The rings that Blanca had clipped on to Missouri’s thumbs several weeks ago could be removed, but only with a special saw. Perhaps it was a testament to the mental conditioning that Missouri had been subjected to for the past six months, but she never even asked to take them off. Blanca considered that it made sense. One of the main goals of the conditioning was for Missouri to develop an unwavering trust in Blanca.

Missouri’s nipple rings were also a permanent fixture. Originally, Blanca suggested that they should be worn at all times so that the piercings could heal appropriately. By now, the piercings had healed and the rings remained. Missouri did not just accept that they were part of her now, she actually seemed to love them. There had been no requests for bolt cutters.

Correspondingly, with the high tech rings in place, Blanca knew at any time the precise distance between Missouri’s thumbs and nipples. Controlling the volume and pitch of musical instruments was a fun use of the sensor rings. But, Blanca could think of a large number of other devices that could be controlled. And she had already built rings for Missouri’s big toes and a collection more to be used for piercings. They were waiting for an appropriate occasion to attach them to Missouri.

Currently, Missouri knelt on a large pillow on the floor of their bedroom. She was naked, her back erect and her arms locked straight - hands gripping her knees. A muffled buzzing sound came from a bullet vibrator buried between her legs. She sat trembling with her eyes closed in concentration.

Missouri was playing a game and the rules were fairly simple. She had to kneel for an hour with her hands on her knees. However, with her hands in that position, the vibrator inside her sex would produce a powerful buzz driving her towards orgasm. Missouri’s challenge was to NOT orgasm. Blanca had forbidden it. 

If she got too close to the edge, Missouri could move her hands to hold her breasts, thus, bringing her thumb rings close to her nipple rings. The shorter distance caused the controller on the vibrator to  reduce the intensity of the vibrations. However, a clock was tracking the amount of time her hands were not firmly gripping her knees. After an hour “punishments” would be applied for any mistaken orgasms and any amount of time over a threshold in which her hands were not placed on her knees.

As Missouri sat trembling, concentrating on their game. Blanca was logged into a chat client role-playing the exact same game with their online friend “Shavanna”.

SHAVANNA: It’s been 40 minutes, my lusty little slut. How many minutes have you been out of position, so far?

It had actually been less than forty minutes since FremontGirl and Shavanna had begun the game. They were only role playing after all. The actual passage of time was immaterial.

Missouri, on the other hand, had only been in position for about fifteen minutes. She had held on to her knees quite well for the first eight minutes, but now she could barely hold position for a minute, before grasping her breasts in relief for ten to fifteen seconds.

Obviously, Blanca was currently doing the typing for FreemontGirl.

FreemontGirl: Oh, god, Mistress, I’m such a horny slut. I’ve already exceeded five minutes out of position. But… I’m weak! I have to orgasm. I’m drowning in arousal! Please let me cum!

SHAVANNA: Your training is not showing any improvement. Even with my paddle as a punishment. Maybe you are an irredeemable slut.

FreemontGirl: Trying my best… (mooaann!!)

SHAVANNA: Times up, slut! Bend over the bed and thank me for each strike of my paddle.

FreemontGirl: (My arousal is dripping down my thighs.) I’m ready, Mistress.

Five minutes later SHAVANNA and FreemontGirl were wrapping up their role-playing scene while Missouri continued to struggle with the loud buzzing inside her crotch. She still had more than thirty minutes to endure and had only been in position for just under twenty three minutes.

SHAVANNA: Hey babe, I saw a blog post on the web site for those chastity belt makers I was telling you about. The Love Trust Chastity Company. Apparently, they have an employee in their marketing division that is paid to wear their products. She has been wearing their One Love Chastity Belt for five years nonstop now!

FreemontGirl: Wow! No way! Five years!!

SHAVANNA: Apparently, a number of users on their forum claim to have worn the belt for more than three years.

FremontGirl: No orgasms?

SHAVANNA: The keyholders can allow belt driven orgasms, I think.

FreemontGirl: Gah! I don’t know if I could function in the real world…

SHAVANNA: Well, if you ever want to give it a try, I’m willing to go 50/50. Let me know!

FreemontGirl: (shivering in fear) ok…

Blanca, of course, had been following the company’s blog. She already knew about the company’s special product tester. Blanca had already submitted the order for the top-of-the-line belt for  Missouri. The belt had been built and delivered to Blanca’s office at VerdeCore. She and Lindsay were making some modifications to the electronics. The belt was just about ready for Missouri wear.

After logging off the chat application, Blanca bent down and kissed Missouri on the top of her head. Her forehead was damp with perspiration. “Just ten more minutes,” Blanca said. “Wow! You are more of a horny slut than we pretend to be online!”

Missouri laughed, quickly moving her hands to her breasts. “Uh… mmm… uh… you’re breaking my concentration… too close…” She went through a short routine of controlled breathing then slowly lowered her hands back to her knees and the intensity of the buzzing rose again.

Blanca laughed, “I’ll go get the paddle ready.”

“Gahh!!” Missouri’s hands shot back up to her breasts again.

Soon the computer sounded an alarm and the sound of buzzing from Missouri’s crotch dissipated. Missouri slouched on her pillow, her head bent forward. She was breathing like she had just finished an aerobic workout. 

Blanca stepped up behind her and kissed her on the head. “Wow! You did badly. Ha ha! No worries, love,” she said. “I happen to like owning a hopelessly horny slut like you.”

Missouri raised her head a little. “You… you’re not going to paddle me?”

“Why would I want to bruise your beautiful little tush, love?” Blanca asked. “I’m not going to paddle you.”

Missouri looked back down at the floor for a few moments, continuing to recover.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Missouri said, quietly. “I mean… if you felt like you wanted to…”

Blanca smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind, love.”

“I might like it a little,” Missouri said quietly. “I mean, if you’d like it.”

Blanca reached her hand out. “I have a different punishment for you tonight.”

Missouri took Blanca’s hand and let her help her rise from the floor. Soon she was on her back on the bed. Blanca was wrapping a leather cuff around her right ankle and pulling it towards an anchoring point at the corner of the bed.

“I closed my account on that freelance artist website today,” Missouri said. “It’s kind of a relief.”

Blanca was tying off Missouri’s left ankle to the opposite corner. “Awesome! There’s no need to do things that you don’t enjoy anymore, love. VerdeCore is going to pay you a lot of money for using your likeness for our gynoids.” She climbed on the bed next to Missouri and kissed her. “You’ll get a chunk of change for every unit they sell.”

Blanca pulled Missouri’s left arm towards the anchor attached to that side of the head board and tightened the strap around her wrist. “What do you think you want to do with all your free time?”

Missouri bit her lip smiling, “Make music… make love to you… draw… masturbate… fuck you…”

Blanca laughed as she climbed over Missouri, gently pulling her right arm towards the final anchor on the head board. “In that order?”

“Whatever order you want, Blanca,” Missouri smiled, dreamily. “Whatever you want me to do.”

Blanca stood up and walked back over to the computer. “Well… right now, I think you owe me a punishment.”

Missouri sucked in a deep breath, still smiling. “Uh oh!”

“We’re going to play the same game we just played again…” Blanca said. “One hour with the vibrator on full whenever your hands are not touching your breasts.”

Blanca clicked a button and the muffled buzz of the vibrator slowly whirred to life. Missouri let out a moan and automatically tried to reach for her breasts only for her hands to quickly jerk against the limits of the restraints.

“Because I am such a benevolent mistress, this time there will be no punishments for accidentally having an orgasm,” Blanca said. “In fact, have as many as you want!”

Missouri’s hips bucked and her body writhed in arousal. “Mmmm…”



Blanca smiled at Missouri’s predicament, picked up a tablet device, and left the room to go and search the internet to buy a good quality paddle.

<>--+-

Several days later, while Blanca was at work, Missouri was entertaining herself by drawing whatever came to her mind. Or, perhaps, she was trying to draw without using her conscious mind - letting the pencil go where it wanted. 

She sat at her drawing table wearing nothing more than a strappy black sundress with glowing lava orange splotches. A fairly sturdy metal chain trailed from underneath the hem of her dress, winding randomly across the floor to the ring mounted at the base of the bed. Earlier in the morning, Blanca had used a padlock to secure the tether to Missouri’s buttplug. Of course, for safety, Missouri could text Blanca at any time to shrink the bulb inside Missouri and allow her to free herself.

Missouri’s eyes would close and she would sit extremely still for a minute or two, then she would open her eyes and let her pencil make more markings on the sketch pad.

“I drift in the dark, and though there’s no ground beneath me, I still feel the ache of falling.” Missouri says out loud - telling herself a story. “The void has no shape, no edge, nothing solid to press against, and I am nothing more than a trembling thought, unmoored. My chest tightens, my breath tumbles fast.

“Then… warmth. A hand closes around my wrist. Firm. Certain. The instant I feel it, I know. It’s Blanca. I cannot see her, but the grip is hers; steady as stone, soft as skin, the only thing in this endless dark that feels real. The panic loosens its claws. My heart steadies. She has me.  

“And then another hand finds me—my other wrist—and then more, so many more. Blanca multiplied, flooding the void with herself. Arms and hands twine around my ankles, coil around my waist, slip into my hair, stroke the length of my throat. Each grasp pins me gently in place, like a ribbon binding a gift. The more she holds me, the more I yield; no longer lost, no longer untethered.

“Every touch says the same thing: You are mine, and you will not drift away. I feel it in the press at my thighs, in the tug at my hair, in the cradle of hands at my ribs. I am bound on every side—restrained, secured, claimed—and the anxious flutter inside me collapses into something soft, something molten.

“In the dark, there is no past, no floor, no sky. There is only Blanca’s touch, multiplied into infinity, a net of love knotted strong around me. And with every knot, every clasp of her endless, anchoring arms, I know I am safe.”

Missouri stopped speaking, her eyes closed. She seemed to waver a little rocking back and forth in her seat. Slowly she opened her eyes as though just awakening from a nap. She looked down at the drawing as though seeing it for the first time.

“Fuck!” Missouri frowns. “I gave myself 6 fingers. Stupid! I hate drawing hands!”

Suddenly the computer made a sound. Someone wanted to chat. Missouri activated the screen. It was Shavanna. Missouri bit her lip and thought for a moment. If she chatted with Shavanna as FreemontGirl when Blanca wasn’t around would that be like cheating on Blanca?

The chat application made another persistent beeping sound.

Missouri didn’t really want to chat with Shavanna. Not by herself at least. What if she did something totally out of character and exposed to Shavanna that FremontGirl was actually two women? What if the camera was activated somehow and Shavanna could see Missouri? What if she accidentally dragged a photo into the chat application? Generally, Blanca would be standing over her shoulder if she was typing, helping her think of what to say.

The computer dinged again.

“Be a big girl, Missouri,” Missouri said to herself. “I just have to tell her I’m busy.”

Missouri opened the chat application.

FremontGirl: Hello! I’m busy!

SHAVANNA: Wait! Missouri! 

Missouri froze. How the fuck did Shavanna know her real name?

SHAVANNA: It’s me! It’s Blanca!

Shavanna is Blanca? That could not be true. 

SHAVANNA: You need to listen to what I say! I’m the real Blanca! You are living with a gynoid version of me!

FremontGirl: I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong person…

SHAVANNA: Lindsay has me locked in a cell in the basement of VerdeCore. I’ve been here for over six months, I think. She’s been making me do things. Making me tell her things about you. Building mental models of you.

FremontGirl: I have to get on a meeting right now.

Missouri couldn’t think of what else to type. She was shaking with fear.

SHAVANNA: I wish I could tell you to get away from the townhouse… from your Blanca… but I think it’s too late. The main thing is… DON’T PUT ON THE CHASTITY BELT!!!

<SHAVANNA has left the chat>

Missouri stood staring at the computer screen. Even after the screen saver turned on and the monitor went dark, she was standing, staring and shaking. Eventually, she climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up over her head.

<>--+-

Blanca arrived home that evening to find Missouri huddled under the covers in bed.

“Are you cold? Are you feeling sick?” Blanca asked, suddenly concerned.

Missouri pulled the blankets back from her head a little. “I think… I think someone maybe hacked our computer.” The way she phrased the statement it sounded more like a question.

Blanca stepped over to the machine and the screen lit up. “Why do you think that, babe?”

“Someone started a chat with me,” Missouri said, slowly sitting up in bed. “It said it was Shavanna, and I was trying to tell her I… or FreemontGirl, that is… was busy and to chat later, but then she called me Missouri.”

Blanca’s face hardened with a look of concern. She began opening the chat application. “Go on. What did she say?”

“She said that you weren’t you,” Missouri continued. “And that you were locked in a cell at VerdeCore with Lindsay… And that you were a gynoid version of you…”

Blanca typed something more. “I don’t see a record of any conversations today in the logs.”

Missouri sat quietly in bed, obviously pensive about the whole situation. “Well… I did.”

Blanca opened a terminal window and began typing some cryptic commands. “Could you have been dreaming? I’m confused. A gynoid version of me? What else did she say?”

“I’m pretty sure I was awake,” Missouri said. “I can’t remember what else she said.”

“I don’t see any network traffic in the logs,” Blanca continued.

“Oh! She said I shouldn’t wear a chastity belt, or something about that,” Missouri said.

Blanca froze for a second. 

“I mean,” Missouri continued. “I’m sure I was awake. I was drawing…”



Blanca turned to Missouri. “Hey, babe, look at me. You know I’m not a gynoid, right? That’s just crazy.”

Missouri nodded.

Blanca climbed up onto the bed and hugged Missouri. She could feel Missouri’s heart beating and she was trembling. “Shhh… It’s okay, babe. I’m here now. I believe that something happened to scare you. I’ll take care of you.”

“Yeah,” Missouri said, looking into her lover’s eyes. “It was just crazy. I was drawing and the computer made a sound…”

“It’s okay, babe. We’ll go into the office tomorrow and get the machine scanned with my super hacker sleuth tools,” Blanca said, smiling. “Hey… What were you drawing?”

Missouri pointed over to the sketch pad.

“Oh my god, Missouri! This is an awesome drawing!”

“Yeah, except I fucked up one of my hands. I gave myself six fingers.”

Blanca stared at the drawing for a second. “Hm… I didn’t even notice…”