Night Star – The Science Project

By Mr. K

“You can’t remember, can you?”

The girl’s voice was wispy. It came gliding in from the sleepy haze in Night Star’s mind, and prodded at her brain.

“You aren’t sure whether you’ve been here for hours, days, or months? You can’t remember, can you?”

The girl had to stand on tip toe to whisper in the older woman’s ear. The way she was held captive, wrists in heavy mechanical cuffs, ankles in heavy mechanical cuffs, secured to the wall of the lab, her head was a tip-toe reach above the younger woman’s. Semi-conscious, the prisoner’s hair poured forward as her head sagged down.

“You don’t remember how we came to possess you, do you? You don’t remember how we captured you, Snare, and Cutlass, do you? We tortured all of you, but we kept you, beauty. We tossed them out in the trash, but we kept you. We … Do you remember that I was supposed to be the one to receive your powers?”

She reached up and caressed the face of the dormant woman. The captive was a shocking red head with curls that went past her shoulders. Like a classic redhead, she was pale and peachy, with light freckles and blue eyes. The girl had seen the captive woman naked many times now, and she knew that the freckles dusted her whole body, and that her nipples were like bright, red rose buds.

She was a natural redhead, and the crotch blazed with a dense, red thicket of untamed hair. It announced itself against the snowy skin, and swathed the thick, pout of a large, dark labia.

The captive woman was clothed in her costume now. It was a footed and gloved cat suit, more body hugging and slick than any wet suit the girl had ever seen. It looked more than body paint than a body glove, and it glowed with a dusting of starry sprinkles. She was masked, and her blue eyes were open, but empty, behind the black material.

The black unitard celebrated her musculature, her body. She was an athletic woman of sturdy physique, and robust curves. She had the strong, long limbs and thick muscle of an athlete, and the large breasts and svelte waist of a men’s magazine model. Even the fitness and muscle was feminine and luscious. There was no masculine, boxy appearance to her biceps, her thick quads, her teardrop calves, or the solid, carved, rope of the muscles that wove their way across her shoulders and back. Muscle and sinew, she was still a voluptuous hourglass.

Even stretched out like an X, her wrists and ankles in cuffs, her head sagging forward in its semi-present droop, the girl was able to admire, to practically swoon, over the more mature woman.

“You are perfection. You can’t remember, but we’ve extracted your DNA. Just enough. We’ve isolated the alien properties. Do you even remember that part of things?”

She recounted how they used something called an ethoscan that searched through her body for what was alien. There were memories, vague ones. She wasn’t sure whether all of this had taken in place a few hours ago, or in years gone by. They had done such a good job of pelting her with UV light and drugging her that her mind was scrambled.

“I do recall some of what she says.”

Night Star was in a booth of what appeared to be glass on all sides. She remembered that. Hanging there in her cuffs, now, she recalled standing in what seemed like a glass display case. It was like she was a life-sized action figure in its box. Multicolored lights shot through it, interlacing her body, and she shook.

Whatever the beams were, they entered her body, cutting through the tiny fibers of her costume, her skin, her muscle, her bone. They would not leave the slightest mark, but they would enter and exit her, examining her from the inside out and the outside in. Her muscles trembled, her breasts bounced with the rhythm of her convulsing body, and she screamed.

“We pieced you apart and spliced you back together over and over. We were digging through the genetic material that makes you Night Star, and milking out some of the little gift that the aliens gave you. It was aliens, wasn’t it?”

A large video screen was playing it all back in the corner. There was that image of Night Star panting, her body heaving with each sharp exhalation, her back arching, her breasts thrust up. Behind her mask, her blue eyes were wide

“That was a good day,” the girl said. “Before that, we had to test your powers. We had to see how durable your body was due to that alien DNA.”

Night Star had a vague recollection of being strapped down on a table, bans fitted perfectly across her waist, thighs, ankles, wrists, and throat. One ran just below her breasts. She remembered the hum of a machine, a hydrolic press of some sort coming down from above.

She remembered a history lesson about the Salem Witch trials, and how one old man was pressed to death.

The girl was lilting and cheerful as she described how Night Star’s big breasts and thick muscles were pressed and mashed by the huge machine that came from the ceiling and crushed down on her body.

“A regular woman would have been crushed to death by what we pressed down on you.”

The scene, the next story was about a pain test. Again, she remembered it. She could feel it in her body again. They used her hair to string her up, every strand of it dangling her like a Christmas ornament from a lattice work up above. The girl said that the sexiest thing was the limp way that her muscular limbs simply hung loosely. It was sexy, the way she dangled.

Night Star remembered the man that they called Fixer. He was, she thought, shocking average for what he did to her. He was rather small and academic-looking. He wore the heavy-rimmed glasses that were so popular in the 1960’s.

Fixer was every meticulous. He didn’t tear through the body stocking; there was no need to. It was body-loving enough for him to do what he wanted to do. The Fixer was very careful as he took hold of her long, thick labia. First, he pinched and pulled the big, right lip, tugging it down and into the maul of a cruel metal clamp. He took a moment, then did the same to the left labial lip. A cold, metal clamp that was joined to a short, metal chain was now hooked in place.

She bit down on her lower lip as he added weight.

The girl continued to talk in a mellow, soothing voice.

“They’ve played with your memory so much, you probably don’t know what just happened.”

The dormant woman was silent.

“Sweety, you tried to escape again. Why do you keep doing that? We had to bring you back again, and again.”

She painted a picture for the woman in chains. She explained one of the recent attempts.

Night Star had ended this escape attempt flat on her back in one of the facility corridors. With her arms flung wide, and her eyes shut, she slumbered under blanket of gas in a sealed off portion of the hallway. There had been a brief struggle to stay conscious, but the treatments of UV light been too much for her. She was weak, and when the high-impact plastic door slid shut, and the gas poured in, all she could do was slide to the floor and succumb.

“That was one time. We had to be careful not to damage you, precious.”

She described with loving detail how the guards dragged her back down the hall, each one taking hold of an ankle and simply pulling her along the smooth hallway floor.

“The last time you almost escaped our lab, we did the same thing, but with water. Do you remember that?”

She remembered being sealed in a chamber, and suddenly pounded with a powerful wave of water from above. With the velocity of a fire hose, the gusher slammed her to the floor and simply drowned her. They would stop the deluge only when they saw her floating face-down in the water. She was unconscious.

“Even without your powers, with you as weak as a kitten, you found ways to sneak off. I have your intelligence now, so I'm excited to know that I will be able to do this sort of thing now. Figure out puzzles. Get out of situations.”

She was touching the red hair now.

“At one point we thought it was enough to hold you like this, do experiments on you, draw out your genetic material and meld it with mine. Once we saw you would continue to try escaping, slipping out of your cuffs, we decided that we had to do a little more to you. You were impeding the growth and development of science. There was this other time.”

Each scientist had turned his or her back to the woman in black. Night Star was a piece of the machinery. Chained to the metal frame by thick cuffs and bolted to the wall, the test subject heroine hung silently, her head sagging down.

The scientists worked.

They ignored her.

They traced and retraced the road maps of her DNA, muttering in sudden fanatic bursts when they came closer to finding doorways to isolating the alien DNA. They stooped at microscopes and wrote on electronic clipboards as a 3D hologram of Night Star's – Dr. Connie Gnau's – DNA spiraled and turned in midair.

They were engrossed and oblivious, until the woman in black was suddenly free of the wall and moving in their midst like a slick, black apparition. She was weak, her powers nullified by the cascade of UV light that had surrounded her since her capture, but she lashed out anyway. Her directed skill made up for the absence of her superheroine forces.

People in white lab coats sank away as the woman in the footed, black catsuit drove a front kick into the left thigh of one of the armed guards. They winced and looked away as the room filled with the loud, wet sound of a snapped bone.

He fell, shuddering in a paralyzing pain, as she turned to knock in the teeth of the next guard. He collapsed in pain, and Sister Dragon was suddenly in the room. The small, muscular Asian woman in her skin-tight body glove and bare feet came at Night Star like a twirling human machine.

She shot a high spin hook kick, a mid-level one, a roundhouse and a clean, even sweep at knee level.

Night Star only released a gasp as her head snapped to the side in a wild wave of red. She fell this way, then that. She sprawled to the floor. One of the scientists gave a delighted little chirp as Night Star attempted to push up from the floor, and her temple was met by the lashing end of a deftly swung set of nunchucks.

The sudden slap of the tempered wood crashing into the woman's skull signaled that Night Star's brief rebellion was over. Her head sank down, a few strands of red sticking to thick, cherry-candy lips.

Sister Dragon struck again with the martial arts weapon, and again, lashing the two -sectioned tool high in the air and beating the unconscious woman with two more sharp blows.

There was a stunned silence, tattered only moment to moment by the pained wimpers of the broken guards.

“That was brilliant,” gasped the young female scientist. Sister Dragon only

acknowledged her kudos with a smile as she reached down, took hold of a black, costumed ankle, and strode out of the lab. She dragged the object called Night Star behind her.

“And we let her punish you.”

There was an art to the bondage. The soles of Night Star's stocking feet were pressed together and secured that way. Tight, rough rope was coiled around her feet and twined around her ankles. It was complete in its severity, with no room left for even the slightest movement.

Her knees were spread wide and far apart, her legs forming a strict butterfly. Her bound feet were pulled up tightly, as close as possible to her crotch, with her heels practically touching her mound. Her thick, shapely thighs were lashed to her thick, shapely calves with coils of rough rope.

The same harsh rope was used to pin her wrists and elbows together, and pull her arms tautly above her head. The ropes that secured her arms were anchored to a very secure something above her head. Ropes tied to her knees were secured out to the sides. She was in her back in the dimness of an unnamed somewhere.

Just as her brain registered that the ever-present UV light had kept her a weakened captive was nowhere to be seen, there was a dull humming and a rush of light and pain. The room was flooded with light, and the pain of the ropes was complete. She could feel the blood being forced into different parts of her body. She could feel the numbness and the tingling.

And then there was Sister Dragon.

The assassin entered and slowly paced around the supine red head.

The room was bathed in light.

“You have to be punished. You almost escaped, and that would have thwarted the progress of science. You have to be punished.”

She knelt as the woman's exposed crotch and licked her lips.

“I've planned this out.”

Night Star felt the gentle opening of her costume. The spaced that had been cut was back in play again. She felt the slow penetration of one long, manicured finger. It came slowly, with a deft precision that seemed almost tender. A slow gasp escaped the redhead as one finger sank all the way up to the knuckle in her trembling cunt.

Then there was another. Long and moving deeply into her.

Then there was another.

Night Star would have moved her body in response, letting her legs shudder and move, but the strict ropes held her in place.

“Nnnnngggg….”

Her pussy yawned wide, and the Asian woman's small, solid fist found a home in Night Star’s tight, sopping vagina.

“You're as tight as a virgin,” Sister Dragon laughed. “Tight virgin twat.”

Night Star clenched her teeth, her sex impaled by the other woman's fist, and finally she screamed a rippling, full-body scream. Juice shot out of her, soaking her tormentor's sleeve. The smile that blossomed on Sister Dragon's face advertised her joy and her belief in a sharp and painful justice.

“Enjoying that? Enjoy it. There you go.”

The girl blushed as she recounted it, remembered it.

“That was when you tried to leave us once,” the girl said. Her hands were caressing the bound captive.

“We've had to punish you many times. There was a time that we had to chain you down, squatting. I loved that.”

I do remember what she’s talking about. She seemed almost remorseful. There was a large, thick metal ring that seemed to sprout from the floor. It was like everything else in my laboratory prison – gleaming, antiseptic, solid, and immovable. They ordered me to walk up to it, and to stand over it, my stocking feet on either side of the loop. They had fit me with ankle cuffs. Stark white against the night-black of my body glove, they were a fraction of an inch too tight, and short chain links with shining clasps dangled from them. My wrists had the same adornments, as did my throat. From the collar that I wore dangled a silver chain that swung like a pendulum, grazing the indent of navel. It touched tentatively at the definition of my abs.

My captors told me to squat over the ring. I did. They worked quickly, securing the ankle chains, anchoring me to the ring. They did the same to my wrists. I crouched down in a squat over the ring, muscles flexing my legs, and they pulled my wrists in, down between my thighs. My arms were pulled in tight, painfully tight, and connected to the ring by the short chains that dangled from my wrist cuffs. I was chained in that squatting position, arms and legs linked to the same place on the floor.

When they hooked the collar chain to the floor ring, I had to bow my head and arch my back. Like all of the chains, the chain that dangled from my collar was made too short, so that my captivity would be complete – body crouched in a painful squat, my neck curled forward, my limbs pulled painfully to that center point on the floor.

My red hair completely covered my face.

“We have something to add to the UV light that has kept you weak,” I heard one of them say.

As soon as he said this, the sound waves started.

“We've had to punish you.”

I could remember making it to the exterior of the compound this time, getting past guards and breaking through doors. This time, it was their mistake. They wanted to do an experiment on how long it would take my powers to come back once the UV light was taken away. They also wanted to see how much of my power I could harness in semi darkness, then full darkness. They got their answer.

Sealed in a tube, cuffed hand and foot, I listened as they talked about letting off the UV light and monitoring my reaction. A little more. A little more. A little more until I felt a surge of power run through my muscles. They didn’t think anything of my becoming more and more empowered, because of a drug that they’d fed into my system.

They would learn that I could purge my system pretty rapidly once my powers were coming back.

I shattered the cuffs, then I shattered the tube in which they held me. This time, I didn’t go after any of them; that would have been a waste of time. It would give them more time to trap me again. I had to escape. Powered by the darkness, I flew straight up.

There was UV light for a moment, but I soared through floor after floor, tearing holes in the ceilings and floors as I reached for freedom. Luck had it that they had moved me to a lab that was close to the surface, but as I broke through into the night sky I realized how far they had taken me.

I was flying now, my arms at my sides, and above an island. I looked down at rough waves breaking against a rocky shore. Now I understood the big picture. They had transported me to some secret underground lab on an island far from the place where I’d been captured.

As I arched into the sky, I felt the bite and the pinch of sudden chains twining themselves around my ankles, then my arms and upper body, my throat. There was no mystery. Sister Dragon was reclaiming me with thrown manrikigusai weighted chains.

She must have thrown one after the other with blinding superhuman speed; they wrapped around me in a blizzard of spinning metal than seized me like a fist.

The weights all glowed with UV radiation.

As I plummeted, head first into the water, as I blacked out, I realized that she would always be one step ahead of me.

When I awoke, I was slung over Sister Dragon’s shoulder. Through my wet, matted hair I could see the floor beneath the firm, muscular relief of her back, ass, and legs. Water poured from my limp body and soaked hair, and from that of my captor, as she triumphantly carried me through the hallway of the laboratory.

“I love the texture of this,” she hissed, her fingers playing across the wet material of my costume. “I’m trying to figure out whether it feels like pleathe, or a wet suit, or what … It’s slick, and it’s like skin. I love this. Just right for a body like yours, strong muscles, big tits….”

Her chains were coiled around me, not just holding my ankles together and holding my arms to my sides. I could feel them in diagonals across my back and between my breasts. I could feel them around my neck, and weaving up to pull into my mouth like a bit.

“You awake back there, red?” she laughed. “Looks like I have you again.”

All I could do was look at the woman’s body through a veil of my own dripping hair until we rounded a corner and reentered my prison home.”

She remembered them applauding and slapping the backs of clipboards as the huntress returned with the prize.

“I have reclaimed our property!”

“We gave you a splendid punishment that time. You see, you couldn’t keep stealing out property. Do you remember the vat?” the girl asked.

Unbound from the chains, dragged by her arms, she was a rag doll. When they tossed her into a narrow tube, and shut the hatch, she slowly started to stir. She came up on all fours, shaking her head as if to get rid of the cobwebs.

They put me in a tube, a large plastic tube. Then theyy opened a vat, a hatch of some sort at the top of the tube.

Night Star would never know what the fluid was. It was thick, and milky, it tingled when it touched the exposed skin of her face. She would move, and a sliver of the goo would slither with her, oozing up her leg, or creeping into the corner of her mouth. As it filled the tube, it reached for her.

It had a salty, pungent smell, and it was … sentient, maybe? Did it really know where I was? Did it seek me, or was it responding to my body heat? As I moved away from it, the goo crowded after me. I could feel its sticky heat on my ass and my inner thigh. It pooled around my right foot, and held it firmly in place as more oozed down and snuggled into my hair.

Instinct drove my fingers back into my hair, and soon the stuff had hold of my fingers. Soon, I was on my knees with this thick, moving, reaching goo pooling around me. It crept up my thighs and ran in the creases and cuts that defined my abs.

Soon, it was on my face, filling my nose and mouth. Soon, this sentient cum, or whatever it was, was smothering me.

“We pulled you out and put the entity back in its vat. It was enough to see you come close to smothering.”

Night Star let her eyes meet those of the girl. She rummaged around and, somewhere, found the energy to speak to her. “What… now?”

“What now?”

“Is there … really more … to learn about me?”

“Maybe….”

She reached down, passed a card past the scanner of the cuff that held her right ankle. It opened with a loud click.

“Now, Night Star….”

She did the same to her left ankle.

“I’m setting you free.”

Night Star didn’t react. She merely stared as the younger woman slowly, almost lovingly, undid the bonds. She would have fallen from the rack, but found herself slumped across the shoulder of the girl.

“I’m taking you to the surface. You will be able to simply fly away once your strength is back.”

Her body bouncing on the shoulder of the woman as they moved through the corridors and up a stairwell, Night Star spoke in almost a whisper.

“Why?”

“I have all of your powers, and none of your weaknesses. I want to meet you in your full glory, out there, in the real world.”

Her voice was almost rippling with a mixture of joy and anticipation.

“These scientists want to take you part, and piece you apart, until there’s nothing left. I want you to … You must be destroyed, this is true, but I need it to be between us. It needs to be something beautiful and real. I must replace you, so it must be something intimate. Once I am fully ready, I will come out into the world. I will find you, and I will kill you. I know it’s safe to leave you here; you’re too weak to be of any danger for days, probably. You will only take this as an opportunity to escape.”

Night Star could only wait, in her weakness, as the girl took her to the rocky surface, and the darkness. She could only wait in her weakness, as the girl laid her out kissed her lips, and left.

“I’ll see you soon, Night Star.”

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