Carrie had begged for mercy, for release, for death even, on numerous occasions, but this was the first time she'd called the customer a goddess. But according to any definition of a goddess, in this virtual world, that is what the woman was. She had absolute divine power to create and destroy, to bind and to loose, to hurt and to heal. And for just a few seconds Carrie managed to entertain hope that possibly calling the woman by that title had softened her. She seemed to be staring into space for a moment, as if actually considering being merciful. Then her eyes snapped back into focus and she seemed to glare at Carrie with a hate that made the girl cringe.<br/><br/><blockquote class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeBlock--expandable bbCodeBlock--quote js-expandWatch" data-attributes="member: 2087" data-quote="Adrei" data-source="post: 79644">
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			“Ok doll.”
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</blockquote><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#b3b300"><i><b>SNAP</b></i></span><br/>Carrie was back in the coffin, feeling like her soul had been twanged with an elastic band, the message "Avatar updating" displayed to her.<i>Oh no, what now?</i>Of course there was always the chance that the customer might be doing something nice? And a snowball might survive in hell...<br/><br/><b><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff0000"><i>BANG</i></span></b><br/>And Carrie was back in the avatar. At least, she assumed she was. There was no input to her optic centres. Had something gone wrong? She was beginning to panic, and then she heard that voice, smooth as silk, as soft as the purr of a mountain lion. Familiar and terrifying. The panic froze, became a solid ball of absolute dread in her gut, as fingers gripped her face.<i>She has removed my eyes!</i>The customer had never done<i>that</i>before. She had removed the avatar's fingers, replacing the hands with paws, transformed the entire body into a different shape, but never before removed one of her two primary senses. The voice was gentle and the hot breath in her ear, followed by the hot wet tongue, made her shudder. Another hot, wet touch, to her neck, a kiss this time? The fingers gripped her neck, hurting, piercing? She didn't know. There was no feeling of blood running down her skin, so maybe the customer still had damage disabled. That was actually a bad sign, as it meant that she was going to take her time torturing the poor unfortunate doll.<br/><br/>The feeling of cloth against her skin too, and pressure, soft firm curves beneath the folds and frills of material that scratched. Hands grasped her breasts, and the tongue travelled down to her breast as Carrie was pushed to the lower surface of this unbuilt fantasy, still a cold and unyieldingly smooth surface against her skin. A hard, round, warm object pressed painfully against her crotch. She grimaced, the muscles around where her eyes should have been clenching hard as her breasts were squeezed and twisted in a way that caused tears to spring from the eyes of the human body lying inert in the coffin, but the avatar doll no longer had tear ducts.<br/><br/>A cry of pain, she suppressed. The woman wanted her to cry out, because if she did, the woman would punish her.<br/><br/>But then a hand gripped her mouth again, squeezing, forcing it open. She knew better than to resist, opened her mouth wide, knew better than to bite the probing fingers that grasped her tongue, causing her to yelp incoherently in pain. She almost missed the words, almost dismissed them as an auditory hallucination.<i>Make her come? No, she said <u>cum</u> not come... But... Never...!</i>The customer had never wanted Carrie to touch her before. Never. Carrie's hands were bound behind her, had been since the beginning, almost always were at the start of a session. her ankles were bound too, although more loosely. And every session before now had been the customer inflicting pain and humiliation on the doll. On Carrie. Even those occasions when the woman fucked her with a dildo or strap-on, the device was always too large, or grotesquely formed to deny Carrie any pleasure. The woman took her pleasure from seeing her plaything squirm in agony, frustration and humiliation.<br/><br/>This was different. This was a change<i>. Doll-query: Customer ID?</i>The limited functionality of the avatar interface the doll controllers had did allow some override functions, and allowed them to be thought controlled rather than spoken, to maintain the illusion of an inhuman AI controlling the avatar. This was one - a simple query to ascertain the identity-number of the current customer. The query would also log a request to the staff in the big white room to run a trace and ensure that the customer was who they claimed to be. Of course none of that data was made available to the poor sod in the coffin, but doll-controllers had in the past identified hackers and unauthorised users of an account. Not this time though. The coffin passed the user id directly into her head, exactly the same as at the start of the session, with the word "Verified". And that was a black mark on her record. If she ever requested a trace again, she better be damned sure it was an imposter.<br/><br/>All that took but a moment, and the customer would not even be aware of it unless she had some totally amazing hyper-beefed up security on her IO-line, because The Doll Factory had The Best.<br/><br/>The pressures let up on the various parts of her body, and Carry took a deep breath. "Yes Goddess..." She muttered, feeling herself dragged across the (thankfully) still smooth surface by the collar around her throat. She wriggled and squirmed to move herself in that direction, her hair trapping under her, pulling, her head bumping gently against something warm and soft. A leg, she guessed. Inside or outside? She didn't know. She swung her head the other way, bumped a similar feeling object. So, between the legs. Good. A pungent scent now - flowers. Not the fishy scent she was expecting, but... well the lady had class, at least, give her that. Carrie estimated the distance as the scent grew stronger and the distance between the legs grew less as she moved her hear snake-like from side to side. The top of her nose touched something and elicited a soft, almost imperceptible response. Carry raised her head slightly and pushed her nose against the soft, gauzy fabric. She remembered that the customer's avatar was wearing thin and sexy red panties, briefly glimpsed as she had been lifted from kissing the boot.<br/><br/>Move further in, lift head again. There. Mouth now touching the fabric covered mound, nose pressed deep into the floral scented slit. Another wiggle and she was there. Now her nose was pressed against the customer avatar's anal hole, but unlike her own she doubted it was functional. Her mouth was kissing the drenched lower lips of the woman, through the fabric, gathering it into her mouth with her tongue and teeth, moving it to one side. Now Carrie pressed her lips directly onto the sweet tasting bare flesh. Her tongue lapped out and ran the length of the exposed slit from clit to anus and back, enjoying the flavour. It reminded her of something she'd been given as a child in the orphanage, offered to her by a man who ... She pushed that memory aside. The present was bad enough without poluting it with the past.<i>Turkish Delight</i>the name of the confection came back to her. Sweet and tasting of flowers. Her shoulders were cramping. She ignored the pain, concentrated instead on giving pleasure to this woman the way she had to plenty of other women. She preferred women. They generally didn't shove large rods down your throat and choke you with them, and expect you to swallow the foul tasting stuff that came out.<br/><br/>Admittedly some did shove things down your throat, and some did insist you swallow foul tasting stuff, but almost never at the same time. Unlike men.<br/><br/>Lips pursed, she kissed her way up the folds, found a hard little nub, sucked it into her mouth, pulled it with her lips, gripped it gently with her teeth, just enough to let the customer know it was her teeth, and that she would NOT bite. And then her tongue took over, teasing and flicking at the tip, caressing and vibrating on it, as her nose tip explored the opening to the woman's love hole.