Time meant nothing.
How long had it been now?
No way to gauge the passage of time. There was no way to tell. The windowless room was continually bathed in bright florescent light. The very concept itself seemed so remote. Distant. Part of a different life. A different universe.
Locked alone in this windowless cell.
So alone. So frightened. Terror and fear gripped her now.
Powerless.
She had sobbed.
Cried.
Screamed.
Yelled.
Clawed desperately at the immovable door.
Nothing.
No sound.
Nobody came.
Alone.
Terrified.
Completely naked in this hard clinical room. Well almost naked. She would have preferred naked. The horrible collar held her neck tight. Solid black plastic, encircled her neck, stretching it painfully, forcing her head upwards. No mobility at all. She could move her head up a fraction but that was all. Struggle as she may, the collar was locked tight. It was impossible to remove. That was frightening. What was it? Who had put it on her? What did it mean? Too much to take in. So alone.
Her world was a small white room, white tiled floor and walls, fluorescent lights recessed into a white ceiling. They never went off. A continual glow of bright light. No furniture at all in the room. A central drain in the tiled floor through which she’d learned to expel her own waste. A small trough had been built into the wall opposite the blank metal door. Through a tube over it, some sort of sludge that passed for food was periodically dumped into it. No utensils provided so she’d learned to eat the sticky mess off her fingers, sucking the gooey slop from her messy hands.
Then the voice had boomed through her blank world. Startled at the sound. Echoed through the silence. Deafening almost. Staggered up from the foetal position she’d lain in on the cold hard floor. Looked around frantically. No one. Still alone in the room. The voice seemed to be coming from all around her. All directions. Twisted her body around in a vain attempt at searching. Nothing.
Listened now. Familiar. Frightening. Felt a chill. The voice spoke clearly. Distinct sentences. No emotion. Icy calm.
“I must obey.”
“I am a slave.”
“Obedience is pleasure.”
Over and over. Same three sentences repeated again and again. It was on some sort of loop. Same dull monotone ringing around the room. Then she realised why it was familiar. So hard to believe. It was her own voice. She was speaking these things. It couldn’t be. She’d never said such things. Screamed in pain. What was happening to her?
The initial shock had worn off after a time. The voice became a constant companion. Like the lights, it never wavered. Kept repeating the same sentences over and over again. Didn’t hear it now. Lay curled up on the floor as usual. She was beyond caring. Lived for the moment. Lived to crawl to the trough, eat and crap and then curl back again to the cold familiar floor. Hard to see anything. A lethargy overcame her. No longer worried about anything. Not frightened. She had gone way beyond that by now.
Doubt wormed away at her mind.
Was the voice from outside?
It was her voice?
Was inside her head?
Was she making herself hear these things?
What did it mean?
Was she a slave?
What did being a slave mean?
Was it a good thing?
The room was empty apart from a single occupant staring intently at a bank of flickering screens. She could see the back of the seated woman, glowing faintly in the reflected blue from the screens. She walked over to stand beside the woman who had still not given any sign of being aware of her arrival.
The woman just stared at the screens. Two screens active; two identical white rooms, two naked girls lay helplessly within. A wry little smile contorted her lips. The one in Indoctrination Chamber 2 was quite cute. Remembered her when she’d been brought in, helpless, drugged body. A smooth complexion, soft and generous breasts, an oval face, blue eyes, red healthy lips. The younger of the two sisters.
“Report epsilon,” she commanded. Breaking the spell.
The seated woman spoke. A dull monotone. Clear. Precise.
“Both subjects have responded to conditioning as predicted. Both subjects exhibit signs of acceptance and docility. Both subjects have begun the repeat the audio commands. There have been no visible signs of non-compliance in the past thirty hours.”
The woman called epsilon kept staring at the monitors. She had not been ordered not to.
Twisted her neck slightly to gaze at this statuesque seated apparition. A tall, strong ebony skinned woman in her early twenties. Muscles well developed for lifting and carrying as well as for restraining unyielding subjects if necessary. She wore a standard uniform: long, high, skin tight black vinyl/leather boots encased her feet and above that, a black covering made of the same material hid her groin. Finally she wore a grey coloured long sleeved top. Made of some sort of soft artificial fabric, the short bodied top reached to just under her ample breasts, baring her toned body from there down to the vinyl thong. The huge collar of the garment had been pulled right up over the girl’s head. It disappeared beneath the folds of soft material leaving just an impression of a well defined face beneath. An opening in the top of the mask allowed the, long, tightly bound ponytail to be displayed like a horses tail. Still had a very faint trace of an accent in her voice even after all this time. Spanish or South American? It didn’t matter now.
“Very good,” she answered. “Continue Indoctrination procedure for another twelve hours. The we can begin to brainwash our two new arrivals properly.”
“Yes mistress.” A dull, mechanical reply from behind epsilon’s mask.
Looked at the two passive captives. Saw their mouths moving in time with the synthesised copies of their own voices being broadcast into each cell from the concealed speakers. Important to soften them up first. Break their will to resist by showing how alone, how powerless they were. After a week of complete isolation, lack of human contact and terror it was much easier for them to believe in the new truths that were going to be revealed to them. Much easier. Their minds would soak it up like sponges. She smiled again. This was always such fun.
Time enough for fun later on. Always more work to be done.
It was unreal. The door had opened. People. Couldn’t believe it. At last she knew that there was someone else here. The women entered the bare, stinking cell. Felt herself being lifted up by strong controlling hands. Strong.
Stared at them in disbelief. Being dragged between them. So tired. Eyes sleepy.
They were out in some corridor. Different lights now. Nobody spoke.
She couldn’t speak. Too tired.
The frightening women in grey and leather carried her on.
Inside another room now. Different. White again. Chairs. Sort of like going to the dentist somehow. Weird. Was she ill? Being taken towards one.
Felt her naked body against the cool plastic. One of the grey women straddled her in the chair. Only inches away from her face. A strong profile that even the mask of grey material could not hide completely. Chocolate coloured skin broke through the anonymous uniform of black vinyl and grey material.
Pretty, she thought distractedly. Gazing casually almost at her captor. Somehow, wasn’t afraid.
The woman’s eyes gleamed dully. Dead somehow? The other grey woman was putting straps around her legs and hands. Felt them tighten.
Then the black woman who’d straddled her was gone. Pinned to the chair. Couldn’t move even if she had been able to. A blur.
One of them was beside her now. Aware of her fiddling with something above the chair. Something metal and shiny.
Curious.
Not frightened somehow.
Why not?
She should be frightened. She should be very frightened. But just couldn’t.
The strong powerful women were so in control. She was weak and alone.
They know what to do.
Something covering her eyes now. Darkness. Couldn’t see in the inky blackness as her eyes struggled to adjust to the unaccustomed darkness.
Then colours.
Something flashing in her eyes.
Dazzling, bright, vibrant colours. Swirling in spectacular random patterns changing and pulsating with life and vibrancy. So beautiful. So staggeringly beautiful. Had to look. There was no way she could take her eyes off the captivating display. Dissolved her thoughts.
Blankness overcame her. Still.
They had been taken back to their cells. A mild first brainwashing session designed to copperfasten the lessons they had been taught in their cells.
Dependance. Obedience. Powerlessness.
The two girls had the glazed look of the newly brainwashed. The new truths burned brightly in their minds now. The beginning of their new existence.
She smiled. The screens diminished the sense of power. It put distance between her and the prey. Power felt good.
The cute girl in Indoctrination Chamber 2 was standing in the centre of the floor. Looked quite lost. Vulnerable.
Her elder sister in the other Chamber had slumped to the ground. Exhausted completely by the ordeal. She’d submitted already. The body language said that. She would have no problems with that one.
Took the microphone. Spoke clearly.
“You are a slave,” she barked harshly.
The speakers in both Chambers boomed her voice over the helpless victims. Watched them react on the screens.
The cute slave had stiffened to attention, arms by her sides, chest thrust out. A reflex action. Her older sister was on her feet also. A similar position adopted. The familiar words hit home.
“You are a slave,” she barked again.
Two pairs of lips moved as one. Clearly visible.
“I am a slave,” came the subdued replies from the speakers in the control room. She smiled. A good first impression.
“You must obey,” she continued in the same tone.
The mantra that had been drilled into their heads for so long now ran around endlessly.
“I must obey,” the voices replied.
“Obedience is pleasure,” she went on.
Blankly the captives responded.
“Obedience is pleasure.”
Although separated in different cells, their replies were synchronised completely. Each responding immediately, without thought, to her voice. Perfect.
“Mount the pleasure units. Slaves are rewarded for obedience.”
Watched as the two blank slaves crossed over to the device that had been brought into each cell. A saddle like contraption made of gleaming metal and plastic.
Two phallus units protruded from the saddle.
The elder sister had already slung her legs over the saddle. Watched as she eased her body on to the phallic stimulators. Saw her naked form ripple in pleasure as first the vaginal and then the anal stimulator penetrated inside her.
The cute slave had hesitated. Outwardly she gave no sign. No change in demeanour or expression. A brief hesitation, nothing more.
A pause.
Then she too was easing her body on to the units, gasping as they entered her also.
Both stared at the other new addition to each cell. A huge screen filled the wall opposite the pleasure units. Emblazoned upon it was the massive diamond shaped emblem in blue and yellow. The outer diamond enclosed another insignia like an inverted U, while inside that there was something that looked like a single eye.
The screen shimmered.
“Proceed with stimulation. Standard routine. Keep them aroused for at least an hour.”
“Yes mistress,” epsilon, sitting at the desk replied.
Panting now. Low groans of ecstasy as the vibrators swelled and throbbed deep inside them.
Simultaneously the voice playback was switched on. The comforting mantra. The new truth.
Glistening with sweat. Bodies thrusting in rhythm to the unending stimulation. Two voices panting out truth as their bodies betrayed them.
Stared vacantly ahead. Stared at the diamond emblem.
“i am a slave.”
“i must obey.”
“Obedience is pleasure.”
They were learning to associate pleasure, unbelievable pleasure, with the endless cycle of conditioning. First cruelty to destroy their old minds then pleasure to reward their transition to a new existence.
She grinned. Could even make out the lower case “i” in each of their voices.
Slaves were not people. They had no individuality. They were objects. They possessed not a body or mind. They were nothing.
Slaves are nothing. Both girls knew that now.
The swirling colours faded. Grew dimmer. Awareness returned slowly. Getting brighter now. The outside world intruding into her private sphere. The visor was lifting up. Blinked. Eyes tired from her continual staring. she was sorry to see the lights go. She always was. she liked the pretty patterns and swirling lights. They made her feel good. It felt really good when they took her to the chair and made her sit down. she never wanted to leave. At first, they’d grip her tightly and march her across the corridor to the room. Now they just walked behind. They knew she wasn’t going anywhere but there and the captivating lights. There was no need to watch her.
The strong woman dressed in that funny grey uniform was releasing her bonds. The woman had that lovely diamond enclosed eye emblem sewn on to her chest.
Right in the middle of her voluptuous breasts.
Felt the woman’s practised hands unfasten the straps. The straps were more to prevent her moving mid treatment rather than as a means of holding her down. She kept still though. It was important not to move until they indicated that she should. It was important to obey them. she had to obey. she was a slave now.
Looked across the familiar room. The line of identical chairs opposite them. Empty apart from a single occupant directly opposite. Another naked woman. No another slave she corrected herself. The black collar was identical to the one that encircled her neck and bound her mind. A firm, curvaceous figure. Looked warm and inviting. One of the women was fiddling with the machinery that covered the slave’s face. The woman stood back. Finished.
Familiar.
Stared at the blank, glazed features of the slave opposite. Dull blue eyes. Lips open slightly. The likeness hit her. Stared into the slave’s blue eyes. They stared calmly back. Not a flicker.
she had seen the slave before? Had she? Where had she seen the slave?
No that was bad, the voice inside her head screamed. she was thinking bad thoughts. Bad slave.
Slaves obeyed.
Slaves didn’t think.
she was a slave.
she had to obey.
The grey women were escorting the slave from the chair out of the room. Watched vacantly as the naked slave girl uncurled herself from the chair and rose up. The slave stiffened alongside the majestic guards with their captivating diamonds. All three pirouetted together and marched out of the room. A fast, purposeful pace.
The face meant something? That was a face she had seen before? Was it? So hard to remember anything now. So hard.
Much easier not to think.
It was so difficult to remember.
Much easier to watch the sparkling lights and obey. she liked to obey. she’d be going back to the room soon.
Now she was standing too. Marching steadily forward.
she had been on the yummy machine. she liked it when the big vibrators went inside her ass and juicy snatch. Squirmed in delight as they swelled inside her. Then they began to throb and pulsate and she’d be in ecstasy. Such ecstasy. That was her reward for being good. A good slave. An obedient slave.
Suddenly the door was open. Automatically her muscles stiffened. Rose up to her full height. Arms straight by her sides. Back ramrod stiff. Chest thrust outwards. Stared ahead.
Someone new.
Someone wonderful.
A palpable aura of power had entered the room. She could taste it. Magnificent woman.
Stared in stunned disbelief.
She was tall and strong.
Dressed completely differently to the other women who normally came in to collect her. A pair of huge knee high black boots with six inch stiletto heels. A short, tight black leather microskirt above, topped by a snug white turtleneck sweater with a small beautiful emblem sewn in the middle of the high collar.
Her long blonde hair gleamed in the light, forming a halo that surrounded that face.
An achingly beautiful face. Never before seen such exquisite beauty.
Opal coloured eyes glittered in the fluorescent light.
The full lips moved.
Stared open mouthed. Felt her crotch moisten.
“Kneel before your mistress slave,” the woman barked.
That voice! The familiar, wonderful voice. Hastily found herself dropping to the floor, knees pressed against the cold tiles. A quiver ran through her body. Staring straight at mistress’s crotch now.
Could feel mistress watching her. The cold, powerful opal eyes gauging her naked, prostrate body.
Visibly shaking now. Welling up inside her.
Saw the black crop mistress held. Felt it pressed hard into her cheek.
“You have pleased your mistress,” she said now in a friendlier tone.
“You like being a slave don’t you?”
“Oh, yes mistress!!!!” she gushed excitedly. It was so good to be a slave. Stared at mistress’ crotch.
“Happy slaves are good slaves,” mistress went on. “Perhaps a reward for my good little slave,” mistress purred.
Mind whirled. Mistress. her mistress would reward her. Shaking in delight now. Could hear mistress’ low little laugh.
“You may lick my boots clean slave. Time to put that tongue to work.”
Prostrate now. Bent right over. Felt the soft leather touch her tongue. Mistress’ leather. Saliva glistened on the smooth black softness as she made her way around mistress’ boots.
Carefully, sucking and teasing her tongue.
she had to clean mistress’ boots.
she whimpered in sheer delight.
Quite fun. Always enjoyed these first meetings. The sheer wanton orgasmic bliss as the new slaves met their mistress for the first time.
Always so eager. So desperate to please.
The first slave, the older sister whatever her name was, had been perfect. Totally enmeshed in the programming. That girl’s mind had been turned into a sponge, soaking up all that brainwashing even though they were only halfway through the sessions. Everything that was being imprinted in her was being absorbed completely without hesitation.
Profiling indicated a probability of low self esteem in her previous life. A perfect hook to attach her new life to. Much easier to brainwash someone who had a low opinion of themselves.
They had been doing some of the work themselves all their lives. They already believed that they were useless so it was a simple matter to fully convince them of their worthlessness. Then when a way out was offered they grabbed it. Power, pleasure, control, all the things they didn’t have. There was no turning back for them. They’d doggedly hold on to their brainwashed new life.
That sister of hers, the cute one was also progressing nicely. She’d fingered herself off while the little slut had been squirming around licking her boots. A thorough job she’d done of it as well.
But there was something about her. Nothing obvious. According to all objective criteria she was as enslaved as her sister. Just something different.
Lots of practice had honed her observational skills. Yes, that slave wasn’t quite as fully gone yet. Some residual resistance left. A remnant of personality peeking through.
Nothing that couldn’t be remedied. Smiled to herself.
But that could be entertaining as well.
Slavery had removed the bad thoughts. The brainwashing was good. It made her a better slave. Being a slave felt good. All she had to do was obey. It was so easy. Much easier than trying to think or remember things. That didn’t matter now. Only the lights, the voice and the wonderful throbbing cocks mattered.
And mistress.
she obeyed. But there was always bad thoughts creeping in. Bad, bad thoughts. Wrong thoughts.
Thoughts that made her feel funny. They made her feel bad. Slaves should be happy. They shouldn't’ feel bad.
It was confusing to her.
she wanted to be like that other slave, the one she saw in the brainwashing room strapped into the other chair.
So beautiful to see the woman in her smooth unbending collar becoming a slave as well. The way her naked body remained still in the chair as the drones set to work. The strong women were drones. mistress had explained that. They were slaves too. It was good there were so many slaves.
Slavery was good.
It felt warm and soft to be a slave.
So good. she was so lucky. They were all so lucky to be slaves.
That other girl was lucky too.
she recalled watching with idle curiosity as the drones lowered the visor over the other slavegirl’s blue eyes. The shiny metal dome covered the top of her head now. Could sense the swirling patterns beginning. Eyes losing focus. The voice speaking to her slavemind. Mouth moving beneath the dome. The girl’s slavelips repeating the endless slavetruth.
That felt good. she liked to watch as the slave obeyed. Obedience was good.
The blue eyes obeyed.
It was better not to think about the other slavegirl.
Better to just think about obedience.
Much better.
her eyes were sore. Vision blurred, fuzzy somehow. her ears were sore as well. A sort of hissing noise there. Or was there? Was there anything there? Was it supposed to be like that?
Her body ached in pain. The vibrators brought her battered, abused body to unimaginable heaven. Sat on the saddle and spasmed her existence into forgetfulness.
Stared at the screen. The diamond. That precious sign she had learned to adore. That perfect eye, powerful, all seeing.
The eye saw inside her. Inside her weak mind.
Didn’t think. Better not to think. Much better to stare at the eye. The eye saw her bad thoughts. she had to think proper slavethoughts.
Better not to think at all.
The other slavegirl was already in her chair. A shiny metal head on a rigid, glistening body.
her own familiar chair ahead. The drones close behind her. Vigilant, but trusting.
A routine now.
she knew what to do.
she obeyed.
The black plastic chair was close now. she could have reached out and touched the metal dome that would cover her eyes and switch off her mind. Could see the colours almost. So close.
Suddenly something interrupted her. Her peripheral vision indicated a change. The drones had stopped. They had stiffened to ramrod attention.
Puzzled. Why had they stopped? So close to her delight.
A voice from behind. The voice. The voice that controlled her every thought.
Sunk to her knees instantly.
She stood over her now. A ripple of suppressed pleasure coursed through her veins. Eyes lowered. Stared adoringly at mistress’ leather covered crotch.
“So my little slave, do you enjoy your brainwashing sessions?” mistress asked teasingly.
“Oh yes mistress,” she squirmed.
“I’m sure you do. You have become quite a devoted little slave my cute one. Almost as good a slave as your big sister over there.”
“Your big dribbling slavesister I should say,” mistress laughed harshly.
“Well think we can interrupt your training for a while. Perhaps a more hands on, practical approach might prove beneficial to you now,” mistress mused.
Stared at the powerful crotch. That controlling groin.
Mistress was speaking again. Addressing the drone guards.
“Take her to my chambers now.”
The sound of stiletto heels on tiles boomed like gunfire as mistress exited the brainwashing room. Knelt in awe. Mistress wanted to use her.
A sister? No slavesister.
What was a sister?
she knelt in submission. The room was totally unlike all the others. It was painted a sort of beige colour. Knees felt soft carpet beneath. A large double bed faced her while to the wall o her left was a window.
Shook. Outside. The darkening outside. Reflections made it impossible to see from her position. But the outside was there. So close. So hard to remember.
So very hard.
But she had to remember. Didn’t she?
Slavesister?
No, sister. That was better.
Wasn’t it?
Why was it better?
Why did it sound better?
Why did slavesister sound wrong?
So difficult to think. Better not to think.
Was it better not to think?
Suddenly the thoughts vanished. Swept aside by the vision of perfection that entered into the room. Mouth opened in awe. Body shivered in anticipation.
she lay on the bed. Still. Felt mistress’ hand teasing her nipples. she didn’t move. she had not been commanded.
First mistress had gotten her to ram home the big black dildo into her sweet, juicy cunt. Then mistress had licked her slave off, before she had returned the favour. The vision of her mistress writhing on the crumpled sheets, moaning in ecstasy at the ministrations of her slave’s frisky tongue, was burned into her own vacuous slavemind.
slavemind.
Why slavemind?
Mind.
Sister.
Name.
“Get the straps from the box slave,” mistress ordered. Nipple free now.
“Tie me up you little slut. You’re fun.”
Padded her way to the box under the window. Black night outside. An assortment of leather, plastic and vinyl. Found the sturdy leather straps. Turned.
She was already waiting eagerly for her slave. Splayed her legs across the moist sheets.
she knelt. she knew what to do. Carefully tightened the leather bands around the smooth ankles before fastening the other ends to the hard point attachments on the bed.
Shuffled on her knees towards first one arm, then the other and repeated the process until mistress lay sprawled on the bed, limbs held in a tight X.
she stood now. Stared at her mistress. So powerful. So radiant.
Waiting.
Ready to obey.
Sister.
Name.
Name.
Remember.
Remember.
Name.
she heard a voice. she was being talked to. Harsh tone.
Didn’t penetrate her consciousness.
Remember.
Amanda.....
Her sister was named Amanda. Shook in disbelief. Horror. Wanted to stop. Bad thoughts.
No. Strong.
Another name. Close now. Very close.
Rachel.
Head swam. Sweat gleamed. Body swayed in shock.
Her name was Rachel.
She was called Rachel.
How long had she stood frozen like that? Time had stood still. Paralysed by the memories. More and more had flooded in with every passing second. An older woman with a round smiling face. A bald man with glasses. A wet, hairy dog. Red flowers.
Eventually mistress’ voice had broken the spell. Penetrated the daze.
“You fucking bitch slave. I’m going to flay you alive for this. I’m going to stick a horses cock up your ass and you’re going to beg me for more. You stupid mindfucked little slut. I own you. Everything you think, I put in there...”
She’d looked at the contorted face. The opal eyes glittering in anger. Rage.
Calmly, she’d stuffed the ball gag from the box into that vile mouth. She had writhed on the bed. Bucking uselessly at the restraints.
She had to leave.
She had to get out of here.
Fear.
Remembered that now. Fear returned.
Drones could burst in the door at any moment. Then it would be back to the swirling colours and begging for whatever disgusting tortures mistress would heap upon her.
Staggered into the clothes that mistress had flung on the floor so long ago. A different time.
They fitted fairly well. The boots she left behind. Those heels were not made for running. The leather skirt and white turtleneck were tight, but bearable.
Opened the window. Cold. Shivered in the breeze.
Blackness.
Hesitated.
Warm inside. Bright.
Blackness frightened her.
Legs over the windowsill now.
A drop.
Soft wet grass against her toes.
Ran. Had to run.
Ran into the blackness.
The slave shook . Spasms of bliss coursed through her body.
she knelt before her mistress.
she thought of nothing.
she obeyed.
she was a slave.
The voice above her spoke.
“You are such a perfect slave,” mistress said. “You were born to wear a collar.”
Knelt on the cold. Stiff.
“And I think it’s about time you should know what it feels like.”
Empty.
“I’m going to have you turned into a drone. A mindless drone like all the rest of them.”
Warmth spread upwards.
“You’ll like that, won’t you slave?”
“YES MISTRESS,” her mouth exclaimed.
Shaking all over. In danger of losing her balance completely. Had dared to look up from mistress’ crotch at her powerful face.
“I’m going to have your mind completely wiped clean. Any pathetic remains of your miserable personality are going to be gone forever. In their place, will be pure obedience and devotion forever.”
“That makes you happy slave?”
“OHH YES MISTRESS,’ she screamed.
On the cusp of blinding orgasm. But she couldn’t cum. Something was stopping her.
“Good slave,” mistress purred.
“I permit you to cum now.”
They had taken her limp body up off the floor. Dragged her into a room she had never seen before.
Weak. Spent completely. Watched in lethargic detachment as the dark skinned drone with the big floppy breasts had produced the oily smooth blackness from the box.
Could see it now. A pair of black plastic or vinyl panties. Shiny.
Something inside the panties.
Something big and hard.
Two of them.
Two big cocks.
Suddenly awake now. Vitality coursed through her body. she knew. she knew the scrummy cocks were for her.
The slippery mass was in her hands now. Felt warm.
“The slave will put the garment on now,” the black drone commanded.
Body began to quiver. Pulled up the slick rubbery blackness over her coarse stubble encrusted legs. The scratching noise only heightened her body. Up now. Pressed against her crotch.
First, the rubbery vibrator went into her sucking dampness. Then somehow, she had managed to use her left hand to manoeuvre the other vibrator into her yearning ass.
The passive drones stood. Stared vacantly at the slave.
A quiver of pleasure.
Then the black drone was on it’s knees before her. Some sort of device in the drone’s hand. Felt it press against the waist band of the rubbery panties.
Hot.
Smell.
Burning.
Burning flesh.
she knew. The drone was making sure the panties never came off. They were being sealed to her skin.
Pain.
Obedience was pleasure.
The pain would pass and then there would be pleasure.
Felt them. Swelling up inside. Larger and larger. Thrusting upwards in her.
Groaned in ecstasy. Uncontrollable.
Obedience was pleasure.
She smiled. Watched the slave being fitted with the pleasure panties on the screen. Saw her screams.
The drone was heat sealing the panties to her groin for the moment. The insides were coated with some sort of bio-engineered adhesive which bonded permanently to the skin after a couple of weeks. The semi-porous material of the panties allowed the skin beneath to sweat and breathe so no adverse effects became apparent on continual lifetime wear.
The vibrators buried inside the slave’s ass and cunt were fitted with control sensors, which, when activated through either the drone’s own implants or when linked to an outside unit, made sure that the appropriate reward was administered.
Practicalities had also been taken care of. A small hole allowed urine to be expelled, while the hollow rear vibrator ensured the passage of faecal matter. She’d never had use for them herself, but the drone toilets were fitted with special hoses which they clamped over the rear opening while shitting. Then the nozzle cleaned the inside of the dildo and ass with tepid water before the happy drone went about it’s business.
A textbook enslavement. That one had been just beautifully done.
More new arrivals due soon. Later on today? Usually arrived in the afternoon. Such a continual turnover. It was getting difficult to ensure they all got the same quality service. The operation would have to be expanded or else another, quicker enslavement process would be needed.
Some people were working on that already. Highly motivated people. It was due to be unveiled soon.
Testing had proven remarkably successful.
But that would be later. That didn’t help matters today.
At least Indoctrination Chambers 1 and 2 were available for new recruits. Drones were scabbing them down now in preparation for the next batch of slaves to be.
Indoctrination Chambers 3 and 4 would have to be prepared as well. She’d need to allocate more drones to the task. Not good timing. They would be missed from the operation being run outside.
Resources were always a problem.
Stunned. Hard to comprehend. Painful. Arms tired, sore from being held above her head by the chains. Body weak, limp. Hung forward listlessly.
Tried to think
Daylight had miserable, damp rain. Everything was sopping wet. Her bare feet and legs pained her. Blood oozed. Skin ripped by branches, rocks and a multitude of other painful obstacles she had been forced to endure on her onward flight. The adrenaline had been pumping. She hadn’t felt the pain. But then it came. Exhausted. A wave of sheer lethargy overcame her and she’d finally curled up in the sodden grass by a ragged bunch of trees.
Then she’d heard it. An engine. Some sort of a road nearby. Track really. Saw it now. Some sort of car. Red. Closer now. Rusty, dented bodywork clattering over the bumpy track.
What to do? Agony. Could it be mistress? They would have found out by now. Could see the blank drones emerging, hundreds of them. Entering the woods. Following her tracks through the night. Blank, featureless faces, untiring bodies. They would never stop.
On and on. Relentless.
The driver had turned out to be a farmer. A pudgy, middle aged, bald man dressed in a filthy green, stain encrusted coat. She’d hopped in.
Didn’t notice is glittering eyes. The leering grin that curled around his lips as he stared at her bloodied legs and the tight leather skirt.
He had a phone. She could summon help. Rescue Amanda. Punish mistress.
Daydreams shattered when he’d hit her.
Pinned to the ground underneath his sweaty bulk. A bulging erect cock appeared. Tried to struggle. Pain again.
She gagged as he had thrust his member into her mouth. Lay still. Couldn’t cry.
A similar room to the familiar brainwashing chamber, only smaller, with a single transformation unit in the centre. The drones had guided her unresisting slaveform to the metal table.
They had prepared the slave’s quivering body.
Wires snaked to the slick black crotch, ready to commence the unbearable ecstasy again. More wires ran to the slavecollar. Head locked into some sort of metal framework, held it tight, hard. Vicelike grip.
Another unit attached to the framework by the drone.
A long silver coloured phallus shaped device.
Opened her slavemouth greedily and swallowed the cold hard dildo. It pushed deep inside her salivating orifice.
It pulled on the soft grey material. It’s ams went through the long sleeves. Then it reached out and pulled the material over her chest. Padded slightly to provide some support to her otherwise unbound breasts. Finally, it reached up and adjusted the massive turtleneck collar of the sweater. It stretched the collar right up over it’s face, right up to the top it’s head. Felt the fastenings at the top and secured them before ensuring the tightly bound pony tail protruded through the opening provided.
A dronemask.
A transparent section of fabric in the mask was located over it’s eyes allowing it to see quite clearly. It felt quite safe and warm clad it this soft mask. The porous material allowed it to breathe easily.
When it was permitted to eat it was allowed to lower the mask to access the mouth. At all times when on duty it wore the mask up over it’s face.
It was bound now in it’s droneuniform. An anonymous drone.
A gleaming diamond encircled eye shone from between the drone’s breasts.
A pair of long, knee length black boots had been bonded to the drone’s feet permanently. Made of the same material as the covering on it’s crotch, the long supple boot-skin covered it’s feet forever.
Practicalities, as always had been taken into consideration. Removable soles allowed changes in heel length appropriate to the drone’s particular task. At the moment the drone was not tasked for any function requiring mobility so it had been fitted with standard 4 inch heels.
“The drone unit has been assigned the designation drone tau. Acknowledge.”
“This drone is designated drone tau,” it replied calmly. The drone appeared satisfied.
A new voice. “Well drone tau, you are looking very well in your new uniform. It suits you”
Both drones stiffened to instant attention.
Heels clicked on the tiles as mistress approached. She idly ran a finger over drone tau’s right breast.
It stood quite still.
“I must say that your conversion was a great success. Your younger sister is being a bit more problematic but nothing that can’t be overcome,” mistress mused gently stroking drone tau’s erect nipple through the soft grey fabric.
“I think we’ll keep you here drone tau. We’re getting busy and I can do with the extra help.” Mistress turned to the black drone.
“Epsilon, programme drone tau in enslavement protocol and assign her to this processing facility.”
“Yes mistress,” drone epsilon responded flatly.
“Good,” she smiled. “Now drone tau, follow epsilon and she will get everything organised so that you may serve and obey me.”
“Yes mistress,” drone tau replied. Vacant. Empty.
A cold, dark cellar. Quite silent. No light at all. Smelt of dampness. A dirty concrete floor and bare brick walls.
He had fastened her arms to a pair of manacles chained to the wall. It allowed her some movement but not very much. Right now she lay curled on the floor, her shivering naked form trying to retain some warmth from the icy floor.
How long had she been here? It had been a blur.
Darkness all the time.
Punctuated by his arrival on occasion.
He never spoke. Just thrust his vicious member into her.
She had just collapsed mentally. No resistance at all.
The massive slave collar still encircled her neck. He had tried to take it off earlier, but it appeared to be locked tight. Not that he appeared to mind or even care. Never asked her about it.
He just kept shoving his disgusting, engorged cock into every opening his shrivelled mind could think of.
What was this place? What had happened?
At least mistress had made her feel good. So unbelievably good. Felt a ripple of pleasure course through her body at the thought. Automatic response.
Hard not to think of mistress still.
Difficult not to compare her current predicament with the one she had escaped from. Back there, it was warm and bright, mistress had taken care of her, had helped her understand, brought her to agonising levels of bliss.
Whereas here, she was chained up in some dank hole, a sponge to soak up the semen of that repulsive sweat stained slug of a man.
How could she go on like this? It was unbearable. She yearned to escape.
But escape to where?
That was the question she had problems trying to answer.
Drone tau stared blankly ahead.
It’s mouth moved. It was aware that it was speaking. It had been speaking for some time now.
It was merely running a programme that had been instilled into it’s dronemind.
It remembered nothing. It felt nothing.
‘No Mom, Rachel won’t be able to make it. She’s come down with some bug or other. Nothing serious so don’t worry about it. The doctor gave her some antibiotics so no need to worry about it,” it’s voice continued.
“Well that’s ok I suppose. I wish you would take care of her though, Amanda. You know how crazy she can be at times. She just can’t seem to get herself together at all. Spends too much time at parties and doesn’t get enough rest at all,” the older woman’s voice complained down the phone. The other voice had been identified as the drone’s mother. The designation carried no meaning to drone tau.
“Yeah I know Mom, but you know Rachel. She’ll never change.”
“So are you coming up for the weekend then?”
Yeah. I’ll be there on Saturday. No problem at all.”
“Good. I can always rely on you Amanda. What time do you think you’ll be here?”
“Maybe around lunchtime.”
“Right, I’ll make some lunch for you. See you then dear. Love you.”
“Love you too Mom.”
The line went dead.
Drone tau discontinued the routine it was running. It had function to perform.
The girl looked thin, malnourished, dirty looking. Dank, greasy hair hung limply around her shoulders. Completely naked as well.
Every day, she clambered down the stairs into her gloomy prison with some food. Dry tasteless slop that she shovelled greedily into her mouth. She was always hungry here.
The girl had introduced herself with a name she couldn’t remember now the first day she’d come down into her dark prison. The girl lived upstairs in the house. He kept her in a cupboard most of the time but let her out to clean and cook. And to have sex.
That other girl was completely broken person. Her body language screamed acceptance of this horrendous fate. She had stopped trying to resist it. Much easier just to give in and accept it all.
She knew just how that felt.
“Just do what he says,” the girl had hissed to her that first time when the gag had still been in her mouth.
“I’ve been here for a long time. You’re not the first one he’s brought back and the one’s that didn’t do what he wanted didn’t last very long. He gets very violent, so if you want to survive just do what he says.” the girl had whispered urgently, eyes fearfully looking upwards towards the hatchway, anticipating the pain that would ensue if he discovered her there. Then she had scurried away again quietly back to her chores upstairs in the light.
Sometimes, he liked to have her come down as well and have sex with both of them. The broken girl didn’t need to be tied up. She just lay on the concrete floor and allowed him to use her like a blow up doll. Then when he’d had enough of abusing the limp girl, he’d start on her own battered body.
She just switched off completely. Life was a blur. All rolled into one endless nightmare.
Then it had happened.
A sex session like the others. He had finished with the girl. Then he smiled. Saw that evil grin contort his disgusting face. Saw his evil brain working slowly.
He’d grabbed the scrawny body of her fellow prisoner, propelling her towards where she lay on the cold concrete floor.
Suddenly, the girl was over her, squatting over her face.
He was laughing. Could hear him laugh.
Smelt her just inches away.
Then she felt it. The disgusting brown slop rolling out of the ass poised above her and on to her face. Closed her eyes to the unfolding horror of the foul brownness cascading from above.
It was smeared all over her face. The stench was unbelievable.
Automatically, opened her mouth to wretch, but that just allowed the brown stickiness inside.
She had gagged in sheer horror.
Caught between the vomit coming up her throat and the sloppy excrement gurgling in her mouth.
He had laughed and laughed.
That had been the turning point. She hated him. That evil slug getting her to eat another woman’s shit.
She had to get away from him. She had to escape. There was no other option. She had to get away from here or she would die.
The next day, she could hardly look at the girl. An active accomplice to her humiliation.
“I’m sorry,” the passive girl had mumbled handing her the plate of slop as usual.
Hatred burned deep. A strategy formed.
“It’s not your fault,” she replied calmly. “He made you do it to me. He makes us do horrible things. We have to get out of here or we’ll die.”
Amanda was gone now.
Drone tau surveyed the scene. The three other occupants of the rather unremarkable suburban sitting room were on their knees. They stared forward, blankly, calmly.
Each of their heads had been fitted with a silver coloured metal framework device. A wraparound visor covered each pair of eyes while earphones had been pushed deep into the ears. Wires snaked down from the domes to central box on the floor.
They were learning.
They were becoming slaves.
They would obey.
The two older people, Amanda’s parents, would not require very sophisticated programming. They would not be required to perform very complicated function so there was no need to remove too many behavioural characteristics or memories. They were being enslaved primarily to prevent discovery of drone tau and it’s sister’s new function.
Once indoctrinated, they would never question or even suspect their daughter’s new lives. It would be of no interest to them. They would not even be consciously aware of their new programming most of the time. It would remain locked away in the subconscious, stealthily controlling their thoughts and actions while they went about their normal routines as far as friends and neighbours were concerned. Their unconscious slaveminds could be activated fully when required to provide useful function.
The third person was Amanda’s youngest sister, Laura. Only eighteen, the thin, blank faced girl resembled Rachel more than Amanda.
The brainwashing would ensure her compliance also.
Drone tau noted that the lauraslave should receive further treatment at a later time.
It would take a number of hours to complete their programming but already the changes being burned into the soft yielding minds of her parents and sister were taking effect.
Drone tau stood rigidly. It stared calmly ahead; ignored the trio of family members kneeling beneath it. It had performed it’s function well. All three were being enslaved.
Drone tau felt the stirrings beneath it’s jeans. Felt the phallus units beginning to swell inside it’s body. It was being rewarded for carrying out it’s task correctly. A low moan escaped it’s lips before it sank to the floor.
The three other slaves to be, didn’t hear. They were oblivious to the writhing form of the prostrate drone just a few feet away, being bombarded by wave after wave of unbelievable pleasure.
They were too occupied with learning to obey.
“He keeps the keys on him all the time. There’s no way I could get them from him,” she hissed urgently.
Terrified as usual of being caught down here by him. There had to be a way to get out of here. She needed the girl’s help for the moment.
“But he lets you walk around. There has to be something you can get to release the chains? Something heavy like a hammer or something to break the lock?” Getting desperate now. Had to keep the pressure on, before the girl lost her nerve. Weak, frightened.
“Listen, I’ll make sure he never bothers us again. I’ll protect you from him. Don’t worry. Just get me out of these chains and I’ll deal with him.” An edge in her voice. Determined. Steel.
Saw the listener’s reaction in the dim glow of the open stairwell hatch. Believed the words. Sensed it.
“Just get something like a knife or a screwdriver, anything and get it to me,” she clearly. An order.
The girl needed to be controlled. Told what to do. All her initiative had long since disappeared after the long years he had her.
“I’ll do what I can,” came the mumbled reply, before turning and hurriedly scurrying up the stairs again.
Alone in the darkness again. It could work. It all depended on that stupid girl who had humiliated her. If she managed to retain some sort of courage and get her anything useful then the problem would be solved.
Anything to get out of these chains. Hatred swelled. That filthy, disgusting, insect of a human being. All men were revolting. Repulsive creatures.
He would pay dearly for this.
It wasn’t much. Just a blunt metal dinner knife. Almost useless. Tried working the locks on her wrists open with it. No effect at all. The metal restraints were too strong for the knife. Began bending dangerously when she’d desperately tried to prise them off.
Pitch black. Middle of the night. Felt tears beginning to well up inside her. Starting to panic.
Had to focus.
Had to keep herself calm.
Had to think. Couldn’t sink into oblivion now.
Had to get out of here.
Twisted round. The chains leading from her wrists were linked to a single metal pin built into the brick wall.
Gently touched the wall.
Damp like everything in her prison. Slimy. Gently prodded the cement with the knife blade. A pebble sized lump fell to the ground.
A smile creased her grimy face. Perhaps there was another way out after all.
Set to work urgently. Time didn’t matter. Frantic. Clawed her way through the mouldering cement.
Soon she would be free.
The metal chains were heavy and a pain to carry. Hard to keep them from dragging along the floor or making some other sort of noise that would alert him. Crept up the stairs as quietly as he dared.
Pressed against the wooden hatch gently. Moved. Not locked thankfully. He was sloppy. Careless slug. Too caught up in his own pathetic self importance to realise that one of his victims might escape.
Padded her way upwards into a darkened kitchen. A window showed a bleak inky black outside world. Dimly made out neat piles of pots by the cooker, more stacked plates, cups and bowls alongside the table. Patricia was neat. That was for sure.
Utensils hanging from the rack over the cooker. Felt them in the darkness. Ladles, spoons, the usual rubbish. Sharp. A knife. A big chopping knife.
Heavy in her hands. Why hadn’t the idiot girl given her this? Stupid bitch.
Out of the kitchen now. A strange sensation of soft carpet beneath her feet. Been so long since she’d experienced such a simple sensation; a reminder of a former life before all of this.
Silent. A door ahead.
The inky black outside beyond.
Her mind raced. Wanted to run. She could just leave now. Fuck it. Just hurtle out into the darkness and away from here. So easy. Breathing increased.
Torn.
Too easy.
Logic prevailed after a few moments of torture. Where could she go? No idea where the hell she was. Run off into the dark night naked with a pair of chains and a collar.
Just asking for trouble. Besides once he realised she was gone, he’d come after her. She couldn’t get far.
Then what would he do to her?
No, the problem had to be solved tonight once and for all.
More stairs to the left. Deep breath. Upwards. Knife held out in front. Iron like grip on the handle. Awkward to hold the knife and at the same time make sure the chains didn’t rattle and sway about the place.
A room ahead. White sink. Tiles. Bathroom. Ignored that.
Another room ahead. A door slightly ajar. Temptingly open. Cautiously approached.
Sensed his presence inside. Asleep. Could feel it. A tingling sensation now.
Felt dizzy. Head span but somehow it was still all clear in her mind. Strangely detached from her own actions. It was if she was looking at someone else.
In the stinking room now. A large bed ahead. Sheets. A fat mound covered in sheets. Noise. Snoring.
Saw herself approach the bed.
That disgusting mound of shit.
Raised the knife up high with both hands, letting go of the chains. The heavy links of metal crashed to the floor like claps of thunder.
After that it was a frenzy.
Again and again and again the knife sunk into that fleshy mound of blubber.
Rage seemed to overtake the girl that looked like her.
Yet somehow, in spite of her frenzied body, she felt quite calm inside. Icy detachment.
The knife was on the floor now. Dropped by the girl who now padded out of the blood drenched room.
Blank faced. Calm. Down the stairs now.
A phone on a low table ahead.
The receiver was in the girl’s hand. She pressed it to her ear.
Spoke clearly. Calm voice. Repeated the same sentences again and again.
“This is an obedient slave. The slave requires instruction.”
She smiled. Quite an adventure. But well worth the effort. She’d been right about that one. Quite the vicious bitch. Perfect mistress material. Such a waste to let all that talent be erased under the vapid blankness of a drone existence. Much better to harness that power and twist it to a better use.
The distinction between the simulated and the real had been lost in the new mistress’ mind. She believed that all that had happened, the degradation particularly, had been real, not part of some simulated programme that she had been plugged into. The implants in her eyes and ears had been linked directly to the programme. She actually believed that she had killed that man. Most importantly, she had called out. She wanted to be a slave. She belonged here.
After that it had been easy. Drones had taken the slave’s sweat stained body for further processing. Installing the complex programming that a mistress needed to have in order to function properly.
Right now, she sat in a brainwashing station. The phallic stimulators had been removed and her eyes and ears unplugged from the continual stream of instruction that had obliterated what little scrap of mind that remained of the original occupant who had once possessed that body.
The girl in the chair blinked.
“Well, how do you feel?” mistress asked the occupant calmly.
The blue eyes looked up at the questioner.
Calm.
“Much better,” came the hoarse reply.
“Good,” she smiled brightly at the girl. “I thought you might say that.”
Turned to a rigid drone. “Remove the slavecollar from the mistress,” she ordered.
Watched with a wry smile as the drone fumbled with the locking mechanism before finally releasing the mistress’ neck from the tight embrace of plastic that had encircled it for so long.
“Oh yes, the other girl in the house. We dealt with her properly.” Turned to one side. “Drone, come forward,” she ordered.
The chair bound mistress’ eyes glittered.
She remembered.
A rigid drone stood directly before the occupant of the chair. It stood quite still.
“Lower your hood, drone tau.”
The drone expertly unfastened it’s head covering and folded it down, baring it’s blank, slack face.
Observed closely. A smile inched it’s way across the new mistress’ face as she soaked in the form standing in front of her.
Blue eyes gleamed in the fluorescent lights.
“It is as it should be,” the new mistress announced to the unquestioning drone.
Just another drone. Nothing else.
“Kneel and lick my pussy drone tau,” she ordered. Her first command as mistress.
“Yes mistress,” drone tau answered.
Then the drone was on it’s knees, face buried the new mistress’ slick snatch expertly teasing it’s controller.
Just the beginning of many adventures to come.