Digital Dreams

"Of course not! I have no reason to be grateful to a mere figment of my imagination... My brain will reject these so-called events sooner or later and I'll wake up from this nightmare I'm stuck in. When that happens, you'll be completely deleted!"

She shook her head disdainfully.

"I see you're still clinging to your unfounded belief that this is a dream. Of all the slaves I've disciplined in my many years of experience, you're the first to come up with an elaborate story like that. The only things that will be deleted around here are your ill-manners... I'm going to let you hang there until you tell Me you're grateful for the opportunity of becoming My slave."

Bergman couldn't help but be surprised. Not only he didn't have any control over the course of the events - they seemed to be unfolding on their own - but his guts were telling him that the digital dominatrix was somehow becoming much more like a normal woman. He could clearly see her shadow reflected on the floor and it had never been there before. Tilting his head slightly so he could observe all of the details more carefully, he realized that all the objects around were looking more—how should he put it? - consistent and solid. The more he claimed that it was all a dream the less dreamy it felt... what could explain that phenomenon?

He rapidly conjured a theory, worthy to feature on one of those great sci-fi novels. Dream-Spinner had most certainly begun to merge with his neuronal net, absorbing part of it and was now relocating the energy into the actual fabrication of that alternate reality... if by any chance he was right that meant two things: the first was obvious - he actually was a genius and mankind was sure to expect even more great things from him; the second was that the first affirmation would soon be rendered useless if he couldn't escape his own dreamland. He had to submit again and look for a path to freedom within his humbleness.

"Please, let me out of here..." he begged.

"I haven't heard the magic words, yet!"

"What are the magic words?"

"Haven't you been paying attention? Tell me how much you're indebted to Me for allowing you to continue in My presence... tell me you will never try to escape again and that nothing else matters to you than the excruciating need of surrendering yourself completely to Me... if you say those things and you're honest about them, I'll consider bringing you down so you can start worshipping Me the way you should have done in the first place!"

Bergman didn't want to say any of the things she was so desperate to hear, but it was obvious there wasn't much he could choose from. Swallowing his male pride for the sake of something greater - his very own survival -, he opened up his mind to this long speech:

"I feel very ashamed for acting in such a foolish way, Mistress. I guess I was afraid of your grandiosity when I first met You when I should have been filled with contentment for the opportunity of becoming one of your mindless and obedient sex toys. I have no words in me to express the utter repulse for my previous behavior and so I bow myself, heart and soul, before Your infinite power and mercy. Allow me to come down so I can crawl at Your command and carry out the sole purpose of providing you pleasure! Please, let me demonstrate how good of a slave I can be if guided by Your mighty hand and cruel training!"

The Mistress seemed to enjoy his verbal humiliation although he couldn't actually tell if that would be enough to persuade her. Bergman was already rearranging another set of supplicating sentences when he felt her long fingernails reaching out for his legs, sliding silently until they touched the tip of his half-erect cock.

"All of this is Mine, isn't it?" she asked. The erection grew, responding affirmatively to her touch.

"Yes, Mistress! All of it... I'm yours for life!"

"I don't expect less of you."

The contraption in which he was suspended descended with the touch of a button. Of course, it didn't come down slowly as that would be unfitting of her attraction to pain. A sudden jerk of the ropes that held it caused a violent strain upon his whole body. He bit his tongue so he wouldn't scream.

She was more cautious when it came to the time of releasing him from the plank itself but that didn't mean for a second she was going to treat him easily all the time. He realized just that when her stern voice returned and a command was sharply delivered:

"On your knees!"

"Yes, Mistress!" he replied and fell to the ground.

"That's better. I'm pleased with your rapid response."

"Thank you, Mistress! How can I begin to show You my devotion?"

"Remaining as rigid as you are right now is a good start. That is one of your priorities. Keep your dick ready to serve me at all times!"

"I will try, Mistress!"

She raised her voice once again.

"Don't try... do it! If I see you wither in front of Me, you're going to wish you were still suspended!"

"I understand, Mistress!"

"Get up and come with Me! Your first chore awaits you."

He was led into another room, behind the main dungeon. It was a big, white dressing-room, the storage compartment for all of her sexy outfits. Bergman was privileged enough to see her change into an attire that was even more enticing than the one she had been wearing. It was a latex dress with a kind of cut that was meant to expose an overwhelming cleavage. Around the waist, she placed a tight-fastening belt with a crevice on the middle for the insertion of something, although at the time he couldn't figure out what.

"This is so much better." The woman declared. "Come along. We're not done yet."

Back in the dungeon, she presented to him half a dozen dildos, all of them specifically designed to fit the orifice in her belt. Promptly, she ordered:

"Choose the one you will suck!"

Needless to say, he was horrified to hear her say that. Still, sucking a plastic dick wasn't as terrible as the prospect of other things that crossed his mind like having his skin lacerated by small hooks or suffering other forms of torture like electrocution therapy or a hot wax bath. All of the objects looked pretty much alike, varying mostly in size and thickness. He chose the medium-sized variant (the smaller one would probably offend her and the larger one was just too much for his mouth and throat...) and placed it respectfully on the belt.

"What are you waiting for, bitch? Suck it all the way!" she ordered.

Imagining he was about to eat a very delicious ice-cream, Bergman opened his mouth and began sucking. At first, he just slid the strap-on back and forth something which didn't please her one bit. She wanted more excitement, as that was supposed to be a never-ending source of pleasure and so he started to nibble it, occasionally licking the tip in a hooker-like fashion. He didn't object when she moved swiftly forward, allowing for the bulk of the object to melt with his taste buds and continued sucking deeply. At one time, he was faking it so well that one might actually believe he had been born with an appetence for cock-sucking.

Half an hour later, when he could no longer feel his gums and the surface of the dildo was positively sticky from saliva, he was relieved of his duties by a very frustrated Mistress. Apparently, and despite his best efforts, the outcome had been insufficient...

"I don't feel you motivated enough for this! Something is going to have to change, and it better change soon!"

"I'm sorry, Mistress! I want to keep up with Your standards but I don't know how..."

"That's because you're still too tight. You're still thinking instead of letting go completely. I'm going to have to make your mind focus for real on the goal of serving Me and I think I have just the right way to do it... move on to that chair over there and sit with your hands behind your back!"

"Yes, Mistress!"

The chair she was referring to proudly stood in the eastern section of the room. As he approached it, he felt a cold wind blowing down his spine. Looking down he saw what appeared to be ripples of water spreading. The whole room was fluttering, meaning that Dream-Spinner's connection to his brain was beginning to fade away, though he couldn't ascertain why. Even so, the realization of it all made him positively radiant... Just a few more moments and he would wake up, ready to smash that piece of machinery out of existence.

He sat on the chair, almost smiling. The Mistress handcuffed him to the chair and sat on him. His dick could almost smell her vivid cunt waiting beneath the dress.

"Look at me!" She instructed.

Once again, he had no trouble complying. After all, he was winning. He was prepared for everything, except for what he saw.

Her eyes had doubled their size, compliment of a lighting effect produced by the special pair of contact lenses she had just put on. Two green orbs of power were unleashed upon him, beckoning his soul, immediately ensnaring his attention. Then, her wet pussy dived into his manliness. In a matter of seconds, he was inside her, vibrating like a small child getting ready to watch his favorite cartoons.

"Oh... this is..."

"Don't say a word, slave! I'm going to take you on a very blissful journey. Just relax your mind and concentrate on Me... look into My eyes and just sink into them in the same way your cock is now sinking into My body... feel the pleasure that derives from this simple, yet addictive action and prolong it in your thoughts... think how good this is, how wonderful it is to have your dick completely erect inside of Me... and how my big, green eyes, make this experience even better, drawing you completely... look at them and feel Me driving your body into utter quietness... complete happiness. Isn't this just a perfect sensation? Don't you want to live it again and again? Look into My eyes and you can... just plunge deep into My eyes..."

"I know what you're trying to do..." he whispered.

"Good, then you know what you have to do to continue to feel this way. Look into My eyes... look into My eyes and forget everything else! Why bother with trifling matters, with the echoes of a dying world when all of Paradise lies within My green, powerful eyes? Look at them... sink into them... The more you concentrate on them, the happier you'll become... more and more drawn to Me... dutiful... helpless... a true slave..."

As he listened to her attempts of mesmerism, waves of energy began dispersing and parts of the scenario vanished before his eyes. The virtual world was collapsing, phasing out... just a few more seconds... just a few more seconds...

"... And you'll sink into them forever. You know this is going to happen and you want it so. You want it badly... accept the power of My gaze over your mind, slave! Submit to Me... submit to me! You cannot resist Me, anymore... you want to give in completely to my hypnotic power..."

It was true. He was magnetized, entranced inside the living dream. Though reality was resurfacing all around, he was losing itself to the fantasy and in her eyes there was nothing except a perpetual flow of power and the promise of mindless obedience.

"As of this moment, you're truly Mine!" she said. "You're broken to My superior will and the last threads of your pathetic individuality are to be erased immediately..." she declared.

Bergman's vacant eyes caught just a fleeting glimpse of a spiked, black collar. It had a silver tag attached to it with the number 1178 carved in it. Those four digits were to be his new identity the moment she placed the dominating object around his neck.

"Prepare to receive the ultimate proof of your surrender to Me!" he heard her say. Her hands caressed his hair, and he was acknowledged as his most recent piece of property.

"Hmmm... see how it fits you perfectly? Thank Me for showing you exactly who you were born to be, slave!"

His response only strengthened the trance state that had taken over his spirit, and the acknowledgment of inferiority turned out to be extremely liberating.

"Thank you for this honor. Number 1178 is at your service, Mistress!"

"I know you are..." she cooed as she released himself from his engorged sex, admiring yet another proof that she was indeed above all other creatures. As she released him from the handcuffs, she was certain that her dominion was absolute.

But she was wrong for the process of destruction of everything pertaining to that world was still active and it could no longer be stopped. Slave Bergman only had time to blink once before an explosion of blinding light enveloped her in a lethal cocoon. Her skin became translucent, signaling the ultimate demise. Her strong legs were the first thing to be devoured, then her torso and arms, followed by the outlines of her head. In horror, she gave out a loud shriek and the glow in her eyes was reduced to nothingness, dissolving from within...

* * *

On that exact same moment, Bergman woke up in his basement, naked and wearing a collar around his neck, strange fragments of a dreamscape that had almost become true. Apparently, his clothes had disappeared inside the alternate world.

After pinching himself twice in a row to check if he was really awake, he unplugged all of Dream-Spinner's connections and threw the gizmo against the far-end wall, instantly breaking it in a series of wires and micro-components that would take a lifetime to be reassembled again.

When the destructive fury was gone, and to his astonishment, he saw Karen Morrow sitting on the staircase, covering her mouth with one hand as if disguising a need to laugh out really loud.

"What are you doing here?" he asked while looking for something to cover his exposed body.

"Well, I came by to tell you I had already dealt with all of my problems and that I was ready to assist you but apparently you decided to carry on the experiment without me. I rang the bell and found out that the front door was unlocked. That's not very smart, you know? If I were a burglar, you would have been deprived of all of your precious little inventions... Anyway, I came down to this place and imagine how surprised I was when I found you lying there in that... let's call it 'strange condition'. You really have some awkward tastes, Peter!"

Bergman hid behind a computer screen, totally embarrassed by the predicament he was now in.

"This is not what you think, Karen! You were right, the test went terribly wrong! Luckily, I managed to get out of the dream I was having... You didn't have anything to do it, did you?"

"Of course I did! When I saw the relays around your head, I shook you a zillion times but you didn't wake up. So I cut the power source on the damn thing and there you are, back in the world of the living. Now, are you going to tell me exactly what happened or do I have to guess all of the sordid details?"

He scratched his forehead twice, averting eye contact.

"I'm not sure it's a good idea to tell you..."

"Don't worry, I promise I won't spread your fetishes around MIT. We're friends, Peter, you can trust me with anything..."

"I know. It's just..."

"Look, if you tell me what happened I'll tell you some of my dirty secrets as well so you may have a bargaining chip. Do we have a deal?

"Sure. It's a fair proposition. I'll tell you everything if you'll just let me find something to dress..."

"Be my guest, although I have to admit you don't look so bad wearing just that dog collar..." she replied, and then laughed once again.

Bergman stormed out, mortified but alive. He felt a bit hazy and there were some lingering leftovers of the virtual trance whirling in his thoughts that had him imagine what it would feel like to give up his control again, this time to a real person, one as caring and thoughtful as the beautiful Karen Morrow.

She went right behind him, eager to hear the whole story from start to finish and having some libidinous thoughts of her own. Neither of them looked back at the bits and bobs of what could have been mankind's greatest achievement. They are still scattered around the dusty basement today, but the truth is they will never spin again.