Authors: Bruce McLachlan
Tags: #chimera, #erotic, #bruce mclachlan, #fetish, #ebook, #fiction, #domination, #submission, #damsel in distress, #cp, #corporal punishment, #spanking, #BDSM, #S&M, #leather, #bondage
Beyond Charybdis first published in 2002 by Chimera Books Ltd. Published as an eBook in 2011 by Chimera Books Ltd
Chimera a creation of the imagination, a wild fantasy
Digital Edition Converted and Published by
Andrews UK Limited
This novel is fiction - in real life practice safe sex
This eBook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The characters and situations in this eBook are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright Bruce McLachlan. The right of Bruce McLachlan to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.
It could have been months or years since she was sent into the ocean as a helpless slave, hidden from view by the machinations of a vengeful Titan. Mina's mind was numb, her thoughts dull and indistinct. Her visage now that of a lowly beast it was as if her psyche had decided to follow suit and adopt a lower form of sentience.
Each day forced the same repetitive trauma on her mind. She swam amongst the lowest reaches of the coral travelling to the various valves whose locations she had memorised to receive her bodily sustenance. The valves were frugal suppliers, refusing to grant a refill for at least an hour. When she stumbled upon a port recently used by another of her eel sisters, she had to quickly rush to a different site before her paltry supply of air ran out.
Sleep was impossible except for brief, light naps. The beeping always woke her and prompted her to slither to a valve in order to prolong her miserable existence. The constant deprivation of prolonged rest speeded her descent into a bestial mentality, robbing her of all motivation except survival. The need to find her owners became a distant memory only half recalled when she caught sight of the fish swimming freely above or stumbled upon a Titan playing with Nymphs amongst the rocks.
Mina swiftly discovered that such recreation was not for her because all the eel women were of the electrified breed. Should they be handled they, and the person trying to access them, would be subjected to vivid shocks channelled through subtle circuits located both inside and outside their secondary skins. No one dared touch them, depriving them of all contact and denying them any sensual pleasure save the endless steady but feeble rocking of their dildo as they swung their legs against the currents.
Yet strangely enough, the absence of sensation and the unrelenting bondage did not trouble Mina, but instead afforded her a sense of security. The endless routine never wavered, never offered any surprises, and she could soothe herself with the arousing notion that somewhere some mysterious Titan was thinking of her, titillating himself with the knowledge that she was suffering for her crimes.
She missed the lack of carnal pain and pleasure, but her severe bondage almost made up for it. The one thing she truly missed was the weather, for the seasons of the abyssal deep never altered. She often dwelt on what it would be like to feel the elements again, to feel rain on her face and the wind in her hair and the sun on her naked skin. She longed to see the sky and the clouds.
At some point in the uncertain longevity of her rubber imprisonment and its resulting mental and physical devolution, Mina spied something never before seen in the oceans. In the distance, she spotted a dark shape moving beyond the perimeter of the lights as she skirted the farthest reaches of the garden. After finding several used valves, her quest for air was diverted outwards, sending her places into which few other eels had ventured.
Mina found herself in an area where the plants and the coral thinned and gave way to shadows, broken areas of dark rock and grey sand, the wall of utter blackness beyond them a most ominous sight. Only a few of the most hardy and monstrous species managed to thrive there, little fiends of the deep that kept well away from the garden as light was a terrible blight to their crushed and frozen anatomies.
Spotting a valve, she slotted herself onto it and gained a full measure of air before lifting away and peering more leisurely at the large shape hanging in the distance touched by only a few weak rays of stray light. Risking a closer look, she paddled forward, leaving the flourishing garden behind her. The waters began getting colder as the temperature plummeted towards sub zero hell.
Suddenly, she spotted the broken outline of a floating submersible. The deep-sea pod was a crooked contraption made up of mechanical arms, pipes, tanks and bulbous windows, a steel beast that came to life abruptly as she watched. Several soft lights rose to brilliance along its sides as its propellers gave sudden flurries of motion, gouging at the waters and turning it about towards her.
With a startled squeal, she jerked around and rushed away, only to cry out against her gag again as the headlights of the sub flashed to their full brilliance, paining her eyes and filling her world with a pure white sheet. Incapacitated, she lurched unevenly, her equilibrium lost, her sense of direction completely compromised. She flung her legs against her costume, trying to get away while hoping she was not heading deeper out to sea. If she went too far she would not be able to get back before her air ran out and hypothermia set in.
A metal fist closed twin pincers around her calves. With a desperate wriggle she slipped away from them, but they caught her ankles next, compressing them and taking firm hold of her. Flinging herself frantically against her suit and the anchor, she was suddenly plunged back into darkness as the sub cut off its lights while towing her away. The lights of the garden dimmed as the vessel banked and ducked into a series of outlying trenches. Panicked, she continued fighting to free herself, fearful she would be held until she perished, her body left floating in black waters where no one would ever find her.
Something snapped to her faceplate, locking to the valve that fed her, and the waters began getting warmer as she found herself thrashing inside some sort of container. The clamps at her ankles gave way then, and a moment later she heard the sound of something closing and locking into place as once more a sudden bright light blinded her eyes. Blinking wildly, she discerned a globe just slightly wider than her body surrounding her; a transparent shell reinforced from without by riveted bands. A heavy articulated cable had been set to her faceplate, reaching down into the steel base of the golden fish bowl, where small vents regulated the water level and temperature. She was inside the craft as a detachable part of it, but she could not see into the vessel for her bubble was like a cargo container located halfway down its spine.
Circling impotently within her new claustrophobic world, Mina watched the ocean floor fall away as their ascent carried them out of the trenches, allowing them to travel far from the complex. All about her was darkness; she could see and hear nothing. She did not know if she was being stolen or liberated or being taken in for questioning by someone intent on exposing the Charybdis Project. A thousand possibilities rushed through her mind, none of them helping to soothe her frayed nerves.
Then light began filling the waters around them and she glimpsed the ocean life characteristic of the upper reaches of the Pacific. Horrifying visions of explosive decompression plagued her as she continued upwards, but she could feel no change in the water pressure. The bubble in which she floated was clearly protecting.
Sunlight dazzled her eyes, and she sobbed with joy as its golden aura exploded into thousands of brilliant stars as the sub broke through the surface of the waves. Water poured down her sealed dome through which she glimpsed the light-blue vault of the sky with a few white clouds scattered by the wind. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Then she saw the large ship, and when the sub reached it several men in dark overalls dropped down and began fastening the hook of a crane to the craft. They signalled to the operator and she was lifted from the water, swung round and placed gently on the deck.
Mina felt horribly embarrassed and exposed as the crew stared at her with a mixture of awe and bewilderment - a latex-bound woman swimming inside a bowl sent to gather specimens from the deep.
Unable to hear them, she watched as her cell was quickly drawn over to a chute in the deck. The seal was locked to the base of her prison, and suddenly the bottom of the dome opened up. Bubbles launched from the floor and the water level began falling rapidly, robbing Mina of the realm in which she could move. She flapped helplessly against the bottom of the bowl as her head emerged from water for the first time in what felt like forever. Struggling to move she felt a tremendous weight descend on her, the return to gravity making her realise just how dependent she had become on her fluid environment.
Once the waters were gone, the base of the bowl opened completely and she slipped down into the small chute, her latex form sliding smoothly against the steel. The cable detached from her faceplate as she began her descent and she flowed down the slender pathway, traversing the long slide until she eventually came to a stop at a slight angle and rested against a hatch.
The lowest part of the chute was slightly wider than the rest of it, and she soon realised why when four panels opened and mechanised arms emerged. The dull teeth tore through her latex shell, but only brushed her skin with a tickling sensation. The saws cut through her prison as a set of steel hands took hold of her and, with some awkward motions, managed to turn her over so her back could be exposed. Her tank was extracted and her latex cocoon slid away from her.
Mina gurgled and sobbed as her arms came free, her numb limbs dropping uselessly to her sides, condemned to immobility for too long to be of any immediate use to her. She tried to pull them up to her face to haul her gag free, but they refused to respond to her mental commands.
The dildo slithered from her tracts and the collar vanished, whereupon her head lolled weakly. Laying slack across the floor, her legs and torso the only working parts of her, the mechanical hands grabbed her gag and drew it away, the hoses paying out of her nostrils and mouth finally popping free. She coughed and nearly retched before sucking down a breath of genuine fresh air. It felt cold and sharp and hurt her lungs, which had been force-fed for so long that they were taken aback by what real air tasted like.
The hatch beneath her head suddenly opened with a hydraulic growl and she tumbled out onto steel deck plates.
Looking around with her eyes wide, she found herself in a decompression chamber. The small room contained a single bunk bed, a basin and a toilet, and the steel walls offered one small, reinforced porthole.
Fighting to move, Mina slowly managed to haul her wet form up using the bed frame as a handhold and support. Her shoulder-length hair hung in moist strands past her shoulders, revealing just how long she had been imprisoned as an eel.
Pulling herself up onto the bed, she collapsed across the sheets with a groan of rapture. She had forgotten how good it was to smell something as she inhaled the delicious scent of fresh cotton sheets.
Giggling weakly with joy, she drifted into a deep and contented sleep.
With a cry of terror, she hurled herself against the smothering arms of latex transforming her into an eel... and woke to find herself covered in perspiration and lying across a bed, naked and free.
Yet now she was lying comfortably across a bed, her previous incarceration felt like a treasure to be held and revered. Pulling the sheet over her she closed her eyes and let her hand drift between her legs. The slight pressure of her fingertips against her clitoris had it erupting with long denied sensation, and her climax was strong and succulent, making her shudder against the mattress.
Afterwards she managed to sit up and explore her small world. A pair of white panties and a vest she had failed to notice before lay at the foot of the bed. She slid into them slowly, and the tight cotton clung to her, emphasising her curves in an erotic fashion.
Then she managed to stand up and found a hot meal in the airlock hatch. Her throat felt chafed by the passage of solid sustenance as opposed to the nutrient sludge she had lived on for so long, but her tongue was in ecstasy.
After eating, and both struggling with and relishing every bite, she began trying to exercise her limbs back into shape. It riled her to find herself so feeble in comparison to how strong she had been before her imprisonment as an eel.
With nothing else to occupy her, she applied herself to the task of reconditioning her body. She exercised and worked out constantly, stopping only to eat and sleep. She washed in the basin and devoted herself single-mindedly to the regime of muscle development. She practiced old moves, trying to recapture her lightning reflexes and killer instincts, but her skills were rusty.
She thought often of Atlas and her owners, of Charybdis and the Titans and the various acts she had been forced to perform. It kept her in a constant state of sexual arousal, which was only intensified by the anxiety of wondering who had fished her out of the depths and what they planned to do with her.
Mina knew she had a masochistic streak and more than a casual taste for fetishism, but she had assumed her tastes had been influenced by her surroundings. She had believed that if she left the complex and returned to the real world she could wean herself back to normalcy. Clearly, she had underestimated the profound level of the indoctrination visited upon her. The project had branded new lusts deep into her soul where she could not expel them.
She tried to fill her mind with more banal fantasies, but every time she pictured normal lovemaking with a man or woman they invariably became vengeful dominants clad in latex or vinyl tying her down and whipping her before pleasuring their gagged and struggling slave.
The religious rebuilding of her physique was the only stabilising force in her life, helping to keep her from dwelling too much on the past. Yet every day and night when she was not exercising herself into exhaustion, even in her dreams she wallowed in memories of her subjugation to others. The remembered blend of pain and pleasure was a potent narcotic, and she had been rendered a hapless addict who craved it more and more with every passing moment. She would not know what to do with herself if she had been rescued by some normal agency. She now longed for a life of bondage, and Charybdis was the only person who could give it to her. She could not betray his secrets. But if the complex had been discovered and was under surveillance, surely its end was approaching.