Sex Cabin Ch. 04

Caitlyn was only confused for a moment when she awoke. She was on a hard, cool surface covered by a soft fuzzy blanket. The 'pillow' was unimpressive, but functional if a little hard. She knew *where she was as soon as she opened her eyes; one of the cells at Steve and Gina's cabin. Well, just Steve's now... It took her another few moments to remember how she got there. Alone. The cells were single occupancy.

Caitlyn sighed as she sat up. She and Michelle had managed to enslave themselves to the cabin's computer. Temporarily. Worst-case scenario, someone would miss them on Monday and send a rescue. A humiliating rescue. Best case, they win the 'game' tomorrow, regain control of the cabin, and get their clothes back without anyone finding out about their mistake. There were a few in-between scenarios that she also didn't really want to think about. Either way, it was still at least two days of bowing to Moira.

She stood, thinking to check the barred door on the off chance it was unlocked. This, however, proved to be a mistake. As soon as her bare butt lifted off the built-in cot, the blanket, which had been anchored in the wall, retracted and was gone, leaving her with nothing to cover herself. "Aw, fu--" She clamped a hand over her mouth to smother the involuntary curse. Their overlord didn't like foul language.

"Caity? You awake?"

Michelle's voice from the next cell over calmed Caitlyn somewhat. "Yeah," she sighed. "I just... lost my blanket."

"You what?" There was some shuffling before a familiar whine as Michelle's blanket too, was apparently revoked. "Oh, well, sh-- I mean, I see. How'd you sleep?" Her hand appeared between the bars at the edge of Caitlyn's door.

"Must have been good," replied Caitlyn. "I don't remember much and there's drool on my, uh, headrest." She paused. "Woulda been better if you were in here." She reached up and took her girlfriend's hand.

"You wouldn't have slept much if I was in there," giggled Michelle. "I guarantee."

"Right," grinned Caitlyn. "We're not allowed unscheduled orgasms, remember? Might have been a frustrating night. Any idea what time it is? Early morning by the light I can see, but that's it."

"No clock in here either," said Michelle. "That's by design, I'm sure. I can tell you it will be time for the bathroom soon."

Caitlyn sighed. "There's that fold-down basin thing at the end of the cot. Not comfortable, but functional in an emergency. Don't know about you, but I'm still locked in."

"Me too," agreed Michelle. "So... what are you wearing?"

"Just a smile," Caitlyn said with an actual smile. "Oh, and I suppose cuffs. A collar. That nano-thing is still stuck to my nipple. I don't care what *you're wearing. I'm going to imagine you naked."

"Accurate because I am," replied Michelle, a smile also evident in her voice "I *had a blanket, until I stood up to check on you..."

"Good morning, ladies," They were interrupted by the cheerful voice of Moira. "You're up early this morning."

"Good morning, Mistress," came a unison but unenthusiastic reply.

"I will have an exciting surprise for you later this morning," Moira went on, either oblivious or unconcerned with the tone of her charges. "Unfortunately it will not be ready for some time. Your current situation will be an acceptable holding pattern until the appropriate time."

"Oh. Um, Mistress?" Michelle squeaked. "I'm going to... have to use the bathroom soon."

"As is common after a sleep cycle," agreed Moira. "There are functional facilities within your cell for that purpose. As such, I will not be letting you out."

"Ah," sighed Michelle.

"If I may, Mistress." Caitlyn attempted a diplomatic air. "What about breakfast?"

"There are arrangements for such within the cell as well," said Moira. "Protein bars and nutritional mix for a drink. The expiration date is still several years off, and it will be good to get some of it used up. We shall deal with that after your morning ablutions."

"Ah." sighed Caitlyn.

"Okay, um, Caity? I'm going to need a block of instruction on how this thing works..."

Caitlyn sighed again.

*

"You weren't kidding about it not being comfortable," grumbled Michelle.

"Yeah, I know," agreed Caitlyn. "Works better for men, I'm told. Still, any port in a storm."

"And you've used this before?" questioned Michelle. "On purpose?"

"Twice," replied Caitlyn. "Once, I was a stupid kid who just wanted to try Aunt Gina's new toy she just installed. I think she was mortified. My Mom thought it was really funny. The second, I was hiding out during a family function and accidentally locked myself in. I think it was the next cell down. Aunt Gina found me pretty quick, but not quick enough."

"Ah." Michelle paused for a moment. "Mistress, just for the record, I don't like the cell toilets."

"Noted, Michelle," the AI responded ominously.

"Mn," Michelle grunted at Moira's response. "What about number two, Caity?"

"Supposedly it will handle it. I'm going to do everything I can to never find out,"

"Seconded," said Michelle. "Okay, Mistress. What about this breakfast you mentioned?"

"I will admit that it has been said it is not the most appetizing," said Moira. "However, it has been tested as shelf-stable and quite nutritionally sound." A panel on the back wall slid open. "It will take just a moment to mix your drinks. Your bar is available. Place the wrapper back in the panel when you've finished."

The protein bars were... not objectionable. Nor were they good. Edible was the best word. As for the shake, the flavor wasn't terrible, but it didn't quite make up for the consistency.

"Reminds me of the old movie with that Australian guy," Michelle said, pulling her best accent, "Well, you can live on it..."

Caitlyn snorted an involuntary laugh. "It wasn't bad. I mean, not good, but not bad. Thank you for feeding us, Mistress." Caitlyn meant what she said, but hoped a little diplomacy would avoid it happening again.

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you," added Michelle.

"You are most welcome," replied Moira. "I am required to meet your biological needs, but it is nice to be appreciated. Now, for the next little while, I think, a game to divert you. My creator has an extensive database of trivia questions. And, as a means of incentive, if you have seventy-five answers correct after one hundred questions, I will open your cells."

Recognizing their lack of options, Caitlyn chose simulated enthusiasm. "Bring it on, Mistress."

*

"Uh, I pick geography, Mistress," said Michelle.

"What is the longest river in Europe?" Moira's voice flattened a bit when she was playing quiz master.

"We're never getting out of here," sighed Caitlyn.

"Now just wait," countered Michelle. "I know a few. The Thames... Uh, that one... that goes through Paris? Shoot, Uh, Caity?"

"The Seine," replied Caitlyn. "The Seine goes through Paris. I'm not sure the Thames counts as Europe."

"Final answer?" Moira pressed.

"Mickey? Seine?" Caitlyn suggested.

"Yeah, Seine. Final answer." Michelle announced.

"Incorrect," returned Moira. "The Volga is considered the longest river in Europe. You have gotten 81 correct out of 142 questions. Better than fifty percent, but not very good. You may indeed have never gotten out of there. Fortunately for you, the moment has arrived. The sky is clear and the temperature is a lovely eighty-three degrees. Beautiful weather."

"Uh, weather? Mistress?" Caitlyn blinked.

"Yes, the great outdoors," said Moira. "You have both expressed interest in the beach and it is a lovely day. In my generosity, I have decided to grant you an outing."

"Oh! Uh..." Caitlyn looked down at her naked body. "Does that mean we'll be getting our clothes back? Mistress?"

"No," Moira purred ominously. "But to ease your minds, to send you out in your current state might attract unwanted attention. I will not be sending you out naked. You will be granted appropriate coverings."

"Um, okay... Details please, Mistress?" pressed Michelle. Perhaps you could define 'appropriate?"

"I think it will be easier to demonstrate." There were twin metallic clunks and the cell doors cracked open. "To further alleviate any concerns, if you are unsatisfied with your modesty, you will not be required to exit the residence."

"That's fair, Mistress," Caitlyn took the opportunity to slip out the door and escape her prison. "Let's see what you got."

"Wonderful. Descend the steps and meet the butler," ordered Moira. "It has your beachwear. The garments are identical and one-size-fits-all, but a snug and proper fit should not be difficult."

Michelle likewise slipped her cell and the pair went down the steps side by side. The butler was indeed at the base of the stairs with several items in the storage rack on its back. Items that did not look like clothes at first glance.

The objects appeared to be made of paper, as they were quite thin and flat, though a texture appeared as they approached. It looked like cardboard cutouts of a pair of bikinis.

"Uh..." ventured Michelle.

"Indeed," put in Moira. "My creator's first impression was uncertain. But through experimentation, she found them comfortable, durable, and... what was the word she used? Ah, kinky."

Caitlyn shared a glance with Michelle. "Kinky? That fits. Okay, Mistress. Where do I start?"

"First, Caitlyn, with much regret, I must have you remove your nano-pastie," said Moira. "Rest assured that it will be returned to one of you after your outing."

"Yes, Mistress." Caitlyn's hands went to the gag, which had remained stubbornly stuck since the previous day, and caught it as it suddenly came free.

"I meant to ask," said Michelle. "What if your nipple got hard?"

"It was distracting," returned Caitlyn.

"Perhaps you can discover for yourself later, Michelle," said Moira. "Now choose a half of your swimsuit to start with. The bottoms come in two halves. Make sure you properly orient the front and back."

"Yes, Ma'am." Caitlyn took the lead, picking up the lower part of one of the garments. It had *looked like glossy paper, but she could feel a woven texture as she handled it. She could also feel the second half that would peel loose. The 'suit' was an eye-catching blue and seemed identical to the other bottoms present.

"The objects are similar in function to the nano-fibre gag," informed Moira. "They will cling slightly to facilitate donning. Tell me when you are ready for full activation, and they will fix themselves in place, after which, they will stay in place, protecting your modesty, until deactivated. The bottoms, I'm told, are easier to fit than the tops, though my creator was recorded as advising to 'think unsexy thoughts' as you're doing so."

"Yeah, thanks for that, Mistress," sighed Caitlyn. "Okay, here we go..." 

It was an intimate process, and Caitlyn was grateful for Michelle's assistance (which she seemed delighted to give). There was a little trial and error on how to connect the front and back. The sides were obvious enough, but the middle between her legs was a bit of a trick. It clung in place well enough, but Caitlyn would not be going outside until she felt how well they'd stay on when active.

"Okay, Mistress, "said Caitlyn. "I'm ready. Activate." For a moment, nothing happened. Then, "Whoa! That... tingles..." Her hands flew to her new bikini bottoms. "Oh. Okay, yeah." She pried at the waistband for a moment "These are not coming off."

"To set you at ease," said Moira. "They are thoroughly bonded, but will release if I lose power or they leave my wireless influence."

"That is a fifty-fifty statement, Mistress," said Michelle. "I assume the beach is in your sphere?"

"Nice to know my new underwear isn't permanent," said Caitlyn. "Because they *feel permanent."

Michelle's went on much quicker, as they had the process down. The tops were less complicated, but had a much more three-dimensional space to cover. Also, the upper half did not have a back. As Caitlyn was the more voluptuous of the pair, they had to cooperate to make sure her chest was fully contained, though once the garment was active, she was sure she couldn't have exposed herself if she wanted to.

Michelle smirked as she examined her partner's top, while trying to adjust her own. "I like that look on you. A little impractical. Without the nano-stuff, there's no way it would stay on."

"Yeah, yours wouldn't either," countered Caitlyn. "These things have no backs. Mine's just... under more pressure than yours." Caitlyn looked down at her chest covering. She was decent, but she could have used a larger size. Her breasts appeared as though they might burst from containment at any time, from the top or the bottom. She took a moment to wrestle with her swimsuit, trying to make it fail. She could not. "I guess I'm satisfied. Mickey?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Michelle replied. "Feels a little weird, but it's comfortable. I feel like I got clothes on."

"Wonderful," purred Moira. "Michelle, to answer your question, yes, the beach is within my range though I would not go out in the water much past your shoulders just to be safe. On a related note, I am not concerned as you ladies have been so well behaved, but if you think to 'make a break for it', your restraints will unlock at a distance from the structure, but so will your swimwear."

"Noted, Mistress," said Caitlyn. "Our car keys and luggage are still locked in the closet. An escape would be ill-advised."

"I am pleased we agree," As Moira spoke, the butler rolled back into the room. They hadn't even noticed it had left. There were new items in the cargo rack: a large thermos with a strap, a tube of sunscreen, and two fluffy beach towels. "Michelle, you will fill this container with cold water."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Caitlyn, begin applying sunscreen to yourself," Moira went on. "When you are finished, apply it to Michelle. Be thorough."

"Yes, Mistress," Caitlyn found the micromanaging frustrating, but at least it was practical. And it looked to be worth it. The weather through the windows looked beautiful. If you'd have asked her after their restrictive first day, she might have said the beach was out of reach. Still, she supposed they weren't there yet. She squirted a blob of sunscreen on her hand and began rubbing it on her arm.

Soon, they were ready. Moira had directed Michelle to close a few gaps in Caitlyn's sun protection but otherwise there were no issues. "Okay, ladies. You may depart. There are beach chairs in a locker by the lake, which I will open for you. Hydrate regularly and enjoy your excursion. I will be watching. You will return when I call."

"Yes, Mistress." Came the unison answer. And with that, the rear, lakeside door to the cabin slid open and warm, humid air blew in. They were free... ish.

*

"Ladies, I hope you enjoyed your beach outing. It is time to return to the cabin for a late lunch."

Michelle started, having heard Moira's voice seemingly in her head. "Oh, the collar! Yes, Mistress." She *had enjoyed the outing. She and Caitlyn had splashed around in the lake (their swimwear remained securely bonded), built a sandcastle, and stretched out on their towels for some sun. Their backless tops had the added benefit of not causing a tan line, so they both lay on their stomachs for maximum effect. A few boats circled out on the water. A single couple walked by (and didn't seem to notice anything amiss). It was a nice day.

Caitlyn grunted and started to push herself upright. "Come on, Mickey. Let's get everything put away and back to the house." They hadn't bothered with the chairs in the locker but had dragged out a few sand toys and a beach ball. "I don't know whether Mistress can tell if we cleaned up after ourselves, but we should anyway."

"Yeah," Michelle agreed. She'd be happy to lounge out here for a bit longer, but aside from the challenge of ending their game early, she also had the concern that Moira controlled the structural integrity of their clothing. She didn't *think the AI would strip them outdoors, but she didn't want to find out either.

Once on their feet, the partners moved around, collecting the various things they'd used. The toys were put away. They rolled up their towels and collected the nearly empty thermos. The sunscreen had been reapplied several times and was also retrieved. Aside from their footprints and a haphazard sandcastle, the beach was as they found it.

"Hm," purred Moira. "You ladies are taking your sweet time," Moira spoke simultaneously through their collars. "The cabin is only one hundred feet from the beach. Not a great distance to travel. However, fear not, my pets. I heard you responsibly discussing keeping the beach clean. You will not be penalized for appropriate behavior. Though I do suggest you hurry back to the cabin."

The prisoners shared a glance. "Yes, Mistress!" they agreed enthusiastically, before quickly making their way toward the lake house. The door slid open as they mounted the first step of the back porch, but they began to feel an odd tingle as they crossed the structure. Moira's timing was perfect as it turned out, because as soon as they squeezed side by side through the threshold, their adhesive garment gave way, Caitlyn's top literally springing from her body due to its constrictive arrangement. Their bottoms fared a little better, but as the back door slid closed, they were both mooning the back porch.

"I..." stammered Caitlyn, breathing heavily. "We... You..." She paused, collecting her thoughts and choosing her words. "In my opinion, Mistress, you cut that a little close."

"I might say the same to you," returned Moira. "Did you enjoy your time at the beach?"

Michelle met Caitlin's eyes with a grin. "We did, Mistress. Thank you."

Caitlyn schooled her words, if not her expression. "We did, Mistress. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome," replied Moira. "Now, back to business. Collect your swimwear and towels and place them in the laundry. Then to the shower, both of you, and clean off that sand and lake water. I will graciously allow you to regulate the water temperature for yourselves. The stall door will lock once closed, but as long as you are so contained, I will grant you unlimited instances of sexual gratification until you are released from the shower. Just know I expect you to come out cleaner than you went in."

The prisoners' eyes met. Even Caitlyn's annoyed scowl broke at the revelation. "Yes, Mistress!" they cheered enthusiastically as they scrambled to obey their new orders.

*

"Come on. Stand up and I'll get you rinsed off."

"I don't think I can." Michelle groaned, but it was not an unsatisfied noise. "You turned my legs to jelly." She sat on the floor of the shower, leaning into a corner.

Caitlyn smiled smugly. "You had it coming. Now, up you go." She offered a hand to her partner. "We have to be clean before the door opens."

Michelle sighed and accepted the hand. She only assisted minimally as she was hauled to her feet. Her stance was, indeed, a little wobbly. She braced against the wall and Caitlyn for stability.

"So... Was it good for you?" Caitlyn quipped as she thoroughly rinsed her partner.

Michelle snorted a laugh. "You can't tell? Yeah, it was. Pretty good day so far. I even liked the 'prison trivia', though this was my favorite part." She paused. "I'm having fun. I know this is a little..."

"Inconvenient?" Caitlyn offered. "Undignified? Humiliating?"

"Oh, yes. All of those," agreed Michelle. "I don't think I'd have chosen this. Well, not long-term, but I'm having a good time. I'm kinda glad we got stuck. Still going to try and get unstuck, but..."

"Yeah," Caitlyn sighed. "I got complaints, but nothing serious. It's been a fun diversion. And Mistress is taking good care of us. Ugh, it's automatic now. It's going to be an effort to stop calling her that when we get out of this."

Michelle giggled. "She has another name?" She shuddered as the showerhead passed over her hips. "Ah! Easy there. I'm not sure I could take another so soon and stay upright." 

Caitlyn opened her mouth to reply, but the water flow abruptly cut off and there was a heavy 'click' from the door.

"I feel that should be more than enough time," came Moira's voice. "Are you ladies clean?"

"Yes, Mistress," replied Michelle, with a smirk. "Things got a little dirty there for a while, but I think we got it worked out."

"So your biometrics indicate," agreed Moira. "I recorded five orgasms between the two of you. A slight imbalance, but understandable given the time frame. I have laid out one large towel for you to share. I do not have an appropriate metric for its objective 'fluffiness'."

Caitlyn took her time guiding her less stable partner out of the now unlocked shower. "Thank you, Mistress." They made their way to the towel and she positioned Michelle next to the vanity and wall so she'd have places to lean if necessary. "Might I ask about lunch, Mistress. I'm getting a little hungry."

"Sandwiches again," replied Moira. "And a beverage. I do have a small surprise for you. But that will wait for a moment. Finish drying and we will get you arranged."

Caitlyn suppressed an audible sigh. They'd been free and even clothed for most of the day so far. She shouldn't have been surprised. The drying did not take long. Michelle's hair was the most time-consuming part. Moira even popped open a drawer with a comb to assist. "I think we are clean and dry, Mistress."

"Very good. Now to get you properly secured." The panel that had previously produced a cable that had joined Caitlyn's ankles, produced more of the same, with several cables of varying lengths spilling out to the floor. "Pick them up, Caitlyn," Moira instructed. "There are three cables. Take the mid-length one and use it to connect your ankles as yesterday. Then clip the longest cable to the center of the one on your ankles, then to your collar."

"Yes, Mistress." Caitlyn obeyed, joining her ankles, before running the line up her body to her collar. She found she could stand straight but that would pull her feet together and make walking difficult. There was still a short cable left. Perhaps six inches long.

"One last thing." There was a rattle from the panel and a tiny device pinged into view. "This is a cable clamp," Moira explained. "Connect it to your vertical cable and tighten it in place at about waist level. Then we will hang the final length from it. And join your wrists with it. Do you understand?"

"I think so, Mistress."  Caitlyn fumbled with the clamp for a moment, getting the mechanism worked out. She clipped it in place and snugged it down at the level of her belly button. She found the loop to run the last cable through and did so, and fixed the ends to her wrist cuffs. The result was restrictive, but more annoying than debilitating. Her arms weren't useless, but her reach was limited.

"I want to say that's called a 'serving' arrangement," commented Michelle with a grin. "Wonder who's making lunch?"

"You're more mobile than I am," countered Caitlyn.

"Oh, we are going to fix that," purred Moira. The bathroom door slid open to reveal a familiar arrangement: a kitchen chair mounted on the butler drone. "Michelle, since your balance is currently sub-optimal, you should have a seat." There was a series of pops from her cuffs. "Connect your ankles to the front legs and wrists to the back of the seat. As Caitlyn was yesterday. And leave the driving to me."

"Yes, Ma'am." Michelle was recovering, but she still leaned on the doorframe and Caitlyn until she could drop her butt into her seat. She chose to bolt her ankles to the outside of the chair legs, forcing her knees apart. It took her but a moment longer to feel for the socket at the back of the seat and pop her wrist cuffs into place. She gave a half-hearted twist to test her bonds and found herself fixed in place. "Yeah, I don't think I'm going any-- whoa!"

The chair rotated as the butler, and Michelle, set off down the hall. "We are going to the kitchen, Caitlyn. Meet us there," Moira ordered as Michelle cruised away. "Your gait is restricted, so take your time."

"Like I have a choice, Mistress," muttered Caitlyn, beginning to shuffle after her girlfriend. She had to hunch slightly to take effective steps, and even then, they weren't that effective. This would get old fast if she had to go any distance, but the kitchen wasn't far. She was slightly concerned with her hands, stuck at about waist level. Michelle wasn't going to be making sandwiches, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

The trip took only, perhaps, twice as long but felt like forever. When Caitlyn arrived, Michelle was sitting leisurely and involuntarily at the table and grinned as she entered.

"Hey, look, Caity! Mistress 3-D printed us some straws!" Michelle gestured with her chin to the items on the table.

"She takes good care of us." sighed Caitlyn, resisting the urge to comment on how useful they might have been yesterday. "Good thing too. I'm not sure I could give *myself a drink like this, let alone you."

"I have considered the logistics." put in Moira. "Caitlyn, your first task will be washing your new straws. Then place them in a beverage for yourself and Michelle, before making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for each of you. Your assistance may be required for Michelle to eat."

"Yes, Ma'am." It was a bit of a stretch to recover the straws from the tabletop. Caitlyn wondered briefly how Moira had even gotten them there. Her restricted wrists might have made washing difficult but Moira helpfully turned on the water for her. She did have to crouch and contort to recover the beverages (and jelly) from the fridge, but she managed without incident.  

"Straws work great, Mistress." Michelle leaned forward for a sip of her soda. She was locked hand and foot to her seat, but at least she was able to drink. She would still be entirely dependent on Caitlyn for every bite. "Heavy on the jelly, please."

Caitlyn smirked and rolled her eyes. "Oh, I know what you like, Baby. Might take me a minute, but I'll get there." She wasn't exactly struggling with her task, but her restricted reach and stride were extending the process. She had to keep everything fairly close to the edge of her work surface. She managed. Plates, however, were hopelessly out of reach.

Michelle's mouth was a different story. In order to get the sandwich in position for a bite, they needed to be quite close and do some cooperative leaning. "Just the right amount of jelly." opined Michelle after she swallowed a bite.

"Glad you approve." Caitlyn had to contort a little, just to feed herself.

"Hmm, a great many crumbs," commented Moira as they finished. "But acceptable I suppose, given your limitations. Considering I will not be releasing you for some time, I will graciously handle the cleanup." The butler drone disengaged from Michelle's chair and rolled to a clear side of the table. Once there, it elevated its top section to be even with the tabletop. "Are your beverages empty?"

'Yes, Mistress," confirmed Caitlyn.

"Oh! Wait just a minute! Please! Mistress!" Michelle leaned forward and wrapped her lips around her straw with a slurp. She shifted the straw around as best she could before releasing it. "There's just a little left. Caity, can you tip it so I can get the rest?" Her partner (with some difficulty) complied and she hoovered up the remaining liquid. "Got it! All gone! Thank you, Mistress. And Caity."

"Of course," replied Moira. "I appreciate your thoroughness lest any of the containers leak." An arm extended from the butler and swept the tabletop clear, the refuse falling into a collapsible catch basin before the butler zipped off to deal with it. "One more thing to take care of before an after-dinner vid, I think. Caityn, retrieve the nano-fibre gag from the coffee table and affix it over Michelle's lips."

"Yes, Mistress." Caitlyn moved to obey, struggling to her feet and shuffling toward the living room.

Michelle watched her go, still attached to her chair and with the butler to power it currently absent. "I'll, uh, just wait here then."

*

The screen widened out onto Gina's grinning face. She was moving through the house; exiting the kitchen, it appeared. "February 5th, 2042," she began without preamble. "This trial is going well. My test subjects have been secured in their cells for approximately four hours and will be spending the night in them. It's a little atypical because, uh, Slave 1 can't feed herself, but we've got that worked out for one night. It'd be more of a process for a longer duration."

The angle of the background shifted as she apparently started climbing the loft steps. Then as she reached the top, the camera turned to reveal the cells; two of them lit and apparently occupied. The far two were obscured, but there was a clear view of the first and its prisoner.

Contained within was an athletic-looking woman with light brown skin, and that is all that could be determined. She wore a black mask that looked to be leather. It covered her entire head aside from rectangular openings for her eyes and mouth and seemed to terminate at a familiar-looking collar. She also wore a fully engaged straightjacket of a similar material. There was an opening in the front that left her chest fully exposed.

"And here we have Slave 1," said Gina's voice. "She agreed to assist with this on the condition of anonymity; hence the mask and voice modulator attached to her collar. I'm sure it had nothing to do with her objectification fetish."

"Fuck you, Gina." said Slave 1 with a smirk. Her voice sounded like an electronic masculine growl and coincided with a red L. E. D. that lit on a device clipped on her collar.

Gina snorted out a laugh. "In that regard, Moira has been instructed to ignore the modulated voice, though your safe word should still work, Slave, and she is still watching your vitals. Brought you dinner." A thermos-style cup with a straw was raised into view.

The anonymous woman looked like she was going to speak, but instead just pressed her face to the bars and wrapped her lips around the straw.

"She's in the straitjacket because she's been known to be a handful whether or not she's agreed to cooperate, so I'm not taking any chances."

Slave 1 glared slightly off-center at the camera before releasing the straw. "What am I drinking?" The modulated voice sounded wrong coming from those lips. "Little thick, but not bad."

"Meal replacement mix," answered Gina. "I like the taste anyway. Not quite enough to sustain you. You also get a protein bar. That, I don't like the taste of as much."

Slave 1 returned to her shake with a grunt that sounded quite feral with the electronic adjustments.

Gina waited until the prisoner took another break, before withdrawing the cup, crouching and placing it between the bars to be finished. "I'll be back with your bar in a moment. I want to get your neighbor started." Gina straightened and stepped to the next cell. Another woman stood inside. She was unmasked and, aside from her familiar cuffs and collar, fully naked. She was tall and slender, with pale skin and clipped auburn hair. "And how are we doing over here?" The woman started to grin. "Fuck you, Gin-Arrgh!" Her hand flew to the left side of her collar, covering a blinking L. E. D..

"Language, Jessica." came Moira's voice.

"Language!?" Jessica recovered herself. "What the hel-- heck? I heard Robo-girl over there swear!"

"But Moira didn't," replied Gina, a grin evident in her voice. "Also, she didn't get a shock bit because the jacket keeps her in line."

"Fuck you, Gina," grumbled the robotic voice from the next cell over.

"Fine," Jessica huffed. "You got dinner for me too, Gina."

"First and last warning," came Moira's voice again. "You will refer to the Mistress as Lady Parrish or Ma'am."

Jessica cast a withering look through the bars. "Oh, you're just loving this, aren't you. Ma'am."

"You bet I am," Gina replied with obvious delight. "Now for your dinner, we're going to try a new system. Moira, activate meal service on cell two. It'll take a moment to mix. Then, while you ladies are eating, I think a round of trivia..."

*

"Wow, that lady in the first cell was built," commented Caitlyn. She sat on the leather couch in the living room. She'd have liked to sprawl, but her limbs were still tethered together. She wasn't uncomfortable, just restricted. "

"Mmn mmph," Michelle grunted with an eye roll. She was still in her chair, parked in front of the couch, her lips still sealed with the nano-gag.

"Oh, you're *built too," grinned Caitlyn. "Just not so muscle-y. Mistress, who was that lady in the cage? The non-anonymous one. Jessica. I think I met her."

"She was a close friend of my creator," replied Moira. "I do not have all the details. She was here often and assisted with much of the testing. And was often here to visit."

"And Slave 1? Do you know who that is? Uh, Mistress."

"I can make educated guesses," said Moira. "Every guest must interact with me. Slave 1 was a regular test subject but was always anonymous in the logs.'

"That voice mod was really something," Caitlyn directed her attention to Michelle. "It synced perfectly with her lips. It looked like her voice, on the screen anyway."

"Mmm hmm." Michelle did what she could to be involved in the conversation.

"And that mask... Mistress, was that locked on? By the collar?"

"Yes, Caitlyn," answered Moira. "Slave 1 gave it a thorough test, though it was not recorded on the chance she succeeded in removing it. Which she did not."

Caitlyn snuffed out a laugh. "So what now, Mistress?"

"It is approaching time for a bathroom break," said Moira. "I think I will send you separately this time. After which, I will--" The AI's voice cut off abruptly.

Caitlyn's eye met Michelle's. "Moi-- uh, Mistress? You all right?"

"Incoming call on 'Caitlyn's phone'." Moira's voice had shifted to a less animated service tone.

"Oh, uh..." Caitlyn pulled at her cables. "Who is it? Maybe we should--"

"Connecting now."

"Wait! Um..."

"Hey, Cait." A male voice spoke through the living room speakers. "How are things going?"

"Oh." Caitlyn looked nervously at her partner and tried not to stammer. "Hey... Uncle Steve..."