Free Descent Into Darkness by H. A. Kotys Page B

says ‘Pretty Whore and No More’.’ Katarina started to whimper as the text progressed. 'A majority of greens, you continue a slave. If voted a whore, there will of course be punishments.’
     
    She had no way to win. She craved the career dependent on the red button yet feared frying from the shocks. Green equalled pleasure but would see her labelled as a whore and punished. It was a kind of Pavlovian theory and it tore her in two.
     
    A metallic voice accompanied each vote, reading out the label, drilling each opinion into her head. ‘Beautiful Future Fetish Model’ engulfed her loins in pain. ‘Pretty Whore and No More’ buzzed a sweet pleasure, but never quite enough.
     
    Seconds melted into minutes, minutes into hours. The constant conditioning from each vote gradually ground down her resistance. As the day crept forward, Katarina found herself increasingly craving more votes for green. She slowly began to resent the intermittent votes for ‘Beautiful Future Fetish Model’. They curtailed the vibrations, shocking her instead. By afternoon, her body was starting to clamour for climax. Promises of pleasure were consistently broken. Her independent mind slowly started to yield and absorb the lessons exactly as her Mistress had planned.
     
    Whore? Good. Model? Bad. The lessons were simple and inescapable. Somehow they seemed to make sense now. She needed it, needed more green, needed to be thought a whore.

CHAPTER XI - A Model Career
     
    Slowly the number of people passing Katarina’s window dwindled as the shadows lengthened in the October sun's waning light. Pleasure and pain had assaulted her constantly throughout the day. They had nibbled at her mind until she hoped that each voter would view her as a pretty whore.
     
    The bands around her legs bit hard, reliant as she was on the titanium frame to hold her up to try to relieve her tortured toes. Her internal organs had settled to the corset, adjusting to the enforced repositioning. That was some crumb of comfort at least. Her arms? Well, she just assumed she still had them.
     
    Katarina was tired, oh so tired. Her stamina had been sucked dry. After the loss of her dear father she had worked out in a frenzy, welcoming physical pain to replace the mental. This was worse than those gym visits though, much worse.
     
    She'd initially tried to count each vote in an attempt to ground her sanity in some vague form of reality but the constant swing from sweet pleasure to searing pain had already numbed her thoughts. Two hundred she guessed for each side. Her count was at least two hundred votes short of the real totals though.
     
    The counter only told of the difference in the voting and it showed a close vote so far. It showed that, on balance, a majority saw a beautiful fetish model but now the thought sat uncomfortably with her. Twenty it said. Twenty more people saw a career, not a whore. Each associated explosion of pain had muddied her mind and she wanted more pleasure. More green. More whore.
     
    A familiar face drew Katarina’s attention away from the counter. Her cute jailer had appeared in front of the window, arms folded, smiling that smile, looking proudly at the display. Eyes on the voting box she paused, looking first to Katarina then back to the box, toying with a dilemma.
     
    “I really don't want to hurt you sweetie.” The microphones picked up her voice and transmitted it to Katarina's ears. “But I want to help you to be free.” With that Mela punched the red button. Katarina's crotch melted in pain. The metallic voice told her of the vote. The counter ticked to twenty one and a countdown to the closure of voting appeared next to it for the first time.
     
    Five minutes it told her. But five minutes to what? Katarina’s scrambled senses started to reform after her shocks. She couldn’t trust the others but this girl was different and she was helping her toward freedom. The voting had been brisk but fairly balanced. There was no way