Strange Queens

'Sit.' She said. Chelsea sat immediately by the tether. Jordan watched, only slightly concerned.

'Step in, my child.' She said, and Jordan stepped forward. She was worried, but she saw Chelsea nodding happily at her and trusted her friend.

'Lay down in the chamber.'

Jordan stepped up and swung herself up, ignoring the sniff the Mistress took as her ass body moved past her, eventually wiggling and setting herself down in the moulded interior. Feeling a lot like a toy in a foam box, she tried not to let her rapidly beating heart get away with her. Glancing at Chelsea she saw her best friend at the end of her tether, straining against the bond to see her in her shaped coffin. With a jolt and hissing sounds, the lid slid down and locked into place over Jordan. She caught her breath and a moment later the interior suckered into her, it's strange, rather soothing material clamping onto her body. Everywhere skin was, it went, expanding under her breasts and armpits, inflating tight into her holes down below, filling the gaps between her fingers and toes. Jordan barely dared to breathe as she watched the head part moving down. She heard it lock around her face. She listened, her ears about the only thing she had left. Faintly, she heard laughter, evil female laughter that was laced thick with victory. Then, before Jordan could react, the material was on her. Within a second it had covered her face and was seeping into her nose and ears, seemingly pouring down her throat and inside her, filling her entire body with it's foreign body. She felt buzzing, as though her entire body was vibrating. Her skin prickled, tingled, fizzed with fire and ice, energy flowing across it. Her muscles jumped, her body twitched. Pain, pleasure, everything she could feel seemed to wash over her skin. Her mind was assaulted with thoughts and feelings that were not her own. She remembered her Mistress, the sexy woman outside, remembered her eternal slavery to her. Nothing seemed out of place to Jordan. Of course she was her Mistress's slave, who else's could she possibly have been?

With a hiss, blue lights lit up around her. A crack of light speared into the chamber and the doors parted and she stepped down from the platform. Going immediately to her Mistress she knelt down and ever so delicately kissed her crotch just as Chelsea had done before.

Chelsea saw this and felt her heart crash downwards. No, she knew that act of total slave submission. That was hers. Her special act, just for Mistress and herself.. Her mind cracked as she realised her Mistress, her loving caring Mistress had betrayed her and turned Chelsea's slave into her own. Chelsea grappled with her thoughts, her mind fighting itself. She was her Mistress's, she could do nothing wrong and if Mistress wanted the sexy raven haired bitch for herself then she would get her. But Mistress had also promised her to Chelsea, and now that she had taken her for herself Chelsea was faced with the idea of Mistress lying to her. If Mistress cared so much about her then why would she lie? Why use her?

Chelsea involuntarily let out a small whine as she began to shake, her pre-programmed love for her Mistress being challenged by her total love for Jordan. Mistress was her owner, she did what she wanted... But Jordan was hers, and Mistress had taken her. Of course she had, she was Mistress's... But Mistress had promised.

Chelsea was so wrought with distress that she began to cry. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sat butt naked on the floor chained to the pole like a good dog. Jordan turned from where she was rubbing her cheek lovingly against the inner leg of her Mistress to see the girl. Something in her heart panged for the blonde, but why she did not know. Mistress turned and scoffed.

'And what do you think you're doing, you little whore?' She said. Chelsea sniffed and turned her head away. 'Oh, I see. Were you betrayed, perhaps? By me taking your little slave whore?' Mistress said, grabbing Jordan's hair roughly. Jordan let out a tiny aroused whine. Chelsea turned to watch her but said nothing. Her mind was a battlefield of love for both of them, but only one could win.

'You think she does not belong to me, hmm? You think anything in this place does not belong to me?' She said gloatingly. Turning a little she briskly slid her tight pants down and Jordan instantly went to work devouring the soft silky flesh of her Mistress's labia. Chelsea let out a cry of arousal and pain.

'You forget who gave you this opportunity. Who gave you this power. Who promised you this all? I did! I can give it and I can damn well take it away!' She shouted as Jordan worked back and forth, one hand between her own legs as she worked herself up on her Mistress's juices. 'You need to remember your place, you slut. In this building I am the only rule, I am the only Mistress. Everyone here does as I command!' She gloated. 'Isn't that right, whore?'

Jordan moaned loud and hard as her lips and tongue worked and worked all over her and her eyes closed in pleasure.

Chelsea had had enough. She threw herself at her Mistress, but her collar snapped taut and she fell to her knees, coughing. The woman laughed evilly and placed a hand on her new slave's head.

'You disgraceful bitch. Learn your place.' She said. Then she drew a chain of some sort out from her pocket and held it before her. Chelsea saw it and froze. Her mind melted, her body went limp.

'Get into the chamber.' She was commanded. Chelsea stood up and Dr. Roberts, Mistress, unclipped the bond from her neck, Jordan never letting up between her thighs. Chelsea wandered over to the chamber, her eyes glazed on the black gem as Mistress held it out for her to see. She climbed in and Mistress waddled with her tongue-fucking little slave still locked between her legs. As the sexy little bitch's tongue sawed into her she activated the Machine's calibrate cycle and the lid descended on the blonde. She was encapsulated and once more her body was filled and caressed by it's insides. Shaped now to her body, it decompressed and retracted, but Dr. Roberts wasn't giving her time to prepare. Immediately she activated the "recreate" function, but hovered over the final switch.

'Oh Jordan, my little slave-whore.'

Jordan never her frenzied feast and looked up at her Mistress. 'Mmyes?'

'I want you to press the button.'

Jordan stood up and turned to the controls. She put her fingers on the switch and looked into the chamber at the blonde girl inside. Again, something in her twigged. She remembered the girl, but from where? Something strong, something special had passed between them. Was it love? But Jordan only loved Mistress. Could it be possible that she loved this blonde girl too? She certainly could see how. She was beautiful.

'Do it, Jordan. Prove you are my worthy slave.' came from behind her along with two hands gripping her ass, and Jordan stiffened. She inched the small trigger down but paused again. Why was she doing this? What did the girl do? Chelsea looked up at her, begging in her eyes,, whimpering slightly, the effects of her anchor obviously wearing off. She was so scared...

Mistress was unhappy. With a growl she threw Jordan aside and pressed the switch home. Jordan fell and her head jarred, her butt stinging with the impact on the hard ground. Her head felt dizzy and flustered, like her thoughts were loosely rolling around the bottom of her skull. The chamber began to descend, but just as it did, Jordan got up and pushed her Mistress hard. Caught off guard Mistress swung forward, her hips unable to move past the controls, and cracked her head against the lowering case top. Stunned she rolled forward into the case on top of Chelsea. Jordan grasped her face in shock, and made to pull her out, but the case was too far down and Jordan was only able to push her foot in so that it wasn't crushed. Jordan ran to the top of the machine where Chelsea's panic-stricken face hung out along with half of their Mistress's. Not knowing what else to do, the girls locked eyes.

Jordan knew why she loved this girl. This girl cared for her. She remembered now. She was her slave, and she loved her. She leant in and did the only thing she could.

She kissed her girlfriend on the lips.

The chamber's head section brushed Jordan's as she pulled away. Jordan stepped back and watched the horrific scene. The chamber's interior activated and the two females were encased in the recreation machine. A tear began to roll down Jordan's face as she watched, not daring to hope everything would be okay. She had doomed her Mistress, no matter which one was the right one, to death.

The machine whirred, red lights began to blink everywhere on the controls. Jordan rushed over and flicked what she thought might help. Suddenly, the device settled and the chamber to the left of the bed lit up with blue light. Steam or smoke billowed from the doors as they swung back and a silhouetted female stood inside. Jordan stepped back, she couldn't bear to see what was in it.

Chelsea stepped out of the chamber and looked at Jordan with a strange look. Jordan let out a cry of relief and ran to her, throwing her arms around her. Chelsea just stood there for a moment, not returning the hug. Jordan stepped back, holding her at arm's length.

'Baby?' She whispered.

Chelsea focussed on her. Confusion, then anger, then sorrow, then what had to be love crept into her face. Chelsea threw her arms back around her girlfriend.

'Jordan. Oh my god, it's you.' She said. Jordan cried out with happiness and hugged her back. Stepping away Chelsea spoke.

'Jordan, baby, I... I have so many weird thoughts in my brain...' She said. 'I, know things, about this place... I know how it works, and I know why you and I are what we are... It's like all her knowledge and thoughts were put into my head...' She said, holding her head as she stumbled. Jordan grabbed her and guided her butt to the table in the corner.

'In one instant, I want to experiment on you, to dissect how you work and make you perfect just the way I see you should be... Then, I feel this overwhelming love for you. Next moment, I feel dominant, commanding, and then, I feel submissive, crazy submissive. It's like she's part of me now...' Chelsea said, sitting. She took deep breaths and held her head.

'For instance, I know why I still have my body. The recreation chamber calibrates to a subject before they go through the process so that as few mistakes can happen as possible. There's always room for error, but by shaping the material to a body it's most likely to take that shape again and hence not miss-fire as it were. Her body was taken in as a fault and ignored, but her mind was different, treated differently. Like any mind it's set to extract the brain process and insert new pathways into the new body as it's built. So I got her brain but not her body.' Chelsea said.

Jordan stared at her. 'You mean, you and her are one person?' She said. In her mind, the programmed ties telling her to love Chelsea and those telling her to love Dr. Roberts, or Mistress, were happily lashing together to become one solid bond to the girl before her. The only two people she cared about had just become one.

Jordan hugged her tightly. 'Listen,' she whispered into her ear, 'whatever happens, no matter what, i'll always be here to protect you baby. Always. Your little slave-whore.' She said. Chelsea looked deep into her baby's eyes, and sincere emotion welled up and overflowed inside her. She sensed both the people inside her were feeling the same thing right now. She grabbed Jordan's face and kissed her.

And so it was that Chelsea and Jordan came to inherit the same place that had been their prison for the last few weeks. It turned out that Chelsea now not only had control over the entire building, as well as knew almost everything about it, but that she had been processed through the recreation machine nine times. First to break her mind. Then experimentation, eventually leading to her power over Jordan. She also learned why she had such an orgasmic fetish for spitting into Jordan just as she came. Chelsea's natural body fluids contained substance traces of her enhanced mental chemical balance, her body's natural way of letting off the extreme amounts of the chemical that made her mind control possible. This meant little for her as her mind simply made more but had a huge impact on Jordan's untouched body and mind, the chemicals being sucked directly into her as she orgasmed and spread throughout her bloodstream. They were the reason for her total submission to Chelsea before even being processed, as it were, through the conditioning recreation.

It was one day as Chelsea and Jordan were wandering hand in hand through the lower levels of the huge place that they discovered a strange room with closed circular chambers. As Chelsea entered the room, lights flicked on and doors around the chambers slid back to reveal glass inside containing, in strange bluish liquid, the black mummified shapes of Chelsea. Nine chambers had, suspended in them, Chelsea's exact body replica in them.

'So this is where all my past bodies are kept...' She breathed. Jordan approached one shorter shape with larger breasts and hips.

This was hers.

'But how?' Jordan asked. 'I was never put through it.' She said.

'Well, you were... When you first arrived, I... She, well, she had to have you. I can't remember properly but I think she tried to duplicate you, reanimate the original body too, but it was a total failure. She was so distraught she copied you again immediately and your identical copies fawned over her until one started to go crazy. It began to damage itself... She was forced to put it back in and she stored it's genes for later.' Chelsea said with a shudder. 'This is the original mould.'

'So, i'm the good egg...' Jordan said, her hands on the glass. She peered in at her other self. She could see right into her own pussy from here. 'My god...'

Chelsea came over. 'I'm sorry, baby, I truly am...' She said.

'It's alright, it's just...' She took a moment to go on. 'Do you ever, question your own mortality? Seeing myself here... Knowing that this solidified shape is the real me, that encased inside that black stuff is my real, home grown, mother-born body, and that this one is some... Some perfectly re-created version of it... It feels so weird.' Jordan said. Chelsea simply hugged her girlfriend. 'It's okay. How do you think I feel seeing nine different copies of my exact self?' She said. Jordan sniffed and smiled. 'Yeah, you're right of course.'

The girls wandered out, leaving the peacefully floating frozen snapshots of themselves in their chambers.

Two weeks passed and Chelsea finished fixing the recreation chamber with her knowledge gained from her merging with their previous captor. Chelsea was coping quite well. It was as though the process had given her a split personality. Mostly she was soft, kind, loving Chelsea, but sometimes randomly she would be the dominating commanding psychotic scientist, Dr. Roberts. The scariest of these moments happened when Jordan and Chelsea were eating. After realising that Roberts had prepared and delivered their meals herself, Chelsea automatically took on the brunt of the kitchen work, with Jordan always by her sideto help of course. They had been preparing carrots picked from the selection of fresh produce outside when Chelsea had spun, her knife held gripped tight in her hand, the other clenched by her side. "You!" She had breathed, bearing down on Jordan. "You have fouled my entire plan! You little slut!" She had screamed. Jordan was so scared that her mind took over. In an instant of non-thought, as though her sudden fear had flicked a switch in her mind to auto-pilot, she stepped in close to Chelsea and grasped her breasts firmly with both hands and planted her lips hard on hers. Chelsea, or Dr. Roberts, was so shocked that her personality seemed to freeze, and Chelsea was able to slip back into control. In a second she dropped the blade and her arms went around Jordan, pulling her in tight. She slid those arms down and gripped Jordan's firm ass and physically lifted her up and sat her on the bench, forcing her legs apart and delving deep between them tongue first.

Chelsea's little personality fits almost always left her extremely horny, so it wasn't uncommon for Jordan to wake up, turn around or listen out to hear or see Chelsea madly writing an idea down, or staring daggers at her, or running about frantically, and then a few minutes later be rigorously ramming her pussy against the other girl's in the heat of furious sex.

So it was that two weeks on from the momentous moment Chelsea and Dr. Roberts combined that the chamber was once more fixed. In fairness, Roberts was a genius. Her ideas were revolutionary and incredible, and with her living inside Chelsea she was able to create them still. But after two weeks, the girls living side by side each day through routines or food, exercise, games, sex and exploration, that they became bored and lonely. The place was huge and had five levels complete with recreation, training, research, living and free space and lift access to all. Recreation boasted a pool, bar and restaurant, somehow able to run totally off robot engineering. Training boasted just about every piece of gym equipment plus a lap pool, sand pit and grass pitch, as well as almost every game you see as sideshows or pop up events. Research was a lab that was practically taken out of Iron Man. Living, the level the girls stayed in, was the ground floor and had endless rooms just like theirs, converging around the large room in which the recreation chamber resided (a room that turned out to be it's own sort of service lift down to the lab, which is how such huge equipment was researched, set up and lifted up there) and above it the top floor, so far unused with just a couch and coffee table facing the huge windows. The view was breathtaking from there, the girls could see right out over the entire city below.

But things were growing stale. The same thing day after day was great, and the girls happily did it for their love for each other, but eventually they began to miss home. They were lonely, and, they both admitted it, kinda fantasised over the possibility of using their newly inherited powers on the unknowing masses below. Jordan and Chelsea weren't afraid to admit they could really get off on the thought of bringing people up here and turning them into their sexy slaves. They had the resources, rooms, food, technology. The place was theirs to do with as they pleased. In the end... Why the fuck not?

And so Jordan and her girlfriend took one of the vehicles in the garage on the bottom level and left the rich mountainside building in which they had been both imprisoned and set free. Dressing for the first time in weeks the girls felt strangely hidden from both each other and the world in them. The drive ended up being nearly an hour, but they passed through the suburban sprawl and were eventually greeted by Jordan's small apartment. Letting herself in with the key she kept in the shabby slice of rotten door frame at the top of the door she beheld the mess left by her extraction. She could still remember the chilling moment she had been grabbed naked from her bathroom, dragged kicking and screaming down her hall and outside where she was knocked out. She wasn't surprised none of her neighbours had heard, but the landlady, Mrs. Everetts, hadn't left her any notes. Her and Everetts got on quite well, for once a friendly renter Jordan could rely on. She often popped around to see how her clients were. Perhaps she had assumed the mess was caused by Jordan and a wild partner stumbling home late one night then disappearing off to his place for two weeks of lusty fun before, inevitably, Jordan came home in tears. The kindly house owner wasn't afraid to spend an evening comforting the beautiful young girl from her troubles.