I’ve posted excerpts from two rather mild books. This is an excerpt from something quite a bit different. The Needle and the Dungeon was one of the very first novels I wrote back in 1998, and it spins together near-future science fiction with some rather bizarre BDSM themes. The book is set in San Francisco in the late 21st century and tells the story of a young woman named Ashley MacMillan, who discovers a dark and twisted world of virtual reality sex. Through it, she explores a side of herself she barely understands.
Warning: This one is not for the faint of heart.
As she had the day before, she came to as if she had fainted. She opened her eyes.
She was kneeling, and her arms were held above her. She was in a dark, dungeon-like room of damp, bare stone, lit by burning torches. Chains hung from the walls around her, and a table of unidentifiable instruments stood across the room. An ironbound wooden door was the only visible exit.
She looked down at herself and gasped. She wore a tight leather corset that supported her breasts, thrusting them forward. She had large gold rings through her nipples, and, she realized, her nose, tongue, navel, clitoris, and labia. She was pierced as thoroughly had Tami had been. A gold chain hung from each nipple ring, and ran down to the other rings below. The chains were gathered up and linked to a larger chain that led out away from her, where it was locked to a rough iron eyebolt in the floor. If I tried to stand up I would rip all the rings out, she thought.
Her pubic hair was gone, and it felt as if it had been plucked out hair by hair. She was nearly naked below the waist. Leather garter straps hung down to her thighs, where she wore a lacy pair of silk stockings. She couldn’t see behind her, but she felt tight high-heeled shoes on her feet.
She looked up, and realized for the first time that she wore a leather facemask. Her mouth, eyes, and nose were exposed, but the rest of her head was encased in leather. A thick rubber gag was between her teeth. Her hair felt like it had been gathered into a hole out the back of the mask. She tried to turn her head but couldn’t. She looked down, and saw gold chains leading from her chin to the shoulder straps of the corset. As she moved her head, she felt her hair brushing against the tops of her buttocks. It was much longer than it was normally, even longer than it had been in the mermaid sequence.
She looked up again and saw that her hands had been strapped into leather bracers, holding them together palm-to-palm. A chain was attached to the front, and led up to a hook in the ceiling, then to another hook on the wall.
Her heart thumped in her chest. She whimpered in fear. Harder, she thought. I asked for harder, didn’t I? This is what I get for being greedy.
A loud creak split the air, and the door opened. A huge, muscle-bound man entered the room. He was dressed head to foot in studded black leather. A leather codpiece was the only apparent opening in the suit besides his eyes. Could he be the doctor? No, he said it was an autoerotic sequence. It’s just the program. Somehow that scared her even more.
He walked over and glared at her. She wanted to beg for mercy, but the gag reduced her cries to unintelligible moans.
He slapped her.
He bent down and unlocked the chain from her piercings, then pulled down the chain from the ceiling. He jerked the piercing chain, and pain shot through her.
She stumbled to her feet, and almost lost her balance. Her shoes were ridiculous! The heels had to be six inches high. She was almost walking tip-toe.
He turned her around, and she saw a pair of wooden poles behind her. They ran from the floor to the ceiling, and another pole was suspended between them. He led her behind the poles, then faced her back to the front of the room. He adjusted the crossbar until it was about the height of her hips, and pushed her forward.
“Lean against that.”
She tried, almost losing her balance again. He walked around front and hooked her wrist chain to the ceiling. Then he took the piercing chain and ran it through another eyebolt on the floor. He pulled it taut, stretching out her piercings. The lower chains were pressed against the crossbar, and the pain was the worst there. She cried out, trying to lean forward as far as she could to reduce the tension. When she was as far out as she could get, he locked the chain to the eyebolt.
He walked around behind her.
“Spread your legs.”
She tried, but he slapped her buttocks hard.
She spread them as far as she could get, and felt him locking her ankles to the poles. He readjusted the crossbar, then unclipped the chains on her clitoris and labia, running them down under the bar. He stretched them out again and attached them to the larger chain.
He walked around behind her, and she heard nothing for a moment or two.
There was a loud crack, and an explosion of pain on her buttocks. She cried out again, whimpering. He struck again, then again, and again. She quickly lost count, and her buttocks seemed to be aflame. He was paddling her with a rough wooden board, and her skin was soon so sensitive that she could feel the grain on the wood with each strike. Her resolve—what remained of it—broke, and she began sobbing out loud, gasping with the intensity of the pain. Tears ran down her cheeks. She thought she had to be bleeding by now, her buttocks were so swollen and inflamed.
Yet, somehow, through the fog of her agony, through the endless paddling of her buttocks, she realized a heat was building inside her. She was getting wet. Aroused. The taut flesh of her piercings was growing hotter each time she pulled back with the rebound from his blows.
Just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The only sounds were her sobbing and her gasps for breath. He walked around behind her, and stared at her. His eyes were like the Doctor’s. But this man was much larger.
He unhooked the crossbar and let her swing forward, releasing the tension on her piercings. The pain faded, replaced by a dull, hot throbbing. She sagged, hanging from the chain at her wrists, ankles still locked to the poles, and tried to catch her breath. The throbbing increased, and she realized she was about to come. The orgasm pulsed through her, making her oversensitized piercings sting. She hung limply, feeling her body shudder. It wasn’t a big one, like the ones the day before, but it was good enough.
He was pulling at the wrist chain.
“Stand up again.”
She tried to right herself, standing back up between the poles. He unhooked the wrist chain from the ceiling, latching it to another hook directly above her.
“I’m doing to put this inside you. Don’t let it fall, or I will be very upset.”
He held up a rubber dildo. A lead weight hung from the end. He reached down and slid it inside her. Almost immediately, she felt it begin to pulsate and squirm. She tried to tighten herself and hold it.
He looked up from the bot he was working on, and glanced over at Ashley. Her bot was holding her arms high and legs wide. Sweat dripped off her body.
“Kaitlyn Crosby is at the front door. Shall I let her in?”
He looked over at the monitor. Kaitlyn was another street kid like Tami. She was probably nineteen. Five-two, maybe, dressed in a big olive green army jacket. Long chestnut brown hair and a ring through one nostril. Pretty. She had first come to the lab a few months before, and came back every few weeks.
“Yeah. Show her back.”
Kaitlyn entered the lab a minute or two later.
She glanced over at Ashley, and her eyes widened a little.
“Her name’s Ashley. She’s a rich kid. Showed up yesterday. She’s in Dungeon 12. Like to join her?”
The color drained out of Kaitlyn’s face. The levels of the Dungeon ran from one to fifteen. She had never been higher than level nine.
“Twelve? She’s that far up?”
“She asked for hard.”
Kaitlyn bit her lip. She had come here for the Dungeon, actually, but had spent a week psyching herself up for level 10. The idea of jumping to level 12 made her legs weak. But she didn’t want to chicken out in front of him.
“Okay. I guess so.”
“Take the bot in the corner. This one is out of commission.”
The terror was returning. The pulsating dildo inside her was getting Ashley very hot and wet, and she could feel it slipping out of her, millimeter by millimeter. She tried to tighten herself, but she was too inexperienced, too weak to give it much of a grip. It was going to fall out, and she didn’t want to think what would happen when it did.
The man had been watching her, but suddenly turned and left the room. Ashley tried to draw her legs together, maybe to use her thighs to hold the dildo in, but her feet were locked too widely apart.
The man returned to the room, leading a brown-haired girl on a leash. She looked a little older than Ashley, but was much shorter. The man locked her hands together in a wrist strap like Ashley wore, and pulled her up, locking her to the ceiling. The girl wore a similar face mask, but beyond that wore only a strange harness, a complicated series of leather straps crisscrossing her torso. Like Ashley, she was pierced thoroughly, and the man locked her piercing chain to the floor. She looked over at Ashley for the first time, eyes full of fear at the welts on Ashley’s body, and the obvious trauma she had been through.
Could this be another girl like Tami? No. Jasmine said there was no one else in the building. It must be part of the program, she thought.
The man fetched a narrow wooden strap, and began lashing the girl’s buttocks mercilessly. She could see the angry welts rising on her skin, and soon her buttocks were a swollen mass of flesh, bright red. But the girl seemed to take it better, not crying out although she clearly wanted to. Tears were running down her face now.
Ashley had forgotten the dildo. In terror, she realized it was falling out. She attempted one final squeeze, but it fell to the floor with a clatter.
The man turned to her, enraged.
“Why you miserable little slut! Can’t you hold anything in that worthless cunt without getting so wet that it falls out?”
He threw down the strap he had been thrashing the other girl with, and fetched another dildo from the table. In horror, Ashley could see that this one was at least twice the size of the first one. He opened a black jar on the table, and dipped his fingers into it. The jar contained some clear gelatinous goo, which he spread thickly over the dildo.
“Let’s see if you can hold this one. I didn’t stop to think that that little twat of yours must have so much mileage on it that you can’t hold anything smaller.”
He shoved the dildo up inside her, and pain shot through her groin. Oh God, it was huge! But she could definitely hold it in. It was so big the natural tension of her flesh was enough to keep it in place.
The man returned to tormenting the other girl. He pulled a riding crop off the wall, and began smacking her at different points on her body, her thighs, her breasts, between her legs. The girl whimpered quietly but took it.
Ashley was growing hotter as she watched. Something was burning inside her, and she realized it was the goop he had put on the dildo. It was getting hotter, almost painful now. She twitched, moaning. She was on fire. In a minute or two it was so bad she began shaking herself, trying to eject the dildo. She didn’t care what he would do. Nothing could be worse than this.
The man had stopped strapping the other girl, and had led her over in front of Ashley. He reached down and whipped out the dildo. Some of the pain subsided, leaving only a tremendous heat behind.
He jerked on the girl’s leash, pulling her between Ashley’s legs. She began dutifully licking Ashley’s swollen, supersensitized flesh.
Ashley gasped, throwing her head back. This was too much. Her body had been tormented so thoroughly, every nerve ending screaming in agony, that she felt every tiny movement of the girl’s tongue, could feel the tiny buds on it. The orgasm was rising in her like an impending supernova, twice the size of the one the day before, the one she had thought was impossibly huge.
Pain exploded across her cheek. The man had slapped her.
“You are unbelievable! Do you really think you are allowed to come without my permission?”
Ashley whimpered, gritting her teeth. He had to let her come. He had to!
“Hold yourself off until I say so. If you come before then, you will pay for it.”
She thrashed in her restraints, trying to fight the sensations, but the other girl stayed with her, not breaking her rhythm. She clenched her abdomen, then her buttocks, trying to force the impending climax back down. She couldn’t do it! She just couldn’t. It was going to happen whether she wanted it or not.
“Oh, all right,” he said. “Come if you want.”
She collapsed against her chains, and it burst forth. Her mind went blank, riding the whirlwind inside her.
The cover for The Needle and the Dungeon is in progress and is looking pretty awesome. I’ll release it as soon as it’s ready. [Update: There it is.]