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.
Elizabeth and Lindsey 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 four 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 four 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 involve 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 these 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.
Morgana is very possessive," I said with shame, "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..."
I continued using the dermal regenerator. I used both my hands for that; one with the regenerator, the other to caress. I did it subtly, as if it were my way of working. Lindsey started to get very excited. Her mentor, her friend, her boss, was caressing her. She knew it was professional, but that didn't stop her from being caressed, and that excited her.
But before she reached an orgasmic sensation, I finished and asked her to get dressed. Lindsey almost asked me 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?