My name is Lucy.  I’m twenty-six years old, and for the past five years I’ve been a sex slave to a machine; a machine I created.  This is the story of it’s inception and the beginning of my self-imposed slavery.

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1 - Japan

       I came into a large amount of money through the development of various popular software in my late teens, while studying at University.  More than I knew what to do with, in fact, and a lonely life with it.  Following my studies was a period of introversion for me, and I found myself regressing back to my teenage days, fantasising about almost everything imaginable.  I used to read a huge number of erotic stories and spend hours browsing images and videos of countless fetishes.  The stories were always what grabbed me though, and those were what I found myself drawn back to now I had the money to spend so much time to myself.

       The stories I loved were the ones that just seemed completely outrageous; not in the sense that a lot of people would think, but ones dealing with really extreme fantasies.  Permanent body modification, full sexual slavery and complete 24/7 submission turned me on so much I found myself addicted to my own self-pleasuring.  I spent a lot of time in self-bondage, but after a while the satisfaction this brought began to fade, and since much of my life was spent thinking about them, the stories began to seem more and more like things I could accomplish.  Had to accomplish, I should say; it felt as though they were the only way I could fill a void that had opened within me.

       And so my plan began to form.  I had only a few relatives and friends, none close; I hadn’t kept up with any of my reasonably numerous University friends since graduation and had left home in the South of England many years previously on bad terms with my close family.  My small fortune had been made largely anonymously and so I reasoned that I could reasonably easily disappear into my new life.  Perfect.

       At the centre of it all was a machine I was to create.  Closer to a computer controller, I suppose.  The theory was that I would have my body modified in such a way that I would seem largely similar to an outside observer, but my electronic creation would be able to remotely monitor every relevant part of my anatomy and behaviour, and more importantly have complete control over me if it wished.  I had finished planning, and had created all of the pieces I would need using my own knowledge and some willing specialists found online.  The first thing to do was to have myself... altered.  This would be the tipping point; after this any backing out would lead to a miserable and unsatisfied life.  Not that I was in any mood to back out;  I was hornier than I’d ever been in my life, and the plane to Japan couldn’t come soon enough.

*   *   *   *   *

       The clinic was both incredibly secretive and yet also world renowned for it’s work.  They specialised in unique, experimental and almost always sexual body modification; perfect for my needs.  They knew all about the procedures and changes I wanted, and welcomed me warmly and professionally when I arrived.  My surgery was not due to begin until the next day, and the clinic had laid on a special treat for me, in acknowledgement of my upcoming changes and, frankly, of the vast sum that was their fee.

       I had finished settling into my accommodation, a luxurious and minimalistic place.  Having just stepped out of a beautiful shower, my long tousled blonde hairs only just beginning to dry, and completely naked, I was caught by surprise in my bedroom by a petite Japanese girl.  A few inches shorter than I, she wore a beautiful set of sheer white lingerie; bustier, garters, stockings and a thong.  It blended almost seamlessly with her ivory skin and her long, straight, jet black hair stood in gorgeous contrast.  The girl couldn’t be even nineteen; her firm breasts stood perfectly developed and her body was toned and firm.

       “Miss Taylor?  I know this is incredibly forward, but the managers and I thought that you deserved... some fun before your treatment tomorrow.  I understand this is your last opportunity?  Hearing about what you want to do to yourself, I couldn’t resist coming here myself; you have my complete admiration.”

They knew what I liked.  I’ve been a lesbian for as long as I can remember having a sexual preference; the idea of a man doesn’t turn me off, but a beautiful woman is irresistible.  I didn’t even bother replying; we both knew why she was here.  I moved in to kiss her, and she responded by throwing her tongue deeply into my mouth.  She pushed me roughly to the bed, slipped off her thong and started crawling all over my body, licking and biting.  She quickly moved to be kneeling on either side of shoulders, leant down and  stuck her tongue into my pussy.  There was no pretense; her aim seemed to be pure pleasure for me, and I was already completely wet.  Her own pussy was so close in front of me, flushed pink and dripping wet that I couldn’t resist throwing my mouth against her.  We spent the entire night locked together in that bed, using our mouths and hands on each other.  I awoke in the morning with her draped across my body, completely naked and looking so fragile and slight that I found it hard to remember how confident and experienced she’d been in bed with me.

Of course, remember it I did.  I lightly ran a finger over her clit, and she started awake with a yelp of surprise.  Once she got her senses back, she giggled naughtily, biting my nipple so close to her waking mouth.

“I’m truly sorry we can’t play more, I’d be all over you all week if I could.  But this is your choice, Lucy.”  She glanced at the clock, “It looks like you’re due downstairs soon; I’d better go and prepare too.”  With a final slow, teasing lick she danced happily out of my door.  She was so gorgeous I wanted to doubt my own decisions.  Eventually I came back to my old resolve, snapping out of an internal debate and finding my fingers busy with my own clit.  I snapped out of my haze and jumped into the shower.  It was time to head downstairs to the clinic.

*   *   *   *   *

       I dressed in basic but pretty blue underwear and donned the light robe that had been laid out for me before heading out into the clinic, and to the room I had been directed to when I arrived.  Knocking on the door, I was called in and greeted by a small team wearing medical gear.  I was led through to an operating theatre.  After removing the robe and my underwear, I took up my position naked and slightly self-conscious on the operating table.  The plan was to install all of the modifications possible without anaesthetic, before putting me under and completing the process.

       The woman who I knew to be the head surgeon, and with whom I had dealt in organising all of this, stopped to confirm with me;

       “Miss Tayl-... Lucy?  Can I confirm that you really want to continue?  Just say the word we agreed on and we’ll get underway.  You can call this off; we’re aware of the intentions you have for the work we’ll be doing.”

       I was quiet for a minute or two while I made sure in my mind that this was what I wanted.  My fingers were absent-mindedly playing with the tight skin around the base of my flat belly when I finally resolved.

       “Go ahead.  The word is ‘loveheart’.”

       “Thank you.  Now, try to relax.”

       And that was it; they got to work.  As you may have guessed, most of the work was planned for a pretty focussed area between my legs, but first came my torso.  A female nurse wasted no time in piercing a hole in each of my nipples, teasing them with her fingers until they stood erect enough.  It was mind-blowingly painful, and I shouted out.  The team knew that I had agreed to have this done whatever my protestations once I had spoken the special word, and so they carried on, ignoring my pain.  While the pain was still pounding out from both of my nipples through the 32DD boobs, another doctor began fitting my first, and only, jewellery.  On each pierced nub, a tiny ring-shaped electronic module wrapped tightly, and a metal bar through the new hole in front of the rings made sure they’d never slip off.  An almost flat shield of smooth surgical steel then locked into place over each sore nipple using the same bar.  My nipples were sealed off; I could now only feel the pressure of the doctor’s touch through the metal plates over the continuing pain of the piercing.  Next was to add highly advanced prosthetics over each, now useless nipple.  These would bond with my skin; the glue tingled immediately when it came into contact with the skin of my tits; and look and feel to the world like real nipples.

       If I thought the nipples were painful, I was completely wrong.  The next thing I knew, a nurse was playing with my clit to make it stand out, and as soon as I’d adjusted to the embarrassment, she drove a third hole straight though it.  I screamed in pain, beating the edges of the table with my hands and thrashing.  Two doctors held down my body as I began to calm, but I was whimpering; I knew what I could feel happening down there.  I’d planned it, after all.  Before long, my clit, my ultimate source of solitary joy and pleasure, had succumbed to the same treatment as my two nipples.  I felt the tingle of the glue and reached down to give an experimental light flick.  I felt nothing, and I cried a little; it was all a bit too much for me.

       The doctors went about setting up the next stage for a minute or two to allow me to catch my breath and let the pain from my new piercings subside a little.  I was upset, panicked and horny out of my mind.  I silently willed them to carry on, and they obliged.

       My knees were pulled roughly apart on the table, exposing my glistening wet pussy.  The girl I’d spend the night with stepped in front of my legs, holding an item I recognised from my preparations.  Her eyes were visible above her surgical mask, and they were full of anxious concern.  Or was it sadness?  It was almost as though she couldn't bear to see me sealed off like this after the night we’d spent together.  She moved between my legs and I felt the device nuzzling the gap between my legs.  She began to slide it in; a long, slim metal dildo.  It met little resistance, I was so turned on it slid straight inside me.  Then she began to turn a gear on the bottom of the device.  I felt it stir inside me; the feeling was incredible.  The dildo was growing wider, curved metal plates dilating smoothly like a camera shutter.  It grew and grew, slowly, until she finally stopped turning.  I’d almost come from the sensation, it was so intense, and I knew the dildo was now somewhere around 3 inches in diameter.  I felt wide open, and explored my now gaping hole with my fingers.  I felt only the warm steel and nothing else, not the sensation I was used to with my fingers down there.

       The small gear was detached, and I could feel the horrible glue binding the metal invader to the inside of my tunnel forever.  I began to sob; the most complete removal of my sensation was complete.  The gaping metal tunnel that now counted for my vagina was filled with a special prosthetic; it held an internal, currently empty, reservoir, and looked and felt entirely like the real thing from the outside.  My clit and pussy now looked better than new; perfectly designed prosthetics mimicked the real thing incredibly, and beneath them I was completely sealed.  I felt nothing from my clit, and around the fake, tight, intensely fuckable fleshy tunnel that was my new pussy I was wide open and entirely senseless.

       It was almost time to be put to sleep.  I was stilling weeping a little from self-sorrow and was already feeling the frustration of my new body.  As I slipped under from the anaesthetic, I dreamt of what was to come, and I panicked before settling into unconsciousness.

       I stirred awake on the bus arriving into the central bus station of my city.  My recovery in and journey back from Japan had been pretty uneventful but uncomfortable; areas all over my body were feeling sore, tender and tight.  I worked my way to a taxi and after twenty minutes or so, I arrived outside my house on the outskirts.  I hesitated at the gate, knowing what was programmed to happen when I passed through the front door, before regaining my composure and heading in.

*   *   *   *   *

2 - Coming Home

       I walked into the front hall and closed the door behind me.  There was a click from within the wood.  So this was definitely happening... the various sensors operated by the computer in the basement had detected my presence, scanned the implanted electronics in my body and reported that I was home.  The program had started.  A screen on the wall of the hall (I’d installed at least one in each room of the house) flickered out of sleep and I was met with a live image of myself.  My ample breasts looked pretty amazing in my pink sweater, and I stood admiring myself.  Really I was distracting myself from what I knew was coming, and sure enough, typed words began to appear along the bottom of the image.

welcome home, slut.

command: strip naked.

command: kneel, hands behind head.

       I knew what the repercussions would be if I didn’t comply (I wrote them, after all).  I was in my own house, I had no trouble peeling my travel clothes off and throwing them to one side.  Before long, I was looking pretty good on the monitor on the wall, my tight body now mostly recovered from the various surgeries I’d undergone.  I wasted no time lowering myself to the floor, kneeling down and interlocking my hands behind my head.  This was turning me on, I felt the familiar flushes I used to get in self bondage, my breathing started to quicken, and an instant later I felt an electric jolt in both of my nipples.  It wasn’t much, probably the same feeling as a static shock, but the surprise of it drew a squeal from my mouth.  This was the system telling me off for some misdemeanor, so I looked up from my flinch at the screen;

fault: legs not spread far enough.

command: kneel, hands behind head.

       I scolded myself under my breath - I was really feeling horny when I programmed the computer with it’s positions, and I dreaded how far I’d pushed the others.  I quickly shuffled my knees apart, forming a right angle from my legs and pulling myself up straight, pushing my breasts outward as I recalled the checks that would be being performed on me.  I tinkling little chime was played to indicate that the commands had been fulfilled and I held my position; a rule I had agreed with my controller was that position commands should be held as long as no contradictory orders were given. 

       I waited and waited for more text to appear on-screen, worrying that after so short a time the program might have run into some unforeseen bug.  My knees began to get sore, and my thighs started to quiver from the exertion of holding them so far separated, and a need for the toilet after my international journey.  I was getting cold, my nipples had turned hard and I was shivering slightly.  After an amount of time which must have been designed to test me, I got my next orders.

discarded items identified at: hallway, floor

command: remove all discarded items to container: casual clothing

beginning ‘welcome home’ routine:

command: retrieve all available items from container: toy box

       I gulped: it was beginning.  I didn’t want another reminder shock, though, so I hurriedly collected up my clothes from the floor and set off to my bedroom.  Halfway there, I began to hear a quiet beep coming from all the screens around the house, initially one a second, but speeding up.  I began to sprint to the bedroom, recognising this as the alert that my time was about to run out for completing the current command.  Just as I was passing through the doorway to my room, I ran out of time; the beeps merged to a single drone and I was brought to my knees with a scream and a flash of pain, many times stronger than the last, right on my clit.  I scattered the clothes everywhere as I fell, and threw both my hands to my clit out of instinct. I had a mental jolt as my fingers made no impact on the pain, and in fact were not felt at all.  The pain and this stark reminder of my modifications brought me to tears, but soon I heard the beeps start up again, so I pulled myself to to my feet and took the clothes over to a large trunk with a flashing green light on the clasp.  There were others, but currently they were all displaying solid red lights.  I deposited the clothes, and once the trunk closed I heard another of the already too-familiar internal clicks, and the light went red.

       Remembering my other command, I headed to a large solid wood wardrobe also in my room; this was designated ‘the toy box’.  Inside I found a huge array of small drawers, each with another small light shining just above the pull.  Almost all were solid red but a few were flashing green, signifying that these draws were unlocked.  I took the contents of each, and in turn they locked behind me, turning the entire drawer-face red.  I held in my hands a large black rubber butt plug, fat and heavy, and a shining red ball gag held inside a black leather harness.

command: insert gag

command: insert plug

command: the time is 23:48, time for bed

       I whimpered - one thing I knew for certain was that the computer didn’t mean my real bed when it said ‘bed’.  Not the beautiful, king-sized bed sitting proudly in my bedroom just a few metres away.  That was not my bed anymore.  My bed was downstairs, in the lair of the beast, the basement.

       Before I headed down, I had some other orders to take care of.  I quickly fastened the gag into my mouth, my teeth and lips spreading already uncomfortably wide, and pulled the straps tight (the controller had a number of ways of checking details like this - they were after all one of its primary concerns).  Next I steadied my breathing and headed downstairs to the basement, taking the butt plug with me.  I glimpsed the computer against one cold wall, but hurried over to another area where I knew there was a dispenser of something that would help me with the plug.  I tried the button, and a steady stream of lube trickled out of a spout.  I ran the plug under it, not wanting to take any chances, before the stream stopped and I walked to an open spot in the room.  Kneeling down, I let my upper half fall to the ground so that I could start to ease the plug into my ass.  The cold tip touched me and I gasped - I had not lost feeling there - and I pressed it further, biting the gag against the sensation that it caused.  The plug felt too big, and I physically couldn’t take it in any further.  Just as I started to panic, the beeping started again and I tried desperately to push the plug deeper into my ass, forcing it with both hands and bringing tears to my eyes with the pain.  The beeping got faster and faster, and I threw myself into a sitting position, ramming the plug up inside me, to fill and stuff my asshole more than  I’d felt before.  I screamed into the gag and began squirming around, focussing my will on not taking it straight back out again.

       The beeping had stopped, and the controller was waiting for me to fulfill my next command; ‘time for bed’.  So, it had decided to start welcoming me back tomorrow, after a gentle night’s sleep... I cast my tear-streaked eyes around the basement properly for the first time since returning.  The place was kitted out like a dungeon, there was almost ludicrous-looking furniture all over the place; benches, steel, tables and chains were everywhere.  As was the theme, there was a light somewhere near each one, and I scanned for the green one; whatever it was was to be my ‘bed’ tonight.  My heart sank; in one corner of the room there were two boxes; one, an open cage of metal, and another, opaque metal safe of a thing with an innocuous green light flashing above it.  The computer was really trying to break me in...  I struggled to motivate myself to straighten up from the floor and go to my bed.  it was around two and a half or three feet in every dimension on the inside.  As I walked towards the box, the huge toy in my ass began to pulse with a mild vibration and shock.  This was one of the worst beds in the place; I was being put through a night of hell by my master, and the thought terrified me and made me hornier than I ever imagined; this was an even more intense feeling than I thought I would have all those months back when I was putting everything together.  As I stood, transfixed with fear, staring at the box, my ass began to get stronger and stronger pulses, getting too painful to bear.  I was forced, teary, into my night storage.

       I knew what was desired of me.  I crawled backwards into the box, ending up in a kneeling position, facing out of the large swung door of my safe.  I aligned my calves with the two edges of the box and strapped them down tight with the leather fixtures that were there waiting.  For the second time tonight my legs were spread painfully wide, and this feeling wasn’t going away soon... As I looked out of my night’s prison, I slipped my hands behind me, trying to do it before I noticed, and pushed them into two recesses sitting next to each other high up in the back face of the safe.  Instantly I felt my hands fastened inside the holes; clamped back into the wall.  At the same time, the straps around my legs tightened even more and I wailed through the gag.  I heard motors and the door began to swing shut, the lights in the room switching off at the same time.  In the darkness, I heard the door thud shut and lock with a heavy clunk.

       I was trapped, held painfully tightly and securely in my tiny, claustrophobic world.  I still really needed to go to the toilet and I was starving hungry, cold and exhausted.  After an unknowable length of time passed, the butt plug sprang to life, tormenting me with a severity I hadn’t counted on.  It would shock the hell out of me, bringing loud screams from my lips as I writhed against my bondage.  My nipples joined in some time through the night, and after what felt like hours I was driven crazy with the sexual torment of it all, thrashing around in the safe.  I blacked out, not that it made much difference in there, and went to sleep in my bed for the first time in my new life.