BARBARELLA’S RAPTURE

RETURN TO THE EXCESSIVE MACHINE

by wingman

PART I

The silver ship hung motionless in space like a jewel set against black velvet. The engines were silent, the lights dim. There was no sign of life about it except for the figure clad in a silver suit hunched over an open access port on the top of the ship. The figure was completing maintenance on the power couplings. The last coupling clicked into place. The figure closed the access port, sighed, straightened, and stretched. Finally, she was done.

Barbarella--five-star, double-rated astronavigatrix--reached down to a control pad built onto her glove, and began to retract the air hoses attached to her excursion suit as she walked back toward the airlock. She climbed through the hatch and sealed it, and made her way into the main cabin of the Alpha 8. With main power off, only the dim emergency lights lit the orange, fur-lined cabin. Even the artificial gravity was off-line. Barbarella floated over to the main control console, and brought the main engines back on-line.

The ship hummed back to life. Reserve power switched off, and the lights flickered to full intensity. Within minutes the environmental controls had restored the cabin’s pressure and temperature to normal. The engines would need at least another thirty minutes before the ship could move. She left the artificial gravity off. But at least she could now take off the cumbersome excursion suit.

Barbarella pressed a wrist control on her glove, and the pressure seals in the suit deactivated. The air hoses detached and retracted. With the pressure seals off, the suit was basically a patchwork of sections which could be removed. She pulled off the gloves first. She then reached down and slid off the leggings. Next, she pulled off the helmet and shook free her strawberry blonde hair. She pulled the sleeves off, then pulled down the front flap of the suit. Easily, the rest of the suit slid off her body. Free! The suits were functional, but very stuffy. She stretched her naked body, and sighed happily.

Her hands idly caressed her skin. She still had several minutes before the main engines were fully warmed up. Floating naked in zero gravity had always been a favorite way to relax for Barbarella. She loved the feeling of being naked, released from gravity’s pull. In the last three years, however--after her sexual awakening on Tau Ceti--it had taken on definite erotic tones. Flashes of past sexual encounters ran through her mind as she pressed and squeezed he nipples. That heated first encounter with Mark Hand. The gentle touch of the angel Pygar. The long afternoon she spent with Mark Hand after destroying Dr. Duran Duran’s positronic ray, before she had left the planet. The terrible, wonderful encounter with Duran Duran’s most insidious device, the Excessive Machine.

Just as she was beginning to feel a swell of pleasure course through her, a chime sounded and the computer spoke.

“Stand by for a message from DeAnthus. President of Earth and rotating Premier of the Sun System.

Pulling her fingers from her breasts, Barbarella struggled to right herself as the presidential fanfare trumpeted over the speakers. DeAnthus, a white-haired, gentle-faced man appeared on the viewscreen. He raised his right hand in the salute of the Sun System.

“Love,” he intoned solemnly.

“Love,” she replied, raising her own right hand in return.

“Just a moment, and I can turn on the gravity, slip something on,’ she said, moving to push herself over to the console. He stopped her with a gesture.

“Don’t trouble yourself, my dear. What we have to discuss is of the gravest importance.” At these words, Barbarella froze, recognizing the president’s grave tone. Slowly, she rotated upside down.

“Barbarella, are you familiar with the Andromeda Project?”

She thought a moment. “Yes. It’s a long range listening array dedicated to searching for some hint of transmission from the Andromeda Galaxy to determine if there’s intelligent life there.”

“Good girl! The outpost is located in one of the far arms of our own galaxy; an arm which is closest to the Andromeda. We haven’t heard from the personnel in the station for over three months.”

“Three months?” Barbarella was thunderstruck.

“The outpost is to far from Earth for standard communication. We periodically send supply transports there. The last three have failed to return.”

“But, why has it taken so long for anyone to see a problem?” This made no sense to her. Three months with no word?

“Fierce solar storms in the area have made travel hazardous. We assumed that that was causing the delay. The trip from Earth alone takes several weeks. But we cannot wait any longer. Someone must go there and investigate. You, Barbarella, must go.”

“Why me?”

“Barbarella, you ship is the closest to the outpost, and clearly the fastest in the fleet. Your mission, then.”

She had floated around to an upright position, and saluted formally.

“Go to the outpost, and see to the condition of the people stationed there. How do you read me?”

“Straight.”

His kind eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “Good luck, to you, Barbarella. You will need it.” He raised his hand in farewell as the fanfare sounded again. “Love.”

She raised her own again. “Love.”

The screen went blank.

All thoughts of eroticism were now driven from her mind. Those poor people! Her head bumped the ceiling.

“Ouch.” She pushed off and floated toward the command console. A keystroke restored gravity, and a quick check confirmed that the engines were fully warmed and ready to fire.

“Alfie, how long to the Andromeda Outpost?”

Alfie’s smooth voice clicked in response. “Seven days, three hours, fourteen minutes and twelve seconds.”

“Plot a course,” she commanded as she fired up the engines, and pushed them to maximum. There wasn’t a moment to lose!

INTERLUDE

DeAnthus’ image had faded from Barbarella’s screen, but hers had not. He watched as she bustled about her cabin, preparing for her journey. Remote cameras had been placed in the Alpha 8 during its construction nearly three years ago. The main controls were in this office, and DeAnthus had used them several times over the last few years. But not willingly.

“Something troubling you, Mr. President?” said a cool voice in a shadowed corner of the room.

“Is this really necessary?”

“Oh, quite necessary, Mr. President,” the shadowy figure responded, in a slightly mocking tone. “Our deal is nearly done. As soon as I have her, I’ll remove my little weapon from Earth space, and your little planet will be completely out of danger.” The figure moved closer to the screen which still showed a naked Barbarella moving about her ship’s cabin.

“She’s very pretty, isn’t she?” the shadow said. “Very pretty. Pretty-pretty,” it said softly, recalling a memory.

“Why are you doing this?” DeAnthus asked with an anguished voice. He too looked at the screen at Barbarella, but with a pained expression. He had become quite fond of her over the years.

The shadow turned back to the president. “For the simplest reason imaginable. Revenge. I want revenge, Mr. President.”

“Revenge for what?”

“Three years ago, I had everything I could desire. Power over a kingdom of my own. My every whim catered to. And then this silly Earth girl came along and tore it all away from me. I will have my revenge.”

DeAnthus’ eyes widened in horror. “You’re going to kill her!”

“No, no my dear president. I’m not going to kill her. I have something far better in mind for her. And before you say anything else,” snapped the figure as DeAnthus opened his mouth to speak, “let me remind you of the havoc I can wreak with my little weapon. Your little world has no defense against it. The price you pay for peace. But all I want is the girl. Once she is in my possession, you will be safe from me. Now, I must depart. I have a very important appointment with dear, pretty-pretty Barbarella. I don’t want to be late. Good-bye, Mr. President”

With that, the shadow turned, and strode from the room. DeAnthus turned to the screen to see Barbarella’s image fade away as the Alpha 8 sped out of range.

“Good-bye, my dear.”

PART II

Barbarella had not been idle while in transit to the Andromeda Station. She had inspected her communications systems, reviewed Alfie’s files on the station and it personnel, and had exercised. As the ship neared the station, she brought it out of automatic pilot, and guided it into the system herself.

The Andromeda Station was located on a barren planetoid, essentially a big rock in space. The station consisted of a series of buildings connected by several clear passages. There was the main transmission monitoring tower, the personnel quarters, the supply tower, the recreation tower, and the loading bay. She angled the ship toward the loading bay, all while trying to hail the station. All she received was silence.

“Alfie, how many people are listed as being stationed here?”

“Approximately twelve dozen people. Assorted scientists, family, and support personnel.”

“Alfie, can you scan the station and tell me how many people are there?” Silence followed as the scanners hummed to life and probed the station.

“Scanners cannot penetrate the inner layers of the station, but I can detect at least thirty-seven people on the station at the present time.”

“So why don’t they answer my hail?” Barbarella thought aloud. She reached for the control panel again, and began a landing approach to the open loading bay. She also tried one more hail to the station. I don’t want to barge in unannounced, she thought. Even if no one is responding.

Suddenly, the ship lurched, and all of the automated systems crashed. The ship still drifted toward the loading bay, but Barbarella recognized the pull she now felt. A tractor beam!

“Alfie?” she called. There was no response from the computer. “Alfie!”

The ship slid smoothly into the loading bay, and touched down on the deck. All of the systems on the ship were dead. Silence fell in the cabin. Barbarella then heard the faint sound of doors sliding open, and she looked out the ship’s forward portal and saw a small group of brown-clad figures moving toward her now helpless ship. The formed a small semi-circle around the access hatch to her ship. She could clearly see them now. The wore a kind of brown armor, with helmets pulled low over their faces. Each man carried a large, nasty-looking rifle. One of the figures cracked the butt of his rifle against the door. The message was clear. Come out, or we come in after you. Barbarella moved toward the hatch.

The hatch slid open, and Barbarella made her way out of the ship, hands held open and arms held up in a surrendering gesture. Two of the guards moved behind her, while the rest formed a circle around her. The one who had banged on her ship motioned for her to hold out her hands. Barbarella complied, and he snapped a pair of silver bands on her wrists. He then bent down and snapped another pair around her ankles. The guards then set off, with Barbarella at the center, and marched her into the complex. The group marched for several minutes, weaving in and out of corridors until Barbarella was thoroughly lost.

Finally, they tuned out of the corridor into a small, bare metal room, lit only in the center with a bright light. Barbarella was taken to the center of the room, under the light.. The guards raised her arms and spread her legs out until she was in a spread-eagle pose. Then, the lead guard toggled a small control on his belt. She felt the bands around her wrists and ankles hum with power, and found she couldn’t move them. They were frozen in place. Barbarella’s eyes grew wide when another guard approached her and produced a small knife. He seized the neck of her suit and began to cut it off her body. She gasped as another guard approached and began the same on her other side, and within seconds, her suit lay in crumpled heap on the floor. She stood in the middle of the room, stark naked, surrounded by strange, heavily armed men. This was not good.

“Welcome, Barbarella. It’s so nice to see you again,” said a smooth voice from behind her. She turned her head, but saw only a shadowy figure. But she knew that voice. A feeling of dread began to rise in her. “So nice to see you, pretty-pretty.”

The figure circled around in front of her and stepped into the light. Barbarella looked into a face she never thought she’d see again. The face of Dr. Duran Duran.

Duran Duran smiled wickedly. His hair had turned completely white. His face was more lined when she had last seen it, but the malevolence was still there. He looked at Barbarella, eyeing her entire body. She was fit and trim. Her waist was slim and taut, her hips round and smooth, her breasts firm and her nipples he was pleased to see were erect. He wanted her, as he had from the moment he first saw her, but he had different things in store for her than sex with him.

“You!” stammered Barbarella. “But you...you’re dead!” His wicked smile widened.

“No, my dear. I never felt comfortable living in Sogo without a few pre-planned means of escape. After you and the Great Tyrant unleashed the Mathmos, thus destroying the city, I was able to reach a small ship and leave the planet.” He fingered a control on his belt, and suddenly, Barbarella felt herself turning in midair until she was floating horizontally, facing the ceiling.

“After several months I reached Earth. I admit it was nice to see it again. It was also nice to begin planning my revenge on you.”

“On me? What have I done to you? You’re the one who tried to kill me! Several times!”

“And you,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, “cost me everything. I had power, I had glory, I had the fulfillment of any desire I had, however depraved. And you took it all away.” He walked for a door on the far side of the room, and Barbarella’s helpless floating form followed. They entered a long corridor, and he continued.

“The moment I reached Earth, I began to plan my revenge. It took three years but it was worth it.” He pressed another control in his belt, and viewscreens lining the corridor lit with various images. Images of Barbarella.

“It was absurdly simple to blackmail DeAnthus into doing what I asked of him. I had recreated my positronic ray, and I threatened to use it on Earth if he didn’t comply.”

Barbarella stared sunned at the hundreds of images of her in her own spaceship. Going about ordinary tasks, bathing, floating, even masturbating. Moments when she thought herself alone.

“He made it possible for me to install hidden cameras throughout your little ship, Barbarella. So I could keep an eye on you.” They reached the end of the corridor, and another door slid open. They entered a dark room.

“He also gave me this station, that I may complete my preparations of my vengeance. I was even able to find our old friend, the Great Tyrant, and enlist her aid in my revenge.” Barbarella had taken the Great Tyrant to Earth after the events in Sogo. She had lost track of her soon after that, but merely assumed that the Tyrant had left Earth in search of planets on which to practice her wicked ways.

“Three years of planning, of waiting. And now, Barbarella. I have you. Oh, don’t worry...” he said seeing the look in her face. “I will not harm your precious planet.” The lights came on, and she could see that she was in a vast chamber.

“I have what I want.” He toggle the belt control and she began to turn vertically again.

“I have you.” Numerous ominous looking devices lined the walls. The look and feel of the place reminded her of Sogo.

“And my vengeance can begin.” She snapped fully upright and gasped. In the center of the room, the means of Duran Duran’s vengeance, the thing that had haunted her dreams for three years and had filled her with both dread and longing, was the Excessive Machine.

PART III

A strange feeling rose in Barbarella’s chest. A mixture of dread and excitement. The machine looked just as it did when she encountered it in Sogo three years ago. The oval shape; the energy cables connected to the side of it, feeding it energy; the arms lining the front, leading up from the keyboard from which the machine was “played”; all looked exactly the same. Standing next to the machine, dressed in a long black gown, was another familiar looking person.

“You!” Barbarella exclaimed. “The Great Tyrant!”

The Great Tyrant smiled at Barbarella, but her expression was blank, unfocused, distant.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Barbarella, hoping to delay what she knew must come next.

“Oh, nothing serious,” Duran Duran replied. “She’s just feeling the effects.”

A chill ran down Barbarella’s spine. “Effects of what?” She had a feeling she already knew.

“The effects of the machine, of course. I needed to test it after all. We can’t have a repeat of Sogo now, can we? That wouldn’t do. No, that wouldn’t do at all.” He fingered a control on his belt, and she felt the power in her bands fade. She could move her arms and legs again. Before she could even think of running, though, Duran Duran raised a pistol.

“I admit I underestimated you, Barbarella. My Excessive Machine was designed to kill women with pleasure, and it always worked flawlessly. But that was with women from Sogo. Women who were already weak from so many other depravities, from the Mathmos itself. But you, you were fresh. I daresay, coming from Earth, that your experiences there were your first experiences with...carnal pleasures. I underestimated your endurance. That won’t happen again. I have redesigned my machine. It is more powerful, more effective, and much more durable. She helped me with that.” He motioned toward the Tyrant, who was still standing next to the machine. She seems to be regaining some sense of herself, because she kept looking at Barbarella, then at the machine, and a knowing, malevolent smile began to play across her lips.

Duran Duran now motioned Barbarella toward the machine.

“Get in, Barbarella.”

She walked over to the machine. She was trembling. She wasn’t sure if it was fear or desire. Her previous experience in this machine was easily the most intense sexual experience she had ever had. So intense was the pleasure, that she could barely stand it, yet she had not wanted it to stop. What better type of torture is there, she had wondered. And while she had indeed overloaded the machine, it had been just barely. She could feel the toll it was taking on her while she was in it, and another minute or two, and she probably would have succumbed to the machine. She would have died.

Barbarella slid feet first into the machine, and no sooner had she done so, then the Tyrant pressed a control. The machine hummed with power, and the bands on her ankles were suddenly held fast. Her legs were slightly spread, and restrained. Her wrist bands pulled over her head and locked into the machine. She was now firmly trapped in the machine. Duran Duran strode over to the keyboard.

“So that’s it? Three years of planning, and you’re just going to kill me?” Barbarella couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice. She was trying to stall him. It had nearly killed her before. If it had been improved, she doubted she could survive this time.

“Kill you? Who said anything about killing you?” He saw the fear, and the surprise on her face. He laughed.

“Oh, I admit I thought about little else for two years. But it eventually dawned on me, why just kill you. That would be satisfying, but too quick. Far too quick. No, I have a much better idea. This machine could now kill you, of that I’m certain. But I’d rather see just how much you can stand. So we’ll take this nice and slow. See what your limits are. Then maybe we’ll push you just a little past them. Then a little more. See how long it takes before we break that wonderful spirit of yours. No, I’m not going to kill you, Barbarella. I’m going to torture you with ecstasy until you break.” And with that, he began to play. The machine sprang to life.

“OHHH! <gasp> OOOOHHHHHHHHHH!” Barbarella tensed as the machine began to play, and pleasure flooded her body. It was, as he claimed, even more intense than she remembered. Just like before, after that first surge of pleasure, the machine eased up on the intensity, generating a gentle tickle in her body that began to build in intensity.

“OHH! Ha ha ha ha! Mmmmmm. Ahhhhh!”

She could feel the pleasure building quickly. She tried to take her mind from it. She tried analyzing what made the machine work. Under the undulating arms of the machine was a thin film of some plastic-like material. Sensors in the machine detected the most erogenous zones in her body. Light static charges were generated by the arms. These charges were diffused by the film, and directed into her body, stimulating the nerve endings in her body, creating waves of pleasure. The sensors monitored her responses and directed the static charges to the areas where they were most effective. Duran Duran’s playing modulated the speed and intensity of the charges. Her fists clenched and her toes curled as the pleasure increased. She was quickly building toward an orgasm. With her wrists and ankles held fast, she wondered about the next step in the machine’s operation. The last machine generated a powerful suction that not only stripped its captive of her clothes, but kept her pulled into the machine. That suction pulled her down on the machine’s next device. But now, Barbarella could feel it raising itself into position. A device shaped to fit a woman’s crotch raised into position in her groin. As it clicked into place, a receiver on the top collected the static charges from the undulating arms, and directed them at her vagina, specifically, into her now swollen and sensitive clitoris. Sensors modulated the intensity of this too, raising and lowering the power as needed. As the charges began to strobe across her clit, Barbarella felt the orgasm that had been building now thunder through her.

“OOOHHHHHH!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

Her body tensed, her back arched, she threw her head back as she rode out the orgasmic wave. She slumped back into the machine, breathing heavily. With her wrists and ankles held fast, she could barely move to escape the pleasure. And it began building again, faster than before. She tried to take her mind off it, but now that the first orgasm had taken her, she couldn’t escape it.

“OOOHHHHHH! Oooooooooooo Ah Ah AAAHHHHHHHH!” She wriggled and writhed, her moans turning to squeals as the pleasure increased.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” The next orgasm came faster than she expected, and the third arrived almost on top of that.

“OH NO! NO NO NO NOOOO OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

Duran Duran played gleefully, enjoying the sight of her helpless body, her moans of pleasure. He glanced over at the Tyrant, who was watching with a pleased, almost envious expression on her face. Duran Duran found her not long after he arrived on Earth. They had formed a partnership of sorts, but he soon overpowered her, and used her as his test subject as he built this new Excessive Machine. He had firmly broken her will, and she willingly served and aided him now. Soon, her thought, Barbarella will join her.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! AAAAAOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!”

But hopefully not too soon, he thought. I am enjoying this.

The ecstasy now surging through her like tidal waves was more intense than any she had ever known, even than in her last encounter with the machine. Between orgasms, Barbarella became dimly aware of the fact that the machine was still playing at a moderate tempo. Duran Duran had not sped up at all. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Well, that should be enough to get it warmed up,” Duran Duran announced suddenly, rising from the keyboard. Incredibly, the machine continued to play. Barbarella’s head snapped up in shock. Warmed up?!?

“Wh-wh-what!” she stammered, her voice breathy.

“Yes, I think we can really turn it loose now. Oh, I forgot to mention, it can be played manually, or automatically. And it’s designed to monitor your responses and give you just the right amount of pleasure. But not too much. At least not yet. Now, I have some things to attend to, Barbarella. But I’ll be back to check on you later. Enjoy.” With that, he pressed a switch, and he and the Tyrant strode out of the room.

Barbarella didn’t notice their departure, though, because the machine suddenly kicked into a higher gear. The speed and intensity increased dramatically, and she was instantly seized with the most powerful orgasm yet. She felt a spurting wetness between her legs. She had just ejaculated! The pleasure climbed again. It was like steam building up inside her, and the orgasms were like the release valve. Each release was more intense than the last, each buildup of pressure, of pleasure, greater than the one before. Moans and squeals turned to breathless cries of ecstasy. Just when she feared she might pass out, the machine eased back, diminishing the pleasure, giving her a few moments of blessed relief before flooding her with a fresh wave of pleasure, driving her to another plateau of ecstasy. Sweat poured down her body. Again and again she tensed, shook with orgasm. ejaculated, and slumped back, drained and exhausted. And again and again, the machine drove her right back to the brink of orgasm, and pushed her over. She was no longer aware of the sounds she was making, of the unconscious clenching and unclenching of her fists, of her toes curling with each climax, even of the squirting from her dripping pussy. All she could feel was indescribable ecstasy. A rapture beyond anything she had ever felt or imagined. A feeling sure to drive her mad.

Barbarella suddenly arched her back, seized by another climax. She threw her head back an screamed. Her every muscle tensed. Her vagina shot fluid out with great force. She thought she could see colors, explosions of color behind her eyes. She thought her very hair must be cumming. And she finally slumped back in the machine, exhausted, drained, every nerve tingling, her crotch dripping, and she finally passed out. Following its programming, the machine had pleasured her for thirty minutes, then delivered the most intense orgasm it could, and shut down. It had performed flawlessly. No signs of overheating, or overload.

Duran Duran strode back into the room, having watched the entire thing from the observation booth off to the side. He was followed by several of the brown-clad guards. They eased Barbarella’s limp, sweaty body from the machine, brought over a floating stretcher, placed her on it, and guided it out of the room. A good beginning, Duran Duran thought. Tomorrow, he would see how she handled forty-five minutes in the machine. His eyes scanned the walls, looking over the devices placed there. All his inventions. All designed for ecstatic torture. Soon, he would subject Barbarella to these as well. And eventually, he would return to Earth, conquer it, and use these on the women there as well.

Duran Duran clapped his hands together eagerly, and strode from the room.

END