Backstab

I don't give the machine a second glance as I enter the room - I've seen it so many times, I have become accustomed to its dark, overpowering presence. Compared to the darkness in my own heart, it is nothing. The machine just does what it was built to do. I had made a choice.

I think of the number of innocent young women I have sentenced to a life of slavery over the years, in my position as Deletion Manager in this major corporation. It's my job to hack into computer systems around the world to modify or delete every file and record that contains information about the young woman to be deleted... I only play a small part in this huge operation, but I'm an important cog in the machine. I'm not the researcher who tracks down and spies on potential girls. I'm not the trained kidnapper who whisks them away in the middle of the night. I'm not the evil, sadistic trainer who breaks the girls will and turns them into obedient slaves. I'm not the salesperson who negotiates the trade of these slaves with our many customers. But I still play a part, and for that I'm as guilty as anyone. But, hey, at least it pays the bills.

I turn my attention back to the machine. The company has been doing well recently, and can afford to splash out on such extravagances - the machine is designed to bind newly-kidnapped women to make them utterly helpless... without damaging them. It is very fast, very efficient and breathtaking to watch in action. I sometimes come down to this room on my lunchbreaks to watch women being bound helplessly by the many delicate robot arms... and I take great pleasure, great satisfaction, in seeing the end product of all my hard work come to fruition. One of these days, I'll work up the courage to visit the slave-training dungeons... but I have a delicate stomach, and I've heard the most horrible stories.

I look at the clock on the wall. It's past eight, and most people have gone home. But I've arranged to meet someone here tonight, to further my career. The usual methods of good performance and promotion are useless on this particular corporate ladder - the only way to advance is to stab a superior in the back and take their place. And I've been promised some juicy gossip on my immediate boss...

I look at the machine again. It almost fills the room. There is a console in the centre of the room, into which various parameters for types of bondage can be entered. The rest of the machine consists of a conveyor belt which travels alongside three walls of the room, beside which many delicate robot arms wait dormant for their next innocent victim. I wonder what the next victim will look like. I wonder if she'll struggle, if she'll scream, or if she'll just resign herself to her fate. I can feel my nipples hardening, and I smile - I like the idea of watching a young woman struggling in vain as she is tightly bound by the relentless machine.

"Ahem!"

I spin around. The cougher is my assistant, Charlotte.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Meeting you," she smiles, leaning nonchalantly against the control console.

Meeting me? So, she's the one who sent me that anonymous memo, asking me to meet her. But what could she possibly know about my boss that I didn't? How could she..? And then realisation dawns - I have been tricked. She doesn't mean to help me replace my boss. She means to help herself replace me...

"You scheming little..." I say, marching towards her, planning to show her who's in charge here - but I never get a chance to complete my sentence, since she presses a button on the console and two robot arms descend quickly from the ceiling and grab my wrists, hoisting me up into the air so I'm left dangling.

"That's no way to speak, slave-girl," she says, raising an eyebrow at me as I hurl a long list of expletives at her.

The two robot arms lower me onto the conveyor belt - I am too busy squirming and cursing to notice the manacles closing tightly around my ankles, forcing my legs apart. And there I am, spreadeagled, standing on the conveyor belt that has sentenced so many women to a life of slavery, awaiting my turn. I'm not scared, though - I'm furious.

"I'll get you for this!" I shout, looking my (former) assistant in the eye.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she grins, pressing another button on the console.

The conveyor belt shudders into life, and I find myself moving along it towards a set of small robotic arms wielding knives... I've watched them many times before, and I know that no matter how much I move they won't even scratch me - they're designed to remove my clothes as quickly and efficiently as possible. They move in and I feel the cold metal harmlessly touch my flesh a number of times, but my thoughts are more on the destruction of my expensive trouser suit! I look across to Charlotte as the arms become a blur of activity, but all she does is smile whilst smoothing back her short, red hair. I look up at the robotic arms gripping my wrists - I know that pulling at them is futile, but I try it anyway. It's only when I feel a draft of cool air against my bare skin that I realise I am naked. Charlotte presses a button on the console to halt the process before walking over to me.

"Not so quick to attack me now, I see," she smiles, looking me up and down - despite my hard exterior, I'm really quite shy, and I furiously try to look like I don't care about my nakedness... but underneath, I'm a quivering, humiliated wreck.

"You've had your little fun," I reply, trying to get some dominance into my voice, "now let me go and we can forget that this ever happened."

"But I have no intention of letting you go," she says, and I begin to feel a panic rising inside me.

"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice wavering.

"While you were down here waiting, I was in your office... deleting you. You're a nobody now. Excellent slave material. I'm sure the company will get a good price for you."

"You can't be serious..." I say, but I know that she is - I'm about to meet the fate I've dished out to so many innocents.

It's almost poetic.

She doesn't reply. She just returns to the console and presses a button. The conveyor starts up again, and I can do nothing to stop myself being propelled towards the next group of robot arms. I begin to wonder what setting she has put into the machine, what sort of bondage awaits me. Thoughts of escape are no longer on my mind - I know there is nothing I can do to stop this process. My only hope is that someone will come rescue me from this madwoman... but who would want to rescue me? No-one knows I'm here... and everyone under me wants me out of the way anyway...

The robot arms gripping my wrists come down, holding my hands and waist height - smaller arms move in and quickly bind black tape around my hands, forcing them into fists, making my fingers completely useless. My balled fists are then drawn behind my back, with my forearms parallel to the floor, and more tape is applied to my forearms. And then the robot arms withdraw - the only ones holding me in place are gripping my ankles, since my arms are now securely bound behind my back. Charlotte is softly giggling to herself as she watches me struggle. She presses a button on the console to halt the process again, and walks over to me to gloat.

"Feeling helpless yet?" she asks, pulling a ring-gag out of her jacket pocket.

"You don't want me as an enemy," I warn her, standing still and proud, trying to stare her down.

"Too late for that, I think," she smiles coyly, holding the gag in front of my face.

"Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement..?" I begin to ask, but am interrupted by her pulling the ring-gag into my mouth and fastening it very tightly behind my head.

I groan into the gag, shaking my head to get it loose, but my struggles are in vain. Charlotte stops talking but instead walks around me, looking me up and down, making me feel even more naked and vulnerable. She runs a finger around my midsection, under where my bound forearms and fists are helplessly held by black tape. She stops in front of me and her finger traces a line up between my breasts - I close my eyes, not wanting her to how much she's turning me on. I feel her warm breath on one of my nipples and I swear into my gag as I feel it harden... her finger moves swiftly down my body, down between my legs, to the growing moistness...

"Interesting," she purrs, "I think I might be doing you a favour. You like this."

A soft, low moan escapes my gagged lips... and then she steps away from me. I open my eyes as I feel the manacles around my ankles loosen their grip and then withdraw. I quickly hop off the conveyor belt and look at Charlotte, curiously.

"Mmmmmph?"

"Sod the promotion," she smiles, "I want to play with you."

"Mmmmmph!?!"

I back away as she advances towards me, but I know I don't have a chance. Bound as I am, I can do nothing to stop her grabbing hold of me and playing with me as much as she wants. Or can I? Perhaps this is a mistake on her part. Perhaps her arousal has clouded her judgement. A duck, a turn, a foot planted squarely on her round bottom and a moment later she's sprawling on the floor. I take the brief seconds I have to quickly run over to the console and press some buttons with my nose.

"Why you..." she says, getting to her feet before her sentence is abruptly cut-off - I watch as two robot arms descend from the ceiling and grab her wrists before lifting her onto the start of the conveyor belt.

If I wasn't gagged, I'd be smiling.

I ignore her screams, threats and protests as the first set of arms quickly strips her of her clothes. I manipulate the controls on the console as she goes through the machine, selecting the most stringent and painful settings I can find. First, her hands are balled into fists and covered in black tape, like mine. Then, her arms are drawn up behind her back in a reverse prayer and securely taped in position. A feeling of tremendous satisfaction rolls over me as I watch her struggle in vain as she is inexorably drawn along the conveyor belt to the next set of robot arms. These lift her into the air and bind her legs in a lotus position. The last step is a few lengths of chain which attach to her shoulders, knees and crotch so she can be suspended from a single hook, which carries her away through a set of doors at the end of the room for slave processing. Just before the doors close, she manages to struggle around so she can look at me - I raise my eyebrows at her before bending down to press the last button, which ensures that she won't be coming back a free person.

Perfect. Now all I need to do is sort out my own release. Unfortunately, the tape binding my arms isn't designed for easy release. I decide to head towards my office to see if I can find some suitable stationary. It's rather surreal, running through this huge office complex at night, naked, bound and gagged. I eventually get to the lift and press the buttons with my nose, staggering a little as the lift whisks me upwards towards my floor. The doors open and I'm surprised to see light - the light is moving in the distance, bouncing around, and I realise that it is torchlight. Just in time, I duck out of the way as it shines into the lift. The last thing I want is to be found by a security guard - gagged as I am, I would be mistaken for an escaped slave!

When I think the coast is clear, I venture out into the office. Half ducking, half crouching, I run to my own little office and gently nudge the door closed behind me. It feels so good to be somewhere familiar, even if my circumstances aren't. My first thoughts go to revenge - I quickly nudge the mouse to take my computer out of screensaver mode and type my password in with my nose (hoping the amount of drool I'm producing won't break the keyboard). It takes ages to do the simplest of tasks, but I am the sort of girl who plans ahead - a simple click on a desktop shortcut is all I need to delete Charlotte from the world's computers. I always thought she might try to get rid of me, so the desktop shortcut was my insurance...

Once that task is finished, I turn my attention to freedom. Since my hands are tightly bound in tape, the solution isn't obvious. I decide to find myself a knife and work slowly but surely... I know I have the entire night to free myself, and cutting myself is the last thing I want to do. As long as I'm free before my colleagues arrive in the morning, I'll be happy. At least, that's the plan. But then I see torchlight shining on me, and quick as a flash I duck underneath my desk. My brain is a flurry of activity - did the guard see me? Did the guard hear me? My office door slowly opens and the bouncing flashlight beam lights up the room. I inch further under the desk, hoping I'm out of sight...

Two strong hands grab my shoulders and pull me out into the light.

"Well, well, well, what do we have hear?" asks the security guard.

I recognise him as Jeff. But I don't think he recognises me. Either that, or he's choosing not to. I mumble some harsh words into the ring-gag but he doesn't pay any attention. Instead, he takes a collar from his belt and fastens it around my neck - he attaches a leash to it, and leads me out of the room.

"Please," he says, pulling on the leash to make me stumble a little, "try to resist. It makes my job far more enjoyable."

The last thing I want to do is resist... the size of the truncheon hanging at his belt makes me feel very nervous. Instead, I follow him obediently, and hope his colleagues will recognise me. Especially since I am naked - when I first joined my company, I slept my way through the entire security team to get promoted.

We eventually arrive at the security office. Jeff turns to me and leers, looking my naked body up and down as he closes the door behind me. I shudder, and back away as far as the leash allows. He just smiles and pulls the leash down, through my legs and up between my buttocks before looping the end over the doorknob.

"I need to find out what I'm supposed to do with you," he winks, leaving by the other door, "Don't go anywhere."

It's not as if I have any choice. I have to stand on my toes to relieve the pressure on my crotch, and any struggling just makes it tighten all the more between my legs... I can't move a muscle without being stimulated, and it's beginning to feel rather nice. But that's not what I'm here to do - I need to escape, while he's off consulting his superiors.

All attempts to get a leg over the leash fail miserably, and only result in me getting hornier. And that's the last thing I need right now. I'm still struggling when Jeff returns, sporting a huge grin on his face.

"Mmmmmph?"

"As long as you're in slave processing by six in the morning, I can do what I like with you..."

"Mmmmmph!?!"

He unloops the leash from the door handle (noticing how wet the section between my legs has become) and pushes me down to my knees. A pair of belts is looped around my legs, binding my ankles to my thighs in a tight frogtie. He leaves me to struggle while he undresses... and before I know what's happening, there's a pair of hands gripping my hair and a hard cock pushing into my mouth. With my teeth firmly held apart by the ring-gag, my only defence is to try to push him out with my tongue... but judging by his moans, I guess that it's having the opposite effect. I pull hard at my bonds, but the tape is as strong as ever and the leather belts creak loudly without giving a millimetre for me to work with. Even worse, the cold metal of the belt buckles is pressing against my skin and making me feel really uncomfortable...

I feel his cock growing harder inside my open mouth, as he begins to thrust back and forth... I begin to wonder if his cock will outgrow the confines of the ring-gag, but my thoughts are soon washed away by the realisation of my own arousal... my struggles for freedom turn to squirms of pleasure as he pumps in and out of my mouth, a handful of my long black hair in each of his fists. He grunts and tenses, and I can feel him cumming inside my mouth as he withdraws and splashes hot cum all over my naked body. I lick up what I can, unable to do much else as he steadies himself on the wall and grins. He picks up his clothes, dresses, and goes back out on patrol without giving me a single thought.

And all I can do is sit there, utterly helpless, covered in cum, unable to escape - I can't even reach the doorknob to open the door. All I can do is wait for his return.

It seems like hours, but eventually he does return, for round two. He undresses, throwing his clothes into the corner, and I know exactly what he wants. He lays on the floor next to me, on his back, before he reaches across and grabs my waist, pulling me over to him, making me sit astride him.

With my legs bound as they are, I can't get off... he positions me over his cock and slowly slides inside my waiting pussy, filling me completely... I look down at him, a ribbon of drool slowly rappelling towards his chest, as I try to get comfortable - I know I'm in for a long ride. His hands are on my waist, keeping me in position. And I begin to move, on top of him, back and forth... and he moves inside me, filling me, hitting just the right spot, causing me to moan loudly into the gag. His hands move up my body, roughly grabbing my breasts, cupping them first then squeezing them hard while I continue to ride, faster and faster, as he somehow manages to thrust deeper and deeper... He tweaks my nipples as I ride him, before roughly grabbing my breasts again - I can do nothing to stop him manhandling me in this way, but then I don't want to stop him... I look up at the ceiling, riding him hard, groaning so loudly as he fondles me... one of his hands goes to my ass, to slap my left buttock hard as I bounce up and down on him, his other hand alternating between my breasts, squeezing my hard nipples... I pump harder, ride harder, groaning so loudly into the gag as both of his hands squeeze my breasts again, looking down into his eyes as he plays with my nipples... pulling at my bonds harder now, not for escape but because I want to thrust both of my hands down between my legs to increase my arousal all the more, to fan the flames of my desire to new heights... I'm riding him so hard now, I'm surprised I'm staying on... the only thing keeping me from falling off is his large cock impaling me from beneath, anchoring me in place as I bounce up and down, faster and faster... he needs to keep a hand on my waist now, to steady me in my increasing passion, and his other hand briefly delves between my legs to arouse me further... and then he's back at my breasts again, and I feel that drool has escaped my open mouth and he's rubbing it with the dried cum from earlier... but my attention doesn't stay there long, since I can feel the waves of orgasm threatening to wash over me like a tsunami... and we get into a rhythm, him gripping my breasts as I pump harder, higher, stronger, faster on him, and he raises his hips to meet me with each movement... and I'm riding him, but I'm the one moving like a wild animal, completely out of control... and somehow he manages to penetrate me deeper... until... the moment... comes... and wave after wave after wave of wonderful orgasms wash over me, while I sit on him, still moving, still pumping, and I feel him cumming inside me, filling me with his hot cum... slowing down, but he's still playing with my breasts, still kneading them, still teasing my hard nipples... and then we speed up again, and I find myself groaning and moaning as loud as I can, with him gripping my hips, holding me tight against him, as he fills me completely, and I cum again... leaning backwards, almost overbalancing, but he pulls me back upright by my nipples... and we slow again... and stop... breathless... exhausted... spent.

His strong hands grip me and lift me off, putting me to one side as he puts his clothes on again. I can do nothing but sit there, panting. He slowly gets dressed, not saying a word, before he bends down and picks me up, putting me over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, one of his hands gripping my buttocks firmly, as he carries me out of the room and takes me to slave processing. He dumps me in the cell next to Charlotte, and she gives me such an evil look I feel compelled to return it.

"Pity you've been deleted," she grins, evilly, still struggling in her stringent bondage, "since all I have to do is say who I am and they'll free me."

Gagged as I am, I can only stay silent... and wait to see the look on her face when she learns that she has been deleted too.