Renata Subjugated Me in a Suit of Wires and Shocks

The light from outside had blinded me for an instant, and my eyes took a while to adjust. Little by little, I began to recognize what surrounded me. The transport cabin was behind me, lined up beside many others that ran along the side wall. The place was like an enormous hangar, full of doors and huge windows.

There were indicators everywhere and a multitude of people—and things that were not people—moving, flying, or crawling around. It was a parade of colors in which I could barely distinguish a familiar costume, and my eyes did not know where to look.

A constant murmur filled my ears. After my recent experience with the transport, I felt as though I was going to faint again. And as my body tipped backward, a gust of air and two arms caught me from behind, stopping me halfway through the fall.

“Red Spark! How fantastic to see you again!” exclaimed Steel Titania, hands on her hips, turning to see me held up by my unexpected savior.

Once I focused my eyes, and after hearing his name, I recognized him. He was a young man of no more than twenty-five, wearing a bright crimson suit that outlined every tense muscle. His hood had fallen back, so I saw his blond hair and deep green eyes, which looked at me with sparks in their pupils. Literally. He was the speedster of the Legion of Dawn, and the youngest of them all.

“Stee lTitania! Tide! Whatagreatmeetingwe’rehavinghere! Howhaveyoubeen? Didyoumissme?” Red Spark kept swiveling his head at tremendous speed to address both of them, making blurs of his figure and sparks in the air. In the blink of an eye, he stood me upright, smoothed my clothes, and fixed my hair with a smile. “Tide, whenever you want, we’ll pick up that movie again.”

“Red, you’re talking too fast again,” Titania pointed out, and that was enough to make him withdraw his hand from my face. “Did you two already know each other?”

“N… no,” I answered shyly, staring at his yellow boots decorated with lightning bolts on the sides.

“Oops,” said Red Spark, without seeming terribly embarrassed. “Sorry, heh heh. I’ve just come back from a mission in 2140, and I can still feel some temporal residue; I’m not quite sure what era we’re in. Ah! So this is our first meeting.” He stepped back two paces and leaned forward. “My name is Theodore Lansky, and my favorite movies are the ones from the sixties.”

“RED! Do you think it’s all right to say your name like that, openly?” Titania snapped, arms crossed and wearing an expression of clear disapproval.

“Don’t worry, Titania. There’s no problem with her.” He winked at me and pulled up his hood, which left his mouth and chin exposed. “I have to run, conduct a general survey, and then calculate the return moment properly. See you!”

Before either of us could answer, his blur had already sped away, followed by a gust of air that bothered everyone in its path. I stood speechless as my hair fell back over my forehead. Titania had one palm over her face and her eyes closed. I understood nothing of what had just happened.

“Try not to attach too much importance to it. Red Spark is usually like that: he lives at an accelerated pace and often in another timeline.” As though that explanation were enough, she wrapped her right arm around my shoulders and indicated the way with gentle nudges. My legs reacted on their own and began following her directions.

Along the way we crossed paths with a great many people: some waved energetically, others argued heatedly, and others meditated, oblivious to their surroundings. Cloaks, shields, runes, automatons, and creatures that did not seem human moved through the broad corridors. Titania waved a hand in greeting, but no one was there to socialize.

After a route I doubted I could remember, we reached some white corridors where the colorful capes had vanished and lab coats were abundant. All the doors seemed identical. Voices could barely be heard, and the people who passed us did not even notice us: they moved hurriedly, going in and out of those identical doors.

At last Titania stopped in front of one and pushed it open gently without knocking, indicating that I should follow her. Inside was unfamiliar machinery subjecting materials to pressure, heat, and cold. It was a circular room with a dark corridor leading away to one side. I assumed Titania was looking for someone, but she remained still, saying nothing. And since she did not speak, neither did I. We stayed that way for several endless minutes, hearing only the machines repeat the same movements over and over.

Very gradually, I began to hear a murmur approaching down the corridor. Two voices were arguing, and I could understand more and more of what they were saying, although without context it did not make much sense.

“…insists on adding the lead, but that would increase the weight of the structure terribly, however effective it may be,” said a hoarse male voice.

“Doctor, we’re working with people who lift buildings. Do you really think it would make much difference?” replied a younger female voice.

“Like everything else, it’s a matter of professional elegance. There is always a better way to optimize things.”

“That’s what the design department is for.”

Those were the last words of their conversation, spoken just as they noticed the imposing figure of the heroine beside whom I had been waiting. Both hurried forward nervously until they stood before us. The man with the hoarse voice was as tall as Titania and wore large round glasses that reflected outward; his eyes could not be seen. His white hair fell untidily to his shoulders, and the lab coat ran down his thin figure like a tube. He held a flask containing a green liquid with an acidic smell, which he shook carelessly.

His companion, on the other hand, was barely taller than me. She had rectangular glasses and an expression of constant disapproval. Her hair was short, shaved on the right side and falling over the left, orange enough to stand out in that environment. She also wore a white lab coat, but it was so short that it barely passed her hips, leaving the skin of her thighs visible before it was covered by a pair of long black boots.

“Ah, Steel Titania! What a pleasure to see you. I received your notice that you were coming, but I’d forgotten about it. Fortunately, Renata here reminds me of everything very meticulously.” The man spoke quickly, without much expression. He leaned toward me, and I saw my own face reflected in his glasses. “So this is the new heroine you mentioned, is it?” He continued shaking that flask, now very close to me.

“Calm down, Doctor Kessler. She’s still a person,” Titania told him calmly.

“Tsk. Another rookie,” Renata snorted listlessly. I could not tell whether she wanted me to hear her or not.

“Ah, yes, yes.” The doctor straightened. “And what are her abilities?” I thought he was asking me, but Titania answered.

“Liquid manipulation.”

“Ohhh, an elemental? I haven’t worked with one in a long time.” The doctor seemed excited and shook the acidic liquid more vigorously.

“Cough, cough. Rookie. Cough,” Renata pretended to cough, managing to irritate me. At the same time, I felt a certain embarrassment at the doctor’s emphasis.

“That’s right. She’s been practicing with her powers, but she still doesn’t know their limits. She also needs a suit,” Titania replied over the false coughing.

“Yes, yes. The testing phase. It’s been a long time since an elemental manipulator appeared. Let’s begin as soon as possible. Will you be staying too?”

“Yes. I’d like to be present and observe the process.”

“Excellent. Follow me to Testing Room 17.” Kessler kept talking, but his feet were already carrying him back down the corridor, his back to us.

“Tsk… yes, Doctor.” Renata spun around and followed him. I noticed that she pulled her lab coat downward, as though it were a skirt that was too short. I was beginning to understand that her disapproval was simply natural to her, directed at everything.

Titania extended her right arm toward the corridor while wrapping her left around my shoulders and gently pushing me along. I felt very uncomfortable. Since reuniting with my heroine, I had not managed to put together a complete sentence: everything I had experienced had invaded me all at once. I must have been coming across as an idiot. I started walking and decided to let things run their course; once everything was over, I would have time to think it through.

***

We went down the corridor to what looked like an exit. There, the doctor said something to his assistant, who left through a door. He instructed me to enter through a second one, then went upstairs with Titania. They were going to place me in a testing chamber to study my abilities. When I crossed the door, I saw lockers and long benches; at the back was the last door before the testing area. The place was lit in yellow tones, and there was no one there.

Renata appeared behind me. She had put the pen in her pocket and still held the notepad in one hand. She carried a plastic package, which she held out to me with her arm extended.

“This suit is a readings provider. It adjusts to your body and sends your physical data directly to the computers for processing.”

I took the bag in both hands. It was rigid, and I had trouble finding the opening. Renata was taking notes rapidly. Was she evaluating every movement I made? I heard her mutter a complaint and summoned the strength to ask her:

“Is there something about me that bothers you?” Without stopping her writing, she answered:

“Tsk… to tell the truth, yes, but that isn’t what concerns us today. Perhaps you superheroes have time to chat and drink coffee, but here we devote ourselves body and soul to research.”

“Steel Titania and so many others devote their lives to fighting for all of us,” I replied as politely as I could, without showing how much her contempt bothered me.

“Yes. The Five Banners may have some merit; they took on a responsibility and took it seriously. And yet here is one of them, leaving us a rookie as if this were a daycare.” I was about to answer, but when I pulled the suit out of the envelope I became so confused that I lost the thread of the conversation.

The thing that could, with luck, be called a “suit” was more wires than fabric. Like a complicated piece of gothic lingerie, except not black but flesh-colored, with countless open straps for adjustment around different parts of the body. I had no idea where I was supposed to put it on.

“Tsk…” Renata complained again, ruffling her bangs with the air she blew out through her mouth. “First you have to take your clothes off.” She was no longer taking notes. Now she had one hand on her hip and was looking at me with annoyance and disdain. Since I had no intention of provoking her for the moment, I left the suit on a bench and began to undress. This time I had put on black boxer briefs and a sports bra, so I would not find myself in another embarrassing situation. I left my T-shirt and leggings in the nearest locker and was about to pick up the suit from the bench when another complaint distracted me.

“Rookie… the body has to be in complete contact with the suit.” I stared at her with my eyes wide open. “Tsk… that means you have to take off your underwear too.”

I felt uncomfortable, and I think she noticed, because she told me to hurry and turned around. I quickly removed the few garments I had left on. My tits bounced, relieved to be free of the pressure of the bra, my nipples already erect from the cold air in the room. When I pulled the black boxer briefs down my legs, a tingle ran through me as I felt the air pass between my thighs, brushing my naked pussy. I remained there for a moment, completely naked, staring at Renata’s back, feeling my own juices beginning to dampen the folds slightly before I could stop them. I took the strange suit and began turning it around without success, unable to figure out how to put it on. I turned toward Renata, who was still facing away, and asked her for instructions.

“Tsk… didn’t I tell you? Rookies… they don’t even know how to put on a suit.” She left the notepad on the bench and snatched the garment from my hands. “Hold out your arms.” I obeyed every instruction in silence. She kept clicking her tongue with each movement.

She passed two straps over my arms and raised them to my shoulders; then she crossed several wires behind my head and, with a click, fastened them in a kind of collar around my neck. She took my right arm and put one fastener at my elbow and another at my wrist, followed by five connectors branching to each finger. Then she did the same with my other arm. Her fingers moved with the cold efficiency of someone handling a mannequin, but every brush against my bare skin drew short breaths from me, which I tried to conceal.

She positioned herself behind me and ordered me to raise my arms above my head. Her body pressed against mine. I felt the edge of her lab coat brush my naked ass and the warmth of her thighs pressing against mine while her hands crossed along the sides of my hips, connecting wires to one another. Her breath struck the nape of my neck and raised every hair. Suddenly she seized my left tit with her entire palm and squeezed it hard to pass more straps and connectors over it like a harness. Her fingers kneaded the flesh without the slightest delicacy, searching for adjustment points, and when her thumb brushed squarely over my hardened nipple, I could not stop myself from flinching and letting out a low moan. In a trembling voice, I assured her that if she only gave me the instructions, I could do it myself.

“Tsk. Sure.” She continued as if she had not heard me. Her hands did not stop kneading my body to arrange the apparatus. She pinched the base of my right tit to pass a wire underneath it, and the tug drew another gasp from me. With her index finger and thumb, she encircled each nipple to slide two transparent plastic rings over them, enclosing them like tiny hoops. She rubbed them as she adjusted them, and my nipples became so hard and sensitive that it hurt. My pussy was burning, moisture already running down the inner side of one thigh. When she finished with the wires on my torso, she adjusted them behind my back and turned me around to face her. With a disapproving gesture, she said:

“It’s loose. Obviously, the previous wearer had better attributes than you.” Without waiting for a response, she brought her hands back to my tits, squeezing them at once with both open palms. She moved them sideways, lifted them, pressed them together, and adjusted something beneath my armpit; she held them upward and tightened something on my abdomen. Her fingers slipped between the rings and my nipples, and she pinched them firmly “to test the fit.” A lash of pleasure shot from there to my clitoris. She continued like that, nearly milking me, until she was satisfied. By the time the suit was “properly fitted,” I looked at myself: my erect nipples were barely covered by two flesh-colored triangles of fabric, crossed by the rings that raised them obscenely, while my tits were surrounded by wires like a spiderweb, squeezing them and pushing them forward until I felt they were about to burst. My crotch throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

“Let’s continue downward.” She stretched more wires over my hips and down to my thighs, continuing toward my ankles. She crouched in front of me and repeated on my feet and calves the same treatment she had given my arms. From that angle I could see her crotch, no longer covered by her lab coat, as if she were deliberately showing it to me. She wore a purple lace thong with transparent sections; the minimal fabric disappeared between her buttocks and barely covered the slit of her pussy in front. Looking more closely, I noticed transparent wires, similar to those in my suit, descending from her waist and entering on both sides of her underwear, pressing against her lips and disappearing inside. I also saw a dark stain, the size of a coin, showing through the crotch of the purple fabric. It was wet. She was as wet as I was. A squeeze on my calves brought me back to reality as she stood up. Only one set of wires remained, hanging from my navel to above my knees, brushing my pubic mound with every breath.

Renata positioned herself behind me and ordered in a firm voice:

“Spread your legs.”

I obeyed without thinking. I separated my feet more than necessary. Although I could not see her, I knew she had crouched behind me, and I felt her hot breath strike directly against the skin of my naked ass. She reached one hand between my spread legs, took the set of wires hanging from my navel, and pulled it backward, passing it right down the middle and squeezing the soaked slit of my pussy with one sharp tug. A high moan escaped before I could bite my lip. The wires sank between my already slippery lips, and she pulled them hard to leave them taut between my buttocks. Then, keeping the material stretched, she began pressing it firmly along my crotch, running and rerunning her fingers over the wet cleft, adjusting every little strap and taking advantage of every technical excuse to stroke my clitoris with her knuckle. I began breathing heavily. No matter how much I did not want it, my body had reacted violently and had been dripping ever since Renata began handling me as she pleased. I felt one of her fingers slide into my pussy, a whole finger to the knuckle, supposedly to adjust a wire. I choked back a long gasp. She moved the finger inside a couple of times, like someone inspecting a component, then slowly pulled it out, dragging a strand of thick fluid with it.

I felt her hands withdraw abruptly and heard her exclaim:

“God, are you lubricating yourself now? Seriously?” I was dying of embarrassment; I did not dare answer, and my face felt hot. “I’m asking you to be more professional. My hands don’t matter, but if you keep getting wet like a bitch in heat, you could interfere with the readings. Tsk…”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her bring her soaked fingers to her mouth. She put them entirely between her lips and sucked them slowly, savoring my juices, until she pulled them out clean with a small “pop.” Then she wiped them on her lab coat as if nothing had happened. I had not finished processing it when an aggressive slap crashed against my wet pussy from behind. The smack was obscene and damp, and the sting went through my entire body. A strangled cry escaped me. Almost without my realizing it, Renata had crossed all the remaining wires between my buttocks and fastened them at the sides with two rings at waist level. A minimal piece of fabric covered my soaked pussy again, crossed by several wires that dug into my lips and clitoris every time I moved. It was like an almost-thong… except with several strings instead of one, all of them rubbing me where I burned the most. Every step I took from then on would be torture.

Before moving away completely, she slid her fingers behind me and pushed her thumb between my buttocks, pressing against the string running through my ass, as if to “finish adjusting it.” She shoved it in so deeply that the wire sank too, brushing my anus, and I let out another moan, huskier than before, unsure whether it was a protest or a plea. Renata noticed. I heard her give a dry little laugh, the first since I had met her.

“Look at you. The whole room smells like you. You’re going to leave a puddle on the laboratory floor, rookie.”

***

We faced each other again. She stared directly at the dark, spreading stain between my thighs, making no attempt to hide it. She ran her tongue over her lips. Renata took a communicator from her pocket and spoke aloud:

“Doctor, the suit is in position. I’m sending the first readings to verify its operation.”

The doctor’s voice came through a loudspeaker:

“Everything is ready. I’ve sent the signal to confirm the readings.” Renata put away the communicator and took out another device with a red button, which she pressed firmly without hesitation.

At once I felt a mild electric shock run through my entire body. My nipples burned inside the rings and grew even harder. I flinched and covered myself with my arms on pure instinct. A second shock arrived, more powerful this time, concentrated in my pussy, exactly where the wires squeezed my clitoris. It was as though an electric tongue were licking me inside. I involuntarily grew even wetter and felt a little stream run down my thigh. A long moan escaped before I could cover it with my hand. I bent forward while squeezing my legs together, and as I did, the taut string between my lips sank deeper, rubbing directly against my swollen clitoris. Through half-closed eyes, I saw that Renata had picked up her notepad again and was watching me without any expression, although her other hand had discreetly slid down to rest on her own thigh, very close to her stained crotch. A third shock struck my folds with such force that I could not remain standing and fell to my knees, panting, my tits bouncing from the momentum and my mouth hanging open.

“Readings and signals analyzed correctly,” the doctor said over the speaker.

“Correct. I’m heading to the control booth,” Renata replied, crouching with her legs spread in front of me. From that height I saw her purple thong again, now thoroughly soaked; a shiny thread of fluid ran along the inside of her thigh. She was as aroused as I was, or more. “The tests begin now. Go through that door.” She leaned forward until her mouth was a handspan from mine and added, almost in a whisper: “If you weren’t wet, it wouldn’t have hurt at all. Your own misguided pussy betrayed you, Drip.”

As she drew out the words, she pinched my face and gave me a soft slap in the same place. Then she lowered her hand and, with two fingers, pressed without warning against the string between my thighs, pushing it deep against my soaked pussy. I arched up on my knees, hands braced on the floor, unable to hold back another moan. Renata kept her fingers there a second longer than necessary, feeling it throb, then withdrew them and brought them to her nose, shamelessly smelling them. Perhaps I was delirious, but it seemed to me that her thong showed even more clearly now and grew darker right over her sex, a wet circle expanding before my eyes. She stood, adjusted her lab coat over her hips, and, turning her back to me, left through the entrance door with the slightest sway, leaving me on my knees, trembling, my pussy throbbing and a small puddle beginning to form between my spread thighs.