Amnesia

Title: Amnesia

Synopsis: An asexual school teacher is lured into a lab where she loses her identity and begins a new life.

Codes: F+/f+, D/s, slavery, bondage, Sci-Fi, mc, nc, humiliation, Serious

Author name and email:  Darkstorm darkstorm@alsirat.com

The students got off the bus and walked to the entrance of the zoo.  Mara Cohn counted them as they got off and counted them as they lined up in front of the gate.  The other two teachers leading the field trip made their own counts and compared notes.  Twenty nine.  Two by two except for one boy who followed at the back.  Mara kept a special eye on him because Tommy Sliver was a particularly vulnerable little boy.   If the other kids needed someone to bully, they chose Tommy.  If a child broke out in tears, it was likely to be Tommy.

She looked over his gray hoodie and sweat pants.  Little boys like Tommy seemed to come from horrid, dirty homes.  Look there, she thought to herself.  Look at the rip in the hoodies pocket.  Who loved this little boy?  Who looked after him?  She watched him carefully as Cheral Carpenter bought the tickets for the group and the trio of teachers began ushering their gifted charges through the turnstiles.  At the other end, Mara counted again.  Twenty nine.  All accounted for, even Tommy Slivers. 

“Where do we want to go first?” asked Cheral.

“The Pandas!” the class cried in unison.

“Which way do we want to go?”  Some cried by the gorillas and others by the tigers.  Cheral did her best to make out the majority.  Finally she declared that those who wanted the tigers won the shouting.

Mara looked around, checking for predators of a human kind.  There was a large, square headed man in greasy clothes watching the class from a fast food stand.  She didn't like the looks of him at all.  A ginger-haired woman in her late thirties or early forties hung off one of the twin statues of gorillas just inside the gate and stared directly at her.  Mara responded by pulling at her mid-length blue skirt and her pink-plaid shirt.  Of the two of them, she distrusted the man the most; the woman was just odd.

As the children began their march through the Monkey Jungle and down through the aviary, Mara kept watch on the double column's rear.  The man turned his head slowly to follow the movement of the school children.  The woman flashed her a smile and went out of the zoo gate.

Twenty nine.  Plus three teachers.  The numbers were good.  The children slowed their progress to the pandas by stopping repeatedly to look at colorful birds that waded and flew in the caged forest of the aviary.  When they reached the bottom, Mara instinctively counted the children.  Twenty nine.  Then she looked up through the aviary.  The square-headed man was near the top, coming down the stairs.  She hurried the children through the revolving doors and onto the trail that led by the tigers.

Should she tell the others?  They had their hands full with the children.  So she kept watch as best she could and minded the end of the line where Tommy Sliver did his best to stay with the crowd.

The square-headed man didn't appear while they looked at the four tigers – mother and father with two sons.  Mara breathed a sigh of relief and smoothed back her ear length raven hair.  One couldn't be too cautious, she soothed herself.  Maybe he had stopped to look at the fishing cat.  What mattered was he was no threat to the children, especially her most concerning charge, Tommy Slivers.

They wound their way through the forest, stopping to look at the okapi and the hippo.  After each stop, she counted the children – twenty nine little girls and boys.  The class loved the hippo with its tiered viewing area and its underwater view.  Everyone had to sit on the bronze hippo and get a selfie.  A couple dragged her into the shot.  When the class moved on to see the otters, she turned around.  The square-headed man was back, slicking his greasy hair.  He avoided her gaze and looked at the hippo.  Could it be coincidence?   Mara was unsure and kept counting the kids.

They climbed the hill that led past the whiskered Red River Hogs and into the panda exhibit.  Mara counted the children as Cheral and Maxine led them in.  Twenty nine. They were fortunate today.  There was no line and the children had the pandas all to themselves.  Mara drifted behind the backs of the children, seized with wonder at the sight of the bears that she had known only through storybooks and stuffed animals before moving to San Diego to teach, a year ago.  The pandas didn't do much that was exciting:  they chewed on bamboo and engaged in contemplation that mystified their visitors.  For a moment, Mara forgot about the children and her duties for the day:  she just joined the rest in enjoying the sight of the loans from China.

After several minutes, Maxine decided to call the class to move on.  The sun bears were ahead and they were a particular favorite of hers.  As the children filed out of the panda exhibit, Cheral counted them.  Twenty eight, she declared.

“Mara, is there anyone back there with you?”  Mara swung around.  The space was empty.  She rushed out front to make a count of her own:   Twenty eight!  Maxine took roll while Cheral counted again and Mara looked at the faces one by one.

“Tommy Silver is missing,”  Maxine announced.

Mara went back into the exhibit.  No sign of the boy.  When she rushed out the entrance, she looked up and down the hill.  The usual weekday couples and a few families.  But there – about a hundred yards ahead – the square-head was leading Tommy up the moving ramps.

“I see him!” she cried, running past the children and her fellow educators.  “Find Zoo Security!  Tell them that a child has been abducted!”

The man and his captive were at the top of the ramp, turning left onto another, similar ramp.  She ran as fast as she could, pushing people out of the way, people who sometimes pushed back.  When she reached the curve, she thought she saw them turn right up some stairs.  Her breath was failing her, so she stopped for a moment to catch it.  When she felt she had enough of her wind to continue, she followed them into a maze of bird cages filled with rare species. 

Where had they gone?  Mara made a guess – towards the gorillas.  But when she arrived, they were nowhere to be seen.

The gates were not far away.  From a distance of half a football field, she say them going past the gate.  The man handed the guard his identification and patted Tommy Silver on the head.  The boy looked back at her and grinned. Then they went out.

Oh no!  She ran up to the gate.  “You let him out,” she told the guards.

“Who?”

“The child abductor,” she said. 

The guards looked befuddled.  “The only people who went out were parents who could prove that they were with their own children.  Everyone else we held back,” said the leader.  “Are you one of the teachers?”

“Yes!”

“Maybe you can check out these people here,” he said with a sweep of his arm.  “They couldn't prove that these were their children.”  Mara briefly looked over the crowd of dark-skinned Latinos.

“No, I am telling you that he went out.”

“We didn't let anyone out who couldn't prove that he or she was the parent, lady,” the guard captain said.

Mara had enough of this.  She dashed past the checkpoint and began looking for the pair.  This guy was clever, she thought.  He must have been planning to abduct Tommy for a long time.  He had the identification, he knew where Tommy would be on this day, and he chose his moment for the snatch perfectly.  How could I have been so stupid, she thought, as she ran past the topiaries towards the parking lot. 

A quick survey did not turn up the pair among the cars.  Had he already driven away?  Was Tommy soon to be one of those milk-carton kids who were never seen again?  She panicked and ran back to the entrance.  Turning back to the parking lot she looked hard and saw the boy getting off the carousel next to the miniature train.

They had time to ride the carousel?  All that searching and she had not noticed that Tommy was going up and down on a wooden horse?  She shamed herself for her lack of diligence and ran after them.  They had a sizable lead as they walked past the museums.  How could she not catch up while they ambled so? 

When they came to the bridge, she thought she had a hope.  But a car knocked her down in front of the Museum of Man.  As she got up, she saw an asian woman behind the wheel.  There was no injury.  The car speeded off over the bridge before she could flag down the driver.  By this time, her quarry were at the far end of the bridge. 

She ran, pumping her legs as fast as she could manage.  When the man and the boy turned into a neighborhood, she despaired.  Had he hidden his car there?  Did he live among the houses.  But when she got to the turn, they were not far ahead at all.  She picked up her pace.  The man and the man paused in front of a large, two story Spanish colonial style house and then went up the walkway, disappearing into the door.  Just before they went inside, Tommy turned to wave to her.

The double door was made of solid oak and wrought iron.  She pounded on it as hard as she could.  “Let me in there, you bastard!”  Suddenly both doors open and two pairs of arms grabbed her and pulled her inside while a third person slammed the doors behind her.

Two women held her down on the tile floor.  The ginger-haired woman stood talking to the square-head man.  “Here's the five thousand dollars, Mr. Silver,”she said, handing him the money.  “And here is two hundred dollars for you, Tommy.”

“What do you say to the lady?” asked Mr. Silver.

“Thank you,; m'am.”

“You're a very good boy, Tommy.  And thank you, Mr. Silver.  We may have reason to do business again, I hope.”

The two left.  Mara squirmed on the floor, trying to free herself of the grip of the two women.  The ginger-haired woman laughed at her plight and squatted down to talk to her.

“All this time, you thought Tommy was the target.  In truth, Miss Cohn it was you.”

Her head reeled from the forced fall.  She tried to get up, but the two women had a firm grip on her.  One clamped a metal cuff around Mara's left wrist and then pulled it around to her back where she attached it to Mara's right wrist.

“Lift her up,” ordered the ginger-haired woman.  The other two women pulled Mara to her feet and held her arms while she sought to gain her balance.  She recognized the Asian woman holding her left arm from the car accident, but the brunette was new to her.

“Who are you?” she demanded of the ginger-haired woman.

“If I told you, you wouldn't remember,” said the ginger-haired woman.  “So there's no need for you to know it.”

“You hit me with your car,” Mara spat at the Asian.

“Not very hard, obviously,” said the Asian.  “Otherwise you would be dead.”

Mara started screaming.  The three women just laughed.  “You can scream as long and as loud as you want,” said the ginger.  “These walls are two feet thick and there are no windows, despite what you thought you saw outside.”

“You'll never get away with this!”

“Oh, but we have many times,” said the ginger.  “You are number 27.”

The captive's mouth dropped open. “You're going to kill me!”

“And what value would you be to us if we did?” said the ginger. She addressed herself to her two comrades.  “Let her go.  She needs to explore the house.”

The hands holding her arms released.  She stumbled forward.  The women held her up and let her steady herself.  “Careful there,” said the brunette.  “We don't want you hurting yourself.”  They let go of her again.  This time she was able to stand, then take a step forward.  Suddenly, she kicked off her shoes and ran to the front door.  She pushed against it, but it did not give.

“Locked, I am afraid,” said the ginger.  “Try the hallways.  Explore a bit.”

“Mara ran down the west hall, checking every open door.  When she found nothing but beds, she ran down the west hall where she found a stairway leading up.  The upstairs proved just as empty. 

The women followed her upstairs.  “You missed a door downstairs.  Would you like us to open it for you?”

The frightened raven-hair nodded slowly.  The Asian took her by the arm and helped her down the steps.  Behind the staircase, she showed her a door that she opened. “You haven't been down there yet, Mara,” said the Asian, nudging her slightly over the first step. 

Mara carefully stepped down.  The room she found herself in was well lighted and filled with scientific equipment, a fireplace, and an examination table.  A half-naked blonde woman sat on the floor, masturbating.  The smell of her aroused pussy filled the room.

Mara heard the door close upstairs and a bolt click.

“Well, here we are,” said the ginger.

Mara turned.  “You said that I was your target.”

“Yes, you were,” said the ginger.  “We have been watching you for a few weeks.  Our client liked your tall, skinny, frame and your bouncy little breasts.  We have been stalking you for a couple of months.

“We learned everything we could about you – where you worked, where you lived, where you liked to go when you had some time off.  We had a few spy cams around your house, so our client could see your finer aspects.  While we were checking you out, we noticed your neighbor, Harmony.  Nice breasts and hips on that girl. Pretty blonde hair.  We're thinking of bringing her in just for ourselves.

“But to continue your story, we learned a few things about you that helped us plan how we would take you.  The biggest thing that we realize is that you like to take things into your own hands when you feel that some helpless person is being threatened.  And we learned that you wouldn't give up – you wouldn't call the police, for example, until you were sure about the situation.

“Which is why it was so easy to catch you.  Tommy Silver was in your class --”

“Is,” spat Mara.

“Was.  That life is over.  But to go on, Tommy told his father about the field trip.  Mr. Silver has worked with us before, so he came right to us as soon as he knew where you would be today.  We arranged our usual.  Tommy and his dad played out their part of the story and you were hooked.  We just reeled you in.

The ginger walked forward and ran her hand down Mara's side. 

“Don't touch me!” Mara cried as she tried to run back up the stairs.  The ginger's assistants grabbed her and brought her back.

“Now, this part isn't that important, but I like to humiliate my captures, especially when they are as spunky and determined as you.  We can do this voluntarily or we can force it.  Your decision.

The raven-hair hung her head and murmured “OK, do what you will.”

“Let's get you undressed. First, remove your socks.  Just toss them on the floor over there.”

Mara did as she was told.  The floor was cold.

“Now, take off that awful blouse. I never liked plaid.”

The ginger came forward and ran her fingers along Mara's shoulders.

“How white you are.  I guess you never get much sun with that job of yours? That is how my client wants you.  Take off the bra.”

Mara began to whimper as she unfastened the clip in back and let the bra fall to the floor.

The ginger's hand touched her orbs, petting her gently as Mara shivered. 

“Come feel these, girls.”  The brunette and the Asian began feeling Mara's torso. 

“Very soft,” said the Asian.  “We couldn't keep her?”

“No,” said the ginger.  “We have received payment in advance and, believe me, it is substantial payment. 

“She doesn't shave her underarms,” said the brunette as she tickled there.

“And she has a love trail,” added the Asian.

“We will have quite a bit of work to do then,” said the ginger.  “Now remove the skirt.” Mara did as she was told.  Tears came to her eyes as the rape continued. The ginger ran her hands from Mara's cleavage to the waistband of Mara's panties. Mara began weeping openly.

“Poor little girl.  You never expected in a million years that this would happen to you, did you?” Mara shook her head.  “All naked except for--” The ginger inserted a finger into the waistband.

“Let's make a bet, girls.  Is she wet or not?”

“I'm not betting you on that one,” said the brunette.  “This one is a virgin.  They cream before they come every time.”

This was too much for Mara.  Her body would soon betray her.  She was liking this, liking it too much.  She wasn't a lesbian – more of an asexual – or so she had told herself for many years.  This lack of attraction helped make her a great teacher. A dribble of moisture worked its way down her leg as the three women appraised her. She liked their dreadful attentions.

“Let's see if the little girl has grown up yet,” said the ginger, pushing her hand into Mara's panties.  “Oh, is she wet!  She is a woman now for sure!  The client will be pleased.  Take off the panties.”

The panties fell to the floor.  “Oh, Clit,” said the ginger.  Pick up these clothes and throw them into the fire.”

“No!” cried Mara.  But Clit acted quickly, jumping up from the floor and grabbing all the clothes before consigning them to the flames.

“Too late,” said the ginger.

“She sure is a hairy one,” said the Asian, stroking Mara's bush with her fingers. Mara had never been touched down there by anyone except herself.  The Asian found Mara's slit and probed it until the lips parted and let her explore the interior.

Mara found her stomach rising up and down in rhythm with the Asian's ministrations. She leaned against the brunette, who grabbed her nipples and pulled.

“Never had an orgasm?”  Mara shook her head.  “Masturbated?” 

“No.”

“Then this will be a treat for you.”

“Mistress,” said Clit. “May I touch?”

“Yes, stroke her belly.  She likes that.”

Clit moved her hands up and down Mara's stomach.  The teacher's head fell back and she moaned as the threesome teased her to orgasm.  When she came, she collapsed.

“Was that good?” the ginger asked. 

“Yes, Mistress,” said Mara, in imitation of Clit.

“Oh, don't call me that.  Save it for your real owner.

“Now drop to your knees and raise your arms over your shoulders.  Very good.”

The ginger produced a pair of scissors and cut Mara's armpit hair as close as she could get to the skin.  Then the brunette brought forth a razor and some shaving cream.  Mara shook as the razor glided over her skin.

“Hold still,” said the ginger.

Mara froze.  While the brunette performed her task, Clit played with Mara's pubic hair.  The teasing shot through her entire body. 

“Wait, dear,” said the ginger.  “She's going to cum again.”

“The vaginal cream shot out of Mara's pussy as she convulsed from the pleasure. She moaned loudly and sought out Clit's fingers with her pubic mound.

“Well done, Clit,” said the ginger.  “She is going to make our client very happy indeed.”

The brunette finishing denuding Mara's armpits.  Then the Asian took the scissors and cut away the Mara's locks.

“Please!  Not this!” said Mara. 

“No,” said the ginger.  “We are going to deliver you as the client ordered.”

The Asian paused while Mara protested and resumed when the ginger calmed her again. She brought out a barber's cutter and cut Mara's hair to nub.  Then the brunette shaved her completely bald.

“There,” said the ginger.  “Let's see how pretty you look.”  The Asian held up a mirror.  Who was this woman, Mara asked herself.  Her head was smaller than she had ever realized and shaped differently.  She felt her naked dome in wonder. 

“The client is going to love her,” said the Asian.  Are you sure that we can't have her for ourselves?”

“She has a sister,” said the ginger.  “Up in San Francisco.  We can capture her and take her through the conversion.

“Is she as pretty?” asked the Asian.

“At least as much,” said the ginger.  “I will put her on the schedule for next month.  As a special gift to you for all your hard work.”

“What about me,” said the brunette.

“I was thinking of giving Harmony to you.  We've shared Clit for a long time and I think it is time that we each have our own.”

Mara was devastated at the thought that her sister would undergo this same ritual of humiliation.  Ann was just a year younger.  What kind of life had she led her sister into?

“Now up on the table with you,” said the ginger.  “Very good.” 

The three captors strapped Mara to the table and spread her legs. 

“Please, don't hurt Ann.”

“We're not going to hurt Ann, dear Mara,” said the ginger.  “We're going to make her into a pleasure child like you and Clit.

The brunette lathered up Mara's groin.  “Not there!  I'm not a little girl!”

“No, of course you are not a little girl,” said the brunette.  “You're about to be turned into a piece of property designed to fit the owner's specifications.  First we've done your armpits and then your head.  Now you can't have a love trail and a hairy pussy if those are clean.  Stay still while I do my work.  I don't want to cut you.”

Mara did not move.  She felt the blade remove the line of hair reaching to her navel and her pussy hair. When the brunette was done, she wiped the area clean and then removed any stray hairs she found on Mara's body.

“Don't you look perfect!” said the ginger.  “Let's give you a look.”  She pulled an overhead mirror into place and ran a finger down Mara's body.  Mara started to feel a gentle rush of orgasmic stimulation as she watched the ginger play with her.  Sex was something she had avoided, but now she found herself engulfed in it.  She so wanted to stay here with the four women, but another, wiser voice told her that she should escape at the first opportunity and end this operation.

“Oh, what to do now, dears.”  The brunette and the Asian began maneuvering the medical equipment around Mara's nude body.  “Yes, I think it is time.”  She gave Mara's left nipple a little flick and giggled.  “It's over now,” she said.  The life you had lived.  No more being a teacher.  No more being Mara Cohn.”

Mara felt a stabbing pain in her right arm.  “Hold very still for me, dear,” said the Asian.  “There now, it is all over.”

“OK,” said the ginger, “that completes the first stage.”  She pulled at Mara's clitoris hood and sneaked a finger underneath.  Mara suddenly found that she could think of nothing else. 

“That is so you awake feeling pleasure,” said the ginger, massaging the area.  Mara moaned in ecstasy.  When she escaped, she thought, she would go to the lesbian bars and find a dyke who knew how to do this.

“Hold her down, Clit.”  Clit took hold of her shoulders.  Mara wanted her to direct her attention to the hips.  Why not the hips?

“Now lean her head back and hold it, girls.”  The Asian grabbed either side of her head and tilted it.  Mara resisted the pressure, so the brunette affixed a head clamp.

“Very good,” said the ginger.  “Are we comfortable, Mara Cohn?”

“Not very,” said Mara.

The ginger affixed a device on either side of her head.  On some of the monitors, Mara saw her own brain in greenish-silver light. 

“What is happening?”

“It is time to say goodbye, Mara Cohn.  After this, you will never have been.”

Mara tried to struggle, but the straps held her firmly and the pulsating sensations coming from her cunt made it hard for her to think about escape.  One moment she was fighting, the next she was enjoying what they were doing to her.  And each moment, she spent more and more time cumming.

“Say goodbye, Clit.”

“Goodbye, Mara Cohn,” said Clit.

The ginger produced a long, needle-sharp probe.  As the girls and the clamp held Mara's head in place, the ginger inserted the probe up Mara's nose.  Just as it penetrated the back of her sinus and entered the brain, Mara felt excruciating pain coupled with an intense orgasm.  A red blackness flooded her consciousness.

“Goodbye, Mara Cohn, said the ginger.

The Woman woke up.  She had a headache, but she also felt pleasure coming from between her thighs.  Her shoulders and her hips were held down, so she bent her neck until she could look down the length of her body.  She was naked.  She liked the look of her body, so she giggled in delight.

A blonde woman appeared.  She was naked, too.  Was everyone going to be naked? She hoped so, because she liked nakedness.  The blonde woman ran her hand down the Woman's body. 

“Do you like that?”

The Woman nodded enthusiastically.  The space between her legs grew wet at the blonde woman's touch. 

“Don't stop,” The Woman begged.  The blonde giggled and teased The Woman's pussy and her nipples. The Woman arched her back as much as the straps would allow her. She wanted the blonde woman inside of her – what did that mean?  The words seemed strange, but the vision was pleasurable.  The blonde woman stuck her fingers in a spot between The Woman's legs and wiggled them until The Woman moaned loudly.

Footsteps.  The Woman turned her head to look at the source.  A ginger-haired woman in a white lab coat, carrying a clip board.

“How is our patient?” the ginger asked.

“She likes what I am doing to her,” said the blonde. 

“I am sure that she does Clit.  You are always so good to the girls.”

Clit blushed. She winked at The Woman and stepped aside so that the ginger could stand next to the examination table.

“I'd like to ask you some questions,” said the ginger.  “Do you think you can answer some questions?”

The Woman nodded.

“What is your name?”  The Woman opened her mouth, but she drew a blank.

“Do you have a name?”

“I don't think so,” said The Woman.

“Are you sure?” said the ginger. “Everyone has a name.”

“I don't know what mine is.”

“They must have forgotten to give you one,” said the ginger.  The Woman felt very sad.  If everyone had names, why didn't she?

“I would like to have one,” she said like a shy little girl.

“There's someone coming who will give you a name,” said the ginger.  “Would you like that?”

The Woman nodded her head enthusiastically. 

“Good.  Now for the next question.  Do you have a mother and a father?”

The Woman blushed.  Was this another one of those questions that would make her a freak.  She thought very hard for a moment, but decided to tell the truth.

“I don't think I have a father or a mother.”

“That's too bad,” said the ginger.  “But I'll tell you what: you can call me Mommy until the woman who is going to give you your name comes.  Is that OK?”

The Woman nodded once more.

“How about any brothers or sisters?”

The Woman shook her head.  As far as she knew, she was alone in the world.

“What is your job?”

“I don't have a job,” said the Woman.

“Well, we have a very nice one for you,” said the ginger.  “We are going to make you a slave.  Every day, you will do some work for your mistress, give her pleasure, and then she will play with you until you cum.  Does that sound nice?”

“I think I would like that,” said The Woman.

“Good,” said the ginger.  “You really aren't smart enough to do anything else.” She flicked one of the Woman's nipples.  “Has anyone ever done that to you before?”

“Clit has,” said the Woman.

“Anyone before Clit?”

“I don't know.”

Mommy wrote the answers on her clipboard.  She then took out a piece of paper and showed it to The Woman.

“Can you tell me what this is?”

The page was covered with black markings.  They seemed to be in rows, but she couldn't make out what they were supposed to be pictures of.

“I don't know what you are showing me.  It's confusing.”

Mommy put the paper back in the clipboard and set the writing surface aside.

“Let's move you over to this machine,” said Mommy.  “I want to run some more tests.

She wheeled the woman into a room with a large tunnel.  With the help of Clit, Mommy undid The Woman's straps and moved her onto another table. 

“Now, you are going to have to be very still while I run this test,” said Mommy. “If you are a good girl, I will let you play with Clit.”  Clit smiled at The Woman and The Woman smiled back.  They both looked forward to play.

Mommy put some headphones over The Woman's ears.  “This is to help with the noise and to teach you a little bit about being a slave.  Listen to the words and you will find it easy to be still.”

The two women pushed The Woman into the tunnel.  The Woman lay there waiting.  Then she heard the words through the headphone and the loud sound of the machine.

“A slave is the property of her mistress.  She lives to give her mistress pleasure and, in return, her mistress gives her pleasure.  The slave loves to cum more than anything else in the world.  She is naked because that gives her mistress pleasure and because it is easier to make her cum and deliver punishments.  Slaves do not like punishment because it hurts, but they accept it because they know that it shows that their mistress loves them and wants them to be good slaves.  A mistress may choose many different forms of punishment for their slaves.  They may spank them, whip them, tie them up, shave their hair off, drown them, or whatever gives them pleasure.  Sometimes slaves learn to love punishment and are naughty just to be spanked.  A wise mistress uses many kinds of punishment so that her slave does not get fond of any specific one.  A slave never goes to the bathroom without the mistress's permission.  She eats directly from the bowl because she is only a slave.  She never hits the other slaves unless she has been told to do so by her mistress.  She takes her punishment and her rewards in silence.  She obeys her mistress's every command.”

The voice repeated itself several times before the roar of the machine stopped and Mommy took her out of the tunnel.

“Have you ever seen yourself?” asked Mommy.

The Woman shook her head.

Mommy took her back into the first room.  She brought The Woman before a piece of hanging cloth, then took the cloth down, revealing a mirror.

The Woman stared at herself. She was tall and had pale skin.  Unlike Clit, she had no hair anywhere on her body.  Mommy reached around her to touch her breasts and bounce them up and down.  The Woman giggled.  Mommy then ran her hand over the Woman's stomach towards her naked pussy.  Mommy found a fold of skin which she raised with a finger.  She turned the finger around under the fold, stroking a tiny nub inside.

“You may moan if you wish,” said Mommy.  The Woman let out a low howl.  Sweat beaded up from her skin.  Goose pimples appeared.  She leaned back into Mommy's arms. 

Mommy let her cum and stood her up again so that she could see herself.

“Am I pretty, Mommy?”

“Do you think you are pretty?”

“I think so, Mommy.”

“And I think so, too.  You are one of the prettiest that Mommy has ever made.”

“So where is Mara, Maggie” asked the Asian woman.

“She's playing with Clit, Yumiko,” said the ginger. “Be careful about mentioning her old name.  I know we have never had one recover her memory, but let's be careful that this isn't the first time.”

“So we were successful?”

“Aren't we always?”

Yumiko sat down in one of the living room chairs.  She brushed her black hair out of her eyes. 

“Did you mean it when you told me that I could have her sister?”

“Absolutely,” Maggie replied.  “We've watched it be done to so many people that it is only fair that we get to take one for ourselves now and then.  We're watching Harmony.  Since she likes early morning runs, we can catch her in the park. As for Ana, I have a couple of lesbians watching her.  They think that she can be taken when she works late at the library.  Then we just pack her up in a crate and drive her down here.”

“Rose will like it when we bring Harmony here.”

“That she will.  I am thinking of getting a young one for myself.  Clit can make sure that they remain aroused at all times.  You know how Clit likes to play with the new girls.”

“Yes, I do.  When do we start stage two?”

“After Clit brings our girl to a few more climaxes, you will bring her back to the examination table and inject her with the aphrodisiac.  When she is about to cum, you'll dose her with the anaphrodisiac and tell Clit to keep playing with her.  The frustration will be intense.  She will masturbate incessantly but never have an orgasm. We'll keep her on the doses until just before her owner arrives.  Then we will neutralize the anaphrodisiac and watch her come like a tornado.  She will, naturally, associate it with the attentions of her owner and be permanently bonded.”

“I love watching that happen,” said Yumiko.  “I get a little wet myself when it happens.”

“Yes,” said Maggie.  “It is a beautiful thing to watch.”

April Sundowner knocked at the door of the white Spanish colonial.  The fiftyish, slender and small-breasted heiress held her hands in front of her crotch, a position which neatly hid her true lustful urges.  The door opened and Rose greeted her. 

“How are you, Rose?” asked Sundowner.

“I am doing fine,” said Rose.  “The acquisition and conversion both went well.”

“Delightful,” said Sundowner.  “I would like to look at my pet as soon as possible.”

“That will be no problem after you have spoken to Dr. Grier.  Maggie has a few things to tell you about your new pet.”

“That will be fine.”

“If you will come with me?”

Rose led Sundowner into a well-apportioned office with dark mahogany furnitute and a couple of old paintings.  April took a seat and looked at an painting of some slave girls in ancient Rome.  “Most appropriate,” she thought to herself.

Maggie arrived a minute or two later.  She sat behind the large desk and opened a clinical folder.

“Now,” she began, “here is a summary of the procedures that we performed on your pet.  She is numbered until you give her a name.”

“She doesn't remember that?”

“Not in the slightest.  We have tested and retested her memory.  The key details of her past are no longer known to her.  We strongly advise you to keep those private, though we have a summary of her pre-conversion history here.

“For the last week, while we were completing our tests, we have put her under the influence of an anaphrodisiac.  This prevents her from obtaining sexual release even though we have also given her an aphrodisiac.  The frustration, as you might imagine, has been insufferable.  She has masturbated all day to no effect.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Half an hour ago, we gave her a antidote for the anaphrodisiac.  In  few minutes, you will go down into the lab where we have been keeping her and masturbate her.  She will have the orgasm of her life and she will associate it with you.  Then you can give her a name which she wants almost as much as an orgasm.  She will be entirely yours.”

“I see,” said April, steepling her hands.  “You have this all worked out.”

“We have performed over two hundred of these procedures, almost one a week.  We have captured slaves and harem girls this way.  We have made wives more submissive and, on a few occasions, we have wiped the minds of men for owners and wives.  We have never had a single one of our captures recover her memory.  This has been the case since our first – who is still alive – nine years ago.”

“How did you get started?”

“My associates and I are neuroscientists.  We were searching for a way to reverse amnesia.  What we found, first, however, was a way to induce it.  Three of us thought we might use it to cure PTSD in a patient or use it in a punitive way to make sociopathic criminals more tractable. 

“The first use was, as we thought about it, problematic:  who wanted to wipe the personality of a person who they wanted to save emotionally?  So we dropped that line of research.  The second was much more promising, but our fourth research fellow, Dr. Chastity Blue, was against it.

“Dr. Rose Hamilton was the one who came up with the idea of creating an underground market for submissives.

“You may well be aware of some of the problems facing owners of slaves.  First, they have pasts of which they are not willing to let go.  Second, they may have personality flaws such as independence of spirit which are difficult to untrain. It has long been known that women in particular can be controlled through their lusts and orgasms, but many people will not let themselves be put into a position where they are so controlled.  Finally, almost everyone is trained to think of themselves as free to make their own decisions.

“We offer a solution.  By probing certain areas of the brain and directly delivering electro-shocks, we erase key parts of the memory.  The slave loses all knowledge of her identity, education, etc.  We begin sexual stimulation immediately, then make it impossible for her to achieve orgasm.  When we release her to her owner, the chemical chastity belt is released and she is willing to do a she is asked.

“Our first subject was Dr. Blue, who would have turned us in.  We stripped her, tied her down, and began sexual stimulation as we performed the neuro-surgery. When we were done, she was the perfect compliant.  She has no memory of her life as a distinguished Ph.d.  Now she spends her free time masturbating.  We call her Clit....”

“Outstanding.  If I brought in one of my slaves who I had captured before...”

“We could perform the conversion on her and have her back to you inside of a week.”

“Interesting.”

“You know that our slaves bring the highest prices.  We have changed the market forever.  Our competitors want to know how we do it.  The best they can do is send their slaves to us for the treatment.”

“May I see my slave now?”

“Of course.”

Maggie led April down the hall into a bedroom.  Clit was laying on a bed, playing with herself while The Woman sat against the wall, desperately trying to bring herself to orgasm.  She looked up into April's eyes. 

April sat next to her.  “What's the matter, Darling?” 

“I can't come,” cried The Woman. 

“She's been trying for days,” said Clit.  I've sucked her, pulled her nipples, tickled her – she just can't do it.

“Let me try,” said April.  She ran her red fingernails along The Woman's body, then played with her tits a little.  April brought her hand down The Woman's stomach and felt her pussy.  “Someone's a little wet.”

“Please, please,” said The Woman.  “Please don't stop!”  April kept playing with The Woman's clit.  “I like it that you have no hair,” she said.  “I am going to keep you like this so I can play with you any time.”

“Yes, yes.  Please keep me like this!  Don't stop!”

April's pace increased as the anaphrodisiac wore off.  The Woman chased April's hand with her pubis mons, matching her rhythm with her panting.  The Woman screamed at the top of her lungs as the orgasm split her in two, like a lightning bolt cleaving a boulder.  She shook magnificently and, when it was over, held April close.

“I shall call you Windy,” April pronounced.  “For you are a little storm.”

The two of them made love for the rest of the afternoon.  Windy was happy and she put up no fight when she was locked into a crate for the long ride to Colorado.