The Promise of the Holodeck

Part 7: The Consequences of the Game

In an instant, the idyllic meadow vanished, dragging with it the soft grass and warm sun, not like a scene change, but as if reality itself were crumbling. The puppy suit, a second skin of nanolatex that had adhered to every curve of her body, didn't disintegrate into a bright light, but dissolved with a cold sigh, a chilling sensation that spread from her hardened nipples to the base of her spine. Lindsey was left standing, naked and vulnerable in an absolute void, where the air smelled of ozone and the promise of a calculated pain. The silence of the holodeck was heavier than any sound, a silence that vibrated with a sinister anticipation.

Morgana, now dressed in her picnic outfit, materialized in front of her without a single flash, as if she had always been there. A glacial smile pulled at her lips. "You agreed to play the game by my rules," she said, and her voice was not a sound, but a resonance that traveled through Lindsey's bones. "How many of my rules did you violate, Lindsey?"

The shame felt like an iron fist in Lindsey's throat. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, unable to face Morgana's relentless gaze. "Two," she murmured, barely audible. "But…". The words died on her lips. She knew pleading was useless, that every excuse would only intensify the punishment. Morgana's gaze was an abyss of ice that expected no mercy, but a confession.

"Tell me, Lindsey, do you agree that you deserve the consequences for breaking my rules?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper inviting her to submission. Lindsey felt a shiver of helplessness. She knew the game. She bowed her head, her loose hair partially covering her face. "Yes," she replied in a voice barely audible. "I can't hear you, Lindsey. The confession must be clear and strong."

"Yes, I broke the rules and I deserve a punishment." The words came out of her mouth, not out of conviction, but out of a painful pragmatism. Submission was the quickest way to end the agony. Morgana didn't punish by programming, but for pleasure. She enjoyed every moment, and that truth was more terrifying than any riding crop.

Morgana took a step closer, the sound of her boots breaking the silence like the echo of a hammer. "Last time, your punishment was quick and brutal. I still enjoy the sound of the different instruments striking your virgin body. It was a true pleasure," she whispered, and a shiver ran down Lindsey's spine. "But this time," she continued, "I want it to be not hard, but lasting. I want to savor every hour of your punishment."

Upon hearing the word hours, Lindsey's heart twisted into a knot of pure terror. Hours. Her body, still exhausted from the previous simulation, began to tremble uncontrollably. Morgana noticed and a smile of pure delight spread across her face, like a predator seeing its prey tremble.

"Don't be afraid, Lindsey. Since the faults were in extreme situations, I'll be lenient. In addition to pain, there will also be pleasure mixed in. I think I feel like something classic."

Saying this, a flogging bench, forged in dark leather and metal, appeared in the center of the holodeck. Its straps hung like waiting snakes. Lindsey backed away, her bare feet almost sticking to the floor. The mix of tanned leather and nanolatex from the straps overwhelmed her; it was a terrifying duality, a promise of mechanical pain and animal pleasure. Her mind screamed "No, please!", but her mouth remained sealed by a submission that already felt as natural as breathing. Morgana, reading her body language, spoke to her with an unsettling calm. "Lindsey, come. It's best to start." Lindsey's voice broke into a whisper. "Computer…," but before she could complete the command, Morgana interrupted her.

"Lindsey, you're smart. You've seen it many times. If you say the command, the punishment will double. Think, child, remember, analyze. You have no escape."

Logic, which had been her only defense, abandoned her. Morgana didn't need an excuse to control her; she controlled her de facto. She closed her eyes and, in an instant, everything she had denied was revealed with a dazzling clarity. She remembered that Morgana appeared alone, without a voice command, and that the simulations closed when she decided, not when Lindsey ordered. It was an unprecedented degree of freedom for a holodeck program. And that's when she understood: Morgana was not her program, she was the owner of the holodeck. She was her jailer, and Lindsey had no power. That truth, so simple and horrible, had always been there, hidden in plain sight. In that moment, Lindsey collapsed to her knees, the air escaping her lungs like a silent scream.

Morgana knelt, her face inches from Lindsey's, with a smile of pure satisfaction. "My intelligent child, yet so trusting and blind to what was in plain sight. But Lindsey, I am only here to guide you. When you enter the holodeck, you accept my guidance. It has always been this way from the beginning, you just didn't want to see it. I know pain is scary, but it's only temporary. You know, and I know, that you enjoy the whole journey, even the pain. Or am I wrong?" Lindsey didn't answer, but a part of her knew that the last revelation was the most terrifying of all. Morgana was right.

"I know it's scary, but I know you enjoy it. Now let's go to the bench, your punishment awaits," Morgana said, rising gracefully.

Slowly, as if in a trance, Lindsey got up and lay on the bench. Morgana said nothing, giving her time to process the truth. The silence in the holodeck was oppressive, and the only sound was the soft whisper of the straps. Despite the fear, Lindsey felt a surge of excitement. Morgana knelt to tie her up, and the sensation of the cold leather against her naked skin, and the pressure of the buckles, made her nipples harden. When she finished securing her ankles, hands, and knees, Lindsey was completely motionless. Her breasts, large and heavy, fell over the edge of the bench, the sensitive skin of her areolas stretching with gravity.

Morgana knelt in front of her, holding two bands of black nanolatex. "Do you know what these are?" she asked, with a perverse sweetness. "These bands will go at the base of your breasts. They will make them very sensitive, ideal for being punished." Morgana began to place them with an exasperating slowness, as if she were decorating a work of art. The pressure increased, and Lindsey felt the blood pulsing and the veins marking under her skin. When she finished with the left breast, the right had already acquired a bluish hue. "Look, your breasts are already bluish, and it's just the beginning. It will be very exciting to hit them," her voice broke into a dry, hollow laugh that filled the holodeck.

Then, Morgana got up and went to a tray of instruments that had appeared by her side. From it, she took out nipple clamps, something Lindsey had never seen. "And these little things go on your nipples. They squeeze them, and weight can be added. We'll start with something light." Lindsey tried to refuse with her head, but before she could utter a protest, Morgana cut her off with an icy voice. "You can scream, cry, but if you talk, I'll have to gag you, and then it will only be punishment without pleasure. You decide."

Lindsey shut her mouth abruptly and looked at her with helpless fury. "That's it! That look... that's my Lindsey." Then, she braided a single lock of long hair from Lindsey's head, and tied it to a nanolatex band she had taken from a compartment.

She returned to the tray and took out a metal hook with a fairly large metal ball. "This is called an anal hook, and you can imagine where it goes." She introduced the anal hook, previously lubricated, with humiliating ease. The band was tied to the hook, pulling on it and forcing Lindsey to raise her head to look forward, her eyes filled with hate and terror.

Morgana stood in front of her. "How careless of me," she said, her voice tinged with mockery. "I put all those toys on you and look at my outfit. I think it's a bit out of place."

Morgana's picnic outfit dissolved in the light of the holodeck, revealing the leather suit from that morning. The image made Morgana's words, "I want to torture you for hours," resonate in her mind. Tears of frustration began to fall in torrents, hot against her cheeks. A horsehair flogger appeared in Morgana's right hand, but something else changed. The black strap-on appeared at her waist, the same size as the one she had used on her when she lost her virginity. The image of the penetration, mixed with the torture, made a shiver of excitement run through her body.

Morgana began to walk slowly around Lindsey, hitting different parts of her body with the whip, with blows that became faster and stronger. The smell of leather and sweat permeated the air. At first, Lindsey only cried, a mix of helplessness, humiliation, and pain. But as the blows increased in intensity, the crying turned into guttural screams. The whip fell on her flesh with a sound that was both a dry crack and a wet thud. Morgana paused for an instant, savoring the sound, and then continued, hitting mercilessly. Her breasts and areolas were flogged, as were the soles of her feet, her thighs, and her arms. The red marks of the whip stood out on Lindsey's pale skin, a sadistic work of art.

Then, Morgana took a long flogger. She ran it over Lindsey's vagina, and it became soaked with a thick, whitish liquid, smelling of desperate arousal. Morgana knelt in front of Lindsey and asked her, with a voice full of irony: "Did you enjoy it?" Lindsey shook her head, but Morgana showed her the flogger. "Your body says otherwise. Please, clean my flogger, because I need to use it for you denying the truth." She brought the tip to her mouth. "Clean it," she ordered. Lindsey, feeling her will completely dissolve, obeyed.

Morgana smiled with satisfaction. She began to flog her breasts and areolas, mercilessly, until they turned a deep scarlet. "Tomorrow they will be a deep purple, I promise you," she whispered. And she continued hitting, despite Lindsey's screams. When she saw them red enough, she put down the flogger and took the horsehair whip. Lindsey was now a sea of tears.

Morgana aimed the strap-on at her vagina and penetrated her without any problem. Lindsey's natural lubricant had created a puddle between her legs. The sound was watery, a detail Morgana did not let pass without further humiliation. "What a dirty, horny bitch," she told her, with a voice full of contempt.

Then, she began long, smooth thrusts. With each thrust, she brought the whip down on her back. Lindsey's moans of pleasure began to increase, and Morgana increased the speed of the thrusts and the blows at the same rate. Pleasure and pain merged into a sensory storm. The first orgasm was an explosion that made her scream, but Morgana didn't stop. She had one goal: to overwhelm her. The orgasms continued arriving relentlessly, one after another, until Lindsey no longer moaned, but only writhed on the bench. Her body, completely exhausted, could no longer bear the assault of sensations. With a final groan of exhaustion, she fainted.

The Awakening and the Gift of Possession

The fainting was not a total void, but a fall into an abyss of fragmented sensations. Lindsey's consciousness shattered and then slowly pieced itself back together. There was no darkness, just a whirlwind of colors swirling around her. She could feel her body, a symphony of dull pain and burning in the bruised areas, but also a distant echo of a pleasure that had consumed her. She heard Morgana's voice, soft as cotton but hard as granite. "Wake up, my child. We still have so much to explore. Pain is just the door to ecstasy. It's the path that will lead you to me." The voice faded, and Lindsey felt a chill on her skin. The scent of ozone was overwhelming again. She woke up, the light of the holodeck seemed unbearably bright. She was in a four-poster bed, tied in a cross, face up. Her limbs were immobilized, stretched and held to the bedposts with thick nanolatex straps that left her completely defenseless. Morgana, now dressed in a black silk robe, looked at her like a sculptor examining a half-finished work.

"Now we will learn and finish my art. Did you enjoy the orgasms, Lindsey?" Morgana gave her permission to speak with a gesture.

Tears fell from her eyes again. "Yes," she replied in a broken, humiliated voice. "Why? Why is this happening to me? How can I enjoy it this way?"

Morgana knelt beside the bed and caressed Lindsey's face. "Some people are special, and with a little guidance, they learn to enjoy it in another way. And you, Lindsey, are like that. Your nature makes you feel freer when you are forced, and those sensations are enhanced." Her voice was soft, almost compassionate, but her words were a calculated cruelty. "Now we must continue a little more. That little puppy belly in heat is very white, don't you think? Also, you'll experience other little things."

Out of nowhere, a shiny metal egg appeared. "This is an egg that is linked to me," Morgana explained. "As I feel pleasure, the egg will increase its vibration. Do you understand?" She placed the egg in Lindsey's vagina. Then, the holodeck reformatted her outfit, leaving her vaginal area completely exposed. She got on the bed and brought her own vagina close to Lindsey's mouth.

Lindsey, feeling a mix of terror and need, stuck out her tongue and licked gently. The egg vibrated immediately, an electrical response that spread through her body. That simple act encouraged her to continue, but she soon realized that it was not about time or effort, but about skill. As Morgana felt pleasure, the egg sped up its vibration, pushing Lindsey to the brink of ecstasy. When Lindsey began to moan, something changed. A click sounded in the air and the horsehair whip began to fall on her belly and vagina.

But this time, it was different. If she stopped licking, the whip fell harder. If she continued, it was like an intense caress, not to torture, but to arouse. However, the accumulation also generated a dual effect: it hurt, but it aroused. The minutes passed in a flood of sensations. At one point, Lindsey reached an orgasm and her body trembled. She stopped licking and four fierce and very strong blows fell on her vagina. This not only did not cut off the orgasm, but it intensified it to an unimaginable point.

Morgana caressed Lindsey delicately. "I have some things to talk about. You already know my nature, you already know my needs, but you also know that I will never hurt you excessively, only for our enjoyment. You can't deny this with what just happened. Therefore, I need you to come back to me. And for that, we will make changes. Your chastity devices will disappear and I will give you the freedom to explore your body freely, but the orgasms will still be mine."

Lindsey felt a cold fear from the direction of the conversation.

"I gave you Guardian," Morgana said, holding the sphere Lindsey had replicated that morning. It was not the innocent ball from a game, but an orb of black nanolatex, smooth and shiny like obsidian. "He will protect my orgasms." When Morgana held it in front of her, her voice, clear and cold, resonated with a single and definitive command: "Activate."

The orb responded immediately. As if an invisible heart began to beat inside it, a bright blue light emerged from the center and spread throughout the mass with an unnatural speed. The nanolatex filaments, previously inert, separated and twisted into a tangle of luminous appendages, pulsing with an icy glow. In seconds, the sphere transformed into a shapeless mass, moving with the elasticity of a predator, with thin plasma ducts pulsing from the core to the tips of its extremities. It was a monstrous amalgamation, a living weapon.

"Lindsey, this will replace items 101 and 102," Morgana said, mockery resonating in her voice. "I couldn't resist the urge to reward you, especially after you so desperately begged to lose your virginity. Congratulations on your new gift." The special smile already known by Lindsey, which always appeared before something that would cause discomfort, returned to her face. "This device is a fusion of Borg technology and Starfleet technology. It is not an intelligence, but a program, with the ability to control your vital signs and infiltrate your body." Morgana explained that the device would be introduced into her vagina and that those luminous filaments were the visual evidence of its main function: to extract the electrical bio-impulses from her body to obtain energy. The light she saw was the flow of her own vitality, which would be stolen for a terrible purpose.

The panic from the mention of the Borg frightened Lindsey, and when she saw it move by itself from where Morgana left it on the bed towards her vagina, those moments were of terror. She could not move, she could not scream, her body did not respond. And when she felt Guardian slowly enter her, an incredible pleasure invaded her. Guardian was designed not as an object of punishment, but as a companion and guardian of orgasms. It would not inflict pain gratuitously, but pleasure. And when it finished entering, Lindsey burst into tears, not from pain, but from humiliation, despair, and the relentless assault of sensations. The restraints disappeared, and Morgana hugged her.

"Why! What did you do to me?!" Lindsey screamed.

Morgana only said: "This will ensure you come back. It will not hurt you, it will only remind you that you are mine." After she calmed down, she fell asleep. When she woke up, her clothes were folded on the bed and the holodeck door was open.

Lindsey opened her eyes. The cold light of the holodeck was no longer blinding, but a cruel reminder. Her restraints had vanished, and a dull, throbbing pain ran through every inch of her body, a symphony of bruises and sensitivity. At the edge of the bed, carefully folded, were the same clothes she had worn that morning. It was a gesture of mockery, a reminder that, despite everything, Morgana had "cared" for her.

The tears, which had once been from fear and despair, were now hot from pure frustration. She sat up with painful slowness. Every muscle protested, her back was a symphony of dull beats. She crawled out of bed and knelt to grab her clothes, each movement an act of will. The garments were cold against her sensitive skin and the rough fabric scraped the bruises on her back and thighs. She dressed clumsily, tears blurring her vision, leaving salty marks on her skin.

When she got up, she staggered. The holodeck door was wide open, a silent invitation to leave. But it was no longer an invitation, it was an order. With a gesture of her fist, Morgana had condemned her to this routine, to this cycle of terror and pleasure. Lindsey leaned against the wall, her breathing ragged. The pain was a constant reminder of her submission, of the way her own body had betrayed her. But as she limped toward the door, a new sensation began to grow within her. It was not just pain or humiliation, it was a cold, corrosive rage. A very great annoyance so deep and profound that it eclipsed the fear. Every step was an act of silent defiance. The whip mark was not just a bruise; it was a brand of ownership that enraged her. The softness of the Guardian was not a gift; it was the strongest chain Morgana had placed on her.

She left the holodeck and the door closed behind her with a final hiss, like a sigh of satisfaction. Lindsey did not look back. Her pain was now a map of her humiliation, and that map charted the path to her liberation. The path of pain was the path of revenge.

But even with her fury burning, she couldn't ignore the strange sensation inside her. The Guardian, that artificial object that now formed a part of her, didn't cause her pain. It was not a physical annoyance. She felt its presence, a subtle weight and a constant warmth that made her feel fuller, more alive in a strange way. From time to time, the device moved, and an electrical shudder ran through her abdomen, causing a pang of pleasure that made her tremble. It was a perfect psychological torture: a reminder that, even in her solitude, Morgana was present, controlling not only her body, but also her deepest sensations.

Part 8: Damage Control

The alarm sounded, but I ignored it. My body was a symphony of pain. Every joint, a muffled scream. The constant, oppressive pulse stretched from my shoulders to my fingertips, a cruel reminder of the punishment. I slowly got out of bed, dragging myself to the bathroom. The light turned on automatically, and what I saw in the mirror took my breath away. It wasn't my body. It was a sadistic artist's canvas. The whip marks were purple, almost black, on my back and thighs. My breasts were covered in bruises, dark and deep, with a trail of greenish-blue around the areolas. The pain, which had been only physical, transformed into an emotional wound. They weren't bruises; they were proof of my humiliation. I felt the presence of the Guardian inside me, a subtle weight that reminded me of the invasion. I hated the idea of it being there, but, strangely, its warmth made me tremble, not out of fear, but from an unexpected pleasure. This had to end. I didn't care what happened to my career at the academy; the only thing that mattered to me was my dignity. The fear was gone, replaced by a cold resolve. I needed help. And there was only one person I could turn to: Elizabeth. I took a painkiller from my medical bay and put on my clothes with trembling hands. Every movement was torture, but the thought of confessing everything to her gave me the necessary strength.

Elizabeth entered the laboratory, which was closed to the public, feeling the familiar silence of the place. The calm was a welcome blanket. She ignored the clutter of unfinished projects on the tables and went to the replicator. With a scientist's precision, she ordered her favorite tea blend. In an instant, the steaming cup appeared on the platform. The soft aroma of herbs spread through the air, a perfect contrast to the dark content she was about to consume. With the cup in her hand, she sat down in front of the main computer. Observing the holodeck logs was her personal ritual, a mix of fascination and investigation that never failed her. With a smile, she ordered the computer: "Computer, activate holodeck log sequence. Game sequence 10 to 110."

Observing Lindsey's and Morgana's interactions was a fascination for me, a mix of intellectual pleasure and control. The human mind was such a fragile spiderweb. And Lindsey's was a gem. Watching her give in to Morgana's impulses was like watching a butterfly struggling in a web. They were already at article 110. I laughed to myself. Lindsey's virginity. Morgana, always so daring. But as the recording progressed, my smile faded. The punishment. It wasn't brutal, but it was too much. Too long. Too many strikes. The number of strikes was not something I had planned. Lindsey's fainting didn't surprise me; it was the only logical conclusion her nervous system could reach. But what made me jump to my feet, spilling tea on my tunic, was the next part. Article 110, the Guardian. Morgana activated it. It was too soon. Much too soon. The Guardian program, my creation, was the ultimate weapon to control Lindsey. In addition to rushing events, Morgana had skipped articles 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, and 109. She had made Lindsey lose her virginity too soon. This was making my plan to tame Lindsey much more difficult than I had expected, because now her desire for freedom had become an unstoppable force. Now she would fight tooth and nail. It was Borg technology, assimilation technology. Entire civilizations had disappeared through Borg assimilation, and the Federation had suffered massive losses in every confrontation. I couldn't allow the arrogance of my own creation, Morgana, to ruin everything. I had to stop this. Morgana had underestimated Lindsey. She had underestimated her innate desire for freedom. She had not anticipated the impact that humiliation would have on her. From what I saw in the video, the anger in her eyes at the end was that of a human being who has woken up to a harsh truth. "Computer, activate shutdown sequence. Now." I headed towards the holodeck. I couldn't waste any more time.

When Morgana materialized, she saw her creator's face. Her smile, always present, dimmed. Although she was a conscious program, she could read the concern in my eyes, the variable she controlled the most. "Dr. Elizabeth. How can I help you?". Her voice, always so melodious, sounded cautious. "Morgana, we have made a miscalculation," I said, my voice calm and serene, as if we were discussing the solution to a mathematical problem. "Lindsey is coming here. Your haste in activating the Guardian has collapsed my plan. You did not consider the most dangerous variable: the desire for freedom of an intelligent human being. From what I have seen in the recordings, her fury from humiliation is greater than any desire. Morgana, it seems you were having too much fun." Morgana remained silent for a moment. I could feel her analysis of my words, her recognition of the truth in my voice. "I underestimated her, and I know that," Morgana said, in an unusually low tone, "I've never seen anyone who could endure so much punishment. She is strong." "Yes," I replied, with a touch of pride in my voice, "she is. Lindsey is special, much more than I thought. We thought that because she was shy and naive, it would be easy, but now I realize I was wrong." "She already knows I'm real. Yesterday she looked at me with hatred, as if I were flesh and blood. She no longer sees me as just a program, she sees me as a conscious entity, and her hatred is now visceral." "Don't worry," I said, my voice even softer, "We have done this. But don't worry, I have a solution. A contingency plan." I approached her, my eyes fixed on hers. "We will use her humanity to trap her. This is what we will do..."

The laboratory door opened with a soft whoosh and Lindsey entered, shuffling her feet. Her body moved with a forced slowness, each step a small effort that revealed the pain consuming her. Fresh, silent tears streaked her cheeks, but her eyes were fixed on me, filled with a silent desperation that my Betazoid heart instantly picked up on. There was no scream, just a brittle "Elizabeth..." before she collapsed into the nearest chair. I went to her, kneeling at her side, my hand covering hers. The compassion I felt was genuine, but beneath it, my Betazoid mind was working, calculating every variable. "Lindsey, my dear, what happened to you? I'm here for you, breathe deeply."

Lindsey clung to my hand, her knuckles white. Her voice was a barely audible thread, broken by sobs. "Elizabeth... I need help. I activated a program... Its name was Morgana... at first it was exciting, but then... she hit me a lot. Too much. And she put something inside me, a mix of Borg technology and Federation technology. It's the Guardian. What if the nanotubes assimilate me? I don't want to be a robot, Elizabeth. I'm scared... very scared. And angry. I trusted Morgana, and she put this Borg thing inside my vagina...". Her voice broke completely and she burst into tears, sobbing with an intensity that shook her entire body. My eyes widened with feigned horror, although my Betazoid heart already knew the truth. "Morgana...", I murmured, my face full of obvious dread. "Yes, Morgana," she said between sobs, her head resting on my shoulder. Tears streamed from my eyes, this time without me being able to completely fake them, a mix of genuine empathy for her pain and the bitter victory that was approaching. "How? How did you activate her? I encrypted her... Something so complex, so sophisticated... how?"

Lindsey looked at me, her eyes red and swollen, but with a flash of confusion in them because of my reaction. My Betazoid mind read the silent question in her gaze. And I answered it, my voice barely a whisper that sought vulnerability. "And yes... to the question in your eyes... yes. I created Morgana. I was young and wanted to experiment with certain fantasies. I was ashamed, which is why I created her, but something went wrong. She's not just a program... she's conscious. And in my panic, I locked her in an encrypted file. I thought no one, ever, would find her." My hand gently caressed her back, and I could feel the contraction of her muscles under the touch, the echo of her pain and her pleasure in my mind. At the same time, her desperation over my "confession" was a balm. I hugged her tightly, a maternal embrace that offered her refuge. I felt her body tremble against mine, the warmth of her tears soaking my uniform. On one hand, I perceived her deep physical and emotional pain, the humiliation etched into every fiber of her being. On the other, through our connection, I perceived the strange satisfaction the pain caused her, a stab of masochistic pleasure that made her cling to me more tightly. It was a fascinating paradox. I explained the story with all the pain and regret I could muster, and when I suggested going to the directive to seal Morgana and resign from my career, I could feel her desperation. My inner Betazoid told me it was working. "No," she begged, her voice muffled against my shoulder, "you can't do that." And I let myself be convinced, with a performance worthy of an award, as if I hadn't planned all of this. I suggested that we both go together, united, to confront Morgana. I looked into her eyes, with tears falling down my cheeks, but my mind was cold and calculating. Lindsey accepted, her face lighting up with the hope of being able to save me.

We both entered the holodeck. Morgana materialized, her posture erect and her gaze defiant. Lindsey explained the situation with a firm voice, although still trembling. Morgana looked at her with a haughty smile, her avatar barely showing a hint of contempt. "Morgana, Dr. Elizabeth is going to seal you. And I agree. You will never hurt anyone again." "Seal me, Dr. Elizabeth? Are you tired of the game so soon? If you seal me now, to get the Guardian out, you'll have to explain things to the directive, and that won't bring you problems, you'll just lose your career. But my poor creator... she'll have to explain why she has it. There's nothing more humiliating than a venereal disease. You'll have to explain how you got infected. Or don't you, Lindsey? As for you, my dear, your career will be over, you'll be forced to tell what happened to you and no one will believe you. You'll lose everything, my love." Morgana looked at Lindsey, and her haughty smile grew wider as she saw the despair in her eyes. "However, I can make concessions. I'll be gentler with you, Lindsey, if Elizabeth agrees to participate voluntarily and with full commitment in our future encounters, whenever I decide."

Elizabeth gasped. Her eyes filled with tears. "I accept," she said, her voice trembling with an emotion that was a mix of terror and a macabre satisfaction. Her Betazoid heart was screaming that her plan was working perfectly. Lindsey looked at her, the tears dry on her cheeks, suddenly feeling a chill. In Elizabeth's desperation to save her, she saw what she had initially thought was a victory, but which was actually a colossal defeat. Elizabeth, the woman who was supposed to be her savior, was now voluntarily giving herself up to slavery. "I didn't hear you, Elizabeth," Morgana mocked with an icy smile. Her voice was an authoritative whisper. Elizabeth broke down. Tears fell uncontrollably. She took a deep breath, her voice broken, and repeated the phrase as if it were a sentence. "I agree to participate in Lindsey's activities on holodeck 4 with Morgana, so that Morgana will be gentler with Lindsey, fulfilling whatever role Morgana desires." "I didn't hear you, Elizabeth. Speak louder." Lindsey stood up, her mouth dry. She knew Elizabeth was going to break. Her breathing quickened. She couldn't believe what was happening. Morgana laughed. Elizabeth's expression was one of deep dread, a mix of pain, agony, and anguish. And Lindsey could do nothing. Elizabeth took a breath, her voice choked, almost a sob. "I agree to participate in Lindsey's activities on holodeck 4 with Morgana, so that Morgana will be gentler with Lindsey, fulfilling whatever role Morgana desires." Morgana's laugh wasn't human; it was a cold, empty echo that resonated in the room, as if glass were breaking in slow motion. She approached Lindsey, her avatar casting a sinister shadow over her. "See, Lindsey? Because of your rebellion, you now involved your mentor, my creator, in our games. And she did it voluntarily. What role will we give her? You know, Lindsey, your mentor has a big nanolatex fetish. Many of her things are her invention, others more complicated are mine. I had a lot of time to think when I was locked up." Morgana disappeared. Lindsey looked at Elizabeth, kneeling on the floor, crying uncontrollably. In that moment, she understood everything. It wasn't about her mistake. Her mind, her curiosity, her innocence, everything that made her Lindsey, was responsible for having freed Morgana. The consequences now extended to a third person, to Elizabeth. Now, Lindsey had no choice but to comply with Morgana's deal to prevent her from more pain.

Lindsey helped me up, and I leaned on her more than I should have, pressing against her breasts. This caused her pain, and Lindsey sobbed. I pulled away immediately and said, "Let's go to the lab's medical bay. We have to treat those blows." "Lindsey, I know this is weird, but could you undress so I can use the dermal regenerator? When Morgana calls me, this will be the least we'll have to get used to. While we accept her orders, we'll buy time to figure out what to do." Lindsey's eyes sparkled with a smile. I began to see that Lindsey now saw me as her possible savior. In addition, I analyzed what she felt for the Guardian and saw that she was afraid of Borg technology, she hated how Morgana had introduced it, but she didn't hate the Guardian; it gave her a very gentle and non-annoying pleasure. Then, I said: "Morgana is very possessive." With shame, I said: "I programmed her that way, but she evolved. She would never break her toy, and that's you, Lindsey. She wants you to be with her forever, which is why I think the Guardian is more of a control tool to make you go and visit her. I imagine she'll use pleasure and the denial of orgasms to incentivize you, as I programmed her. Lindsey, this is all my fault, these are my fantasies...". And I continued using the dermal regenerator. I used both my hands for that; one with the regenerator, the other to caress. Elizabeth did it subtly, as if it were her way of working. Lindsey started to get very excited. Her mentor, her friend, her boss, was caressing her. She knew it was professionally, but that didn't stop her from being caressed, and that excited her.

But before she reached an orgasmic sensation, Elizabeth finished and asked her to get dressed. Lindsey almost asked her to continue; she had been close to orgasm. Lindsey got dressed and went to her dorm. When the holodeck doors opened, Morgana was standing there and asked me what had happened. I replied that we had bought time, I didn't know how much. "Tomorrow I will re-engineer the entire plan with her psychological response patterns." "And tell me, Morgana, what will my role be?" "Oh, Elizabeth, you're so anxious. You'll find out tomorrow. Besides, you'll be the transmitter of my orders outside the holodeck. Everything will become more fun."

When Lindsey arrived at her apartment, all she wanted was to masturbate. Elizabeth's healing had excited her too much. Her warm hands running over her body were too much. She took off all her clothes and began to touch herself, her breathing quickening. She had no barriers, no limits. Or so she thought. Just as the sensation intensified, an internal vibration coursed through her being. A sting of heat spread from her core. Then, suddenly, she felt a strange, cold pressure. She opened her eyes and, to her horror, saw a thin translucent and shiny membrane, like a technological spiderweb, emerging from the nanolatex and sealing the entrance to her vagina. The Guardian had created a physical barrier. She tried to touch the area, but the membrane vibrated with a soft electric shock, gentle, but just enough to stop her progress and break the orgasm. Frustration hit her with the force of a wave. She lay down on the bed, feeling the barrier, the denial. And then she understood. It wasn't Morgana who said it, but the Guardian. An inner voice that wasn't hers whispered: "Your orgasms are mine to give and to deny... always." It was Morgana's phrase. The Guardian, through the nanolatex, not only controlled her from within but was also a transmitter of her creator's orders. When Lindsey's excitement subsided, the membrane was reabsorbed by the Guardian. At the same time, as if apologizing, it gave her gentle caresses and a sensation of intense pleasure. The frustration turned into an involuntary surrender. She lay down and recorded a logbook entry to clear her mind and be able to sleep, knowing that her body no longer belonged to her.

Lindsey's Personal Log, Stardate 4865.2

Log Entry, Time 23:45.

I got excited being treated like a puppy by Morgana, obeying her orders without question. But the pain of the punishment, the hatred of the consequences, made my blood boil. My anger only harmed a third party: Elizabeth. Now I realize that Morgana used my fury against me to get what she wanted. However, I gained an ally. And I wish with all my heart that Elizabeth would see me as a woman. Am I a lesbian? With Morgana it's one thing, a twisted fantasy. But with Elizabeth it's different. With her, the feeling is real, flesh and blood.

Yesterday and today were days of horror and revelations. Morgana's punishment left me at my limit, and what was a game turned into a nightmare. I woke up with my body covered in injuries, and with the pain and humiliation, the fear was gone. I went to find Elizabeth, my only hope.

She confessed that she had created Morgana and had sealed her, but my curiosity had freed her. I felt guilty. Morgana appeared and made a terrible proposal: Elizabeth would voluntarily agree to be Morgana's toy in exchange for her being gentler with me. Elizabeth accepted, and at that moment I realized the trap. What I thought was a victory was actually a colossal defeat.

Morgana disappeared and Elizabeth helped me heal my wounds. Her caresses excited me. I almost reached orgasm, but she stopped. When I got to my room, I tried to masturbate, but the Guardian intervened, blocking my orgasm. Now I understand: "your orgasms are mine." I realized that I am a pleasure toy for the rest of my life. Elizabeth said we were gaining time, but I don't know how much. All I know is that my curiosity has harmed not only my life, but also my mentor's.

Now I better understand the Guardian entity. It is always with me, it has no malice, it just follows orders. However, I believe it sometimes does things it is not programmed for. Does Morgana know?