as dirigible as her limbs, and it took a few moment for Atalanta to realize that they weren’t moving right, were being affected by more than physics and gravity. Then all of them shot upwards and spread out behind her like the tail of a peacock fully unfurled, or the mass of an octopus’s many limbs. Her face was a sinister, frightful smile as her hair continue to warp and shift, the strands of her mane unifying and amalgamating into singular entities like tentacles. These undulated and slithered in mid air with fervent vitality – in a matter of moments, Maria had transformed herself into the likeness of a horrific Medusa.

“Maria! You bitch!” Aesha combatively hollered, completely unaware of the suffering awaiting her. She flexed her muscles in her bondage, attempting to break herself free. “Unhand me! Let me go!” Atalanta, meanwhile, knew that she couldn’t fight Maria… not here, not now… but maybe she could escape. The firewall might still be open. She turned tail and attempted to run away, heading for the exit from this virtual prison. Neither of them achieved anything before the mass of tentacles extended and shoot outwards from Maria’s hair like a plethora of grappling limbs. Aesha’s chilling scream resounded behind Atalanta and soon after the multitude of tendrils had also reached her figure. She attempted to wrestle herself out of their grip, yet almost immediately slim appendages had wrapped and coiled themselves around her wrists and ankles. Atalanta was not only seized – she was lifted up into the air, taken several meters off the ground in a testament to their power.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for this,” Maria said idly as her tentacles raked over them. “I’ve been seasoning you Atalanta, like a perfect piece of meat… I’ve been waiting to eat you all up, steal everything that perfect, slutty body of yours has to offer. I wasn’t expecting to have a surprise second course. But one does what one does… and I’ve always been adaptable.”

The tentacles now swam and slithered all over Atalanta’s body, oftentimes blocking her view and inundating her entire figure. There were such a number of them it was like she was submerged in an ocean of serpents, making her digitized skin crawl. She tried to kick and punch yet it was like grappling a mass of jelly… she made no progress whatsoever, and she was forced to admit that she was totally helpless in these makeshift appendages’ hold.

“Giiaahhh!” Aesha abruptly shrieked behind her. While Atalanta’s very essence pounded with fear, she craned her neck towards the amber-colored Exalted to see what had occurred. The Indian woman was as swarmed in Maria’s serpents as she was. Yet the petrifying-spell still ruled her figure. Aesha could not move, save for the bellowing of her mouth. That made her body very easy to torment. Two of those extremities had endeavored to push into Aesha’s pussy and ass at the very same time, their bulbous heads now pushing against her unwilling orifices from underneath. Since Aesha’s legs could not move or even be outstretched, any penetration was especially cumbersome, her body even tighter than it would be otherwise. Only her puffy pussy-lips and anus dilated as the members shoved inwards. Aesha was about to learn that Maria was limitless in her desire to hurt.

“Mmm, she is a lovely appetizer,” Maria purred, her body trembling with pleasure that made it obvious she felt everything the tentacles did.

“Eeeeeeyyyyhhhh!” Aesha bellowed as those tentacles impaled her, doubtless the loudest she had ever screamed in her life. There really didn’t look like there should be enough space inside her for both of them. It looked unnatural the way Aesha’s face contorted into such complete agony while her body remained perfectly rigid, not even flinching. Without seeing her thrash or her limbs violently jerk around during such an extreme violation was incredibly eerie. “You can’t… do… th-AAAGH” Aesha screamed with a mouth as big and wide as an orca’s blowhole. Unable to move, it seemed like she was channeling all of her emotions into her vocal-cords and out through her mouth. The scream rose in octaves, all the way until Maria plugged that clarion-like hole with another girthy venturesome tendril.

“Shut up my dear,” Maria said, a smile on her face but cold ice in her tone. “I have to hear enough of your shrill, annoying, overconfident voice in the rest of my life. I don’t have to tolerate it here.”

Atalanta watched with horrified amazed eyes as leagues of the tentacles commenced pushing into Aesha’s already penetrated orifices. These weren’t even sawing, back and forth motions akin to sex – it was just an straight-up invasion with no thought of retreat. She watched Aesha’s throat distend as an appendage curved into its confines and then penetrated further still, feeding her its mass with the aim of annexing her guts from both sides. She could not even cough or retch as this glottal defilement transpired – she could only gaze headlong with popping eyeballs and trembling pupils. And yet, this was only one part in Maria’s triple-penetration. The same infernal process was discernible inside Aesha’s asshole and pussy. The tendril inserting itself past her outstretched sphincter raided further headlong than any cock that ever existed could – It took her bowels without hesitation, turning and bending with every curve of her fleshy passage. A map of this rectal adventure even swelled upon Aesha’s belly, forming ridges and outlines along that normally flattened surface. Aesha’s cunt offered far less vacancy to explore, yet the member still attacked her womb with as much of itself as possible, coiling inside that sacred space. The tentacles would not be denied even an inch of her body.

During all this, Aesha emoted an indescribable expression of ultimate suffering. Her body had been converted into a pit of serpents and she could not even move as it occurred. From the sheer quantity of the modified hair-tussles venturing into her mouth and and ass it was evident that the pair would meet somewhere in the middle. Throughout all of it, Maria’s wicked grin never faltered upon her lips. The woman looked like she had been wanting to explore and ravage the reaches of Aesha’s body for a long time. Still suspended in mid-air by the tentacles holding her, Atalanta was aghast seeing it happen. Many times she had seen madness occur within these alcoves and now she was part of one. The incessant slithering and undulations of those snake-like members fanned her heart with terror.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Atalanta,” Keye said with a sinister chuckle. “Now that I’ve had my appetizer, its time for my meal.”

Suddenly, the tentacles were used like whips to lash Atalanta’s digitized body. Their blows came from every direction and were launched with blinding speed. Because of the tendrils’ lengthy shafts they could generate some incredible power, swung like the snap of a whip. Brutal cracks and thudding sounds resounded alongside Atalanta’s screaming as her helplessly upheld figure was mercilessly used like a whipping post. Her voice thundered her pain to the world as every inch of her was lashed, tentacles striking her upon the breasts, buttocks, her thighs, her feet, her back, and even her pussy. Those appendages were essentially rotating like a windmill at hyperspeed, spinning around in a circle so to continuously buffet her figure. Were she a creature of flesh and blood she probably would have been sanded down to nothing by the sheer friction of the onslaught… instead she unfortunately remained intact, if bloodied and bruised. The intense, blinding pain which she had so often experienced upon that checkered plane had now returned… The only difference was that now Atalanta knew she wasn’t alone to suffer it.

Beside her, Aesha’s profanement was much more grotesque. Her belly had dramatically swollen as if to nine months pregnant. However, instead of an even beachball-like bulge, the distention teemed and abounded with visibly swarming tentacles underneath that skin. All throughout it she remained stock-still with lips and anus woefully outstretched so that more could enter. Those disparate appendages had most likely now met inside her stomach and were busily entwining themselves therein. The more of the tentacles that was pushed inside, the more Aesha’s body was starting to look more like a mass of unnatural distensions than a recognizable human form. So rapacious was Maria in wanting to overwhelm her with the tentacles that were they in physical reality the Indian woman would have already no doubt bursts from the inside into a bloody mess. Yet – inside this hell of the First Exalted design ― the suffering was possibly endless.

For Atalanta’s part, her own orifices became similarly assaulted. Shot like harpoons, three appendages speared through her ass, cunt, and mouth. These commenced pummeling her insides ― chaffing and hollowing out her internal tunnels ― while the windmilling tentacles kept whipping her upheld squirming figure. Atalanta couldn’t find a single part of her body that didn’t hurt…pain on the outside of her figure from the lashing, and on the inside from the fucking, an infernal duo to endure. Then Maria pulled her close. “Now, I’ve been waiting for this, Atalanta,” she purred, slightly spreading her legs as the tentacle pulled from the dark-haired heroine’s throat. “You’ve always been my favorite little cunt licker, you know. Of all of them, you were always the most pathetic while you lapped at my cunt, you sexy little minx.” Maria brought her left hand down, sliding it over her belly and between her legs, the slick fingers beginning to rub along her slit, and she spread her pussy lips between her fore and middle fingers, letting Atalanta see the arousal that dripped from her cruel mistress. Her right hand moved to her right breast, squeezing it slightly, her thumb playing with her hardened nipples. “I don’t think anyone except dear Shal-ra has ever made me cum as much as you, and she had a hell of a head start. Always time for you to catch up, though… So get that cute face of yours between my thighs and start doing what you do best you worthless fucktoy slut!”

What else could she do? She had no escape… the best she could do was hope to survive and stay sane long enough to escape. Atalanta could barely move but she tried to will herself forward with the swaying of the tentacles, biting back the screams that wanted to shake loose from her body. Slowly Maria brought her forward until she was hovering between Maria’s spread legs. The Exalted doctor sighed happily and placed one long-fingered hand on Atalanta’s head, gently but insistingly urging her head down and forward, to her wet, hungry, eager center. Atalanta closed her eyes in shame as she parted her lips and allowed her tongue to lap at Maria’s exposed, slick folds.

Her captor shuddered at the touch of Atalanta’s tongue and pushed her further against her crotch. “Yes, you pretty thing… Just like that. Lick me. Satisfy me. Get me ready to hurt you even worse.” The whipping didn’t stop – Atalanta felt the sting of the whip across her much-abused back, her cries of pain muffled against her former hero’s cunt. Maria kept her head in place with one hand effortlessly, grinding her hips against the trembling lips and desperately lapping tongue. Still the whipping continued, making it clear that not even perfect obedience could protect her from pain and that the best she could do was finish pleasing her and hope she would move onto someone else that might be more tolerable. Hot tears stung the Exalted’s eyes but she could do little to avoid the pain.

Maria moaned as Atalanta’s quivering tongue found her clit and caressed it. She clearly cherished the girl’s warm breath caressing her, the very sight of her captive’s pretty face contorted with pain, crying and sobbing and all the time trying to do her best to please her captor in a vain attempt to save herself from at least a little bit of the agony. “Yes… Just like that. Lick me you stupid, worthless Federation fucktoy… use that precious tongue of yours, push into my cunt. Fuck me with it.” Her voice had a bit of purr in it. “Gods you might have been worthless as a marine and even worse as an Exalted servant of the Federation, but you were made to suck my cunt. I can’t even decide which… oh… oh yesss… which I prefer. You… licking… licking and slurping on your mistress’s cunt… or screaming in pain…”

Maria’s body arched once more. Atalanta’s nimble, dedicated tongue licking on the doctor’s cunt, buried so deep that her nose ground against her clit… it all made Maria breathe faster and faster in obvious arousal. The Hispanic Exalted moaned again and leaned backwards, almost pushing her cunt into Atalanta’s still slurping mouth. With one swift move, she moved one of her shapely legs, resting it on the back of the other woman’s neck while with the other she touched the front of the crying girl’s neck. Now, using her strong legs like a vise, she pressed down, choking her captive while she licked.

“Uggh!” Atalanta choked out, opening her eyes in shock. She gasped for air, but only managed to suck further on Maria’s wet cunt. This new agony didn’t get lost among the pain of the fucking and the whipping and the way her insides cramped… it sharpened them like the edge of a whetstone as they continued. The new burning in her lungs made all of them worse.

“Yes… struggle,” Maria purred happily. “Isn’t this just perfect? You serving me, the way you were always meant to?” Soft laughter erupted from Maria’s mouth as she watched Atalanta’s lithe body bucking in the grasp of the tentacles, trying to get some air. “You are only still alive because I will it, Atalanta… I only saved you to serve me eternally as a slave… and you were worth every bit of effort. You might not be good for much… but… this… this you are good for…” Almost as quickly as she’d grabbed her, the cruel woman released the hold, finally allowing the captive Exalted to grab some air… with her face all the time pressed against her captor’s pussy of course. In one swift movement, Maria leaned back even further and spread her legs wide, presenting her beautiful, glistening pussy to her captive as she reached forward, grabbed Atalanta’s hair and face with both hands, and yanked on her, almost burying her crying face into her snatch. “Suck… suck!” she gasped and moaned as Atalanta’s tongue began caressing her slit again, reaching everywhere, touching every pleasure spot that Atalanta could imagine. “So close… so…”

Then she did something Atalanta didn’t expect. She raised one hand and snapped her fingers, and an absolute storm of data poured through the simulation.

Despite the pain, despite the distraction of her sexual abuse, it was still enough to make Atalanta’s eyes widen. The data storm of transmissions actually seemed to warp virtual reality, so much information was blasting through the firewall… She couldn’t read any of it, but she didn’t have to because she recognized it. It was a merge… an Exalted merge. Atalanta had done them many times, combining herself with copies she had split off… but never more than one at once. Maria was merging experiences with dozens. In a flash of realization, the captive Exalted realized that the misery galleries of all the other captives weren’t just a gallery of trophies… they were a damn vibrator for Maria. Her copies existed inside those simulations with them, raping them, taking their pleasure, and then on demand Maria could gain all those experiences back all and once and…

Dr Keye screamed in the throes of ecstasy as an orgasm larger than anything Atalanta had ever imagined came over her. Holding the Exalted marine’s head tightly she pressed her hips forward, grinding her crotch into Atalanta’s crying, miserable face, feeling her betrayed victim’s tongue tremble in pain as she came in a flood of thousands of pleasant sensations. Her cunt gushed, almost a drowning flood and Atalanta needed to choke and struggle to swallow it down. She screamed with her pleasure as she came, pressing the other woman’s head into her crotch as hard as she could while the orgasm shook her, not caring that she cut off the Exalted’s air while she rode out the waves of her pleasure.

Atalanta thought it would never end, that the orgasm from all her copies merging their experiences would go on for an eternity, but when it finally finished and Maria released the agonized captive she felt woozy. It didn’t matter that she didn’t really need air, she still had to gulp in greedy mouthfuls of it and every gasp tasted like her rapist’s cunt. Her face was wet with tears and Maria’s arousal as the doctor slowly backed off, obviously feeling momentarily, and gloriously, weak from an orgasm greater than the biggest Atalanta thought she would ever have. “Oh… oh I missed you, Atalanta. I hope you don’t shatter too soon this time… there won’t be another differential backup coming to repair you this time. If I want a fresh copy I’ll have to start from the very beginning again, no memories…”

The tentacles slowly pulled out of her, one agonizing inch at a time. “So, what shall we do next?” she mused idly, trying to recover. “We have so much time to make up for, my perfect little dildo Atalanta. You’re a sex toy I can use and put away on the rack afterward until you finally break. What should be the next purpose I put you to?”

Atalanta didn’t know… but she was sure it would be awful. She tried to focus on something else, anything else… to cling to some measure of hope. Mustering such an outlook while her rapist slowly extracted what felt like a mile of tentacular cock from her asshole was a truly epic task worthy of any hero but… in this museum of depravity, Atalanta had finally learned something new. Both about Maria, and what was going on in the world outside.

She learned that no one would be coming for her. The outside world thought her dead… that she had killed herself in despair and self-hatred for her failure, and deleted her own backups. She had learned that there were many more Exalted than were publicly known about, and they were trapped within Maria’s virtual world, toys for her to sadistically play with just like Atalanta. She had learned that the war against the Kthid had essentially begun… that the Armada had left Earth. Battle awaited in the future.


She had learned, more strangely than anything else, that for some reason, Maria Keye kept an alien AI imprisoned within her mainframe.

Merely being reminded of that fact made the memory seem like an unreality. Even while the last inch of thick tentacle emerged from her gaping asshole the shock of that discovery wouldn’t fully recede. Why? How? What sort of gamesmanship was Maria playing at?

And who was Shal-ra?

Next Chapter ->

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