Subdom
Inspired by Jace's Trapped
Note: If you prefer this story to be between two females, copy the text to a .txt file, open it in notepad, ctrl-H for "Master" and replace all entries of "Master" with "Mistress".
In a darkened hotel suite in Dubai, dozens of floors up in the air, a laptop is clicked open. It flickers to life. The desk is bathed in an LED glow as a shrouded figure assembles the reagents for a ritual.
A smuggled '01 Merlot. Two glasses. A bottle of her perfume. And a framed photo. Through these items any weary traveler in the 21st century may venture across continents and oceans in an instant, feeling the warmth of hearth and home, the affection of another, all through the subtle power of human sentiment and memory.
Oh and Skype. That's needed too.
A couple of clicks, and on the screen a woman appears, dressed in jeans and an ironic t shirt. For a second the figure catches her alone, anxious, expectant, fiddling with her phone. She's young, early to mid twenties, with a face unmarked by lines or wrinkles. But dark rings around her eyes belie her sleeplessness before this moment- Yet all this quickly fades away as a jubilant smile spreads across her face. Long lashes flutter bashfully as she looks into the camera.
Its daylight where she is, and the gold of her choodi, bangles given by her mother on that auspicious day, shine brightly as she brushes away dark, wispy hair from her eyes.
"You promised you'd call two days ago!"
"I know! I'm sorry baby, but- with the construction boom... there's been troubles with the workers again, and its been hard trying to mediate between them and the company. What's more, the reformist Labor Minister's got her new Equal Work, Equal Rights initiative, and she's sent someone on my case to make sure we're compliant- even though its Aspyr-Architecture whose illegally modifying contracts....
A sigh.
"Its just that-"
"It wasn't my choice to work abroad, and I'd rather not leave you there all alone, but.."
"I know, sweetie I know. Just one more year, right?"
"Yeah, just one more year."
They fidget uncomfortably, before the darkened figure begins to speak.
"So... how's the week been?"
"Alright... my PI's been really hard on the team to try and find a gram negative version of last year's bacterium prototype, you know, so that its more resistant to pollutants, but they just won't take up the plasmids. I'm not the only one whose thinking it might be better just to go public with the prototype. Resistant or not, the oil spills from the Typhoon Zidjian are still there, and they'll definitely eat away some of it."
"Dubai" laughs.
"What?"
"Nothing. Its just here I am, staring at someone whose literally saving the world, while I complain about bureaucrats."
"You flatterer you. Its not just me you know-"
"But they wouldn't have even found out about it if you hadn't been mucking about in Tijuana two years ago."
"I just got lucky with that find! And the only reason I can work on my PhD because you're putting up with that shit."
"Anything for you babe."
They smile warmly at one another. Again, "Dubai" breaks the silence.
"Isn't that convention coming up?"
"For Saeheron Online? Yeah, I'm so stoked. I'm still working on my costume though."
"You know, you're so busy, I don't know why you don't just order them-"
"From one of those shifty auction dealers? No way! Besides, cosplay is all DIY. You may be dressing up as someone, or something, else, but its your own labor of love."
"Well I'm not arguing with your hobbies, but we both know there's companies out there that-"
"Yeah yeah, but cosplay's about a mix of who you are and your character- I don't want to wear a mask to the convention. And anyway, it arrived."
"San Diego" bites her lip and looks off camera.
"What did?"
"Don't play dumb! We both know what I mean. Did they send you your stuff?"
"Yeah, a bluetooth remote, and some software. I installed it."
"I got some software too, with the main package."
"Did you install it?"
"Yeah, couple hours ago. It should be in your taskbar after opening it. Ctrl U to link."
They reach for their keyboards. In San Diego, a remote is heard buzzing from in front of the "Dubai". In Dubai, a muffled beep is heard off screen from "San Diego".
"Ah, well, its good to know that works..."
"Hang on, that wasn't a complete test. Don't you want to meet Valerie?"
"Well I haven't heard the full details of your week, I mean we haven't spoken in-"
"I could just send you an email. Besides, its late over there, yeah?"
"Yes, but"
"I want to do this. For you."
"Are you sure?"
"I know I'm new to this, but I want to be her... she looks so strong, so powerful."
"Dubai" leans back into the darkness, before pulling out the cork and pouring a glass of wine.
"Alright baby. Go and put it on."
Grinning madly, she skipped off camera as the figure sipped in expectation. When she reappeared, she had tied her beautiful, silky hair under a hairnet, and in her arms was what appeared to a partially deflated sex doll. She sat down on the couch in front of the camera expectantly.
"Strip."
"Yes, Master."
Her girlish smile replaced with doe eyed obedience, she stood up and pulled off her T shirt, freeing her stiffened nipples. Reaching down, she undid her Triforce belt buckled and let her faded skinny jeans fall to the floor. Impassively, she slid down her panties. Her vacant expression was only broken as she tenderly removed her mother's choodi, the most earnest expression of who she was moments ago.
"Good. Do you know what you are about to become?"
"Valerie, Master."
"Is that it? Just Valerie?"
"I'm sorry Master. Mistress Valerie."
"Better. Now who is Mistress Valerie?"
"42. Unmarried. Educated at École Polytechnique. Graduated with honors. Worked for the International Court of Justice in the Hague, pursuing war criminals."
"And why do you want to be her?"
Again, her impassive expression broke as her eyes began to look away from the camera.
"She's strong. She stands up for what she believes in. She doesn't let uncertainties get in the way of what needs to be done; just takes charge."
"Good. Now put her on."
"Valerie" came in two pieces, a bodysuit and a full head mask, with a brownish blonde wig attached via velcro. As the thinner neckpiece of the mask was designed to fit underneath the neckpiece of the suit, it had to go on first.
With a ripping sound, Valerie's medium length bangs were removed from her rubber head. The girl who was to become her hesitated for a moment.
"Are you afraid?"
"A little, Master."
"Then put it on."
Shutting her eyes and opening her mouth wide, she stretched the rubbery face over her features, grunting and gargling as the mouthpiece was fitted deep into her throat. Eventually the wrinkled rubber of the mask smoothed out.
Looking away from the camera, the girl quickly zipped the mask closed, before fastening the wig onto the velcro. Straightening it out with a flourish, she turned to face the camera for her Master's inspection.
The woman on the monitor bore little resemblance to the girl beneath. Fair skin, marked with a few freckles of age and sleep lines around the eyes contrasted with the youthful, blemish free olive skin that it covered. A narrow, pointed nose fitted over a cute button one. Defiant green eyed eyes over playful almond ones. A strong jaw held together an angular face with defined cheekbones- tightly encasing an oval one underneath.
It was hard to believe this was all just silicone and rubber. "Valerie" may have been merely cute once, and was still undoubtedly beautiful, but this was a woman with poise and command as well as grace. She sat staring, eyes fixed and slightly narrowed with a casual expression and thin blood red lips curled into a smirk.
"Can you speak?"
"Mmgh"
"Good. Now finish your transformation. That head does not go with your body."
Nodding dutifully, the girl reached for the Valerie skin. Standing up, she unzipped the back, and clambered in, feet first. With some unsuppressed grunts of frustration, she struggled to align her legs with the suit, but manages.
"Dubai" looks at the remote, and reconsiders. Not yet. One thing at a time.
"San Diego" takes care to align some unseen devices before pulling up the rest of Valerie's skin. A muffled moan. They fit. Then the arms, fingers probing for their new sockets, playfully dancing for the camera. Now the nails, given life by the girl underneath, moved up to close the suit's neck over that of the mask. Once this was done, she reached for the zip, and all trace of the her underneath disappeared.
Valerie's body had pale skin, like her mask, with a few moles and lentigo here and there. She had broad shoulders for a woman, reflecting her Gallic ancestry, and was athletic in build; her hips were still womanly but on the narrow side. Despite her age, her breasts remained firm, round, and perky- she had never had children.
Utterly naked, "Valerie" kneeled in front of the camera, squeezing her bosom between her arms for presentation, still incongruously acting like the girl underneath.
"What are you doing, girl? Do you desire praise? Stand up and dress yourself- and then you will have no need for praise."
With a small obedient bow, she reached for Valerie's clothing, folded neatly in a box off camera. Elegant black heels matched dressy black pants for her long, slender legs. A white cotton blouse, sleeves rolled up, under a black ladies waistcoat, buttoned. A black leather choker to hide the zip and seal her in. Finally, with care, the girl reached for the finishing touches of Valerie's ensemble- thin half frame glasses and a silver crucifix, nestled inbetween the opened buttons on her blouse, just before her cleavage.
Now fully dressed, the girl sat back, hands in her lap, mentally preparing for what was to come next. "Dubai" reached for the remote, and pressed the Green Button.
Suddenly Valerie's eyes blinked from their fixed expression, and began to scan the room. Left to Right. Right to Left. Up and down. Methodically, they tested their range of sight. The mask was starting to come to life.
Yet the eyes are the window into the soul, and "Dubai" saw behind Valerie's animatronic green eyes a girl's giddy jubilance at the functioning of the sensors and microservos. Ah well, two steps forward, one step back. Smirking inwardly, "Dubai" pressed the Blue Button.
A gasp, as the curled lips opened up to allow air through to the girl trapped underneath. Exploring her new face, the mask contorted into exaggerated expressions of laughter, joy, anger- even curling into a surprised O. Without a doubt the girl was having fun as she reached for her phone to admire her new countenance.
"Having fun?"
A muffled response.
"I can't hear you."
"Yes, Master. I'm sorry Master, I-"
"Do you like your new form?"
