From: elf@coho.halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.bondage,alt.sex.motss
Subject: Journal Entry 245/0519  [ Lynn's Birthday ]
Date: 22 Nov 1994 16:26:34 GMT
Organization: Northwest Nexus Inc.
Lines: 294
Message-ID: <3at63q$r6c@news.halcyon.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: coho.halcyon.com

Hiss 4, 0519

	The broad outdoor patio was filled with sunlight, a glowing hot 
day illuminating the world around me.  From here I had a beautifully 
clear view of the entire valley.  Which, in retrospect, may have been 
a mistake; sure, I could see the whole Rhysh from here, but that also 
meant I could see behind the scenes.  Although, Pendorian technology 
being what it was, that meant I could see just a few small concrete 
bunkers hiding the accesses.  It wasn't that much, and I guess only 
an engineer would have really found them.

	But what occupied my thoughts was that I could not for the life 
of me figure out what Lynn had in mind.  Lynn is the AI that runs 
Castle Rhysh, here on the westward-most edge of Backwater, the 
enormous theme park of Pendor, for people who just don't want to hack 
reality for a few days, months, or years.  Rhysh is Pendor's sexual 
playground, a place full of people in roles of masters and servants, 
all carefully dressed in outrageous modes of dress from the 
hypermodern and plasticene to the very ancient and cumbersome.  One 
of the more popular ways of restraining the 'slaves' recently was to 
simply dress them in nearly thirty kilos of hoops, corsets, and such.  
Nobody runs very fast when carrying thirty kilos.

	But the note she had sent me was so cryptic.  "Come to Castle 
Rhysh on the ninth of Urime' for an evening you will never forget.  
Go to the southern patio on the fifth floor."

	I was drinking from a snifter something not quite brandy.  It 
was quite tasty though.  Earlier I had seen a couple go by, two 
females, a Markal in a gorgeous black cape leading a Mephit about by 
a black leather leash.  The Mephit had, as Mephits go, astoundingly 
large breasts, restrained and emphasized by a tightly-laced bodice 
made of gleaming leather.  Now in Rhysh, this is usually no big deal.  
But what seized my attention as they walked by was the splash of 
brilliant red at the Mephit's throat.  I focused on it and it 
resolved into a rose, the stem leading downward and held between 
those breasts.  I wondered, as they walked by, if I should hope or 
fear the stem still had its thorns.

	They were long out of sight when I decided thorns were a bad 
idea.

	The shadow of night (that's not a metaphor on Pendor) was 
crawling closer, and I was starting to get just a little bored when a 
small, delicate hand wrapped itself around the back of my neck and 
squeezed tight, the fingernails digging just a little bit into my 
throat.  "Don't move, and don't say a word."

	The voice was feminine and very familiar, but I could not place 
it for the life of me.  I waited.

	The voice came close, and into my ear she whispered, "You know, 
Ken, in all the years I've known you, you have never, ever bottomed 
to a woman.  Well, tonight, you're mine.  Oh, don't worry, you'll get 
your chance to enjoy a little masculinity, Kennet, but I want you to 
know that I'm your Mistress tonight, and you, no matter what happens, 
are my plaything."

	I closed my eyes.  She knew me... who was she?  "May as well 
dispense with the formalities, Kennet, and give you a safeword... why 
not just the usual?  Very well... your safeword is- 'safeword.'  That 
should be easy enough for even you to remember."

	I decided to keep quiet.  I was intrigued.  "If I let you go, 
will you obey me?"

	Inside, I fought over the idea; being a bottom is something that 
I usually do only with men.  But I decided to go through with it.  
"Yes, Mistress."  The words came with difficulty.  This was rather 
new to me.

	"Good.  I had my doubts.  Stand."  The last word was an order, 
and I complied, despite the odd inertia, the will to resist, inside 
me.  It required thought that I actually stand and obey a... a woman.

	"Turn."  I turned around and looked at my new... mistress.  Her 
face was familiar.  I looked closely at her, examining her face.  
"Lynn?" I said.

	She slapped me sharply across the cheek, but her voice was calm 
as she spoke.  "Eyes down, slave."

	"Yes, mistress," I answered, complying.

	"But, yes, you're right, Ken.  I have gone for a transfer.  I'm 
not an AI anymore, and Rowan will be doing my job.  I decided that 
you should be the first to know."  Her voice took on a tone of 
amusement.  "Except for my own staff, of course.  Come!"

	I assumed that was an order to follow her, and she led me back 
into the castle.  We delved deeper into the Castle, into areas the 
sun could not reach and so torches sputtered on the walls.  "In 
here," she said.

	I walked through the door in front of her, into a large room 
with six tables.  On two of them were strapped down, on their backs, 
a melSatryl, and that gorgeous femMephit with the enormous breasts I 
had seen earlier, both now naked but for a sash of cloth over their 
genitals.  "Strip, and lie on that one," she said, pointing to the 
third table in the row.  I followed her order, lying down on the 
table and waiting.  She strapped me down, securing me to the table 
completely, straps over my legs, knees, thighs.  Fetters to the 
wrists, additional straps over each arm.  A sash similar to the 
others was laid across my genitalia.  The table was thickly padded, 
like a massage table, and I was... comfortable, as comfortable as 
someone can be strapped down as I was.

	Lynn loomed over the table and said, "You look so cute.  You've 
no idea how long I thought this out, thinking over all of the little 
games I'd been able to watch you play, with Aaden, Kritt, Borodir, 
and the others."  She smiled.  "It's given me a lot of ideas."  She 
ran a finger  along my lips.  "Oooh, don't talk," she cooed, "that 
pretty little mouth of your has such a long night ahead of it.

	She put a finger aside her cheek.  "I suppose I could have had 
anyone; imagine: the caretaker, the owner, the very core of Rhysh 
coming out of her silicon shell and having a heart, a brain, and 
courage."  She smiled at her little joke.  "And stepping out as a 
mistress certainly does take courage.  You've got it so very easy, 
Kennet, being such a... bottomless bottom.  Your little scene with 
Kathy was very surprising."  She leaned over and pressed her lips to 
mine, gently and sweetly.  "I've mastered walking and talking... that 
was my first kiss.  You should feel very privileged."

	"Tonight there will be a party, theoretically in my honor.  
Rowan has been doing my voice for almost a year now, and only the 
AI's know the changeover has occurred.  And Ember, your little 
daughter- she knows.  And now, these two, although their masters 
don't know it.  It's going to be something of a birthday celebration, 
Ken, and you are going to be one of the centerpieces."

	She left me there, with the other two slaves strapped down to 
tables, and I wondered.  I wasn't worried about being left alone; I 
was never really alone, in Rhysh; the AI was watching.  I was stunned 
by the little turn of events, though.  Lynn, human?  As an AI her 
eldar-los- faunos had always been that of a tall, blond human woman, 
but she never once mentioned wanting to actually move into a human 
body.  And who the Hell was Rowan?  I didn't know anyone named Rowan.  
Was she just born?

	And what had she meant by her "That mouth of yours has a long 
night ahead of it?"


	By now we were six when a new, unrecognized voice came over the 
speakers in our little room.  "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, my 
name is A.I. Rowan Masters, and I am your hostess for this evening.  
I know you expected to hear Lynn's voice tonight as this event is in 
her honor, but we have other plans.  Gentles, I present to you H. 
Lynn Masters, on this, her birthday."

	There was a general sound of surprise, some of shock, and a 
scattering of whistles.

	"Good evening.  Thank you for your enthusiasm.  Tonight, in the 
common sense of Rhysh, I would like to declare this a party of the 
usual proportions.  I will join in, neither mastering nor being 
mastered.  This is my first day in public.  I want to simply eat, and 
listen, and touch, and taste."

	The intercom went off, and the six of us were left in the dark.  
Time passed.

	I don't know how long.  I would be willing to guess it was an 
hour and a half, maybe a little longer, maybe a little less.  The 
door swung open and six people walked in, one to each of the tables 
in question.  My overseer was a tall, carefully groomed Uncia who 
grinned at me.  He reached under the table and pulled out a two-meter 
stick, held it up against the edge of the table.  He examined it 
carefully, reached under the table and I heard a hydraulic hissing 
sound as the table dropped several cm.

	Apparently he was satisfied with the height.  He reached under 
the table and unlatched something.  The table rolled freely now, and 
he pushed me out into the hallway.  The trip took some time; in fact 
we used an elevator.  When we finally reached the outer edge of the 
castle it was clearly nighttime.  The Uncia rolled us out into the 
main Hall of the castle, and although I could not see very much, it 
was clearly a very loud party in full swing.  I could hear sounds of 
a whipping in one corner, very loud and replete with an occasional 
scream.  There were other sounds, moans, shouts, orders being given.  
There must have been hundreds of people around, from the vast array 
of noise.  As we were being wheeled to the center of the room a burst 
of maniacal laughter exploded from somewhere.

	The Uncia wheeled my table to a large floorspace cleared in one 
corner of the hall; I was familiar with the beautiful tile work done 
by the Carazzio artisans, and I wished very much I could see the 
floor now, but my mistress had other plans for me.  Funny... 'my 
mistress.'  That's still a new one for me.

	He reached under the table and tightened the wheels again, then 
walked around to the head of the table and reached under the platform 
I lay upon.  There was a 'clack' of two bolts being pulled free and 
the head of the platform lowered down, my head thrown back.  The pad 
was comfortable... No, oh no.  I knew now what I was, tonight, and I 
knew what Lynn had meant by her comment.

	My head was thrown back not so far as to be uncomfortable, but 
far enough that the muscles that normally kept the mouth closed 
against gravity were pulled, and held it open.  The Uncia looked down 
at me with a wicked grin and said, "Now you're getting it.  Be sure 
not to bite anyone... at least, as long as they don't want to be 
bit."

	I rolled my eyes, and then Lynn's voice interrupted any comment 
I might have said had I been allowed to speak.  "Excuse me... but as 
promised, tonight the five slaves who won last week's little 
contest-" (WHAT contest?)- "have indeed been arranged over in the 
northwest corner of the Hall.  Oh, but there are six there, aren't 
there?  The sixth I added, as is my right as the new and reigning 
Queen of this Castle.  He's an old and dear friend.  Some of you may 
even recognize him.  Please treat him... gently."

	The first person to stand in front of me was a young melHuman 
with a thick, short cock.  I was exactly at crotch level for his 
height... He smiled down at me and said, "So you're Lynn's own 
personal plaything, eh?  Let's see if you're as good as the other 
five are supposed to be."

	He played his cock over my lips and slowly slid it into my 
mouth, plying deeper and deeper.  Cocksucking is something I do very 
rarely, but I like to think I'm good at it.  This was different, but 
I had yet to say, or for that matter think, the safeword.  I knew 
Rowan could hear it if she needed to.  But now that I knew my role in 
tonight's events, I resolved to finish the night, or pass out trying.

	I closed my eyes and tasted his cock, my tongue resting against 
the top of him.  He slid a little deeper and I enjoyed the taste, his 
cock plying down into my throat, made a straight line by the simple 
yet ingenious little table.  This was what the table, the restraints, 
were all about.

	He began to rock back and forth, fucking my mouth with his cock.  
I made the mistake of opening my eyes for a second; I got a glimpse 
of the massive hall full of sentients playing their games before I 
was slapped in the face by my lover's balls.  He slid deeper into my 
throat, and I greedily gobbled up his dick, feeling it stretch my 
throat on each soft thrust, and he slid back and forth again and 
again until he groaned quietly, his cock holding still but for the 
pulsing of his orgasm.  I swallow, and Lynn knows it.

	He was replaced by a Markal female, who at least gave me the 
pleasure of a kiss before rubbing her cunt up against my lips and 
demanding, rather imperiously, that I eat her until she said stop.  
She must have come several times before she finally got up off of me.

	I heard her say, "Wait, let him rest for a minute," as she got 
up.  After that I heard moans coming from around me, gentle slurping 
noises from the table to my right, loud groans from the left; the 
tables creaked with activity.

	The night went on like this, men, women, even a Ssphynx female 
who needed an additional table rolled up so she could get to me.  
Cocks slid down my throat (which got quite used to all the activity), 
cunts slid along my lips, even a sweetly clean ass or two demanding 
to be kissed and licked.  Male, female, skinned or furry, I was a toy 
for all comers.  A few masters and mistresses insisting (ha!) that I 
treat their slaves, but only to the point of frustration.  Aaden even 
went by, but didn't take advantage of my condition; he just grinned 
and said hello.

	The party wound down, and after a while the breaks I was 
receiving between players grew longer, and longer, until finally I 
think I could have counted on that one (I honestly don't remember 
what species he was... but at least I'm sure it was a he.  It was all 
a big blur by then.) being the last one.  After a while, a sweet, 
short femCenatur came over and righted the platform.

	I was stiff, and I was happy.  I felt like an urban legend, with 
a pint of semen inside me.  She wheeled me out to yet a new room, 
untied my straps and helped me to bed.  I was tired; at times I had 
gotten so wrapped up in my many lovers' orgasms that I had tensed 
against the bonds, exhausting myself uselessly, bucking back further 
to take that last one millimetre.

	The Centaur tucked me in, an ear to ear smile on her face as she 
kissed me on the forehead.  "Goodnight, Father," she said.

	"Please don' call me tha'," I mumbled.  I doubt she heard it, 
and I was glad for that; she was being so very nice to me.  I must 
have fallen asleep immediately thereafter; I don't remember anything 
else that night.
 
--
"Lynn's Birthday"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al. 
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