The Endless Chamber

Claire, she was beautiful in the eyes of every one who passed by her. She'd considered herself a goddess really, being in the peak of womanhood, having a body that was hard-earned with years of exercise, effort, and a whole plethora of amazing genetics.

She never imagined she'd find herself here... now, with all that she is. Think of it? Claire, a beautiful, sex-driven matriarch, now entrapped in a carbon metal chamber; slimy and evasive, thick snake-like worms wrap around every seeable surface the skin, harvesting every bead of sweat, and drop of milk; her body in stasis as the constricting dark metal casing has left her unable to move, floating a thin saliva-like fluid that houses her and the worms. Their touch is not only uncomfortable, but violating, as her body's crevasses are all penetrated unceasingly, the worms intimately understanding their subject, which they have now come to know as mother.

Devoid of any free will, Claire is subject to the obsessive tentacle like beings. The penetrate wherever they can, constricting around her till she's entirely covered. Being the size of snakes, they're vigorous and filled with energy, as their constant harvesting is a never ending source of vitality. As they move constantly around her, keeping her covered, Claire experiences orgasms like none other. She's all but lost her mind as their endless penetration never ceases to pleasure, to horrify, and to forcefully arouse her faculties, keeping her mind fuzzy and her vision blurred with ever increasing waves of pleasure.

The carbon chamber, a silent, cold, dark metal framing, showing a beautiful, sculpture-like figure of her body on the outside, contains her torment on the inside. Her needed nutrients and oxygen are given by the machine through her face, and she often finds a strange love for the throat-bottoming tube that gives throughout the day. Her nerves are shot, and the stimulation has numbed every emotion she's felt as the months within the chamber now feel like decades. A small chip implanted in the spine depicts into her brain what is desired by her owner. She's often forced to spend her days reliving her greatest fears that the chip finds in her brain, only they are reiterated sexually, and horrifically. At night, she's treated to either pitch black, or a glimpse into the sexual escapades of her owner that night, who so desperately wants her to watch.

Her chamber, mounted to his wall, is now a decoration that faces the right side of his bed. He often stares at her form that so beautifully occupies the front panel of the chamber, knowing the a mere inch separates him from her. He wonders about the disturbing and unwilling pleasure she's going through, the torment he's been causing her, and the worms the violate her being endlessly. He smirks... victorious.

She watches him, having sex with yet another one of her closest friends. He's young, blonde, robust, only the age of a college student, while she's reaching her forties. She'd joined an organization called ESTA when she was a mere 20-years-old, hearing that she'd be given a life of pure sexual fulfillment. They had made a promise she couldn't yet refuse, and as the years went on, they had delivered again and again.

However, she was in all reality, a slave, being bought by contract, and sold to the highest bidder, each new buyer and owner had wonderful relationships with her. What Claire had yet to know about was, was the dark underbelly of ESTA, and the horrific scientific experiments that truly ran their organization. She knew of their torments here and there, but never felt she was to be subjected to them, for she felt she was much better than that.

When Jason had bought her, she was ecstatic for the young and vigorous man he'd be. For years, she and him were lovers; when he bought her contract, they spent night and day together. He explored her older, sexier, and more experienced form. She taught him, gave him direction and skill; the two were more closer than anyone they'd met. He often told her of his plans to use his ESTA money to have them both retire, and live endlessly in a far-off snow cabin, making love. She was like a guiding eagle, a matriarch for his younger mind. He was like a son, standing by and looking to her for his next meal, really his next tasting of her. While he was in charge, he respected her, and she let him call the shots while she waited for him to indulge in her beautiful body again and again.

Now, she's embarrassed. She yearns as she sees him ravage a former friend, the worms seem even worse now, constricting tighter and taking quick turns to fully enter her pussy, making her scream orgasms into the throated tube that fed her, that kept her alive. For hours, she watches, suffering unwanted pleasure as she's done before. The act is done, and her owner lays there, head fallen back into the older woman's large breasts, pillowing his cheeks; she giggles, wrapping her leg around his hip and whispering into his ear. They talk about our captive, her history, what she's like, and he admits to missing her. The friend laughs in remembrance of how our captive once believed she was beyond the torment that ESTA requires. The owner, having his hand behind his nightly companion's back, kneading her ass-cheek, explains the process of the captive.

Nearly 5 months ago, she was taken in the night by Collectors - large, gray-skinned male beings, having fangs, alien eyes, and hairless bodies. Their genitals were large, cumbersome, and often seen as barely monster-sized dicks that would definitely stretch any woman.

Claire travelled in a pod, a glass casing filled with numbing fluid, as she heard the elites and her owner ogle over her body. For weeks, she was violated, deprived of sleep, and kept docile by machines that held her body in place. The elites did their work, and her owner watched every second. He never joined in, he only witnessed the process. But while violation took place, stinging strikes made to her back and rear were a form of breaking down. Never breaching the skin, she felt as if every strike was dangerously close to doing so... but the elites were professionals. Once the end was near, she could feel her torture... and strange pleasure, was finalizing. The violations became more intense, and yet, less frequent. Doctor elites now checked every part of her body, guaranteeing the success of her chamber entrance. Once admitted, she was then put into a rehabilitation pod, where her slapped skin, and burrowed openings went back into their purest possible form.

She awoke, steam buzzing around her as a pinch lingered where the spine meets the skull - the placement of the chip. Her owner came to her, her body being propped up by machines, her hands and feet clamped to restraints, keeping her in mid-air, exposed... the sound of clanks and cogs ricocheted in the large metal hole beneath her. He kisses her breasts, squeezing them for one last time, then squeezing her cheeks a bit aggressively. He explains that it must be done, that he loves her, and he's doing what's best.

He justifies - saying he truly cares for her because he sees the potential in her, and will unlock it at all costs. Another kiss to the lips is finally given, before she starts descending into the loud, mechanical pit. She sees a panel appear in front of her, and is suddenly manipulated to the shape it's embedded, screaming the loudest she's ever had before... silence.

Her owner, a young, robust, college student, very out of place with the experienced Collectors, sees his treasured matriarch, a motherly figure to him, arise in a dark metal chamber. He smiles, and the elites seem relieved that the process went so smoothly. They gripe that the emotional breakdown process took an extra week, and then start programming the nightmare protocols. The owner just stares at the beautiful still figure on the front panel, walking around he sees the control computers on the side, and is surprised to see a laser-drawn embodiment of her butt, heels, and backside on the back of the chamber. He comes around again, cupping the metal breasts, tickling the metal toes. She's encased, and he knows it.

Going back, Jason's still staring at her, his nightly companion now fast asleep. The camera is still on until he turns it off, automatically starting the nightmare protocol on his encased lover who would then spend the next night and day cycle experiencing her greatest fears sexualized before her, becoming her tormenter and violator. He stares into the camera, whispering to her that he misses her. She only feels the worms, the incredible, never-ending orgasms, and her emotions raise to tears, which are then wiped up by them. Her anger against him is only thwarted by her care for him. She's betrayed by the young man who's become like a son to her, and she can remember now how great their love was. The sex, the lust, the unceasing exploration - the encasement, the nightmares, the penetrating worms have numbed every aspect of her reality, besides those wonderful memories.

He looks into the camera, knowing she's looking back. A moment of connection, as he places his hands on the metal casing of her body, feeling the tiny vibrations and movements within, knowing that only an inch away lies his matriarchal lover, in a condition unimaginable, and intriguingly under his complete control. He moves to the control switch, keeping the microphone on but then turning the camera off. The dark now highlights his next movements, as she can tell he's up to something. Some beeps of buttons, and turning of a few knobs then flash as shockwaves arch inside the chamber. Small ions are charged and then released, sending painful shockwaves to the captive, the worms being stimulated, reinvigorated, and now more aggressive. The shockwaves come constantly, every ten seconds. He whispers to her microphone, "I'll see you next week."

An unimaginably agonizing week passes, the captive being fed painful shockwaves every ten seconds, them rattling her brain, and invigorating the worms, as well as numbing the orgasms to brief moments of relief from yet another shock. No camera has been activated, the nightmare sequences not stopping, and she's felt the chamber's gravity shift a few times. Her body feels young, much more sexual, and more energized. But the disturbing feeling of those worms disgusts her, as they please her and give her tiny escapes from the shockwaves.

The feeling of them inside her every opening, their squirming between her toes, their strong suck to her skin, and especially her breasts. The invading tube protrudes again, dispensing a paste slowly, taking hours to make a full cycle for water and paste. It protrudes back and forth into the throat cavity, a feeling she's much accustomed to, now done by an insensitive machine who could care less about her preference to speed or depth. But it's a distraction to the torment.

She then feels gravity shift again, and the shocks continue, never changing in their abruptness or pain. The pain stops, after a week of endless shocks, and they're suddenly turned off. The microphone is opened, revealing the voice of Jason, and a temperate Collector Doctor. The Doctor recommends an immediate evacuation, considering that she's been encased for too long, but her owner demands an additional six months. She's not only terrified, but furious, shocked, and unbelievably intrigued as to why. The Doctor debates for a bit longer, before finally taking some scans and discovering she's still fully conscious. He's amazed, having been doing chambers for decades, he's ecstatic to see that an owner has finally uncovered the correct balance for continuous consciousness, and consistent stimulation and torment.

A clear breakthrough, the owner then moves onto to show the affectivity of the shocking mechanism, and the Doctor is shocked. The Doctor exits, and she soon hears a whisper from her owner. He claims that it'll all be worth it, that he could have her in there for years, decades, a century, and that the chamber will keep her immortal, and young. She hasn't slept a wink since she was snatched that night, and has now leapt into a state of conscious irrationality, fueled by nightmares and pleasure unequal to anything she could imagine... but she feels alive, a burning river inside is revealed as she feels purely alive.

The tormenting pleasure continues, the worms multiply, eventually cramming against the edges of the chamber, dissolving at the end of their lives. They apparently release their harvested fluids into a container that's gathered weekly. Now, our captive has grown ignorant of their constant invasions, and has grown to confront her nightmares head on, accepting her imminent simulated violation. The shocks have now been constant, and she's learned to use them to her advantage, allowing the pain to fight off sleep deprivation. Her chamber has become home, a horrifying home, one that she still dreads, but has now adapted to. Nearly 8 months have passed, she's been in the chamber for over a year now. She looks forward to the camera openings of her owner and his escapades, he even talks to her like old times. The Collectors check on her every week, and when doing so, the pleasure is magnified as the computer double checks each system in place. The feeding tube has now stayed in place throughout the last 8 months, a protocol her owner demanded. Even when nutrients aren't being given, she's still subject to the tube.

Today comes another shift in gravity. While she awaited dreadfully those rumored six months, she's now come to a point of contentment. Her only desire is to leave, but she's content to stay if that's what Jason wants. A shift in gravity is a mere occurrence for her, and she quickly goes back to focusing on the torment of the never-ending day.

Hours pass, and she suddenly feels everything stop. The tubes is brought back and her throat now free for the first time in what has seemed forever. The worms are now releasing from her skin and inner orifices. She feels relieved for the first time in over a year. The thick saliva-like fluid, now at the consistency of syrup, is being drained slowly from her chamber. And she's suddenly asleep... finally.

She awakes, inside a rehabilitation pod again, feeling the same healing fluid soak her every surface, healing what a year of encasement did to her. Ironically, her body feels younger, her sex-drive more rampant, her breasts more ample, her skin smoother, lacking any wrinkles. But the healing fluid seems to finalize all these changes. It takes the best of what the chamber did, and makes those changes permanent, unwavering, and real. She passes out again.

She awakes, finding her now clothed body in a white bed, with white sheets and a thick white blanket. Her owner plays with her hand, ogling at the smoothness and lack of age. She opens her mouth to talk, but he places his hand over her mouth, telling her to wait until the doctor says so. She's been asleep for a week, and he's waited for to awake the entire time. For the first time in over a year they talk, she's angry at first, but suddenly, she cares too much to get mad, and finds herself justifying his reasons before he can. She's been called the key to encasement by local staff, elites come to look at her just for the novelty. Jason declares "Claire, I want to make sure that every woman I slept with while you were in that chamber is dealt with."

He wants it to be fair, and he wants her to choose. It's regular, and overtly accepted for owners to sleep with whomever they want; Jason knows however, that Claire needs to feel human again, she needs to avenge something, and why not make it her friends who slept with her man while she hung on that wall and watched.

She gladly accepted, and when she was released, the two went home and made love for weeks. She still looked her age, not being transformed back into her young self. But her body was pure, perfected, and had the energy of a teenage sex drive. Her breasts smelt better, as did her feet. Her body produced intoxicating pheromones that made Jason mad for her. Her legs were soft, her ass an ever outstanding foundation, and her opening now ever-tight and young, impossible to ruin. She fell in love with him all over again, and he never stopped adoring her.

They talked endlessly, only sleeping for more energy to then make love again. When those weeks began to slow down, and they were able to catch their breath, she asked about the encasements. How many women there were, who made them, and so on. He only explained that most women could spend a month at most in an encasement before needing to be evacuated. They would last a few hours, days, or at most a week before going unconscious.

But Claire... Jason had made sure she was taken care of well. He came up with a system of procedures that kept the encased captive alive, stimulated, and conscious for longer periods of time. His theory proved so well with her, that the encasements could keep captives for a theoretically infinite amount of time, and be immortalized through the process. In short, she was a brutal, maniacal experiment, that paid off, and now, they could live the life of kings, having the resources to do whatever they wanted.

She told him that she'd been thinking about what he said at the hospital, what she could do to avenge her time. She told Jason that she didn't want vengeance, or justice, she just wanted to finally delve into the dark desires of her mind and his and do something evil, something lustful. She wanted to enjoy everyday knowing that someone else was living in an absolute hell for her passive amusement.

"Jason... I want every one of my friends that you slept with, all those women who know me, and who watched me hang there while you fucked them tirelessly. I want them to prove your theory. I want them to prove the endlessness of time that's capable with your chambers."

He smiled, and they fucked passionately for the day. When he recovered, she was asleep, and he couldn't have been more turned on, more in love, and more excited to have his queen matriarch delve into the evil designs with him. Another kiss of her foot, and he set off to make things right.

-

Epilogue:

Claire walks down the hallway of her mansion in the snowy mountains of Alaska. A massive underground facility is where she spends her days, experimenting, and enjoying the faces of terrified females that she and Jason bought. He lays in bed, exhausted from another ravaging night of indulgent and she drags her fingers across the ten cold dark metal chambers that line the wall of their estate. Her former friends now captives in her home, their chambers a even greater nightmare than hers. She's never opened their cameras, she won't give them the pleasure. Due to Jason's breakthroughs, he's gotten medication that keeps him immortal, though he's nearing his mid-thirties. Claire has maintained her magnificent form since the chamber, and has never needed another dose. She often goes back to that year in the chamber and wonders how it would be, knowing full well your unending life would be in that thing.

She looks to the beautiful form of the woman who slept with Jason over a decade ago, and runs her fingers in-between the large metal breasts. Jason's head and face once slept there, for many nights, and now, she'll be encased in a chamber decades, centuries. As Jason's theory proves more correct by the day, so does Claire's satisfaction in knowing that she's gotten what she's wanted, and that her captive friends are living testaments to her endurance on her wall.

She continues to walk down her hall, going down the stairs, into the the large facility beneath their home, delving into every dark desire she could dream of and being completely fulfilled. "Yes Jason. It was worth it in the end."