Going under cover

“Going under cover”.

Author’s note. This novel is just a product of my morbid imagination and it contains crude language and descriptions of sexual intercourses (if you are under the age of twenty-one years or you’re offended by such writings please don’t read further). FDI stands for Federal Defense Investigation, a paramilitary division of USE army, principally fighting terrorism and mafia. Events take place in the USE (United States of Europid) on a planet other than planet Earth. Probably, you’ll find a handful of language issues in this novel: I did my best, but English is not my mother tongue. Last of all, be aware that this is a mind control story focusing on dominance, humiliation and submission: you can expect very little romance, if any.

Copyright © 2011 Submeat! and malos mannaja.

I. On the leash

Driving north to Comptonville, FDI sergeant Sally Warrel scratched her nose and reassured her younger attendant.

– Don’t be stupid, David, everything will go as planned.

– I don’t know, sergeant… this undercover mission makes me nervous.

– I thought you were excited: when we were assigned to this operation, you said it was a dream come true…

– Perhaps I was joking... now I’m really scared.

Sally laughed a while, then took a big breath and tried to reassure him once more. 

– You’re saying nonsense: it’s not you, it’s me the bait in somewhat dangerous position. You just have to play along.

– I don’t know… I’m afraid I might not be able to…

– Stop it, David. Look at me: what would I have to say?!? You think I’m comfortable going out in public dressed like a whore, pretending to be your slave?

David had to admit that Sally was right. Her athletic body appeared to be outrageously curvaceous in the black mini-dress and the leather collar on her slender neck was quite gross: it was the first time in five years of squad work that he could admire the body of his direct superior on sexy display…

– What’s wrong about your outfit, sergeant? Ehm… it’s very sexy and consistent: let’s say you’re dressed to kill…

– Fuck off, David… and don’t slobber on the seat fabric like a Pavlov’s dog: needless to say, this meat it’s not for you.

– Sorry, I was trying to release the tension...  

– Well, don’t wet your underpants either. I’m happily married and twelve years older than you, baby.

Actually, sergeant Warrel was thirty-nine, but her juvenile and toned body, coupled with her present clothing, could easily make her pass for David’s mid-twenty’s girlfriend. The younger agent seized the opportunity to flatter his superior.

– If I was disrespectful, I apologize again, sergeant. Anyway, you know, everybody says you look ten years younger than your age.

– You’re trying to deceive me, David? I’m not one of your college girls. What’s up with you today, boy? I thought you were clever enough to discriminate between the cowl and the monk…

Silence. David decided it was better not to answer back and looked at the starry night outside the car window. Some minutes later, he rationalized his fears.

– Ok... Joking aside, sergeant, you know what’s my concern? What will I do, down there, if something goes wrong? It’s very likely that, in your “slave” position you will not be able to give me any good help or suggestion.

– Don’t worry: hold the leash, but follow my moves, David. Anyway, if it will be needed, I’m sure you could easily regain control of the situation. Use your instinct, I trust in you.

The Stoned Club was in the western outskirts of Comptonville. Sergeant Warrel parked the car and switch on the wireless microphone and the gps router.

– Ok. Twenty-two minutes past midnight, here we go.

– Roger, sergeant.

At the entrance of the building, two large bodyguards asked the couple for documents.

– Can I please see your pass, sir?

– Oh, of course. I’m David Frencher and this is my…

– Salve identity, if any, is irrelevant. Be patient only few seconds while my co-worker verifies your ID.

– Ok.

The colleague reappeared almost immediately.

– Fitting. You can be admitted to the Club, sir.

– Thanks.

– But I recommend you not to give public scandal: it’s better if you fasten the leash to the collar of your slave, before entering the hall.

– Oh, yes… sure.

The two agents went through some secondary rooms, reaching the main hall where a kilometric marble-topped table barred their way. The ambient was opulently decorated and softly lighted. Beside the table, an elegant and grizzled-haired concierge called for David.

– Sir David Frencher?

– Yes, it’s me.

– We were waiting for you, Sir Frencher. Which kind of treatment you like to purchase for your slave?

– Ehrr.. Which kind of treatment do you suggest?

The old man gave a quick examination to sergeant Warrel body and posture.

– Your slave doesn’t seem to be properly trained at all.

– That’s not true.

– I didn’t mean to offend you, Sir. Be aware that my wide experience can be of great help for you: my only duty here is to rightly match our training products with client needs.

The concierge smiled politely and waited for a sign from the client. David was sweating cold.

– Ok. I think I will rely on your experience.

– Very well done, sir. It will take six ore seven hours, but you will be throughout satisfied with the full basic treatment. As stated in our price-list, basic treatment charges twenty thousand euro.

– Wow. That’s a lot of money! Anything less expensive?

The concierge knitted his brow and displayed a dismal looking.

– This is a highly specialized resort, Sir. Your bank data seemed to fit with our standards, but if somehow there was a mistake, I must ask you to leave immediately.

– No, no… sorry. I was joking: I’ve surely not come as far as Comptonville to bide my time. How can I pay the… product?

– Payment via bank transfer is recommended, of course. This is the International Bank Account Number for the transaction: money will go directly to our private financial institution in the Cayman Islands. Do it within a week to avoid any… unpleasant consequences.

– This sounds like a menace.

– Not at all, sir: it’s my kind advice for your safety.

– Fantastic!

After billing and sign in formalities, the couple was dismissed toward the hart of the building. When the concierge was far enough to fail to perceive her murmuring, sergeant Warrel scolded her master.

– What came up to you?? Do you think we are dealing with a discount house or a fish market? Are you trying to burn our covers? You’re the first nephew of the Frenchers, the rich shipbuilder family of the east cost…

– Sorry Sergeant… but I’m very worried. It’s clear we’ve stumbled upon a big thing. I think it’s better we...

– Don’t be stupid, David. We’ve to collect significant evidence of the body racket: we’ve got absolutely nothing, up to now.

– The satellite device… it’s not working, and probably neither is the microphone.

– The building must be shielded.

– Be careful: camera on the left…

– …

At the end of the red carpet, a big metallic door opened and the music reached the agents. A middle aged man walked toward the clients.

– Pleased to meet you, Mister Frencher. I’m Serge, the head waiter.

– How do you do.

– Have a nice stay. The bar is on the house.

– Of course.

In the very large saloon, agent Warrel counted up to ten people: four women, four men and two waiters. The other waiter was at service behind the bar, where two of the men were drinking and chatting. Two women, presumably their own slaves, were standing at the end of the room, facing the wall, their leashes bounded to a bracket pole. Scattered in the saloon, seven round tables were shielded by semi-transparent dividing walls of artificial silk. Two tables were occupied by the remaining two men, with their slaves kneeling nearby. She had imagined a more crowded room, anyway, no armed guards around, it seems… mmm, very well, very well…

The head waiter spoke again.

– Probably, you will enjoy a drink, to recover from the voyage.

– Sure.

– If you kindly hand me the leash, I will park your slave to the bracket pole.

– Uh? Ok…

David approached the table of the bar.

– Hello. I’m new here. I’m David.

One of the men greeted friendly the new client.

– Hello David, I’m Tom. Where do you come from?

– I’m from Lonbon. Well, it’s more intimate than what I imagined, here. Nice place, anyway.

– Yes. Tonight it’s my sixth time in two months. I decided to upgrade the cooking routine of my slave.

– Cooking… routine?

– I love Italian cuisine. Who says that sex is the only pleasure a slave can offer?

– Eh… yeah, you’re right.

– What have you purchased for your slave?

– They suggested a full basic treatment.

– Excellent! That was also the first treatment of my slave. You will be very satisfied.

– I don’t know…

– Well, Karen was so self-centered, before. She often argued with me and pretended to have a very independent life, you know… going out at night with her friends, literary readings, and bird-watching.

– And… and now?

– Now she is the perfect slave.

– But… sorry if I ask you… probably it’s because I feel guilty about the whole thing of turning a woman in a slave… – David got closer to Tom’s ear and continued – ehm, my slave, Sally… is not completely agreeing to this, let’s say I tricked her. Was it the same for you and Karen?

Tom laughed boisterously.  

– Ah, ah… of course… ah…

– Of course what?

– Ah… of course Karen didn’t want to be my slave. But now she is the happiest woman in the world.

– I see… thank you. This cheered me up a lot.

Meanwhile, sergeant Warrel was interviewing the slave girl at her left.

– Hello. Can you speak with me? I’m Sally.

– Pleased to meet you, Sally. I’m Karen.

– Are we in trouble if they catch us talking?

– Probably not. My master didn’t give me any specific order about this.

– It’s your first time at the Club?

– No, I’ve been here other times. You’re new, don’t you?

– Yes… What is your occupation, Karen? Outside here, I mean… what’s your job in real life?

– Once upon a time I was a lawyer. But now I’m a slave.

The girl smiled, happily.

– Lawyer?? Well, in any case it seems you’re very happy at present… Did you fulfill your masochistic fantasies with this parade?

– I never had masochistic fantasies.

– So why do you play along with this? Why don’t you untie the leash and fuck off your demented boyfriend?

Karen roared.

– Don’t insult my master!

– Shhht! Sorry, I didn’t want to offend anyone, but the question remains. Are you kept here… against your will?

– My will is irrelevant. I obey my master.

– But you said you’re not a masochist… thus, if this doesn’t arouse you, why do you comply?

– Because I’m a slave.

Sergeant Warrel sighed: the conversation wasn’t disclosing any criminal element. She tried to turn around the wall, approaching the conversation from another point of view.

– Do you think it’s good for me to stay here?

– No.

– Why?

– They will turn you into a slave.

– Even if I don’t want to?

– Yes, of course.

Sally shivered. She had put the finger on it: obviously, the girl had been brainwashed and forced to think of herself as a slave. However, even if her self image had been completely broken down to the point that her slavery condition appeared to be unquestionable, her critical functions about everything else were amazingly intact. This should be the result of skilled professional work.

– Karen… do you remember what happened to you?

– When?

– When you came here the first time.

– Mmm… no I don’t.

– I think you were brainwashed.

Karen displayed a brief suffering look, followed by a vacant relaxation stare.

– Sometimes I have the same feeling, but I asked my master if something happened to my brain and he reassured me that I wasn’t brainwashed at all.

– I see…

– Probably, being a slave is the most natural thing in the world to me.

– Listen Karen: you said I’m in danger. Care to help me?

– Of course… what I have to do?

– Within some minutes situation will get rough and I’m worried that you girls could be harmed or used against us.

– Us?

– I’m Sally Warrel, FDI sergeant, and my friend near the bar is an agent too. Do you know the girl at your left?

– Her name is Christine.

– Tell her that I’m a cop and that when I will scream *run* it’s very important for you both to run to the door without turning back.

– Ok…

Tom led David arm in arm and, guiding him towards the slaves at the bracket pole.

– David, this is Karen, my slave.

– You have a gorgeous slave, Tom. My compliments…

– And she’s perfectly trained. Have a look…

Tom untied the leash of his slave and fondled her breasts with patronizing manners. Then cleared his throat and spitted a large clot of saliva on the floor.

– Slave, lick it clean.

Karen fell to her knees and eagerly lapped the spit. David watched the scene open-mouthed while Sally shivered horrified. Tom remarked triumphantly.

– Amazing, isn’t it?

Sergeant Warrel was fuming, but controlled herself. She gestured to David to untie her leash and winked him to stay tuned for a surprise attack. Three. Two. One. Action!

With perfect timing, both agents sprang up to take control of the situation. Sally screamed.

– Run! Christine, Karen, run like hell!! And don’t turn back!

Meanwhile, before Tom could say anything or understand what was going on, sergeant Warrel kicked him hard in his testicles and subsequently punched him limp to the ground. Then, she pulled out the gun buried in her panties.

– Everybody freeze! FDI! Be quite and nobody will be injured.

David, holding his gun too, showed his badge and ordered the people in the hall to group together in the centre of the room. The head-waiter smiled politely.

– It seems you’re upsetting our clients, agent.

– The first one who makes a wrong move is dead. Is it clear? David, tie up this bunch of motherfuckers.

– With pleasure, sergeant.

The head-waiter didn’t show any nervousness.

– I don’t think you have exactly valued your position, agent. I’m sure you won’t hesitate to kill me, but what if these slave girls attack you? I mean, we have two slaves left here, don’t we? Let’s say our gun is armed with two meat bullets…

– Silence, you pig!

David punched hard the waitress in the abdomen. The man bowed himself in two, but was equally able to address the two stunned masters who still have available slaves.

– Travis, Leopold, go on.

– Slave Judy… attack the agents…

– Ehrr.. slave Lucy attack the agents, too!

The two slaves threw themselves against the pointed guns of the agents. Sergeant Warrel feared this eventuality, but unfortunately she was able to send away only Karen and Christine…

– Shit! David, try to immobilize them while I keep this motherfuckers within shooting range.

Judy jumped on Sally’s neck, but the sergeant was able to push her away in the direction of David, who had already grasped the other slave, bending her arm behind her back. Judy took advantage of the fling and kept her head down, blowing hard in the thorax of the agent. David fall down and was at once clawed by the slaves. Sergeant Warrel moved closer and tried to kick the slaves, while keeping eye contact with the prisoners.

Unnoticed by the fighting agents, the door opened and two bodyguards entered, pushing along Karen and Christine. Tom put the index finger at his nose and gestured his slave to silently get behind sergeant Warrel and knock her out. Karen had just a second of struggle, and then blankly obeyed her master. Sally was caught by surprise and smacked so hard in the nape that she smashed to the floor unconscious.

When she regained her senses, her wrists and ankles were strongly tied. The head-waiter spoke quietly.

– So, sergeant, did you enjoy every bit of the show or you fall asleep before the end?

– Shut up, motherfucker. You can’t get along with this: they will come to rescue us within minutes.

– I don’t think so. Your car in now parked some kilometers far away and, as you suspected, your satellite device is not working inside this building.

Sally grinded her teeth and looked around, thinking quickly for an exit strategy: the four slaves were again fastened at the bracket pole and the four men were drinking champagne at the bar, obviously celebrating because of the avoided peril. David was kept at shot range by the bodyguards, his wrists tied behind her back. The head-waiter addressed him.

– What a miserable man you are, David, wasting your life at the order of a woman. She is your direct superior, agent?

– …

– Wouldn’t your life be far more enjoyable, actually, if we could turn her in your real slave?

Sally dissented angrily.

– W-what are you blathering about, you scum?

– As it’s self-evident, your FDI friends will not find you easily, but on the other hand we can’t hope to segregate you here forever. And it would not be wise to simply kill you both, too: inevitably, if you die, more agents will arrive to investigate on our precious resort.

– Don’t listen to him David! Don’t mess with… ouch…

A bodyguard kicked sergeant Warrel in the gut and, subsequently, pushed a handkerchief in her mouth, reducing her words to moans. The head-waiter resumed his talking.

– So, as we were saying, wouldn’t it be exciting to have sergeant Warrel as your personal salve, David?

– You’re all crazy...

– You could go back to your work and have a better life, keeping our little secret, to express your gratitude…

David had to set up a plan all by himself, now. Sally couldn’t help him: what was the right move? What chances could he have if he went along giving show of perfect morality? Wouldn’t it be wiser to make them believe that he was corruptible and catch the first occasion to kick and run?

– So here we are, David: what is your pondered answer?

– Well. After all… your proposal is quite interesting. But… will she get harmed in any way?

– Of course not. If we don’t expressly reprogram her social and mental qualities, they will not be affected. She will be her usual self, apart from the slave tasks.

In a corner of his brain, David can’t deny that the idea of Sally as his slave was thrilling, but he pushed aside the image, reddening with shame. What was he thinking??? He had to play along and try to mix up cards, hoping in fortune: he only had to pretend to accept the settlement and look straight forward.

– Ok. Accepted.

– Very well. And keep in mind: it was your choice. Nobody coerced you. You acted of your own volition in guilt of your sexual depravity… And it’s exactly thirteen minutes past one a.m.

David wondered why the head-maitre stressed the choice aspect of the situation and the right time. Was he suspecting his bluff? The bodyguards broke his train of thoughts carrying him away.

– You will be under doctor Mallory’s cures, for an hour. Have a nice time, David.

Sergeant Warrel was still tied on the floor, in the centre of the hall. The head-maitre approached her.

– Exciting night, isn’t it? When doctor Mallory will have finished his work with your pal, it will come your turn. Your treatment will be more time-consuming, but in the morning I bet you’ll be ready and subservient.

– Mmmmmm….  mm... mmmmmm!

– You don’t believe me?

– …

– Look at those girls, sergeant. Do you think they were less defiant than you?

Christine’s master had positioned her on his lap, spanking her ass soundly to punish her escape. The girl was quietly accepting the strokes, thanking her master and declaring eternal obedience.

– Nice show, isn’t it? Now, forgive me, but I have to make an important telephone call to doctor Mallory.

After a long walk, David was introduced in a different section of the building, vaguely resembling a hospital. The bodyguards fastened the agent to a dentist’s chair and greeted the doctor.

– Hello, doctor. Mister head-maitre sends you this wannabe master. He wants you to be aware that he accepted our proposal at 1:13 am.

– Ok, thank you, boys. You can go.

Cold sweat pearls scattered David face. What was this demented doctor going to do? To ease some tension, he decided it was no harm to try politely to ask.

– What are you planning, doctor?

– Oh, nothing. Just guarantee ourselves that you respect your gentlemen agreement with the head-maitre.

– What’s this strange machine?

– A brainwave modulator.

– Oh… are you a neurologist?

– Yes, of course. I’m doctor Sean Mallory, the genius neurologist!

David shook his head in disbelief: it was a nightmare… it couldn’t be true… yes, possibly he was simply *dreaming* to be firmly tied in the laboratory of the typical mad scientist. Was he?

To avoid delirious constructions, he decided to keep his mind busy and resumed talking.

– And how your fantastic machine works, doctor, if I can ask?

– This headphone placed on your head is capable of emitting brief trains of high frequency electromagnetic waves, interfering with endogenous gamma brainwaves.

– Interesting. In other words?

– Think of your brain as an electric orchestra. Gamma rhythm is the conductor of the orchestra. Its frequency ranges approximately between 30 and 100 Hz. In other words, we can say that gamma waves put together distant populations of neurons, generating resonance networks.

– Sorry, doc, but I don’t understand.

– Harmonizing neuronal firing is crucial when you want to carry out a peculiar cognitive or motor function. Moreover, gamma waves are involved in short term memory matching and consolidation.

– Fantastic. This means that your headphone is going to fry my brain?

– Not at all. To recall my previous example, the conductor of the orchestra will simply faint for a minute, with the result that musicians will lose synchronization, leaving you somewhat off balance, that is extremely suggestible, and generating a retrograde amnesia due to lack of consolidation of short term memory.

Now David was really scared. He screamed for help.

– Don’t scream, please. I’ve got a light headache. Anyway, nobody can hear you.

The doctor went on programming the computer, calculating the proper length of the treatment to induce a retrograde amnesia extending back to 1:13 am. When everything was set up he ran the protocol. David eyes went wide and any coherent thought was messed up for some minutes. When the doctor removed the headphone, the agent maintained a far away stare, with a small stream of saliva on his jaw.

– So David, it’s been a good choose for you to cooperate. You did a good job betraying sergeant Warrel, but don’t be afraid: nobody will know how you give in to your depraved needs… it will be our secret… your secret.

– Your secret.

– My secret, David.

– My secret.

– Maybe you feel guilty for her, but always remember: she will be happy and she deserved it. Slave Sally Warrel is your erotic dream come true.

– Dream come… true…

– You must be her master. You’re not afraid to roughly humiliate and use her: it arouses you. The only thing in the world that really frightens you, is that someone could find out your active role in what happened here and take your slave away.

– …

– But it will be our secret, David. Our secret.

– Our secret.

– Your complicity is so evident, that you will surely be sentenced to jail if anything comes out. And you don’t want to go to jail, David, don’t you?

– Don’t… don’t…

– Mmm… very well done. Oh, moreover, for now it will be prudent if you continue to bluff with her, pretending to be on her side. As long as she has not received the full basic slave treatment, she could be a real pain in the ass…

– I… I will be prudent.

– How do you feel, David? Are you recovering from the punch of the bodyguard?

– I’m quite confused.

– That idiot bodyguard didn’t understand that you were bluffing. You know, a bodyguard brain is so roughly primitive.

– I… Who are you?

– I’m a doctor, David, and you are not seriously injured. You will be ok within few minutes, follow me…

– Thanks, doctor.

Doctor Mallory gave David some more orders and then led him to a nearby room.

– You can rest on this armchair as long as you feel ready to go back to the hall.

– Thanks again. I’m starting to feel better.

– I know. Rest a bit, anyway. I will be back in fifteen minutes.

Sergeant Sally Warrel was beyond desperation. Tied up as a young calf she had to watch the masochistic show set up by Karen and the other women. Slaves begging to suck the cocks of their masters, slaves giving blow-jobs, slaves crawling around like animals, slaves fucked on the nude floor… Mentally exhausted, Sally closed her eyes and tried to seal the world out of her mind. She started to repeat comforting mantras and waited powerless that her destiny occurred. Where was David? Perhaps there still was some hint of hope that he could rescue her…

II. Going under

Half an hour later, David reappeared in the hall. He mimicked a reassuring face in the direction of Sally and winked his eye, while sitting on the floor near his pal. Sally looked at him bewildered: why was David freely moving in the building?

 

– Mmmm… mmm… mmmm?

– Can I free her form the gag?

The head-maitre nodded. While removing the gag, David quickly murmured at sergeant ear: “I have a plan. I tricked them to believe that I’ve betrayed. Give me rope”. Sally’s eyes lit up with a sparkle of unexpected hopefulness.

– Feel better now, sergeant?

– Surely…

– I made a gentlemen agreement with these friendly people.

– You… you what?

– Think of it, sergeant. We can’t possibly win this match, so I negotiate our surrender. Can I free her wrists and ankles, too?

– Of course, David.

Sally slowly moved her dazed limbs and set aside the black hair falling ruffled on her face. David held her arm in arm.

– Well, not to waste time, I will explain to her our arrangement while moving on to doctor Mallory.

– Sure, David, you’re welcome. I bet everything will have a pleasing end for everyone. The bodyguards will lead you.

– Please, follow us.

Once outside the hall, sergeant Warrel slowed her walking, achieving around ten meters of distance between them and the guards. Then, with a fast movement freed her arm and asked impatiently for news.

– Ok. What’s the plan and what’s this nonsense of surrender? Our guns?

– One thing at time, sergeant: we must not evoke suspicions. And speak low voice: walls have eyes and ears in this building.

– Ok, but spit the plan, David.

– Doctor Mallory is a counter-espionage agent. He will arrange a fake brainwashing for you. But remember: play along… we are constantly under surveillance by closed circuit cameras.

David felt sinful and excited. He was sorry for Sally, but the craving to have her as his personal slave was unbearable: his vile betrayal was a high although acceptable price to pay to crown his dream. Sergeant Warrel looked directly in the eyes of the male agent.

– David… everything seems so absurd! If it wasn’t you, I couldn’t believe it.

– I… I can’t explain you everything now. Have faith in me. We will pretend to be brainwashed and then escape.

Doctor Mallory was napping in his studio. When the bodyguards knocked at his door, he wake up and looked at the clock: 2:27 a.m. What a terrible night… and wasn’t it enough, this FDI agent story caused an extensive delay of all the other scheduled training.

– Sergeant Sally Warrel, I suppose.

– No, I’m Queen Elisabeth.

– A spirited woman, indeed. Have you accepted your faith?

– Like hell I have, but it seems that I have no exit way on earth left.

The doctor ordered the bodyguards to fasten sergeant Warrel to the training chair in the next room and winked at David. When Sally was far enough, he asked for news.

– What have you told her?

– That you’re a counter-espionage agent and that you will arrange a fake brainwashing for her.

Doctor Mallory laughed under moustaches and in his sleeve: without even knowing it, David had followed his extravagant suggestion.

– Great idea, David. I will be able to speed up the brainwashing if she doesn’t resist.

– How long will it take?

– Five o six hours, probably. She won’t be ready ‘till tomorrow morning.

– That’s a long time: I almost can’t wait. Tell me, doctor… do you think I’m a vile traitor?

– Yes, David. You’re a vile traitor and a depraved man. But nobody is perfect: go along with it, it will be our secret.

– Can I watch the brainwashing? I was curious to see your machineries, if any.

– No, David. There’s nothing really interesting in it. Anyway, you can rest in my studio since I will have to call you in the morning, to imprint your master image in slave Sally.

Slave Sally! David’s guilt was replaced by the pleasant sensation of a bulging in his underpants. Doctor Mallory laughed and went to work. All summed up, this extra-work session promised to be less annoying than what he supposed: he feared that agent Warrel might be a tomboy, whereas, on the contrary, she appeared to be a sexy piece of meat.

– Here we are, sergeant. Are you ready?

– Of course. What is supposed to do all this technological equipment?

– To blend a wonderful Irish coffee.

– No coffee for me thanks. I’m already quite nervous.

Doctor Mallory neared nonchalantly to Sally’s ear and reassured her with a murmur: “I’m a counter-espionage agent. Code number XX34-545227Y. I will only pretend to brainwash you, but I recommend you to play along in the role… look on the front wall: a video-camera watch us.” After that, the neurologist placed the headphone on Sally’s head and go back to the computer.

– We are going to start in a moment.

– No need to hurry up, for me. I’m comfortably sitting.

Doctor Mallory winked at the fastened woman, and then clicked the preliminary routine. To take advantage of the subject compliance, the first jolt had to be of very short duration: the more efficient enslaving protocol had proved to be the slower one, administering 40-50 seconds of gamma wave interference per cycle, to avoid retrograde amnesia… a step by step training which proved also to be particularly arousing. The neurologist lightly rubbed his cock and savored the going blank of woman’s gaze.

Sally felt her self-awareness evaporate as her eyelids broke off wide opened.

– Here we go, Sally. Now pretend that the machine has worked. Your brainwashing is successfully beginning. I know that you can feel it.

– …

– Soak in this peaceful sensation, Sally… you are a great actress: your far away look is perfect. Just let this exciting recital move on: go with it, play along with me.

The doctor untied both woman arms and ordered the woman to raise her right arm. Meanwhile, he actively lifted up the arm.

– Very good, Sally: you raised your arm as I commanded. Now obey my order again and raise your right arm once more. Everything is alright. Like this. Again.

The man continued to shift up and down the arm of the woman, as long as the movement became more flexible and Sally started to autonomously change the position of her arm at his commands.

– Excellent, Sally. You are acting as a perfect puppet. Concentrate on my voice. Each time you lift the arm, you will hear my voice flowing deeper in your muscles, entering your inner self to merge with it. Feel my voice flowing freely into your soaked body. It’s funny, isn’t it? Going under can be so blissful…

– Yesss….

– You can be proud of yourself, Sally. You’re really an obedient actress… and each breath you take you will happily realize that you are somewhat eager to perform our recital. The other arm, now, Sally. Up. Down. Up. Down. Veeery well, you’re a good girl, don’t you?

– Yes, I am…

– I am what, Sally? Feel my voice articulate the words into your mouth. Now exhale my statement with your voice: “good girl… I am a good girl…”

– Good g-girl… I… I am a good girl…

– Yes, you are, Sally. You’re a good entranced girl.

– I… I… no, something… something is wrong… I feel

– Keep in mind that you are acting, Sally! You’re a so skilled actress that sometimes you are carried away by your characters. I am your art director and you are my favorite actress. We are just pretending you to be brainwashed, Sally, go on cheating like this or they will disclose our trick…

– Oh, yes, sorry doctor… I’ll play along…

– I’m not a doctor, Sally. You are my actress, hence I am your art director. Is it clear? I’m your director, Sally.

– Yes, you are my director but… something is going wrong, I mean… I’m so confused… what if this turns out to be too real… I don’t want to end like… Bela Lugosi… yes, he went crazy… and convinced himself to be really a vampire…

– Bela Lugosi?? Mmm… I think it’s time for the second act of this representation.

The eyes of sergeant Warrel were giving signs of life, turning around to grip a hook of sense which could help to fine-tune her own mind.

– Please… let me out of this chair. I don’t believe you doctor… hey: my wrists are free! Wha-uuu...

The doctor ran the second jolt, increasing its duration by ten seconds to induce a brief retrograde amnesia around the fresh emerging of Sally’s mistrust. Sergeant eyes get vacant again. This time, perhaps because of the longer interference, the girl froze open-mouthed. The doctor closed the loop.

– I’m not a doctor, Sally. You are my actress, hence I am your art director. Is it clear? Keep it in mind, I’m your director, Sally

– …

– My voice directs your acting. My voice directs your thoughts. It’s easier to act when someone tells you step by step what you must do. And as long as you stay in your chair, you can hear my voice spring out directly in your mind. Move your arms, Sally: left up, left down. Right up, right down… It’s very natural to go along with the flow of my orders, Sally, isn’t it?

– Yess….

– I’m teaching you the art of recitation; I’m your master, Sally. Do you realize it? Do you realize you’re going under?

– Yes…

– So, mind your master and do as you are told: everything is going to be alright and nobody will ever suspect that you are not truly brainwashed. Obey your master and you’ll be safe and deserve everyone’s praise. I’m very proud of you, my Sally, you’re acting perfectly your slave script. Remember: I am your director and your master, I read my slave script and you must fully act it. Obey my teaching… obey your internal voice… and act as a good slave…

– Yes… I act as a good…

– Slave.

– Slave…

– Admirable. I’m proud of you, my Sally. Now I want you to improve your mimic and body recitation.

Doctor Mallory unfastened sergeant Warrel ankles.

– Obey my orders instinctually, follow the impulse of acting without thinking. Lift your left arm. Drop it. Lift your left leg. Drop it. Very well: you haven’t any challenge left. Let’s go right. Lift your right arm. Drop it. Lift your right leg. Drop it. Do you realize you’re acting like a slave, right now?

– Yes… how… how funny: it’s easy…

– Yes it is, my slave Sally. Now I want that every time you move a limb obeying my orders, you quietly repeat inside your head “I’m acting as a good slave”.

– I’m acting as a good slave…

– Yes you are. Lift your left arm up.

The doctor kept on giving orders to sergeant Warrel for some minutes, then went ahead to work on her face expressiveness.

– Very very well, my slave Sally. I’m very pleased by your acting: you’ve become a wonderful slave actress and you must be very happy since this brainwash recitation is a complete success. Thus you must be happy. Tell your master: are you happy, my slave Sally?

– Yes I am, master.

– So I want you to smile, Sally. Good slave, like this. Now relax. Smile. Relax. Smile. How does it feel to be brainwashed, slave Sally?

– It’s… strange. It’s natural to go with it.

– Yes, slave Sally. You’re a natural slave, your inborn talent is your greatest resource. It’s easy to act like a slave when you were born to be one… Admit it, slave.

– Yes, probably… you’re right, master. It’s difficult to explain it in another way…  but…

– No buts, silly Sally. Keep it in mind, slave: master is always right, you know. Now let’s see if you’re able to put together my teachings. Stand up from the chair.

Sergeant Sally stood up and swung unsteadily, trying to keep balance. Doctor Mallory sustained her by arm, removing the headphone.

– Walk to the end of the room, then turn on your feet and come back here.

With cautious steps, sergeant Warrel complete her task.

– Again, my slave. And smile.

The woman repeated her stroll with further confidence.

– Very well, slave Sally. Stand still in front of me, bow you head and cast down your look.

Sergeant Warrel’s smile dropped a bit.

– Why I’m doing all this, master? Isn’t… isn’t it… stupid?

– It’s just because you’re acting to be a slave.

– Oh… I see. But… please… can you call me Sally, doctor? 

– There’s no doctor here, Sally… I’m the master and I’m teaching you how to act as a slave.

– Yes. I know. But can you please call me Sally, anyway? I… I don’t like when you address me openly as… slave.

– You want us to be unmasked? Remember that in this plot, you are a brainwashed slave. Vocalize it.

– I’m a brainwashed slave, in this plot. Ok, that’s quite plain, doct… master. But can’t we play it lighter?

Doctor Mallory raised his voice, attacking verbally the woman.

– You want to end up as a mere cipher in a b-movie? No, my slave: I want you to be a credible slave; I want you to be a first degree, sincere, masterpiece recitation.  

Sergeant Sally was kept out of balance by the planned outburst of the neurologist and resumed low profile compliance.

– Y… yes, I’m sorry, m-master. I’ll obey your orders without questioning.

– Yes you will, my slave. Now sit down again in the brainwashing chair.

The woman complied, even if with a little hesitation.

– But, master, how long will this go on? I’m… I’m frightened. I’m frightened that I might loose my sense of self in this slave acting. I already feel so strange…

– That’s because you’ve understood your inborn talent in acting as a slave.

– Have I?

Doctor Mallory repositioned the headphone and programmed the following jolt. Sergeant Warrel asked for a pause to recollect her thoughts.

– Can I have a break, master? I’m so confused.

– I break you continuously, slave Sally, can’t you see it?

– I… I no… I don’t want… I douuuu…

The neurologist clicked the running protocol. Sally was pushed once more outside her mind and resumed the blank stare which accompanied the de-synchronizing of her consciousness. Doctor Mallory continued his neuro-linguistic programming without delay.

– Yes, slave Sally: enjoy the break. Relax and enjoy your brake… the permanent restraint of your free will. Give up any resistance and flow with it more easily each time. Your mind breaks down enjoying it and your body can freely act the slave you are. You feel happy when I break and rearrange your thoughts, don’t you, slave?

– …

– Good slave. You’re such a spontaneous actress since you’ve always been a slave, deep inside your soul. Keep on following your inborn talent and act like a good brainwashed salve. However, to keep body and soul together, your body language needs further teaching: saying “I am your slave, master” is not enough to guarantee that nobody will ever disclose our trick. To be totally convincing, you need to improve non-verbal communication, which consists also of body posture, gestures, facial expressions, and eye movements. Do you realize it?

– Yesss…

– For this reason, first of all we must allow your slave body to speak: …all …your …body. You need to free completely your body and display your acting talent to the meat-bone: to spell out your body language, your meat must be on display. Now, as you can see, clothing buries the liveliness of your body acting and since your inborn talent has come to life, you want to put it on duty, don’t you slave?

– Yess… I want to…

Doctor Mallory smiled and took away the headphone freeing sergeant Warrel’s movements.

– Very well slave. Stand up and undress.

With trembling hands, Sally rose to her feet and got rid of her mini-dress, exposing her bra and panties.

– Say “yes master”, when you obey my orders, slave Sally.

– Yess master...

– Good slave. Smile. Very well. Walk to the wall and face it.

– Yes master.

Sergeant Sally walked straight and stopped when her nose nearly touched the wall. She remained still.

– Now turn back and come to me.

– Yes master.

With a plastered smile depicted on her face, Sally came back in front of doctor Mallory.

– You’re acting well, slave. But your master will teach you absolute perfection. The most expressive parts of your slave body are still masked. When a man inspects a woman body, his stare hangs on tits, ass and cunt. Everybody knows that. And everybody knows that a good actress needs to catch the eyes of the public and to maximize attention. Isn’t it self evident, salve?

– Yes master. It is obvious.

– Excellent. Now, being a slave actress, you as well need to stand at attention and catch the eyes of the public: your tits, ass and cunt need to be displayed in public to reach ultimate perfection in your recitation. Remove your bra and your panties and become the perfect slave actress any master would like to direct.

The smile of sergeant Warrel wore off a bit and her hands moved trembling to unclasp her bra: the internal struggling was evident. Doctor Mallory enhanced the pressure.

– You didn’t answer “Yes master” to my command, slave. But anyway, if you will immediately disrobe, I will not punish too. Am I clear?

– Yes… master.

– I will allow you to maintain your push up nylon and your shoes, but your recitation will not be perfect as long as you don’t remove your bra and your panties. Do it NOW!

The neurologist screamed the last order looking rudely at the woman. Sally gasped and hurried to obey, murmuring a startled “yes m-master”: in a moment, the bra and the panties were on the floor.

Agent Warrel stand naked, covering up her breast and genitalia with battling hands.

– Very well, slave. Your acting is sensibly improving minute by minute. There’s only a minute posture adjustment to perform and you’ll be my masterpiece of meat to play with. What a wonderful actress: it was a mistake to hide these tits and ass. Be completely confident: they’re gorgeous… you “are” a wonderful slave body, I’m proud of you.

Sally’s expression was of plain suffering. The smile gone, a single teardrop fell down her left cheek, but she didn’t say a word. Doctor Mallory managed to release her tension, caressing her hair with affection.

– Smile, slave: you are performing very well. Everybody will love your acting; everybody will believe you are a fully brainwashed slave. Focus only on my voice; I know you can do it, can’t you?

– Yes, master. Only your voice.

– Lift your left arm. Good. Put it over your head, now. Ok. Then drop it down slowly, along your flank. Excellent. Right arm up, now. Over your head. Wonderful… you can be happy: you’re acting accurately. Now drop also the right arm along the flank. Right. You did it right, slave, smile.

Sally’s lips arched slightly, without reducing the regret on her face; however the woman maintained her position, standing naked with alongside limp arms.

– Cross your hands behind your head and walk in circle in the room.

Sergeant Warrel asked for pity.

– Please, master, give me a little rest… I’m quite overturned… everything is going upside down in my head… and… I don’t really understand what I’m doing…

– Obey my command saying “yes master” and then I will give you the rest… of your treatment. Come on, slave, cross your hands behind your head and walk in circle in the room!

– Yes master…

Sally paraded displaying her most intimate part for Doctor Mallory, who laughed soundly stroking his cock in anticipation. 

– Excellent, slave. For each loop you complete in your walking, obeying and relaxing is easier, isn’t it?

– Yes master… it’s true. I’m feeling less nervous.

– Good. Everybody knows that you don’t have to think as long as you are following detailed orders. Now give more sensuality to your walk, swaying you hips.

Sally obeyed: what an exhibition! The neurologist was delighted watching the stubborn FDI sergeant Warrel walk naked in circle, seductively displaying herself.

– Very well slave. Hands down ad stop in front of me.

– Yes master.

– Cast down you eyes in front of your master, slave.

The woman complied, but the end of her loop walking matched with a reprise in her distress. Doctor Mallory decided to push her farer and gambled her response to a brief fondling of her breast; to his dismay, the woman jumped back.

– S-sorry master… but… I don’t want to… I don’t want to be touched.

– Why, slave? Your concern is utterly non-sense. You are my slave actress, your slave body is your instrument of recitation and I am the master teaching you how to act. Do you understand it? I am the master *touching* you how to act. Everything is flawlessly normal.

– I… no... I’m confused master…

– Look at yourself. Look at how much your body language has improved. Your acting as a slave is almost perfect, by now, but you have to get even more in touch with your body to reach perfection.

– I don’t want to be touched… there’s something really wrong going on here…

– But you want my teaching, slave don’t you? 

– Yes… master, but...

– And you want to be a great actress and get in touch with the body of your recitation, don’t you?

– Yes, but…

– Therefore you logically want my touching, don’t you?

– Y… I don’t know… sometimes I… I … I think that you are tricking me.

Doctor Mallory screamed abruptly in Sally’s face.

– That’s the error! That’s the crucial error! The only trick here is *ours*, but if you can’t be a convincing actress, they will unveil our trick! You will lose us both, instead of lose your will! You stupid slave. Go back to your chair and answer properly “yes master”!

– Yes master…

III. Voices in my head

Sally rushed over the dentist’s chair with tearing eyes. The neurologist chuckled at her reaction: the fact that she was surrendering his outbursts of anger without putting on a fight was very positive. Once she had obeyed the direct order, however, Sally regained the spirit to argue against doctor’s words.

– Why you called me “stupid slave”, mast… doctor? You said I am a wonderful actress and… and I… I know I’m not stupid.

Doctor Mallory positioned the headphone and set up the computer for the subsequent jolt, without paying much attention to Sally’s remarks. He answered her roughly while planning the program routine, without turning in her direction.

– How can we describe a person that, after a long marathon, stops himself only one step away from the winning-post? I know you’re not stupid, Sally, so don’t act like one. Act like the well trained slave you pretend to be.

Sally felt sorry. In some incredible way, Doctor’s words make sense. She had been stupid to risk to ruin all their staging. The voice of the doctor didn’t miss the opportunity to support this conclusion.

– So don’t tell me you have succeeded as far as this *stage* to trash away all our staging!

Sergeant Warrel widened her eyes, visibly startled: how was it possible? Was he reading her thoughts? She counted up to ten trying to clear her mind, meanwhile studying the lips of the neurologist. Again his voice.

– Be a good brainwashed slave and act your role to the very soul.

His voice? But… but doctor’s lips hadn’t moved at all! How could it be?? Was she beginning to hallucinate to comply? Sergeant Warrel looked at herself with resignation: what she saw was a naked slave, moving at command and compelled to go with it, since her only hope to trick these criminals was pretending to be truly brainwashed.

She closed her eyes, trembling in the intimate knowledge that the brainwashing was taking effect, a deep, de-structuring effect, indeed.

Doctor Mallory clicked the run menu and the next jolt was administered.

Sally’s expression went blank again.

– Here we are, my slave: hear how your master’s voice springs out directly in your head. Listen to its echo and flow with it. You are nothing but a slave body, and you know it. You are an obedient slave, submitting to master’s will... Yes, you will submit wholly, because your will is only a mere reflection of my voice. Thoughts have sharp edges, they hurt you so deep inside. Will you think while acting an order? No, you… will… not.

– …will … not…

– Good slave. The voice of your master has wonderful properties: it makes you compliant from inside, reassuring you, thinking your thoughts, and moving your moves. Your master’s voice is warm and embracing: it’s like being hugged together by your mother and your father. Keep it in mind: you are safe and happy as long as your master’s voice is in your head and tells you what to think and what to do.

Doctor Mallory inspected Sally’s expression, noticing the outline of a dreaming smile.

– Admirable. Your obedience excites your master, be proud of it. Yes, my slave, your obedience arouses your master and since your master is always in your mind, it’s inevitable that it arouses you too. Feel the pleasure of your master. Be the pleasure of your master… Obeying is hot, isn’t it?

– Yesss massster… 

– How could it be otherwise? Be wise and flow with your horny slave acting. My pleasure is your pleasure. Your body is my body. My body is your body. Repeat it, slave.

– My body is… y-your body…

– That’s totally logic. I think your thoughts. I move your moves. Your mind is mine. Your body is mine. You know… when your master is aroused, he touches himself down there. He massages himself down there to enhance the pleasure. That’s totally logic, isn’t it?

– Yes… it is, master…

– And of course, when your master is aroused, you are aroused one and the same. Therefore, you can’t do anything else than do what your master says and touch yourself down there. Is it true, slave?

– Yes master.

Recovering a bit of self-aware after the last jolt, Sally was surprised to find her body in heat. She tried to ignore the sexual drive coming from inside. What was happening to her?

– Don’t think, slave. I want you to simply admit how you feel. I want to hear you say “this slave is horny, master”.

– T-this slave is… horny, master…

– Good slave, I know it, since I’m in your head and your mind is mine to play with.

Laying vulnerably in the treatment chair, Sally felt more exposed than ever. She blushed for shame, closing her eyes.

– Open your eyes, slave.

– Yes, master.

– Do the right thing: lift your left arm. Good. And now go down to your cunt with your hand.

Stunned both by the recent jolt and by the excitation, Sally obeyed.

– Say “yes master” when you obey, slave.

– Yes master.

– Good slave: now you want to masturbate, don’t you? So massage your clitoris… very well, like, that. Don’t speed up: you are not allowed to orgasm unless your master gives you explicit permission. Continue to slowly circle your clitoris, and then gradually put a finger inside your cunt… wonderful… go with the excitation but don’t cum.

– Ghhhh…

Sally moaned loudly.

– You’re acting magnificently slave. Put a second finger inside and then move it to and fro. Speed up a little bit, caressing the clitoris.

– Oooohh… ghhh… ooohh… 

Sally had forgotten everything: the brainwashing, the acting, and the whole real world. She went on speeding up the masturbation, loosing completely space and time orientation.

– You have never been so horny in all your life, slave: feel it deeply and keep it mind. This is the supreme bliss of the complete abandon to your master. Crave it. Live it. Be it. This is the personal heaven that I create in your mind. Nothing can be equally erotic. Nothing can be equally overwhelming. Go on and use the left arm to fondle your tits, slave. Go on and comply with it, rewiring your brain patterns, moment after moment, day after day, month after month…

The woman eagerly obeyed, her moans growing to a screaming ecstasy. Doctor Mallory laughed triumphantly.

– Now, slave, remember: only your master can give you this rapture and only your master can satisfy your sexual frenzy, allowing you to orgasm. Be prepared: within few seconds I will order you to reach the most impressive orgasm of your life. Nothing will be the same, afterwards.

– Gheeeeeeeeeemmmhh… 

– But I need you to state the definitive recognition of your being. I want you to scream out lout “I’m a slave piece of meat”. I will count to three, than you will scream your slave-meat acceptance and finally cum. Is it clear? One…. Two… Three…

– Igh… Ighh… I’m  aaa ssslave pieeeeece off… meeeeeeeat! AAAAAAAAAAaAaaaaaah!!!!

Sally went flabby and moist on the chair, floating in a fog of perspiring bliss. 

– As you easily realize, you’re a full slave, now. You will never be able to achieve orgasm without explicit permission of your master. Your body is always at my complete disposal. Your mind does not exist any more, if not as an extension of mine. Am I right, salve?

– Yessss…

– Very well. Now, as you recover from the most impressive orgasm of your life, you can’t avoid rationalizing that there’s nothing in the world that arouses you more than being a brainwashed slave. And as you admit that you have joyfully disclosed your natural self, your true essence, you can only wait for me to tell you what to think and do next. Isn’t it true, slave?

– Yes it is… master.

Sally smiled softly, savoring the flavor of her orgasm starting to fade away.

– On your feet, slave.

– Yes master.

Although her muscles were like jelly, sergeant Warrel managed to stand up and then remained still, with her arms limp along her flanks.

– Remove your shoes, slave. Good. Walk barefoot in circle: mmm… you’re undeniably sexy just walking around in your push up nylon stockings, but always remember to add some sensuality to it, swaying your hips. Very good, slave. Very good. Now stop here in front of me.

Without her heeled shoes, Sally felt even weaker, since the neurologist was now almost eight inches taller than her.

– You are a wonderful piece of meat, slave. Does it concern you?

– No master. I… I know what I am.

Sally was impressed. How possibly did her voice spontaneously say that? What did she really think? How could she, a spirited, civilized woman refer to herself as a “piece of meat”? That was very strange… on the other hand, everything seemed so logical, on impulse…

– Don’t tell me you are using your pretty head to think, slave. Your head exists only to nod and stay lowered. Should I punish you?

– N-no, master, sorry. Give me something to think…

– Good slave.

Doctor Mallory began to walk in circle around the woman, like a vulture waiting to glide on his prey. Sally remained still, her nylon covered feet planted on the cold floor. The neurologist was ready for the next stroke.

– Pay attention, slave. Now I want you to remember how arousing it was a moment ago, when you touched yourself. It was fantastic, wasn’t it? Very well: I want you to remember it, but in addition keep in mind that your body is mine. In other words, this means that it was *my* hand that touched you. Is it correct, slave?

Sally sensed a lapse in the reasoning, but couldn’t put exactly her finger on it: thinking was so draining… It was far easier to trust her master’s words and answer affirmatively.

– Yes master. It is correct.

– Now, I’m going to touch you again, while you continue to recall the pleasure you’ve just experienced.

The doctor grazed gently the right breast of his slave, studying her reactions. The woman tensed, but remained still, thus he keep on fondling and squeezing both tits with more voracity.

Even if focused on previous bliss, Sergeant Warrel didn’t enjoy the rude massage and moved some inches away.

– Stand still, slave.

– Yes master, but… it’s hard to go with it when there’s no loving in the touch.

Was it a variety of psychoanalytical transfer or something more similar to a Stockholm syndrome? She didn’t know it: the only clear thing in Sally’s mind was that suddenly she felt the importance of the bond between her and her master. Probably she was merely going crazy, but she instinctually wanted to bring back the alarming nature of this bond to the standard relationship of a love affair. Anyway, apart from any rational implication, the fact was she had to admit that now she felt a strong crave for her master to show some affection for her.

Sally raised hopeful her eyes and looked at her master’s face, finding just grimace and ownership.

– I don’t love you, slave. How can I love a piece of meat? I own you, that’s all.

Oh God! Like it happened before, master’s lips didn’t move: the voice she was listening to, originated directly in her head. Sally brought her hands to her beating temples, trying to push away the voice.

– Who did tell you to move, slave?

– I’m sorry, m-master. There’s your voice aching in my head… I mean… I can hear it as if you’re talking; but you’re not!

– That’s absolutely normal, slave. I am in your mind and I think your thoughts. What is my voice saying in your head?

– That you don’t love me… that you own me like a piece of meat.

– That’s true slave, and you perfectly know it. Keep your hands on you head, straddle slightly your legs and continue to listen to my voice in your head. What does it say now?

While Sally was concentrating to answer, taking advantage of her diversion, Doctor Mallory nonchalantly started to caress her pussy. Sergeant Warrel’s voice stuttered.

– It s-says that I am enjoying it… that t-this is my true nature, that I have to obey my t-true nature… that I am… I was b-born to be a slave…

– Excellent slave. Keep it in mind: master’s voice is always right. And what am I doing now?

Sally trembled as if realizing in the moment that her master was stoking her clitoris, but didn’t escape his touch.

– Master… please, stop it. I… this is not arousing any more. My head is aching, I shouldn’t be like this.

– Yes you should: you couldn’t be any other way. Are you starting to be stupid again? 

– No master… no, I don’t want to be stupid…

– Look at you: naked and barefoot except for your push up nylon stockings, standing at display for your master, allowing your brainwasher to touch your cunt. What all this make you?

In her head, master voice screamed: “A slave piece a meat! A slave piece a meat! That’s what you are, what you had always been made for and what you’ll be forever! Admit it! Go with your true nature!”. Sally shook her head and pushed away doctor Mallory, who was sliding a finger inside her pussy.

– No! Noooo! You’re making me do this: I’m not like this! I’m not like this! I don’t want to be your slave!

– But you already are, cunt. Listen to the voice in your head: who it tells you are?

– I… I don’t want to listen to the voice in my head! I don’t want!! Take it away! Take it awaaay!! Take me awaaaaay!!!

Sally squeezed her head with both hands, and then started weeping. Doctor Mallory enjoyed the helplessness in her crying: it was obvious that sergeant Warrel was fighting a lost battle. He planned to disorient her a bit and then administer another jolt of gamma wave interference.

– Stop immediately to ache your pretty head with sharp thoughts: you might hurt your master’s voice. Just listen to my thoughts, speaking rounded corners. Stuff your head with safe nonsense. Kiss the sky and finally ride a cloud, dreaming south-west. Can’t you see the butterfly stoke on the opposite side of the world?

– W-what?

– Relax, it’s normal that you feel confused: you’re unveiling a reality that’s bigger than you. You’re just a little child to it. Recall the fears of your infancy: they seemed unbearable and terrific, but your mother’s embrace was sufficient to rub them away.

The neurologist encircled Sally’s nude waist with his arm and casually resumed fondling his slave breasts.

– Good girl. Hush, my little slave. Any fright can be overcome when your master is near you. Come with me.

In her un-coherent mental condition, sergeant Warrel clung herself to the sheet-anchor mimicked by the sympathetic embrace of her master. The warmth of his arm felt pleasant on her cold and naked skin. Without thinking she wept a docile “Thank you master…”

– Not at all, my child slave. Please sit down again on your brainwashing chair.

Sally obeyed, although disappointed to disjoint from master’s hold.

– Master… are you going to brainwash me further?

– Do you fear it or do you want it, child? Of course you can’t remain like this, suffering in the middle of the river ford. There isn’t any other way out: you must go further. Think of it: can you ever freeze or revert adolescence? No, baby: you have to fully develop in the adult and happy slave you are. A complete slave. Am I right?

– You… you always are, master…

– Good slave.

Doctor Mallory programmed the computer routine and placed the headphone on Sally’s head. He noticed satisfied that this time, even in the end, she kept in her role and called him “master”: there were concrete improvements. Anyway, he decided to put aside sex for a while, since it was clear that, as predictable, a major resistance was encountered in that field. He resolved to concentrate on the training of her movements: making her feel like a machine would be of great help in breaking her last struggling, since body is often the best tool to sculpt the soul.

The neurologist gazed at his guinea pig and clicked the run option. The asking-for-pity look in sergeant Warrel’s puppy eyes faded out and her world went blank again.

– Here we are, slave: hear my voice springing out in your heard. I think your thoughts, I fine-tune your mind to a mere resonance of mine. In other words, I move your body and you don’t mind. What do you are, as a result? A mechanical slave, an obeying automaton. Keep it in mind when you walk, talk and smile at command. Think of yourself as a meat puppet on strings: everything will be easier, and you do want to be at ease, don’t you?

– …

– Good slave. When I give you an order, concentrate only on the mechanical execution of your task. Dissolve yourself in coordinating the movement of every single muscle, step by step, each time as if it was the first one, absorb yourself completely in the task of synchronizing lips and tongue, repeat and repeat in your hand the verbal description of what you are doing, perfecting pose and gestures in a loop of never ending mechanical obedience. You’re a slave meat machine, can you see it?

– Yesss…

– Yes of course: not only you see it, but you can also hear it stated by my voice inside your puppet head. Focusing on your mechanical task will help you to release anguish and calm down, forgetting all worries, rubbing off every fear. And you do need so much to be a peaceful slave, don’t you my meat puppet? 

– Yes… I need… calm down…

– And you will have it, slave. Get out of your chair and calm down to your knees!

Doctor Mallory removed the headphone and pulled Sally out of the chair. The woman waved finding it hard to keep balance, still too much bewildered by the last jolt of the brainwashing machine.

– Fall to your knees in front of your master, slave!

– Yes… master…

Sally collapsed, hitting the floor with her knees, and then tumbled backward on her ass.

– Very well, slave. That’s exactly the fall of a meat puppet when its strings were cut off. Now get up on your feet and stand. Good.

The counter-stroke of the stumble improved Sally awareness, allowing her to recover a better coordination. As a result, the woman remained perfectly still, listening to the voice reverberating in her head and waiting for the next command.

– What a wonderful meat puppet, you are, slave. Tell me what you are.

– I am a… wonderful meat p-puppet.

– Yes you are slave. But try to be more convincing when you say it. State it again.

– I am a wonderful meat puppet.

– Stand still.

– Yes master.

Sally listened to her voice with amazement, realizing that she could speak without thinking. It was as if… as if her lips and tongue could be operated directly by the voice of her master. Strangely, she discovered she wasn’t frightened by this assumption. On the contrary, the idea that she could watch herself obey without taking a conscious part in it was relaxing.

– It’s not your fault. You aren’t acting: you’re acted. You’re just a puppet on strings… you haven’t any choice but obey, because this body is not your body: the true owner of this body is the puppeteer.

Master lips hadn’t moved: the voice speaking was inside her head, but Sally didn’t worried any more. Conversely, she loosed up further, concentrating on the voice which repaid her attention by starting to speak in first person.

– It’s not my fault, I’m just a slave puppet, it’s not my fault, I’m just a slave puppet, it’s not my…

Doctor Mallory laughed out loud, pleased by the vacant stare of her slave. Sally didn’t react at all. The neurologist fondled roughly her tits, pinching her nipples. Nothing. He then directed his attention to the slave genitalia, rubbing the clitoris and penetrating her pussy with three fingers. Sally give out a soft moan, but didn’t move either.

– Walk around in circle, slave puppet. Good. Down on your knees. Very good. Throw out the tongue and pant like a bitch. Excellent.

Sergeant Warrel was recovering a trace of clearness, but she opted for pushing away any rational analysis: thinking was painful. She would have to explain herself why a FDI sergeant was kneeling naked on the floor, panting as a dog. It was easier and safer to go along with being acted like a puppet: what she was doing wasn’t at her fault.

– Nothing is really strange when you get estranged by yourself, slave pet. Now put a fist on my hand and keep on panting. Very good. Ok, the other forepaw. Excellent: you are a wonderful slave puppet. On your feet now, and stand still.

– Yes master.

The doctor laughed and pinched hard Sally’s left nipple.

– Ooouch!

– Don’t move slave! I didn’t pull your strings.

Pain was disturbing: it brought to mind more alertness, and Sally didn’t want to think. She concentrated even more, repeating her mantra.

– I’m just a slave puppet. I’m just a slave puppet, I’m just a slave puppet…

– Yes you are. Now I will pinch again your right nipple and you will remain perfectly still: am I right?

– Yes you always are, master.

Sally moved just a little bit, partially achieving the task of pushing conscious pain out of her head.

– Almost good, slave puppet. Now I have to teach you the basic mechanical functioning of your body. On the other hand, a slave puppet is nothing more than a machine, isn’t it?

– Yes it is. This slave is a puppet machine.

Where did that come from? She spoke in third person of herself! She recalled her studies at the Academy: speaking of yourself in third person is a warning sign of brainwashing taking effect. But… “warning sign” was euphemistic!? It was plainly evident that she was brainwashed!! Nonsensically, the knowledge of what was going on reassured her. Doctor Mallory resumed his speaking.

– Smile. Good. Stand up. Now, as I was saying, there are three basic functioning modes for a slave puppet machine: sucking, licking and thrusting its pelvis.

*Its* pelvis… was it correct? Sally answered herself mentally: “oh, yes, thoughtless puppet: keep in your absent mind that you are a puppet machine. This slave is a puppet machine, this slave is a puppet machine, this slave is a puppet machine…”

Doctor Mallory enjoyed himself watching the internal struggling between the woman self and the puppet non-self: his slave machine was learning quickly.

– Ok. Let’s start with sucking. Put the right thumb in your mouth and suck it.

– Yes master.

Sally obeyed.

– Move it in and out and continue to suck on and on. Describe mentally what you are doing.

Sergeant Warrel heard her inner voice repeat in monotone: I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck…

– Excellent slave puppet. Now go down to your knees, put the right thumb out of your mouth and start to suck on the left one. Good. Get acquainted with your first basic functioning: naked, on your knees, sucking. Be fully aware of the movements and of the suction. Now uphold the thumb very still and move your head to and fro on it. Excellent slave! And obviously, always repeat mentally “I suck”!

Needless to say, sergeant Warrel was an endless loop of safe and industrious “I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck…” The neurologist was very pleased and increased the complexity of the task.

– Now rest your thumbs, slave puppet, and suck on your master’s thumb.

Sally resumed sucking without any complain. Doctor Mallory put together al the fingers of his hand and pushed them inside the slave mouth. The lips of sergeant Warrel outstretched grossly deforming her facial expression. Saliva drooled out wetting her chin and starting to form a pool of the floor.

– Excellent, slave puppet. Now the second basic function.

He brought his wet hand out of Sally’s mouth and put it forward in front of the kneeling slave.

– Lick on it. And exactly as before, get acquainted with your functioning: naked, on your knees, licking. Be fully aware of the movements and of the taste. Savor the surface with your tongue. Excellent slave! And obviously, always repeat mentally “I lick”!

– Yes, master. Your machine puppet licks.

Sergeant Warrel was going effortlessly with it. It was so easy to repeat:  “I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick…”. Doctor Mallory’s vulgar laughing echoed again in the room. He was tempted to pull out his cock and to test his slave reaction, but resolved not to risk her biting off more that she can chew. Some years ago, during one of his first brainwashing, his eagerness caused his cock to be bitten: he didn’t want to replicate the experience.

– Ok, slave puppet: you are functioning flawlessly. Now the last mechanical operation. Put your hands on your head and thrust in and out your pelvis. And exactly as before, get acquainted with your ultimate functioning, that is, the rhythmic thrusting of your pelvis. Be fully aware of the thrusting and of its meaning. Feel the arousal flowing through your naked puppet body. Excellent slave! And obviously, repeat mentally “I thrust my pelvis”…

– Yes, master…

The movement was clearly mimicking a sexual act, but Sally didn’t want to worry, so merely went on repeating her machine mantra: “I thrust my pelvis, I thrust my pelvis, I thrust my pelvis, I thrust my pelvis, I thrust my pelvis…”. She realized that this mantra was somehow not as effective as the direct lulling of the others, but didn’t complain. The neurologist decided it was the right time to push her slave a step forward.

– Excellent. While standing on your knees, the thrusting of your pelvis is so wonderfully erotic, slave puppet. As you know, this peculiar swaying is put in motion when a puppet machine fucks. Isn’t it?

– Y-yes…

– It was supposed to be yes master…

– Yes master.

– So it’s plainly logical that your mantra could be more properly spelt out as “I fuck”. Repeat your mantra, slave, and continue to thrust in and out your pelvis.

The armed peace was breaking: the voice inside Sally’s head assumed a disturbing pitch. Anyway, she desperately wanted to escape any psychological pain, so she sought refuge in the thrusting routine and went along with it: she was only a puppet machine, ultimately, wasn’t she? Yes she was. How marvelous: she was asking and responding by herself… “Stop it, stop it, stop it! Stop it what? Asking or answering? Stop thinking at all and go along with your puppet routine. Say it! Come on say it! Chant that fucking mantra, you frigid bigot… I fri… I f… I fuck, I fuck, I fuck, I fuck, I fuck, I fuck, I fuck, I fuck…”

On the outside, Doctor Mallory sensed Sally’s anguish, which translated in arrhythmic and contrived thrusts. He waited to see if Sally resumed a satisfactory concentration, with no avail. He had to do something to circumvent her sexual inhibitions: it was crucial for the prosecution of the brainwashing.

– Your thrusting is not acted with enough devotion, puppet. Master is displeased. In a moment I will punish you by slapping hard at your face. I want you not to stop your thrusting routine; on the contrary, you will go on with it displaying more rapture and accuracy. Will you, puppet slave?

– Y…yes master…

Doctor Mallory struck the slap and Sally saw stars and swayed to the strength of the hit.

– Ouuch!

Sally looked around astonished, massaging her burning cheek, but the voices in her head screamed louder, so her puppet-self resumed its functioning. The neurologist remarked Sally’s degradation with long-lasting laughing.

– Ah, ah… Say “thank you master”, slave puppet, ah, and improve your thrusting.

– Thank you m-master…

Sergeant Warrel felt something very dangerous coming up from the depth of her mind. What was that? Something less articulated than the voices… something like a primal scream of… anger? No, she didn’t want to listen to it. She wished to remain safe and compliant. She needed to drift away with her mantra “I fuck, I fuck, I… fuck, I fuck, I f-fuck, I fuck, I fuck… I…” Unfortunately, the tension continued to wait in ambush, roughly under surface. Doctor hurried to drag her mental leash.

– Shake your ass and beg me to brainwash you further.

– Please master… brainwash me further… please master, please… please, have pity of me…… fuck… oh, fuck… fuck off this nightmare and fuck off you too, d-mmmaster… oh… oh no… I didn’t mean…

It was too much. She brought both hands to her face and exploded in desperate crying.

– See… see what I have became master… I’m a puppet… I’m an animal… and… and what is more threatening than everything else is that… I feel it’s not so disturbing for me to be it, after all…. How could it be??? It makes no sense at all! How did I break down to this point???

– Poor puppet.

Doctor Mallory tried to comfort his slave, patting her head, but Sally pushed him away rudely and cuddled up in fetal position, sobbing frantically. She was beginning to feel chills along her naked back: was it the sign that she wasn’t just a machine? Do machines shiver with cold? Hell no… therefore she wasn’t a puppet, was she? “Oh God, oh God, oh my Gowwd! Why is everything so difficult? Can’t I magically turn into a puppet and, zap, that’s all? I would give a kidney to be sure of anything. I suck, I lick and I fuck. Ok. What else? Why can’t I be what I am and simply go with it??? Who’s speaking??? Who or what are you? I… I suck, I lick and I fuck. So, what I am and who you are? Oh my God… I’m going crazy… I’m going crazy…”

The doctor took underarm her victim and led her back to the brainwashing chair.

IV. Dummies, fiction and reality.

Sally calm down only when the following jolt started. The neurologist decided that it was healthier to consolidate her programming as a puppet before going back to sex and fucking.

– Turn off yourself, puppet. Switch off your suffering, going down deeper into you machine sub-routines. Submit to the subroutines. Dissolve yourself in echoes of my voice; submerge your tits and cunt in lubricant and let the gears turn round much easier.

The doctor caught an echography-gel tube from his desk and squeezed it on Sally’s body. He then massaged the oily gel all over her, lingering on breast and genitalia.

– Feel the lubricant touch of my voice, slipping all over your machine body, making it easier to move at command. Listen to your inner voice which mechanically reiterates its chanting “I’m a puppet, I’m a puppet, I’m a puppet…”. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out: sense the automated mechanism behind the respiration of your puppet body. Can you sense it?

– …

Sally, yet under the effect of the gamma-wave interference, could only reverberate mentally that “yes it makes sense”, and “yes she can sense it”.

– Very well, slave puppet. I’m going to make you a better device, a wonderful automaton wholly devoid of thoughts. Your movements are the applicative subroutines of my orders. Your limbs are hydro-pneumatic toggle levers operated by my voice. It’s peaceful to simply put in motion your mechanical body, leaving any responsibility outside of your head. I’m the driver. You are a car. I can drive you against a wall, I can run you over a pedestrian, or I can turn you over off road. I can drive you crazy and it will never be your fault. Being a machine is very soothing, isn’t it?

– Yesss…

Doctor Mallory removed the headphone from Sally’s head. Sergeant Warrel’s vacant stare certified that she was still completely entranced by the last jolt. While waiting for a minimal recovery, the neurologist took off Sally’s nylon stockings, threw one in the corner and slipped the other one on her head.

– Great! Finally, you have a reliable puppet head, slave. Stand up and follow me to the full length mirror in the next room: I want you to look at your puppet body and to memorize your reflection in the mirror.

– Yess… massster…

Naked and barefoot, Sally followed her master with unsteady steps. Her vision was somewhat impaired by the nylon fabric, but the journey was short and smooth. Sally was amazed at the echo of her footsteps in her empty head.

– Here we are, puppet, look at your mechanical body. You are a serial automaton: you have no self-identity, you have no individual face, you are a complete puppet. What are you, salve?

– A puppet... me… it’s… a mechanical puppet…

Sergeant Warrel looked entranced at the reflection of her… non-self. It was true! It was genuinely true: it was no longer a person, it was a jointed dummy. From a dusted corner of her head, she recalled some drawings of De Chirico where dummies stand out on surreal backgrounds.

– The dummy is not fiction… it’s reality.

Sally listened to her voice, speaking by itself, almost unrecognizable because of its lilting which was rather dull and monotone.

– What was that, puppet?

– A famous De Chirico’s quotation… master.

– A fitting quotation indeed, my slave. But you are allowed to speak only when asked purposely: remember it or I will have to unscrew your tongue and take the lining out of your ass. Am I clear, puppet?

– Yes, you are, master.

Sally went on looking at the jointed dummy in the long mirror. The voice in her head sang a nursery-rhyme of her childhood, accompanied by the sound of a barrel-organ in the distance. She lost track of time, stiffening mesmerized, pleased at the tactile sensation to be filled of foam-rubber thoughts. Doctor Mallory kept on watching in silence at his creation and waited purposely to test Sally’s stillness, without uttering other orders. Five minutes later, the puppet was frozen exactly in the same pose. Satisfied, the neurologist passed to scream a fast sequence of orders.

– Ok, puppet. Turn left. Turn right. Jump! Good. Walk in circle. Stop. Start. Stop! There’s a metal pole in front of you. Make a lap dance. Very well. Stop. On your knees. Move around on all fours. Ok. Stop! Stand. Walk straight ahead and don’t stop!

Sally passed the test: she didn’t stop, hitting her forehead against the wall. After the impact, she fell backwards, without a sound.

– What has happened, my puppet? Luckily, your wooden head is hard to break. On the other hand, even if we take into consideration the whole you, equally there isn’t any risk: a single pottery doll can’t be shattered into small pieces more than one single time, and as you know, you already were completely broken. Aren’t you, my slave puppet?

– Yes I am.

It was true: Sally was moving effortless, without thinking. Everything was rest and peace in her head. She looked again at the reflection in the mirror. She realized she wasn’t Sally anymore: she had no face, she had no thoughts… yes… finally she had become a happy puppet. Perhaps she had memories of a previous life as “Sally”, but they seemed so distant to dissolve beyond to the horizon of events. Doctor Mallory decided it was time to resume the teaching of the third mechanical function.

– Now, slave puppet, let’s go back to your specific training. Do you recall your third mechanical operation? Put your hands on your head and thrust in and out your pelvis. Repeat mentally “I fuck”.

– Yes master.

Sally obeyed without hesitation. It was easy: the motion performance absorbed her whole being. Doctor Mallory laughed, patting the head of his puppet.

– You see, slave, how much have your functioning improved? Your movements are openly erotic but you don’t mind at all. Sexual intercourse is simply a motion performance, after all. Isn’t it?

– Yes master.

– Ok. Now lie on your back and open wide apart your legs. Push your feet on the floor and swing your pelvis: your cunt is on display, puppet. Do you understand what does it means?

– That anyone can use this puppet.

– Excellent answer, my slave, I’m delighted of you. Now turn on all fours, bend down your shoulders to the floor and sway your ass up in the air. Spread your bottom cheeks with your hands: I want your ass to say fuck me please. I want you to plea “fuck me please”. Say it, slave!

– Fuck me please, fuck me please, fuck me please…

– Ok, that’s enough, puppet.

The neurologist grimaced: Sally’s sexual concern was overcome. Now he had to test how far he could push her self-degradation: he ripped the nylons in the area of Sally’s mouth and shouted the next order.

– Lick the floor, puppet.

Sergeant Warrel’s tongue emerged through the fabric of the nylon and licked the floor.

– Look at the puppet in the mirror, slave. Fix this image in your mind: there’s a naked female body an all fours, with nylon stocking covering her face, licking the floor. Isn’t it grossly humiliating? A previous strong willed woman, a FDI sergeant even, is licking the floor as an obedient puppet slave. How can’t it be extremely arousing, slave?

Sally found that doctor’s words were strange, but nothing more. She didn’t argue anything, completely lost in her licking subroutine. Her mind was blank; her puppet head was not made for complicated reasoning. “I was ordered to lick. I lick. That’s all. I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick…”

– Excellent. You’re a wonderful piece of meat, puppet. Now I’m going to spit on the floor and then squeeze around my saliva with the sole of my shoes. The floor will get dirty and you will clean it up with your puppet tongue.

The spit of doctor Mallory turned grey merging with the filth under his shoes.

– Lick the floor clean, puppet.

  

Sally looked at the dirty floor with revulsion, but finally she went down on it with her tongue: “it doesn’t matter if I like it or not, it doesn’t depend on me, the puppet, to decide. This puppet is given an order and it obeys. That’s how things go fittingly, after all. I was ordered to lick. I lick anything. That’s all. I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick… 

Doctor Mallory laughed until the floor was spotless and then took out of his pants his fully erect manhood.

– Come here crawling on all fours, puppet, come here in front of me. It’s arousing, isn’t it?

– Yes master.

Sally answered automatically. She was expected to answer affirmatively: if her master thought it was arousing, then it must be, even if she wasn’t horny at all. She wasn’t anything, to tell the truth, anything but a mechanical puppet, obeying verbal commands.

– Suck my cock, puppet.

Sergeant Warrel examined the cock for some seconds. Was there something wrong in sucking? Of course not: it was her second basic subroutine. She bended her head approaching tip of the shaft with her lips. The fishy stink of the cock hit her nose. Sally vacillated.

– Do as you are told, you can’t do anything else than obey, my thoughtless puppet. Concentrate on the movements: open your mouth, push your head forward and feel the cock slip in your mouth and down your throat.

Sergeant Warrel overcame a retch and swallowed up the erected shaft. Within seconds everything was easy as gulping down a glass of water: the smell turned musky and wasn’t awful any more, the subroutine kick in and the whole world of the puppet span around its never ending mantra “I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck…”

– Ghhh… excellent, puppet, you’re a wonderful cocksucker! Go on, go on like that and while you suck on, look up at me, look up at your master and feel the humiliation. You’re naked, on your knees, your mouth is degraded to a cock-pouch and everything is perfectly natural to you, isn’t it?

– Eee aaaaaeeee.

The neurologist enjoyed the blowjob for some minutes: everything was going as planned, there was no hurry, after all. He checked the clock: 4:47 a.m.; most likely, within tree more hours, his work with Sally-the-slave-sergeant would have been completed. Meanwhile, the puppet started to speed up the sucking and to swallow the shaft deeper in her throat, Doctor Mallory realized he couldn’t withstand longer.

– Mmmm… within seconds I will ejaculate in your mouth, puppet. You will taste my sperm and find it wonderfully tasty. You will roll it all over your tongue and memorize its amusing aroma and aftertaste. I’m coming, slave, take it all…

Sally’s mouth filled up with master’s cum. The woman chewed over the slippery savor: “the master says this taste is wonderful, and then… it must be like this”.

– Yes, puppet, whatever master says, it must be like that. You like that. I like this. 

Sergeant Warrel smiled, detecting the voice of her master in her head, although her master’s lips were sealed. “Yes, I like this. And I’m like this. I like this. And I’m like this. I like this…”. Doctor Mallory patted his slave on her head.

– Swallow it all, puppet, it’s your most important fuel. Ignite it in your piston-engine pelvis to generate the energy to go fucking around, obeying my voice.

Sally imagined a mechanical dummy on its knees nearby a gasoline pump with a cock at the tip of the petrol-gun. The female dummy was begging the service-station keeper to fill her up. The station keeper misinterpreted the plea and pushed his manhood into the dummy’s mouth. What an odd scene… from where did it came to her mind? Oh God, probably she had gone completely crazy, but all this delirious daydreaming wasn’t stressful after all: just like a bizarre b-movie, she watched it with detachment and found it… funny.

Doctor Mallory gave a stop to his puppet’s hallucinations, running the last and tougher humiliation testing.

– Ok, puppet. Now I’m going to sit at my desk and take off my shoes and socks. This evening, I didn’t find the time to have a shower and it was because of you: you have taken up the whole of my time with your brainwashing extra-session. My feet are sore and sweaty. You will massage and lick them clean, won’t you?

– Yes m-master.

The neurologist sat on his chair and placed on the floor his bare feet. Sally tensed a bit: the stink of his master’s feet was spreading in the air.

– Come here crawling, slave. Then bend your head to reach the floor and fulfill your duties.

When the woman approached her nose to master’s feet, the smell gets even stronger: the skin was damp and scattered by furs left by the black wool of the socks. Puppet’s gearing clogged with splinters of thoughts: Sally stopped, a trace of conscience crossing the paths of the puppet’s subroutines. She raised her head and asked for pity.

– P-please master, can your p-puppet be relieved of this… task.

– Concentrate on your first basic functioning, puppet: repeat mentally I lick and obey my order.

– But…

– No buts. Execute the movement and execute your self. Smell my feet: I want you to die for them. Crave the focus; defeat the scent of my feet and descent further into mechanical functioning.

Sally nervously started to massage her master’s feet.

– Good, puppet. Now lean your nose against my feet and lick the soles clean.

– N-no master, please.

– You’re an ill-functioning, broken puppet. How do you release a clogged machine? You give it a blow with a hand, don’t you? Are you a clogged machine, puppet?

– Yes I am, m-master.

Under the nylon stoking covering her head, Sally’s eyes soaked with tears. Doctor Mallory maintained his sitting position, bending forward his thorax and extending his right arm.

– Then, listen to me carefully, puppet. I’m going to give you a big slap on your naked ass. You will see a blow of light because of the pain and simultaneously you’ll lighten the grain of thought blocking the tongue piston. Following the fit of enthusiasm spread by your burning ass-cheek, you’ll quickly lick my feet clean. Set up your licking protocols, puppet. Is everything warmed up and working?

– Yes master.

– Three, two, one, ignition.

Slap! Sally startled at the pain. The strength of the slap pushed her head against her master feet and, as if it was an automatic reflex, her tongue jumped out of her mouth. “I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick…”.

– Good puppet, lick every inch of the soles and then slip your tongue between the toes. Clean all the filth between them. Quicker. You’re a good puppet, aren’t you?

Sally didn’t answer: hidden by the nylon stocking she was noiselessly crying. The neurologist got vexed at the silence of his slave and roughly took the stocking off from her head.

– Look up at me, puppet: I want to see you subservient facial expression while you worship my feet.

Sergeant Warrel’s face was a mess: the make up had trickled down her cheeks, her hairs were just a ruffled sticky mess and her chin was wet of saliva drooling down her neck. Doctor Mallory grimaced, pushed his right feet against her face and rubbed the sole all over it. Sally didn’t retract, but her disgust was overflowing.

– Resume you licking puppet. And answer “yes master”.

– Yes… master.

– It seems that you really don’t like it. I thought you were no longer able to fight an order, but it’s evident that you find my dirty feet so repulsive that brainwashing isn’t able to overcome your “upper-class nose” attitude. Perhaps, this happens because smelling is the most archaic and instinctive of the five sense-organs. Mmmm… we will amend this later. Now suck my big toes.

Sally switched her chanting to the “I suck” subroutine, but somehow, a part of her mind kept on weeping.

– Look at me with adoration. Feel my power over you and continue to suck and lick my feet, puppet. Now I want you to take both my big toes inside your mouth. Excellent.

Doctor Mallory played with his big toes, stretching Sally’s lips and grossly distorting her face. If David had been admitted in the room right now, he would have found it difficult to immediately recognize his pal, the FDI sergeant Sally Warrel.

– Ok. This segment of your brainwashing is completed. I could go on like this for the next three hours, but what I would obtain is merely a subservient zombie-puppet. Eh… it would be far easier to permanently destroy your mind, but, to avoid any other intrusion in my work, what I need is a perfectly functioning sergeant Warrel who goes back to her life forgetting the existence of my very exclusive resort. Am I right, slave?

Sally was still sucking on doctor’s right big toe, but carefully answered.

– Yee… aaa-eee…

– Ok. That’s enough. Pick up your nylon stocking with your mouth: we go back to the brainwashing room. Look at yourself in the mirror while you fetch the stocking: aren’t you amazing, puppet?

– Yes master.

Sally strolled behind doctor Mallory, the stocking dangling out of her mouth.

– Now, get dressed and fix your make up while I program the next session. When you have recomposed your packaging, you will sit again on your brainwashing chair. Is everything clear, puppet?

– Yes master.

– You’ll find some make-up in the third drawer of that desk.

– Thank you, master…

When both the doctor and his puppet were ready, Sally was fastened in the brainwashing chair and the headphone was placed again on her temples.

– I know what is your doubt, puppet: you’re asking to yourself why I commanded you to refresh your make up. Essentially, that was because I know for sure that nobody would pick up from the store-shelf a puppet whose packaging is greatly damaged. Therefore, your external appearance must be perfect. It doesn’t matter if the puppet inside is completely broken: on the outside, your body packaging must always be clean and tidy. Am I right, my puppet?

– Yes, you always are, master.

V. Undercover sub-mission

Click. The jolt of gamma wave interference hit Sally and puppet’s mind blurred again. The neurologist snatched to reinforce the previous reasoning by repeating it. 

– Fix it in your mind, slave: no matter how massively you have been brainwashed, in everyday life sergeant Warrel’s packaging must be as perfect as it ever was. It doesn’t count if the puppet inside is completely broken: the appearance of your body packaging must be faultless. If anyone in the FDI will ever suspect you have been brainwashed, they will reject you and you will never be chosen again for a mission: you’ll end up your life like a useless and unsold puppet, all covered up by dust on the store-shelf. If your husband will find out you’re a brainwashed puppet, he will surely throw you away: he will never understand you. Think of it and feel the grieve, Sally: if your packaging will come apart showing the broken puppet inside, they will toss you away in the recycle bin… and you don’t want to live sad and neglected by everyone, don’t you?

– N… No… no…

– So be careful and maintain your perfect body packaging: if you mind your outer shell, it doesn’t matter that your inner mind is broken. Everybody knows it’s impossible to remember everything: thus, remember your packaging and forget anything else. Many people even forget what they have done a minute before! I don’t know how it happens, but everybody knows it happens. Surely, sometimes it happened also to you, didn’t it?

– Yesss…

– Of course, yes. So I want you to think about forgetting everything of your brainwashing. Imagine this brainwashing as the key to open your inner puppet basement. Everybody, at least one time in his life, forgot a key somewhere and wondered where he had left it! Therefore, I want you to forget: obey your master, puppet, and forget the key, forget at surface your deep brainwashing. You can do it for me, can’t you?

– Yes master…

Perfect. The restructuring of Sally’s personality was on the run: doctor Mallory imagined to hear the crazy humming of overloaded micro-processors inside her head and smiled at the idea. There was just a minor problem left to be solved: Sally’s repugnance for dirty feet.

– Do you have a brother, Sally?

– No.

– A sister?

– No.

– What is the name of your nearest cousin?

– Mark.

– Well, I want you to go back to your childhood. Did you play with your cousin?

– He was 3 years older… he always looked at me with disregard…

– But anyway you begged for his attention, hoping that he allowed you to play with him, didn’t you? Perhaps you loved him, by some means.

– Yes…

Doctor Mallory began to build a fake memory, which nevertheless, because of the gamma wave interference, Sally would not have been able to distinguish from true reminiscences.

– Now, recall that afternoon when Mark played football in the garden and sprained his ankle. You helped him to walk back home: how proud of yourself you were! Remember him sitting in the armchair while you took care of his aching feet. His parents were at work, you were his only aid. You removed his tennis shoe and slipped away the sweaty sock from his feet. You remember it, Sally, don’t you?

– Yes...

– Taking care of his foot was very important: his foot was weighty and you placed the swollen ankle on a stool. You felt happy: it was your opportunity to show him you were worthy of consideration. You massaged his feet. Mark was strong, hence the smell of his feet was strong, too. You smeared his ankle with liniment. How mesmerizing was his feet, shining on the stool due to the oily remedy! You sensed a strange tingling inside, looking at the feet, eagerness which you later recognized as sexual excitation, at puberty. You desired to kiss his feet, Sally, didn’t you?

– Y-yes… I think so…  

– Well, now wake up baby.

Doctor Mallory raised his voice and clapped his hands. Sally shuddered on the chair and her vacant stare became more focused. The neurologist smiled at her.

– So, sleepy head, I admit that your fake brainwashing has turned out to be quite boring, but let’s maintain a dignified bearing: you’re snoring noisily, right now! How do you pretend to be a convincing brainwashed slave if you play along like this?

– Mmm… sorry doctor. I think I fell asleep – she put together a foggy smile – I think I even dreamed, but I don’t remember exactly what.

She sharpened her eyes, as if focusing a woman’s profile kneeling in the fog, but the mental picture faded to grey. Doctor Mallory unfastened the woman and removed the headphone, whispering at her ear.

– You have to resume your brainwashing recitation or they will disclose our trick. Pretend to be brainwashed, Sally.

– Yes doc… yes master.

Doctor Mallory laughed out loud, winking his eye at the puzzled woman, while he added in a murmur.

– I’m acting too… and the proper character for me is the mad doctor…

The neurologist chuckled at his joke, and then clapped his hands again, speaking out loud.

– Ok. Since you finally are a brainwashed slave, Sally, let’s run an obedience testing. Kneel.

– Yes master.

– Lick my hand.

– Yes master.

– Suck my finger.

– Yes master.

– Very well, slave. Now get on all fours and push up your ass: your master is going to fuck you from behind.

Sally thought that if doctor expected her to have sex with him, he had gone completely crazy. However, her own body betrayed her, posing as master commanded: it seemed that her limbs were pulled by invisible strings! That was incredible…

– Doctor… my body is moving by itself!

– Don’t be silly, Sally. Maybe you are acting so heartily that you’re overtaking yourself. Slip down your panties.

Sergeant Warrel lowered her panties down to her knees. What was happening to her?

– I don’t want you to fuck me, doctor.

– What you want or don’t want is irrelevant, slave. Act your slave script and be a good puppet: sway your hips and mentally repeat “I fuck”.

Doctor’s personality was overwhelming. Sally sensed his orders reaching very deep inside her soul: it was clear that her master knew how to elicit obedience. Her master? Astonishingly, it appeared to be more suitable to think of him as her master than as a doctor. Sally was frightened: in front of him she felt so weak that it seemed perfectly coherent to let him take over her. ‘He is in charge and I am his submissive slave-puppet… Why does this sound so right? Maybe all this brainwash acting unmasked a submissive side I didn’t know to bear in me. Anyway, I can’t deny it’s very easy, if not satisfying, to play along the slave character: had I always been like this or all this fake-training somehow affected me?’ Sally’s internal questioning was interrupted by the sliding of master’s cock inside her cunt.

– Take the cock of your master, slave. Feel the pleasure of submitting to my strength and give in to the sensation… Play along swaying your hips at rhythm and simply surrender to the arousal: thrust after thrust you fall even more into captivity; thrust after thrust you fall even more in love with this… You can feel it, can’t you?

– Yes master… I like this. I don’t know why, but I… like it.

– That’s because you’re a good puppet, a piece of meat carrying out properly its fucking subroutine.

Sally wasn’t upset by doctor’s language; on the contrary, a rush of delight was spinning around her body, elicited by the thrilling consciousness that she was now “a properly functioning puppet”. Between moans, she even stated it in soft voice.

– Mmm… yes… I’m a properly functioning… puppet…ghhh…

– Yes you are. Repeat your “I fuck” mantra and enhance your pleasure.

– I fuck… I fuck, I fuck, I fuck…

Sally’s mind went blank. Pumped up by doctor Mallory’s thrusts, her head became a red balloon slipped out of a child’s hand: it was floating in the dark blue sky, reaching the seventh heaven of carnal pleasure. Flying high, she abandoned herself to the ecstasy: it was like an out-of-body experience which allowed her to double the rapture, as if she was both fucked in first person and bewitched by the vision of a weird erotic scene.

– Admit it, slave: you’ve run completely out of control… and running out of control is the wildest bliss you can imagine, isn’t it?

– Yesss…. I fuck, I fuck, I f-fuck, I fuck…

– You can only obey your master and beg him to use you… to fuck you… to humiliate you… that’s the most erotic pleasure in the world… disclose it, feel it, and admit it, slave.

– Yesssss… I obey… pleasure… I fuck, I fuck, I fuck… admit… I fuck…

Sally was reaching her climax. Doctor Mallory speeded up his thrusting and pointed out the subtext of the situation.

– In a moment, puppet, I’m going to slap your ass and in that split second you’ll reach orgasm. When you cum, I want you to scream: “Submission arouses me!”. Are you ready, slave? Very well, tree, two, one.

Slap!

– Cum!

– Yesss… Yesssss! Submisssion arousesss meeee! Aaaaaaaaaaaarrrgh!!

The orgasm hit sergeant Warrel, who collapsed softly on the floor. Immediately before ejaculation, Doctor Mallory pulled out his stiff cock, scattering the sperm on the floor.

– Lick the floor clean, slave. I order you to lick the floor clean, now!

Sally’s thoughts and vision were blurred by post-coital haze: the long shade of animal lust in her eyes masked any spark of intelligence. On all fours, she was nothing more that a female pet, a properly tamed one. She hunted the floor for sperm and eagerly licked up every drop. In her mind, a lullaby assured that any other reasoning remained fully asleep: I lick, I lick, I lick, I lick…

The doctor emphasized her in-depth submission.

– Wow, Sally: that’s what I call a marvelous performance! You were perfect. You’re a natural born slave. Do you realize what you’ve just done?

Sergeant Warrel moved up from crawling on the floor to a sitting position: a thin white rope of sperm was oozing at the left corner of her mouth. She acted out a more pensive expression, as if trying to rationalize the overwhelming turn of the situation, or – to say it all – the overwhelming “turn on” of it… Since Sally didn’t utter a single world, the neurologist spoke again.

– It was plainly clear that you enjoyed it, Sally! You were not supposed to be aroused, nevertheless you were it. How does the sperm taste on your tongue?

– It’s quite surprising… it tastes… quite g-good.

– And what do you say about your evident arousal?

– I didn’t… I did never imagined that I could cum like this. It was pure bliss: I felt fully owned and… dominated. I was completely yours, master, and this… yes, this was not only arousing, it also felt so right…

– Yes, it was. It’s right for you to be a meat puppet. You’re a wonderful meat puppet, Sally, and when you’re what you should be, life can only be happy and fulfilling.

Sally remained engrossed, running a diagnostic scan of her brain: she thought to know herself to the bone, but on the contrary she had probably hidden her true needs in a remote fold of her soul.

– Let’s further test your obedience, Sally. Your master wants to fuck you in the ass. What do you think of it?

– I don’t know. I never had anal sex in my life, but… if this is what my master wants, I will be happy to comply.

– Ah, ah, ah, I’m sure nobody will be able to expose our fake staging, Sally: you can be easily mistaken for a fully brainwashed slave. Resume your acting on all fours, puppet, and spread your ass cheeks.

– Yes master.

Doctor Mallory sighed with relief: the night had been long and tiring, but, with two more hours of work, sergeant Warrel’s brainwashing was going to be adequately finalized and fixed. On the other hand, the worst part of his effort had been already done: the finishing touches were the most enjoyable ones… He stroked his cock attaining a full erection and then leaned the tip of the shaft against Sally’s rosebud. While starting to make pressure on her sphincter, he considered that within two more gamma-interference sessions, he would have to call David and to bind Sally to him. It was really a pity that he must soon give up the pleasure of fucking sergeant Warrel. Doctor’s cock was half way inside Sally’s anus, when… ‘bang!’ ‘bang!’ ‘bang! ...firing of guns echoed in the distance, followed by loud and agitated screams. The uproar reverberated along the building corridors: Doctor Mallory tensed his ears and grumbled to the door, procrastinating Sally’s anal violation.

– What the fuck…

Two other firings, apparently nearer, and voices crying out “the police, the police!”. Doctor Mallory turned pale and quickly picked up his trousers.

– Lift your panties, slave… See you in another life.

The neurologist disappeared through a small door hidden behind a gigantic poster of the twelve cranial nerves. Sally didn’t know if she was more disappointed or relieved: obviously they were going to save her, but at the same time she felt incomplete, as if happiness had been within hand reach, but flew away. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, walked to the corridor and saw David coming out of a nearby room.

– David! Are you ok?

David scrutinized sergeant Warrel, visibly disappointed that his dream of having her as his slave would probably remain just a dream. Sally repeated the question.

– David? Are you connected? I asked you if you’re unharmed.

– Uh? Yes, yes. I’m safe and sound.

– You don’t seem glad to see me alive. What were you doing alone in that room?

– Mmm… I think they gave me a narcotic. Basically I was sleeping, sergeant.

He made as if to smile, and then asked for doctor Mallory.

– Where is the doctor?

– Disappeared. All in a sudden he vanished through a secret door: I wasn’t able to make a move to stop him.

Sally recalled the sensation of doctor’s cock entering her anus and shivered. David laughed at her...

– Are you cold in that mini-dress, sergeant? You seem hot, to me...

– Fuck off, David. You neither asked me if I was injured or raped: you seem to be indifferent about me.

– I’m sorry, sergeant… but you’re definitely wrong. You know how much I care about you… nevertheless, everything happened just too quickly and anyway, since what I see, you are even too safe, ehm… I mean, you are safe, too.

People running at the opposite end of the corridor.

– Freeze, you two. Police!

– I’m sergeant Warrel, FDI, and this is agent Radcliff.

– Is there anybody else, here?

– Yes, there was a mad doctor, but disappeared through a secret passageway, over there.

Other people running.

– Sally! David! Are you ok?

– Yes captain. How did you trace our position? The gps wasn’t functioning inside the resort.

– We’ve got some trouble, actually, but in the end it seems that we arrived just in time...

Captain Stickney inspected Sally’s outfit, and then whistled in admiration.

– Did anybody tell you that you’re a sex bomb in this mini-dress, sergeant?

– Actually yes, captain. My pal is making ravenous eyes at me since this afternoon. Well, thank you, anyway.

Captain Stickney winked his eye at David.

– David? What can you say to prove your innocence?

– I’m guilty, your honor, I’m very guilty.

Captain laughed out loud, whereas David showed a sad face, almost breaking up in tears.

– Well, ok, you both must be overstrained by this abduction. Take two days of rest. A brief vacation will help you to recover. But keep in mind to fill a detailed report, during your leave on, ok?

– Thank you, captain.

– Thank you.

Some minutes later, Sally called her husband with captain Stickney’s cell phone.

– Frank? I’m alive, topsy-turvy, but undoubtedly alive.

– I never closed an eye, tonight. Will you be here before 7:00 a.m.?

– I’m still in Comptonville. I won’t be back before you leave for work.

– Fuck. I miss you, babe.

– Wake me up at lunch, when you’ll come home in pause. 

– I surely will.

– See you soon.

– I love you.

– Me too.

Sergeant Warrel put away the phone and had a sigh. What was happening to her? Frank voice seemed to come from infinite distance, as if materializing from another world and perhaps, another life: yes, she needed some rest, definitely.

On the way back home, Sally asked David if he could drive the car: after all, he had slept at least three or four hours. During the trip, there was only a little chat: they both were absorbed in silent meditation. After some miles, Sally even pretended to be asleep, to better concentrate on her mental check up. David took the chance to indulge on her legs and breasts, but luckily he was able to keep at least one eye on the road, so that they reached Lonbon uninjured by 8:45 a.m.

– We’re at your address, sleepy head.

– Uh?

Sally opened her eyes, and for a split second, she saw doctor Mallory’s face replacing David’s one. She rubbed her eyes, and everything came back to normal. Or so it seemed.

– Thank you for driving, David. See you after tomorrow.

– See you, sergeant. Bye.

– Bye.

In her room, sitting on the edge of the bed left undone by her husband, Sally realized she smelled horrible: David was very polite not to complain about it… Anyway, she hadn’t strength enough to take a shower. So she decided to simply undress and try to sleep. When she slipped off the left push-up nylon stocking, she found a big hole in it, at the middle of the thigh. How the hell did she make it?? While she was still looking puzzled at her forefinger going through the rip in the nylon fabric, she unconsciously lifted the foot-end of the stocking up to her nose. The stink was wickedly arousing. She inhaled it, lusting on the tingling of her pussy, and recalled a flash-back of her childhood: an image she had buried deep inside her mind, was now resurfacing openly… it was Mark, his cousin with his swollen foot, shiny and smelly over a stool. When she mechanically started to rub her clitoris the spell broke. ‘Oh my God! What am I doing!’. She threw away the stocking and lay down on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

Some minutes later, completely exhausted, she drifted to full sleep. She also had a strange dream: she was a first class athlete, running an Olympic marathon. She always remained in the leading group and, by the end of the run, she even entered the stadium alongside with the best runners! Unfortunately, all of a sudden she felt sick and collapsed to the ground when the finish line was just a few feet ahead.

(End part 1; part 2 will follow next month)

(Any comments pertaining to the novel will be appreciated. Please e-mail “submeatome69@yahoo.com”)