As soon as she stepped into the testing chamber, she knew she was in for a hell of a time. Loona was used to weird assignments, most of which she did not look forward to, but this was on a whole other level. Stacks of computers and strange machinery rose high up into the ceiling that she could barely see. Was there even a ceiling? She took another step while trying to find the unseen upper limit of the chamber and almost tripped on one of the many cables that snaked about its cold metal floor.
Nested inconspicuously in the corner of the chamber, just past something that looked weirdly like a sensory deprivation tank, was the chair.
She approached it cautiously.
“What are the straps for?” she asked.
“Why, for your safety, of course!” The tall, caped man clarified. “Trust us, it’s better if you can’t move while in VR.”
“We wouldn’t want any accidents, now, would we?” added the short, fat man.
“Don’t worry, Miss Loona. You’ll be in your own little world with full control for a week.”
“I fucking better be,” she snarled. “If I feel so much as a pinch on my tail, I’m bustin’ out and turning this whole lab into a scrapyard.”
“Good thing we have insurance.”
The hellhound groaned and took her seat. A minute later, thick leather straps bound her snuggly to the chair. The tall man brought over a heavy-looking pair of goggles and slipped them over her eyes. Her vitals came up on a monitor atop the desk beside the chair. A faint hum grew in the back of her head before turning into a strange itch inside her head. She fidgeted in her bonds.
“That feels weird!”
“That’d be the brain scan. It’ll be over in a sec and then it’s off to the races!” The tall man said. “If the tests are successful then Lyle-Loopty Robotics is gonna take off in Hell as it did on Earth!”
She wanted to scratch her head badly but the bonds made sure she couldn’t, so instead she closed her eyes and hoped it would be over quick.
The itch grew and grew and then… nothing.
Loona opened her eyes to a Lyle-Loopty Robotics logo being beamed directly to her eyeballs by the goggles.
“Brain scan complete. Ready, Loopty?” the short man said.
“Always, Lyle,” the tall one replied.
“Starting deep-dive in three… two… one…”
An alien sensation seized her temples before spreading to her whole head and then her whole body.
She felt numb.
Weightless.
As if floating in an intangible ocean of nothingness. Then, slowly, something akin to reality materialized around her. It felt like a lucid dream at first, but as her mind began growing accustomed to the electrical impulses fed to it by the headset and accepted them as reality, she felt more and more awake.
“D-did it work?” she asked groggily as if she had awoken from a long sleep.
“If you can speak then yes it did!” Loopty’s voice echoed out from the nothingness around her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, Dear Loona. Just know you’re a very lucky test subject.”
“Ugh, don’t call me that!”
“You seem lucid enough. Load up day one.”
In the blink of an eye, an entire room popped into existence. It had bare cement walls and a matching ceiling. The floor might’ve followed the same trend but Loona could not see it since she was lying one her back on a padded table covered in straps from head to toe.
“What the fuck!?”
She panicked. The straps were tight, much tighter than the ones on the chair, and they were everywhere. She could feel them dig into her fur… Wait, where were her clothes?
“How are you feeling, Miss? Comfortable?” the voice boomed all around her.
“Get me the fuck out of here right now!”
“And end the test? No can do, wolfy. Chances are we’ll never have another opportunity as good as this so you’re in for the long haul.”
She clenched her bound fists in fury. “I swear, I’m going to bite your head off!”
“Feisty, are we? Don’t worry, we have just the thing for that.”
A whirring noise came from under the table. Loona craned her head to see a large blue object attached to a piston come up from a compartment between her legs, lining itself with her vulnerable pussy.
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
It was big and covered in small bumps and ridges. The kind Loona might’ve even enjoyed trying out if not for the nature of the situation. Regardless, she didn’t have a choice.
The piston engaged with a hiss and the dildo moved towards its target. Despite her best efforts to squeeze her legs shut, she could not stop the object from intruding.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fucking stop!” she protested, squirming in her bonds unwanted waves of pleasure emanated from her genitals. “Why the fuck are you doing this?”
“Because every invention needs to be tested before it’s ready for the market.” She could sense a smirk behind the man’s words. “How do you think we got to Hell in the first place? I’ll give you hint - it wasn’t by following ethical testing guidelines. Now don’t hold back, Miss. We’re measuring your every little twitch.”
In the real world, Loona’s dormant body was shaking wildly in her chair as her mind remained trapped in VR and slammed with pleasurable sensations. Back and forth the dildo moved, rubbing its many ridges and bumps against the sensory flesh of her labia and clitoris. It made her feel full. Like she could not physically take more of it. Worse of all, she knew this was just the tip. She could feel the toy getting larger as it penetrated deeper into her but always retracted before it became painful. For now, it felt good.
Obscenely good.
Her eyes rolled back in her sockets as she almost gave in and orgasmed.
No.
Fuck these guys. She was determined not to give them the satisfaction of cumming from their perverted little scheme. And when she set her mind to something, she was unmoving.
She gritted her teeth and attempted to block out the sensations, even focusing on the bondage instead to try and take her mind off the dildo.
“She should’ve cum by now, Lyle. Don’t you think?”
“Hmm, yes. She’s resisting, perhaps?”
Yes! It was working! She was messing up their test! All she had to do now was hold on for as long as possible and make sure those assholes got nothing from her.
“Why I think we should crank things up a notch.”
“Quite.”
She looked puzzled. “The fuck do you mean- GAH!”
The piston’s speed doubled and so did the amount of dildo that it was ramming into her pussy.
It hurt.
“Gnnh!! Stop! Stop! Just fucking stop!” she protested.
“No can do, Miss. Not until you cum for us.”
She gritted her teeth and let out a fierce growl. “In your dreams, sicko!”
And yet despite her bravado, the inevitable soon transpired. All it took was a moment’s weakness for her defenses to crumble and succumb to the unfeeling toy, coating it in an explosion of her juices.
For a second, she was not in Hell anymore but rather in its divine counterpart. When that blessed second was over, though, she was dragged back kicking and screaming to the burning fires of the eternal abyss.
The dildo wasn’t stopping.
Her whole body was alight with sensation. She came again, and again, and again.
“Gah! Fucking stop!” She screamed when she found herself able to. “I’m done! You’ve got what you wanted!”
“Oh, Miss. What we want is for you to cum and cum again until the day is over. Remember, you signed up for a whole week.”
“I didn’t sign up for shit!!” She yelled as the dildo wrung another painful orgasm out of her. Surprisingly powerful considering her earlier eruptions. Was she always that much of a squirter, she wondered?
“Well, your agency did. And you’re not leaving until you give us all the data we need to turn the LLR VR Torture System into the best product in its class!”
“Fuck off! Gah!”
Another orgasm. This wasn’t normal. She should be bone-dry by now. Were they doing something to her? Regardless, the dam had burst and there was no fixing it. Minutes passed and turned into hours. Painful hours of non-stop orgasmic bliss that overloaded her senses in ways that were impossible by conventional means. When was it going to stop? Was there some unknown quota she was supposed to meet? She didn’t know. She had no choice. No choice but to endure the dildo’s torture for as long as her captors deemed suitable.
By the end of the second hour, she was drenched in sweat. By the fourth, she couldn’t scream anymore. By the tenth, her sex had been rubbed raw.
To say that she ‘woke up’ would be wrong. Loona was not allowed rest. After twenty-four straight hours of being forced to orgasm, a part of her mind shut off. She became a sort of living doll, cumming on auto-pilot as the machine demanded. After it finally ended, they did something to her. She felt fully aware, physically and psychologically able to carry on with the experiment. And yet the hellhound did not experience any of the benefits of a truly restful sleep.
The voices of her captors echoed through the blackness of VR-space before it took it’s next form.
“You did such a good job on your first day, Miss. You must be eager to give us all the data we need!”
“Get me out of here, you fuckers!”
“Such an eager little thing you are! We should start right away!”
The fabric of reality vibrated in the same way it did the day before. A strange contraption materialized in the middle of the void. Steel segments formed an x-frame to which Loona was bound by cuffs of the same material, naked.
“Wha?! Hey! Let me out of this thing!” The hellhound struggled fiercely but the contraption looked strong enough to hold a being endowed with ten time her strength. Just as she found out she could still wiggle her waist; a band of steel materialized around it and held it in place. “Grr! Why do you keep tying me up, you weirdos?!”
“A good study demands its subject to be still, no?” Lyle said.
“And also because we’re perverts.” Added Loopty.
“Yes, that too.”
When the x-frame had finished materializing, it was time for its surroundings. Bare walls and sterile lighting - much like the real-world lab Loona was in - with a few notable additions. All around the small virtual room where articulated robotic arms tipped with strange devices not unlike miniature versions of the brush rollers one could find at an automatic car wash.
“Now tell me, Miss. Are you ticklish?”
Her heart sank.
“Oh FUCK no! Anything but that!”
The rollers whirred to life and began to spin as the arms positioned themselves around Loona, ready to attack all of her sensitive spots. She trembled in her bondage.
“I’ll take that as a yes!”
The countless mechanical arms seemed to tense around her like snakes poised to strike and she was suddenly very aware of how exposed she was. The anticipation alone was enough to make her curl her toes and tried to pull her arms down. Alas, the bondage made the latter impossible.
“Now where should we tickle you first, hmm? Care to help us?”
“FUCK YOU!”
“Still feisty, eh? Don’t worry. We’ll turn that frown upside down in no time!”
The first roller began to advance towards her belly.
“Wait! Wait, wait, wait! No, please! Not tickling! Nohohot tihihickling!”
As it made contact, it increased the speed of its rotation so that the stiff bristles brushed past her fur and against the sensitive skin underneath many times per second. Loona broke into laughter immediately.
“Ha! That proves our theory that hellhounds are extremely ticklish!”
The sound of a high-five echoed through the room.
“Indeed! If she’s laughing this much from a single roller imagine how bad it’ll be with all of them at once.”
If the mere thought of that wasn’t enough to make her stomach turn, then the two rollers that suddenly made contact with her exposed armpits certainly were.
“AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
She struggled madly in those unbreakable restraints as the assault on her senses continued unabated. She hated it. Nothing made her feel quite as helpless as humiliated as being tickled. After all, what better way to make her seem less threatening than to force her to laugh against her will?
“Oooh, her armpits are really bad!”
“I’m thinking her paws might be worse, though. Did you see how soft they looked?”
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening!
“Good point. Shall we test that theory?”
She didn’t have time to think before the room spun around her - or rather, she did. The x-frame rotated 180 degrees so that her paws lost the protection of being firmly planted on the floor. Was this whole scenario not virtually simulated, it would also have the advantage of keeping her from passing out as easily as gravity would ensure enough blood remained in her brain despite the intensity of the torture.
But that wasn’t the reason for this decision.
Two rollers descended down from ceiling-mounted arms towards her bare paws. Her toes curled in anticipation.
“Now, Miss, we can’t have that. We suspect that the areas under your toes are exceptionally sensitive. Would you be so kind as to uncurl them?”
“Piss off, you wacko!”
“Ah, no matter. Deploying additional restraints.”
Little metal claws jutted out from her ankle cuffs and wrapped themselves around her toes, pulling them taut as the rollers spun up.
“There we go! Now don’t hold back. We’re measuring decibels, here.”
She couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. As soon as the stiff, spinning rollers made contact with her soft paw-pads, she couldn’t help but scream.
They were completely correct to hypothesize that her toes were extremely ticklish. As the rollers spun, they pushed the stiff bristles between her immobile digits and past the thin layer of fur there to touch parts of her that had seldom been touched before. It awakened long dormant clusters of nerves and shook her to her core.
It tickled! Oh Hell, it tickled too much!
“GYAAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAP!”
“Stop? But we’ve only just started!”
“Twenty-three hours to go, Miss.”
This couldn’t be happening. The orgasm torture from the day before seemed almost desirable compared to the pure agony that she was forced to endure.
They never let her get used to the torment, constantly adding new rollers to compound the stimulation. The armpits and belly rollers returned and were soon joined by rollers at Loona’s inner thighs, sides, neck, and smaller ones for each individual toe while the ones that tormented her paws before focused on the soles and heels.
Everything hurt. Her sides, cheeks, throat and lungs felt strained beyond reason. She felt her heart thump painfully in her head where blood pooled resulting in a massive headache.
Only after enduring twenty-four straight hours of maddening tickle-torture was she allowed some rest. A full five minutes of it.
She felt her real body tremble as her consciousness floated freely through cyberspace once again, awaiting its next torment to take shape when the voices boomed again.
“How are you enjoying virtual reality so far, Miss?”
“Let me out!”
“Ho! Do I detect a reduction in attitude? By golly, Lyle, it’s working!”
“Indeed it is, dear Loopty! And we’re not even halfway through yet!”
She was about to curse her captors before she felt the endless void shake again. This time, she found herself within the confines of four wooden panels about the height of her shoulders.
“I’d recommend you hold your breath.”
Loona looked up and saw a large vat of something about to be poured over her head. Startled, she closed her eyes and held her breath just in time before a thick, pebbly fluid to come pouring down over her head. When it stopped, she finally opened her eyes to find herself neck-deep in cement mix. Quick-drying cement mix, by the looks of it.
“W-What’s this?”
“Now, you don’t happen to be claustrophobic, right?”
The four wooden panels vanished to reveal the solid block of cement that encased her up to her neck, perfectly molded around each curve of her naked body. Loona couldn’t move a finger.
“Are you gonna keep me here for a day?” She dared to guess.
“Correct! Well, err… there is something else too.”
Her ears folded flat against her head and she found herself letting out a whimper as her mind raced to guess what torment would be inflicted upon her next. What could possibly be worse than the tickle torture from the day before?
She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
A latex hood slipped over her head, completely covering the last bit of herself that remained outside the cement.
“MNFF!!!”
Almost immediately, she began shaking her head wildly. This, of course, did nothing other than tire her out and make her aware of a rather grim fact: There were no air holes in the hood.
“Careful there, Miss! I’d save your breath if I were you!”
Pretty soon, she felt a burning need to inhale but found her diaphragm unable to contract. She panicked.
“MMNF!! MNF! LFT MFF GNFF!!!”
Panic gripped her heart as she felt her heart race and her lungs scream for air. She clawed at the inside of the cement to no avail, convulsing within the solid block while her consciousness started to fade.
Loona truly felt as if she was about to die.
But suddenly, just as the sensations reached their peak and the next logical step would be to pass out, she felt a sudden rush of energy. Enough to keep her wide-awake and conscious.
Of course. They wouldn’t let her pass out.
“This is more of a mental challenge than a physical one, Miss. Let’s see if your mind can remain intact while your body thinks you’re about to die.”
This was beyond cruel.
As much as she tried to convince herself that her real body was safe, her mind could not ignore the sensations and it screamed one thing and one thing only: Help!
“MNNNNFFHHH!!” she screamed from behind the hood. Her heart raced and her lungs burned as her brain was deprived of oxygen for much longer than it should be able to while still maintaining conscience. She had no idea how any VR headset could make her feel like this and no amount of thinking that her real-world self was fine could convince her brain that she was not, in fact, o the verge of death. Surely this couldn’t go on for as long as the previous tortures did. No creature’s mind could withstand the feeling of being on the verge of death for that long.
Loona’s immobile fingers clawed small dents inside her tailor-made concrete prison. The mere fact that she was able to scratch concrete off with her bare claws was a testament to how much sheer suffering she was in at that moment. It was nothing short of unnatural to feel on the verge of death for a long as she had and still be alive and kicking.
After twenty-four hours of agony, she was finally released from the millimetric grasp of the concrete block, her consciousness fading as her body dematerialized into the virtual aether once more.
She came to again. Abrustly, restlessly. Her naked body already within the confines of another demented torture device. She was spread-eagle, sandwiched between two sheets of black latex forming a vacuum seal. Other than a short tube that she could breath from, Loona was completely encased within the latex, the feeling of the smooth material snugly pressing into her skin.
“Have you tried a vacbed before, Miss?”
She had not.
“It’s a very fun device, as you shall soon find out. It does have one draw-back, though.”
“Yes. You see, it can get a bit… itchy.”
As that word left the demented scientist’s lips, she felt something. A tingle on her left paw as if an ant was crawling between her toes. She tried to move her leg but she couldn’t! The vacuum seal was too tight. Loona let out an annoyed moan and strained against the latex.
“What’s wrong, Miss? Feel an itch?”
Suddenly, the sensation grew. It expanded from a small point between her toes to her whole paw. As if the ant had invited the whole anthill for an extended trek from heel to toes. She wanted to scratch her paw badly.
“MMH! MMHF!”
It was maddening. Not as overtly painful and panic-inducing as the last day of torture had been but still quite maddening. The itch kept growing until it enveloped her entire leg. She pushed the vacbed to its limits but it was simply not possible to scratch the itch. The seal was unnaturally strong, probably due to its virtual nature.
Loona let out a helpless whimper. By now, she knew it was useless to resist. She was trapped in a playground fully controlled by that demented duo. All she could do was endure it. Do her best to keep her sanity while comforting herself in the thought of how she was going to rip them apart with her teeth when she got out. If she got out. As scary as it was to think about, she had to consider the possibility that they were simply going to leave her there. Mind trapped for eternity, tormented by all manner of sadistic tortures while her real body was maintained. She pushed that thought aside for fear it would dash what little remained of her hope.
“How does it feel, Miss? Do you like it?”
“MMHHH!”
“We’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Now, that itch must be getting really bad. Imagine how much worse it would be if it got between your legs.”
He just had to say it. And, just as he did, the itch grew to envelop her sex.
“MMMMMMNFFF!!!”
Loona screamed through the small air hose. All her thoughts were derailed by an intense, incessant itch over the folds of her pussy.
“And let’s not forget your clit.”
It was too much. The itch assaulted her sensitive clitoris from every direction. It was the one place where she could not stand it. There was an erotic aspect to it. She couldn’t quite say it felt *good *but it was certainly a different feeling from what she had on her paw, for example. She did not expect to orgasm - or get anywhere near that. No. This was still torture, after all.
The itch kept growing. From her pelvis, it grew to her other leg until she felt like she was up to her waist in itching powder. Then her hips started itching. It kind of tickled. Then her tummy and her lower back, creeping up her back until it reached her shoulders and then spread out to her breasts.
“You’re doing great, Miss. We’re almost at full coverage.”
It traveled from her shoulders to her spread-out arms, feeling particularly intense on her armpits and her elbow joints - two areas where her skin was particularly tender, and one of which had already been thoroughly abused during her day of tickle torture.
Not long after that, the sensation enveloped what little of her body was still free of it. From the tips of her ears to her fingers and toes. It itched. Oh Lucifer, it itched!
Her brain was overloaded with the sensations. It was simply too much.
“MMMMMMNNNFFFFF!”
“Doing alright there, Loona? It’s still only been two hours.”
She was going crazy.
“We’ll start gradually increasing the intensity. Should be hitting the maximum in about… Eight hours or so.”
It was surreal. Even after three full days of mind-melting virtual torture, after being forced to cum over and over, tickled out of her mind and being encased in cement and fucking *suffocated *for twenty-four hours straight, they still managed to surprise her.
True to their word, the inventor duo cranked the itching up little by little, turning it from a mild (but still unbearable itch) to what might feel like the effects a weapons grade itching powder. It was as if every nerve in the hellhound’s skin was vibrating and screaming: “Scratch me!”
Loona shook in the vabed, trying everything she could to lessen the sensations somehow. In the real world, her body also shook within the binds of the virtual reality chair she sat on.
This was it. This was the worse torture she had experienced up until now. Now way to avoid it. No way to tune it out. It was Hell within Hell. She could not even begin to conceptualize anything worse than the full-body, mind-breaking, skin-ripping itch she was feeling.
“Aaaand we’re at fifty percent! Good job holding out so far, Miss! I’m sure the remaining seventeen and a half hours will be no trouble for you!”
Half. This was half of what the machine was capable of.
The hellhound let out an ear-splitting scream of pure terror.
“LHT MNF HNNF! LHT MNF HNNF! LHT MNF HNNF!”
“Let you out? No can do, Miss. You know we must conclude the experiment.”
“MMMMMMNNNNNFFFFFFF!!”
Eight hours. She was covered in sweat from head to toe. Twelve hours. The itch was almost painful. If she was free, she would have gnawed her own skin off in order to make it stop. Eighteen hours. She forgot where she was, why she was there, or who the disembodied voices who kept taunting her belonged to. Twenty-two hours. There was nothing. Nothing but the itch. It had always been there and always would be. She was the itch. Twenty-four hours. Darkness.
Did she really sleep? Or were the unconscious breaks between tortures simulated much like everything else in here? By her count it had been four days since the start of this demented experiment but it something felt off about that timescale. She pondered this as she stood snugly bound in a suspended iron cage tailor-made for her shape. She cast her gaze down as much as the cage would allow and saw a pit of oil. Sizzling oil.
“Please! Please, you can’t do this!” she sobbed. “I’ll do anything! Just let me out and I swear I’ll never tell anyone about what happened here! Just please, please, please let me go!”
“Why, my dear Lyle, I think we finally broke her.”
“Yes! And it only took four days!”
“I suppose this means we should stop the experiment, right?”
Loona’s eyes lit up as she dared to hope it was all finally going to be over soon.
“And let all those hours of programming go to waste? Nonsense! We’ll put her through the last three days and then we can stop.”
This is what she got for daring to hope for the end. The poor hellhound broke down crying as the cage slowly descended towards the burning oil.
She could feel the air get hotter and hotter. It was like getting into an over set to the highest temperature. She knew deep down that they wouldn’t kill her, but that was exactly the problem because, at that point, she would rather die than have to keep enduring whatever those maniacs came up with. The could just plunge her down into the oil and get it over with but instead they chose to slowly, very deliberately lower the cage. She was starting to put two and two together and realize the experiment’s true purpose.
It was to break her.
She was an inch away from the boiling surface when the mechanism lowering her stopped with a loud thud.
“Ready, miss?”
“Please… Please, let me out…”
Her pleads fell on deaf ears as the mechanism resumed. The tips of her toes touched the burning oil and the cage rattled with her struggles.
“OW! OW! OW!”
“Does it hurt?”
“YES! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!”
“Good!”
The cage was lowered yet again, fully immersing her paws in the oil. Loona let out a blood-curdling scream.
“AAAAAAAAIEEEEEEE!!”
She could feel everything. She was being fried alive without the privilege of losing sensation on the affected areas. They wanted her to feel it. Every iota of pain that the VR machine was capable of producing.
“STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!” she screamed at the top of her lungs as the cage descended another few inches, putting her knee-deep in the boiling oil.
She would rather be suffocated and take the itching all over again than o through this. By the time everything below her waist was being fried, something in her mind shut off. Any and all higher thinking functions gave way to primal fear and panic. No amount of thinking she was actually fine in the real world could convince her she wasn’t going to die. Hell, no amount of anything helped subside the very real pain she was feeling.
By the time her breasts were dipped in the oil, she became non-verbal. Howling and non-coherent screaming was all the she could muster.
How long had it been? An hour? Two? Ten? It was impossible to know. She had completely lost her sense of time.
“AAAAARGHHH!!!!”
She was in it up to her neck, now, and fully convinced she was going to die. No. She was eager to die. Death meant an end to her suffering. And yet the machine granted her no such luxury.
And then, the cage was fully submerged in the oil. She did not know the true meaning of suffering until every bit of her skin was fried for hours on end. No escape. Not from the cage, not from the torture, not even from her own mind. In the real world, her body was sweating bullets, shaking in the straps of the chair as if having a seizure.
“Vitals?”
“We’re pushing her, but she’ll be fine.”
“Good. Continue.”
Hour after hour, the agonizing torment quite literally seared itself into the remaining shambles of Loona’s mind as, quite simply, the worst thing she had ever felt. She didn’t think her own brain was capable of feeling anything worse than this. Hour after hour, those shambles of her mind were all burned to smithereens which were then ground to ashes and atomized before being cast to the void.
For the fifth time that week, she passed out. Or rather, she was allowed to pass out
“Please… Please, stop… I-I beg you…”
Loona started crying as soon as she regained consciousness. Because being conscious means she wasn’t dead. And not being dead means she would have to endure more torture.
“Just two more days now, Miss! You are doing great!”
“Pleheheaasee….” she sobbed.
This time she was tied to a wooden rack with ropes around her wrists and ankles. Only this rack was abnormally long. Easily over ten meters in length. She could already guess what was going to happen.
“Wakey wakey, Miss! We’re almost done! Just two more days and you get to go home.”
“Let’s not waste any time.”
She heard wood creaking and her suspicions were confirmed. The rack was stretching her limbs. She tensed up and tried to pull back on the rope but it was no use. It pulled her arms up and her legs down. It didn’t take long for it to get painful.
“Hng!!”
She tensed up as her bones began to crack under the pressure. A little more and they would break altogether. In fact, that was an inevitability. By now, she knew the simulation made every demented desire possible without any real risk, so the next step was only logical.
Crack!
“Ah!!”
Her shoulders popped painfully as her arms were stretched beyond their natural limits. Then her hipbones did the same. Then her elbow and knee joints.
“Hnnng!! F-Fuck!”
She was pulled at an agonizingly slow speed, just slow enough to make force her to feel every muscle stretching, every bone popping, every tendon snapping. One would think that, after what she was forced to endure on the days prior, this torture would be nothing for her. Alas, one would be wrong.
“AAHH! ARGHH!!”
SNAP!
The bones on her forearms snapped in half and her arms were now held together only by her skin which, oddly enough, was not being ripped apart like her insides. It’s newfound elasticity was no doubt a property of the simulation.
After an hour of stretching, she had been pulled apart into an unnaturally stretched out shaped. Her bones broke one by one and her organs disconnected themselves from one another.
And she barely covered three meters out of the full ten.
Another hour and she was up to four meters, another and she got to five… This continued until her simulated body stretched out to the full length of the rack. She screamed and sobbed throughout, wishing for an end that she knew wouldn’t come. And then she was left there, fully stretched out, forced to ponder over her own torment, deterred from begging by the knowledge that it would invariably fall on deaf ears.
She remained there and waited… And waited… And waited…
It was almost calm, in a sense. Despite the searing pain of having most of her body stretched and broken beyond what would have been possible in the real world, this was still somewhat more bearable than what she had endured before. At least it wasn’t getting any worse.
So she kept waiting… And waiting… And waiting…
She came to once again, this time bound to a metallic chair much like the one she sat on in the real world.
“Congratulations, Miss! This is your last day in VR!”
She would’ve been happy to hear that but by now she knew better than to dare to have hope.
In front of her, six screens popped into existence one by one. She was confused. Were they going to show her something as part of her last torture?
“We’ve gathered some lovely footage over the last few days and we’d be delighted if you could take a look at it!”
One of the screens flicked to life, showing her on a padded table, a large dildo mounted on a piston lining up to insert itself inside her. She blushed, thinking back to the first day of torture. In retrospect, it really wasn’t so bad considering what she endure on the subsequent days.
And then something unusual happened. The moment the dildo penetrated her in the recording, she realized she could feel it. Her eyes darted to her pelvis and found nothing out of the ordinary. And yet, she felt as if that monstrously sized dildo was parting her labia and forcing itself into her all over again!
Another screen flicked on, showing her tied upside down and surrounded by tickle rollers.
Loona’s eyes widened in fear as she put two and two together and realized why there were six screens in total. That was how many days she had been in there. And the number of tortures she was forced to endure.
As the first screen showed her reaching an orgasm, the second screen showed the start of her tickle-torture.
“Hehehehe!! Nohohoho!”
She laughed as she felt her paws and armpits being assaulted by the fluffy tickle-rollers. Once again, nothing was happening to her on the chair, but she could feel it all the same. The scariest part was that the dildo hadn’t stopped and was close to bringing about her second orgasm, the aftereffect of which would leave her even more sensitive to the tickling.
“GAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOP!!”
She was already losing her mind, both from her current predicament and the thought of how much worse it would get once the other screens were turned on.
The third screen soon came on, showing her struggling in the block of cement as a bag was slipped over her head, blocking off her airflow completely.
She wanted to laugh and moan from the pleasure and tickles, but found her airways completely cut off. This set off an immense panic inside her.
*No! Not this again, *she thought.
Oddly enough, she could feel herself breathe fine, but somehow still felt as if she could not. A paradoxical state that was only possible within that demented simulation.
The fourth screen came on. She saw the rough shape of a hellhound protruding from a latex frame. Then the hellhound started wriggling within the latex and she felt an itch between her toes. She would have screamed if she could breath.
The fifth screen came on, showing Loona in a cage, suspended over a lake of boiling oil.
Somehow she really managed to scream. By now, she had been brought to her fifth orgasm, making her body beyond sensitive to both tickling and itching, the former sensation did nothing to subdue the latter which by now spread all over her lower body. Her lungs burned and her heart throbbed from an apparent lack of air that, unfortunately for her, could not be fatal within the simulation.
Finally, the sixth screen came on, showing her bound to that ridiculously long stretching rack.
At the height of each individual torture, her mind brain became completely overloaded with sensation. The pleasure, the tickling, the itching, the suffocating, the burning, the stretching… It was all too much. Loona could only sob and struggle uselessly as she was forced to relive her week of torture.
“Why I think now we have truly broken her mind, Lyle!”
“It would appear so. Even if we were to release her now I’m afraid there wouldn’t be much left of her mind.”
No… They couldn’t…
“It would be better to keep her here as a permanent subject, don’t you think?”
No! Please, Lucifer, no!
“Yes, I think so too. It’s not often we manage to bag a hellhound for experimentation.”
She did not believe them. She refused to! No one could be that cruel. She just need to get through this and she would finally be free! Yes, she had to believe that! Ten hours… Twelve hours… She was halfway through! Twenty… Twenty-two… It felt beyond awful but she could push through! Twenty-three… She was almost free!
Twenty-four hours. She was out like a light.
The world slowly came back into focus. The real world. She sat on the chair unbound and able to stand up - which she promptly did only to sit down immediately after as her legs gave out from weakness. It was only natural after all they put her through… which was what, exactly? She couldn’t remember. All she had were faint feelings of pleasure and relaxation with no specific memories to link them to.
“So, Miss. How was it?” said the tall, caped man clutching the back of his right hand firmly within the palm of his left.
“It was… good, I guess. I feel kind of relaxed.”
“Wonderful! Your memory might be a bit foggy but that’s perfectly normal. Boy, you were having a blast in there!” the man exclaimed.
“I was?”
“Indeed!” the smaller, rounder man came into view, closely examining a sheet of paper. “Your dopamine readings were off the charts! You had the time of your life in there.”
She felt something was off, but with no real recollection of what had happened within the machine’s virtual world, she had nothing to go off of other than the scientist’s claims, so she chose to believe them.
“I don’t normally do this,” the taller man said, rubbing his hands together, “but would you consider coming back in a few weeks a longer stay? Say… a month? We will have tweaked the program until then so it’ll be even better!”
Whatever suspicion the offer might have aroused was pushed aside by another type of arousal that came seemingly out of nowhere. The hellhound smiled.
“I would love to!”