Becoming a monkey girl (2)

I like writing sequels. I like expanding on this weird little sci fi world that seems to be developing. The only problem I have is the worry that the sequel won't stand up to the original.

But here's hoping.

Maili's New Life

I open my eyes and stretch. My fingers curled, my foot fingers curled, and my tail stretched out. I smiled. It wasn't a dream. It's not a dream.

The room is warm and well lit, though I can't see any source of light. There are bars set in front of the walls and on the ceiling, bars there for me to play on. And behind the bars are mirrors. I can see myself, and only myself. No matter which way I turn, all that looks back at me is a monkey girl behind bars.

Then the mirrors turn clear, and I can see where the light comes from. Sunlight shining through a window. Sunlight that outlines a figure in a chair. I can't make out his features. He's big though. Strong looking.

“Good morning Maili,” he says.

I open my mouth and try to return the salutation, but no sound comes out. Then I remember.

“It's okay,” he says. “You'll get used to it soon. You don't need to talk. Just nod or shake your head, okay? Nod if you understand.”

I nod.

“Good girl.” He uncrosses his legs, then crosses the other one over top. “You're in your display cage right now. We can take the bars out if you like. I only left them in so you could climb on them. Do you like to climb on the bars?”

I nod, crawl up the wall and hang by my feet, enjoying the pull of gravity. I let my arms hang free, and swing a little bit.

“We can leave the bars, then,” he says. “The glass is one way mirror. Do you know what that means? It means that when I turn them on,” the room vanishes and the mirrors reappear. I look at myself hanging there, thinking how strange it was that my body still curved the way it did, that even hairy I could make out my figure.

Then, just as I was starting to enjoy the image, the mirrors vanish again, and I see my master sitting in his chair. “While they're on, you can't see out. But we can see in. That's what it means. One way glass.

“There's another room for you too,” he says. “It has a toilet and a spray nozzle for showering. A slab of metal with a blanket for sleeping.”

I swung back and forth and smiled at him.

“Do you remember what I told you about tonight?”

I nod.

“Good,” he says. “Before we get to that, we need to work out a few things. I need you to be able to communicate, at least a little. We still need to find your limits. We need to know how much pain you can take, how much you can handle. It'll change over time. I'm sure your pain threshold will rise. Do you know what that means?”

I shake my head.

“It means you'll be able to take more and more pain before giving up. Now, get down on the floor.”

I shake my head again.

He sighs.

“Do it, Maili.”

I shake my head again.

Then a jolt of pain lances through my body, my muscles clench and unclench, and I fall to the floor, landing hard. There's a grunt, but no other sound comes from me. “You have to do what I say, Maili,” he says. “Have you forgotten the collar already?”

He stands up, and then there's another jolt of pain. This one last longer, and it feels like my muscles are tearing against themselves, trying to rip their way free of my bones. I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. No noise.

I whimper on the floor, and I hear something unlock. A door opens, and he hooks something to my collar.

“Come on,” he says, giving it a tug, practically dragging me across the room. When my arms and legs begin to listen to me again, I find that I move plenty fast using my hands and feet together.

“I hope you don't keep making me do that,” he says. “I don't like using the collar. When you're in pain, and I've caused it, I want it to be pain that we both enjoy. When you make me hurt you, just for training, it cheapens the pain we can play with together. Do you understand?”

I nod. It's good I can't talk. I'm not sure I could.

We move into another room. Concrete floors. There's a ring on the floor. He runs my leash through the ring, through the collar, and back to the ring. My head can't go any more than a foot or two off the floor. Then he puts a wide leather strap under my stomach, lifting me up off the ground. I smile. I like being suspended.

Then he puts a white cloth in front of me. “Take this in your tail,” he says. “If things get too bad, just let go. Can you do that?”

I reach around with my tail, much less clumsy with it than I would have expected. I grab the cloth.

“Now let it go.”

I do. He hands it back to me. “Good girl.”

I smile without teeth.

“You just relax there,” he says. “I'm going to bring in some friends, and we're going to do our first experiment.” He ruffles a hand through my hair, and I realize that I still haven't seen his face. I try to look up at it, but he's out of my line of sight.

I hear him come back, and he's not alone. Sounds like five sets of feet. Maybe six.

“Do you remember the fantasies you told the doctor, Maili girl?”

I nod, slowly. I can feel the heat building in my face.

“It says here that you always wanted to be gang banged,” he says. “It says that you want to gulp down cum, that you want to be covered in it. It says you want to be used like a toy. It says here your exact words are that you want to be 'fucked hard and put away wet.' I like that.” He laughs. There are other laughs at that. I hear the sound of pages flipping. “It goes on,” he says. “You've got some interesting fantasies. Bukkake, ass to mouth,” he chuckles. “It goes on like that. Well. We don't have time for all that. Not tonight.”

The men start to spread out around me, and I feel hands in my hair. Hands on my wrists. Hands on my thighs, hands on my ankles. My legs spread open, and then I feel a gentle finger probe me, and I moan.

As my mouth opens, a cock slides in. I feel like I should know this cock. Like I will get to know it. This is his cock. This is master's cock. He laces his fingers through my hair and pushes himself deep. My gums rub together on his shaft, my tongue curling all the way around, twice. He moves in and out, and I find myself able to slide my tongue around his shaft at one pace, my gums there for him to fuck at another.

Another cock slides into me from behind, then something that feels like a cock, but is cold and rubbery, slides into my ass. I moan. Feet around me shift, and soon I have one in each hand. And one in each foot. Six cocks and a butt plug. All of my holes are filled, each of my hands jerking back and forth.

My moans aren't as loud as theirs. I worried my hands would be too rough. That they wouldn't feel good around a cock. But the men around me aren't complaining. By the sound of it, they're enjoying themselves.

“Oh, you guys have no idea.” My master moaned, his hands squeezing at my hair. “This is unlike any-- holy crap. That tongue is just-” he moans again. His body shakes, and I feel his cum starts to flow, blasting into my throat. I keep sucking, draining it, tasting his pleasure.

The others are moaning, the one behind me thrusting into me. It feels so good. So much better than I remember sex ever being.

My master taps my head. “Money well spent,” he says. He takes a deep breath, lets out a happy sound. “Guys, you've gotta try this. Come on. This is what the paper says she wants. It says she wants to have cock after cock after cock blast cum down her throat. Come on.”

One my one, my hands open up. One by one, a new cock comes into my mouth. One by one, I suck the cum out of them, enjoying the sounds of their pleasure as much as I enjoy the various tastes of their cum. I never realized how many different tastes cum has. I never-

I moan again, almost over the edge myself, my hands empty, my stomach filling with cock.

Then the one behind me slides out. It slides out, moves around, and I taste myself on his cock. I still taste him underneath, but my taste was above it, on top of it. I wanted to pull away. I didn't want to taste myself.

Then I felt another pressure against my pussy, larger than a cock, larger than anything that's ever been inside me. It's ribbed, but it feels like a traffic cone, pushing me open. Then it begins to vibrate.

And the pleasure builds up, the pleasure more intense than before, and I completely forget about the taste. I swallow my own juices, I suck him hard, like I'm trying to drain him dry. He moans, I moan, and orgasms crash over us both.

My master leaves me there with the vibrator in while everyone gets dressed. Time passes. I float on the winds of orgasm, moaning as more rips through my body.

Pleasure is like pain. Too much and you can't tell the difference. Ten minutes go by. Maybe twenty. He still doesn't come back. The vibrating never stops. Never slows. Never changes. Just a constant movement, a constant rubbing against nerves that are sharper than I remember them ever being, that are more raw than I could ever imagine them.

I'm sobbing, unsure if it's pleasure or pain, when my master finally comes back. He yanks the vibrator, and the butt plug, out at the same time. I try to scream, but without sound.

I hang there, whimpering, sobbing, moaning, barely aware of the world around me.

“You've done well pet. I'm proud of you.” He rubs my head again, and just the sensation of the gentle touch spikes through my body.

“Tomorrow, we'll explore pain. We'll see how far we can push you.

“But not now. I can tell you're tired. Now it's time to sleep.”

I smile at him.

“Master says go to sleep.”

 

I wonder what comes next.