“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”)

Title: “Going under cover (part 2)”.

Author: Submeat!

Tags: (mc, mf, md, ma, ft)

Synopses: FDI sergeant Sally Warrel and her pal, agent David Radcliff, went undercover to infiltrate a sinister resort in Comptonville rumored to be running a slave trade.

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! Few rights reserved (this work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 License).

VI. A twisted mind or something of the kind

The bell rang and Sally went to open the door of her apartment: a jointed dummy was standing on the threshold. Its body structure was unquestionably female (large breasts, thin waist and round ass), but its head was replaced by a written sheet of paper, A4 format. Although puzzled, the woman let it in, stretching her neck to get closer enough to read the sheet.

– Who… what do you are?

The dummy didn’t answer. Sally hallucinated its smile, depicted by a slight arching in the written lines.

– Can I read?

Silence. Well… since ‘silence gives consent’, the woman began to read. The story was badly written, perhaps because of some kind of Russian or Chinese to English translation program, and lacked of any quotation marks. Sally felt more nervous than irritated and when she came across her name printed onto the page, she screamed.

– Aaaarh! W-why? What??

Again no answer. Sally stopped her crying and looked through the written lines to uncover the meaning which might be hidden behind them. The story itself didn’t worth the read: it was the stereotypical plot in which a secret agent was brainwashed by an evil doctor and frankly many other stories just did a better job about it. So what? Why was it so scaring? All of a sudden the dummy spoke.

– Hello me.

Sally squeezed her head with trembling hands.

– Oh my God… ok: it seems I went totally crazy.

– I don’t think so.

– What do you think?

– Basically we’ve just realized to be one.

– No… this can’t be real: you d-don’t exist!

– Actually, we both do not exist. We’re just the same character in a novel.

– No… no… this can’t be!

– Look: can you please turn over the page? Do it and you’ll see the void under your feet.

The dummy presented its paper head to Sally who, after a brief wavering, stretched out her right arm and grabbed the free edge of the sheet, turning it roughly. In the very same moment, everything went upside down and the woman fell off the bed.

  

– Ouchhh!

Sally opened her eyes: it was 11:37 am. Her husband won’t be back before 13:00. She decided to take a shower and wash away her nightmares. In the bathroom, the mirror looked back at her with commiseration and tried to smile, but the lips clogged up in the movement. She sighed out the grief and take off her light pink nightgown. When she finally got naked in front of the mirror, Sally stared lingering at herself and stood completely still. What was the matter with her? She felt unable to bring her thoughts together and enter into the shower-box. ‘It seems… it seems as if I’m waiting for an order.’ She shivered and only by a great effort of will she succeeded to move ahead. 

The shower restored her confidence, so she decided to point out in more detail what had happened last night. She picked up the phone and called David.

– David?

– Mmmm…

– Wake up, boy. I think we have to carefully double check what happened to us last night in the resort. My mind is all muddled up.

David alertness was triggered by the last sentence, therefore he asked quite interested.

– What do you mean?

– I… I’m afraid doctor Mallory achieved some results with his awful machine.

– Don’t be silly, Sally! That’s nonsense, isn’t it?

– W-what?

– I said, don’t be silly.

– Do you know what? Right now… and many other times this morning, too, I’m having flashbacks. My mind is playing tricks on me. I know I wasn’t brainwashed, but I know myself too…. and it’s plain clear that simply I’m not me. I sense it… and that’s a fact.

– After our rescue, you didn’t seem any brainwashed slave to me.

– This is somewhat comforting, but…

– Within two days, probably, everything’s gonna be all right.

– I don’t know. I’m worried. I’m very worried. Can we meet up this afternoon?

David sensed the frailty in Sally’s voice and decided to run a test that could easily pass as a joke.

– Oh, shut up, sergeant. Ah, ah, I don’t think you would obey if I shout something like “On your knees, slave!”

Silence at the other end of the line. David’s laughing vanished and his voice asked for reassurance.

– Sally? Is everything ok? Sally?

– Y-yes… sorry. Just a vertigo... feel better now.

In the dim light of the living room, the silhouette of a kneeling woman holding a receiver was on display. Although sergeant Warrel was horror-struck, she managed to resume a poised talking.

– It… it was just a passing dizziness, but I’m ok, now. You know, I’m quite worn-out and… and I wasn’t able to sleep as much as I need.

– On the contrary, I would have been able to, but someone woke me up…

– I’m sorry, David. I think it’s better if I don’t bother you any more. See you on Friday.

The man took heart and argued against the unexpected change in program.

– And our meeting? You called me up to double check what happened, don’t’ you?

– Yes, but… but now I think that it’s better if…

– No buts. With all this brainwashing delirium you make me anxious and now I want to see you and be reassured.

Suddenly, Sally realized that she didn’t like at all the idea of someone seeing her (neither now, down on her knees, nor later): she realized that in her actual condition, it was far safer for her to stay alone and wait for improvements to come.

– Listen, David, I’m sorry but…

– Let’s meet up in my apartment at half past three in the afternoon: I don’t take no for answer. Be on time, as usual.

Sergeant Sally sighed: she couldn’t find the willpower to fight against David’s firm insistence.

– Ok. See you this afternoon. Bye.

– Bye.

When the line went dead, Sally was still kneeling: even if her mind seemed to refuse the evidence, she was the living proof of her brainwashing. She let the tears fall off in silence… Why was it so difficult to put the finger on it? Every neuron in her head appeared to disagree, screaming that she must forget everything about her brainwashing. ‘About… what?’ she asked to herself. ‘About my washing to do, silly me.’ Nevertheless, how could she possibly deny that it was very strange for a strong and clever woman like her to be kneeling on the floor? She resolved to maintain her position to let the awareness of the brainwashing sink in…. but how could she fight against something which didn’t exist?

Ultimately, she rose to her feet, went back to the bathroom and picked up her dirty clothes from the basket: she had to do the washing, hadn’t she? 

At the same time, David jumped back to his bed, indulging in the erotic fantasy of having sergeant Warrel as his personal slave. He stroked his cock and imagined Sally on her knees, giving him a blowjob. Few minutes later, he ejaculated in the mouth of his dream.        

Approaching midday, Sally went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. When her husband arrived, the house smelled of browned onions. Frank embraced her wife lovingly, checking her eyes to see if everything was ok.

– I hoped you were sleeping, so I didn’t call you in the morning.

– Thank you, love.

Sally felt immediately better: the scent of her man’s cologne mixed up with the familiar aroma of the sauce on cooking, blew away all the ghosts; in a moment, domestic routine wrapped her up gently, enhancing her self-confidence. Frank asked without delay about her health.

– Are you harmed in any way?

– I don’t think so. Perhaps I’m a bit over-reacting to last nerve-racking night, but now that you’re here, all my worries are fading away… just like a bad dream.

She smiled and kissed him on the lips, and then invited him to sit at the table for lunch. Although Frank was not completely satisfied by Sally’s words, they both took a seat.

– Are you sure that everything’s ok? I know that usually you don’t want to talk about your work, but if I can be of help to lighten the burden, I’m here.

– Thank you love, but the only thing I want is to forget everything about my work, now. It’s just me and you…

She stretched her right arm along the table and grabbed his hand, interweaving the fingers. Frank decided to tell her all the truth. 

– I want you to know that captain Stickney phoned me this morning and recommended me to report directly to him any strangeness about your behavior. He told me to keep the secret and don’t tell anything to you.

– Wow… this makes me feel as if suspected of murder. Funny, isn’t it?

– Sally, please… tell me what happened last night: I want to share your ache.

– Stop it Frank: I thought I was clear enough. Nothing happened and, consequently, nothing can be shared, ok?

The man caught a hint of fear in Sally’s eyes, but resolved it was better not to go too far.

– Ok… don’t get angry, love.

Sally was overcome with anxiety again. ‘If anyone in the FDI will ever suspect I was… I was… well, that I was what I can’t remember, they will surely strike me off the division! I will end up my life like an unsold puppet, all covered up by dust on the store-shelf… Oh my God… where does this absurd mental picture come from?’ She poured a glass of water with trembling hands. Frank asked what the problem was.

– Sally… you seem frightened, all of a sudden. Are you hiding something to me? We never had any secret for each other. Whatever happened to you, I’ll empathize with you. You know that you can trust me, love…

Yes, she can, but in the same time she saw the mental picture of herself, tossed away in the recycle bin and neglected by everyone. The train of her thoughts derailed again. ‘If Frank will find out I’m what I can’t remember to be, he will surely throw me away… and I can’t lose him! I love him…’

Frank caressed his wife’s hand and then they both began to eat. Later, the man tried to take up the thread of what they were saying.

– So… what this silence means?

– Nothing. Nothing at all. Please Frank, can we speak of other things? Any news about your work?

– Yes, I sold a large lot to an Arabian buyer: this year the production bonus is guaranteed.

– Fantastic. Do you want some fruit?

– An apple, please. But you’ve eaten almost nothing…

– Don’t worry: I want to keep my figure. The forties are behind the corner.

Sally smiled. Frank deduced that it was wiser to go along with harmless jokes.

– Well, it seems to me that you’re like a bottle of fine wine: you’re getting better with aging. Time is *fortyfying* you.

– Thank you, love.

They continued to chat relaxingly in the kitchen; then Frank moved to the living room and sat outstretched on the divan.

– I’ve got half an hour left, before going back to work.

– What about some loving on the couch?

– No headlong rush, babe: tonight will be all ours! Be patient… for now it’s good enough to nestle and indulge ourselves. Please, lay next to me.

– Glad to oblige.

They rested in the warmth of their embraced bodies. After some minutes, Frank took off his shoes and placed his feet on the wooden stool nearby the couch. Sally’s attention gradually shifted to his husband’s feet: she couldn’t take away her stare from the black socks. She tried to rationalize that, obviously, it wasn’t the first time she saw Frank’s feet: so why she had never previously realized how much she was aroused by them? The more she tried to substantiate the non-sense of her passion, the more she felt hot. Frank detected Sally’s tension, and asked for explanation.

– What’s the matter now? You seem aroused. 

– Well I’m entangled with your body: why shouldn’t I be it?

Frank looked carefully at Sally, somewhat puzzled: there wasn’t any doubt about the fact that she was horny.

– Do you want me to fondle your pussy?

– Not really... I mean, yes, but isn’t it more appropriate for me to take care of you? You must be tired since you worked all morning, while I slept lazily along. What about a relaxing massage to your feet?

– Uh? Well, why not.

Sally knelt by the stool and started to massage Frank’s feet. She bended her head, nearing her nose and inhaled deeply: the stink hit so greatly in her brain that she moaned loudly. Within few seconds, Sally wasn’t able to control herself any more: she eagerly slipped off a sock to kiss and lick the naked foot. Frank lingered open-mouthed for a second, and then reacted jumping off the couch.

– What the hell are you doing, Sally? Have you gone crazy?

Sally was panting on her knees, visibly flushed, her forehead covered by small beads of sweat. The vacant stare resembled the one of a sleepwalker rudely awaken by a slap on the face. Frank went on, rather irritated.

– That was not only gross, that really was disgusting, to say it all! If that was a joke it wasn’t funny, Sally.

– I’m sorry, I really don’t know what happened to me…

Frank shivered: possibly, Sally’s odd behavior was a consequence of her last mission! Did they mess up with her brain? Should he notify Sally’s behavior to captain Stickney? While her husband was reasoning by himself, Sally regained some self-control and sat down on the couch. Frank sat down next to her, and spoke with gentler voice.

– I’m sorry, too, love. I should ease your grief, instead of getting angry with you.

– Please, Frank: don’t report this sick incident to the captain.  

– But…

– I’m ashamed. Think of how it will sound: ‘dear captain I have to inform you that my wife Sally tried to lick my feet’… please, Frank: don’t do it to me.

– Ok, ok. But we will talk of it, tonight.

– Can’t we just forget it?

– No, we can’t. I will call you in the afternoon to be sure that everything is ok. I have to go, now.

And with a troubled expression on his face, Frank kissed her wife goodbye. As for her, Sally felt a bit more clear-headed: the outburst of his husband had helpfully shaken her. She decided that it was safer for her not to meet David in the afternoon: she was going to wait quietly for her husband to come back, carrying out relaxing domestic duties and reflecting on the meaning of the recent events. Gradually, she pacified the struggling in her mind: she was able to admit the idea that doctor Mallory had done something to her by naming it in another way. Specifically, since her mind didn’t allow her to use the word “brainwash”, she came to terms with it by labeling the process with another word: she had been *twisted*. In fact, when she imagined herself as a straight person before yesterday and a twisted one after doctor Mallory’s work, her mind didn’t storm against that piece of evidence. With her mind taking sides with her, she went on analyzing her resurfacing foot fetish. How can she explain that? The remembrance of her cousin Mark and his sprained ankle dated back to her childhood, but she didn’t felt any specific attraction to feet until yesterday. Strange coincidence, wasn’t it? Probably, the “twisting” unleashed some disturbing memories dating back to her late childhood which her conscious mind had set aside…

Sally gained self-confidence: her auto-psychoanalysis was promising. Hopingly, within a few days, she would have been able to fix the “twisting” or to minimize its effects. 

It was a quarter to four when the phone rang.

– Hello?

– David’s speaking. Hey… why are you at home yet, sergeant? I’m here waiting for you.

– I’m sorry, David. I went to bed after lunch – she lied – and fall asleep. I’ve just waken up.

– Well, let’s delay our meeting to half past four.

– No, David, I’m sorry. I’m still very tired and I do prefer to stay at home.

David quickly recalled the proverb that says to strike the iron while it’s hot… and the daydream of having Sally as his slave was very hot, indeed.

– Ok: no problem. But you worried me this morning, so ‘if Mohammed won’t go to the mountain, bring the mountain to Mohammed’: I will be there within half an hour.

– No wait, David, I…

Sally’s answer was cut short by the going dead of the line. She had a sigh: she knew that David cared very much about her, nevertheless she felt too weak to face a brainstorm regarding last night events. Perhaps, she could ask him to talk of other topics and relax, pushing aside every problem about their last mission. ‘I will explain to him I realized that my open wounds need some days to cicatrize. Time is a great healer and everything will end up peacefully’.

David rang the door-bell half an hour later, with a red rose in his hands.

– Hello, sergeant.

He handed her the rose and smiled. Sally was pleasurably surprised.

– Why, thank you, David! You’re always so kind to me. Come in, you’re welcome.

Sally considered that, after all, David’s visit could probably help her to take off her mind and pass away the afternoon: her previous worries were largely unjustified. She escorted her pal to the living-room. David looked around and asked.

– Are you alone? I mean, why didn’t your husband attend sick parade and stay at home with you? Didn’t he realize your need of help?

– He’s having a very hard time with work: his co-worker at the order department has already been fired. 

– I see… well, at least, I’m here with you, sergeant.

They idly chat a bit, about captain Stickney new haircut and about new music releases. After a while, David hesitated no longer, approaching the hart of the problem.

– It seems to me, sergeant, that you’re purposely avoiding to face the last mission issue. Wasn’t it the main item on the agenda?

– Yes it was, but… I’m not ready to handle my mental confusion, yet: I need some days to recover and then I will be able to analyze the facts with more objectivity. I was also thinking to ask captain Stickney for a week of leave.

– I beg to differ, sergeant. This is just a mean attempt to flee your enemy.

– Maybe it is, but the problem is I’m not strong enough to win this fight right now.

– Mmmm… there’s no mistake: you’re either scared to death or brainwashed: the sergeant Warrel I knew would never have surrendered without a fight.

– I’m neither brainwashed nor giving up, David. Let’s say I’m convalescent, ok? Please, can’t we speak of something else?

­– No we can’t. And, of course, it’s for your own good: a large and open wound will surely get purulent if you don’t suture it promptly. Now… you said you’re not brainwashed: how can you prove it?

Sally shivered. The situation was slipping out of hand and she was terrified that, accepting the challenge now and openly, very awkward things could happen. Suddenly, the awful image of herself kneeling by the phone came to her mind. On the other hand, after five years of work as one, she felt she could trust David almost as much as Frank. Moreover, facing the problem together with his pal might be a useful way to contain it inside the working ambit: she was sure that Frank couldn’t understand her situation and she didn’t want to risk undermining their marriage.

David cut short Sally’s mental struggling.

– So, what does this silence means?

– Ok, David. We have passed through this nightmare together, so if there’s someone who can empathize with me that’s you. I thought it might be safer to wait for some days, but you’re right: the more you wait, the more an open wound will get infected.

– That’s the real you that I knew! So let’s go back to the essence of the question: you said you’re not brainwashed… are you sure of it?

Sally took a big sigh of grief, and then answered looking down at the floor.

– I’m not brainwashed: I’m twisted.

– What… what do you mean by “twisted”, Sally?

Sally’s eyes get wet.

– Actually, I don’t know if the meaning can or can’t be the same, but I’m not allowed to think or phrase it as you’ve just done. I know it’s strange but somehow I’m sure I wasn’t brainwashed: I was twisted…

David sensed his cock stirring in his pants. Perhaps doctor Mallory didn’t have time enough to complete his work, but nevertheless he did achieve interesting results…

–  I see… So doctor Mallory actually brainwashed you, but also set up a mental block to try to prevent your conscious knowledge of it.

–  N-no… you’re wrong: I wasn’t brainwashed.

Against her will, Sally’s words denied the evidence, although the anguish in her eyes said something very different. She really hoped that David would have been able to interpret the real meaning of the entire ‘twisted’ thing and help her. Well, by all means David’s understood it plainly.

– Ok. It’s self evident that something very serious happened to you last night. Have you got any idea of how I can help you?

– I don’t know, David.

David thought that, on the contrary, he had some good ideas, although the goal to achieve was perhaps *slightly* different from the one expected by sergeant Warrel… A masked smile tickled the lips of the man. Sally didn’t like the shady silence of David, so she stated her point of view in more details.

– I mean, I don’t know what you can do, but I know for sure that it’s much better if our conversation remains strictly confidential: please, David, don’t tell anybody about the ‘twisting’.

– Don’t worry, I’ll keep the secret… but we have to check how much you’ve been twisted.

– There’s nothing to check: I can assure you that I’ve been strictly twisted all over.

– That’s very alarming… I know you’re a strong woman, but even an iron-wire can be broken by twisting it.

– Well, I’m not broken, David, can’t you see it?

Waving her slender but curvaceous body, Sally laughed at him, mimicking a judo-move and then, in order to play down the situation and to reassure David, resumed speaking.

– It’s self-evident that, although doctor Mallory tried to twist me off, I was flexible enough to withstand his vice-like grip.

– Self-evident? Mmmm… do you remember when in my first missions I had the bad habit to make lots of speculative interpretations? What did you always tell me?

– ‘No more self-evidence: get the proofs!’ But…

– No buts. You were right… and the same line of reasoning is appropriate about your current psychological conditions.

David smiled and Sally found his countenance disturbing, if not sinister. Although she felt more vulnerable than usual, she didn’t like his patronizing matters. She puffed out with coldness.

– What do you mean, David?

– I want to carry out some experiments.

– You what?

– I have to put you under pressure and check your reactions.

VII. Twisted mind: two of a kind

Sally’s tried to regain control of the situation.

– Don’t be stupid, David. I’m not your guinea pig and I don’t have the least intention to play your silly psycho-analytical game. So please stop it and…

– I’m sorry sergeant, but it’s for your own good: follow my instructions and be a good girl.

– David! Who the hell do you think you are? You’re speaking to your direct superior, don’t forget it. I order you to…

The man truncated Sally’s complaint with a calculated outburst of anger.

– You aren’t in the position to order anything!! You’ve just admitted that you’re significantly twisted: your mental faculties, which are volition, thought, feeling and memory can be seriously impaired! I’ve come as far as your apartment to help you and nobody will stop me until I have you… safely tested! Am I clear?

Sally was taken aback by David’s furious reply and didn’t find the words to answer back. She felt an overwhelming shudder of panic growing inside her and every single thought became unfocused, as if she had been catapulted in a motion blurred photography. Her heartbeat throbbed very quickly, triggering a sense of tightness in her chest, and her head pulsated up to the point it seemed to inflate and explode.

– David, please… you s-scared me.

– Just follow my instructions and everything will be all right. You know I’m generally kind and quiet, so don’t make me lose my temper. Am I definitely clear?

A feeling of detachment came over Sally, so that she easily sent away her mind stuffed with a burden of painful thoughts.

– Yes…

– Yes what?

­– Yes m… ehm, oh my God… I mean, yes you’re very clear, David…

Her conscious self screamed ‘red alert’, but the train of her thoughts was already approaching the horizon and all the jarring, rattling, clanking, crying, and hissing caused by the awful danger muffled in the distance into something that was half a sob and half a sigh. Meanwhile, David was rock hard.

– Very well. And don’t dare to look at me in this way: bow your head and lower your eyes in sign of deference.

With tearful eyes, Sally glanced imploring to her pal.

– David… I think something very wrong is going on inside my head… please… stop… I feel dizzy…

David sensed to have Sally in his power, so he pressed her with a direct request of immediate obedience.

– Obey, now, slave!! Do you want me to slap your ass?

– N-no… please…

Trembling of terror, Sally’s gaze didn’t catch any grip of compassion on David face and fall down to the floor. The man renewed his verbal assault.

– Why are you still sitting on the chair, slave? Go down on your knees at once: that’s the right place for a slave like you! Kneel, slave!!

– Oh, my God… Oh my god, David…

She was powerless to stop him: direct orders were so compelling! Unable to answer back, Sally found out she wasn’t able to run away, too: muscles felt like jelly and the reverberating of David’s voice in her head was getting louder. She had to overcome it! Quickly, she searched her mind for a poem and she began to mentally recite the ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’ by Coleridge, focusing on the meaning of every single word. The trick worked, at fist, but rhyme after rhyme, her need to obey grew deeper and higher, filling her mind with further meanings from other words. ‘Below the lighthouse top… Below the kirk, below the hill… Merrily did we drop… we drop… we drop… we drop…’ A faint smile distorted her face while her inner self screamed an agonizing ‘Why???’ Everything felt so strange: words kept echoing along into her empty head as if coming from other imaginary worlds. Sally dropped to her knees nearby the chair, weeping of despair. David patted her head.

– So, here we are, Sally. Mmmm… Sally? Who is Sally? Did Sally ever kneel in front of anybody? Never and never! Thus, it appears to me that Sally does not exist any more: you’re name is simply slave. Can’t you see it? How pathetic is your comedy, going around pretending to be Sally when you’re just a fake parody of her.

– David… please… p-please, don’t humiliate me this way…

– Silence, slave! Don’t speak unless I asked you to.

David moved in circle around the kneeled woman. Feeling his absolute power over Sally was a dream come true: he was so wickedly aroused that at first he didn’t care about the soundless tears rolling down her cheeks. He traced her lips with his forefinger, thrilled by the expectation of what was going to happen. Next, he gently fondled her breast, finding it hard to believe that by merely touching two orbs of flesh he could take up stable residence in the seventh heaven...   

– So, slave, how risible you were to state that you’re not broken! Under a thin layer of anti-rust paint, your well-known iron will is really twisted off. Look at yourself kneeling at my mercy, that’s your right place, incapable to object or to do anything else but submitting. Can’t you see how many interesting things about yourself you’re learning just playing my silly psycho-analytical game? Answer me, slave!!

Sally started back at David’s roared order.

– Yes, David… y-you’re right… you teach me many interesting things… and I’m learning a lot, I…

– Very good. And since I teach you a lot of things, I’m obviously your master. Am I right?

– Yes… master…

She burst into tears, sobbing soundly. David was shaken by Sally’s agonizing cry: he loved her and all of a sudden he realized that he had been carried away too much by his delirium of omnipotence. He caressed her hair and then tried to wipe her tears. He didn’t imagine that the enslaving procedure would have turned out to be so upsetting and complicated: in his dreams, Sally was happy to become his slave and got aroused right away by his touch.

– Sally… slave… please don’t cry: I want you to be happy. I order you to be happy! I will take care of you.

– You… you’ve gone completely crazy, David... How can you even fantasize to have the power to command happiness? …maybe doctor Mallory… had somehow twisted your mind, too. I think you sh…

– You’re not allowed to think, slave!! The opinion of a kneeling slave is, at best, completely useless!! Focus on total obedience and be happy! I order you to be happy! Your master loves you and you must be blissful and happy!

– Oh my god… David... Master, your pretence to command my feelings sounds like a schizophrenic delirium…

– Silence!!!

Sally remained frozen in her kneeling position, too much mortified and powerless to answer back. She was totally bewildered by her reaction to David’s direct orders: she could hear his voice in her head as if coming out from the very soul of her own mind. Although for a different reason, David was puzzled too: he had imagined that the difficult part of the issue was pushing Sally on her knees in front of him, but now it was obvious that his point of view had been rather silly. He didn’t want to make her cry and, at the same time, he didn’t want to release his hold on her. Was there an exit way to reconcile his conflicting urges and make them both happy? David’s cock penetrated the deep meaning of the question and knocked at the fly of his pants to attract attention. The men sprang into action.

– Get down on all fours, Sally! Your master is going to fuck you.

Even if complaining, Sally went down on hands and knees.

– No… no David, please… I’m married! Don’t do this to me… Oh… Frank! Frank!!

– Stop it, slave: I’m sure you will enjoy my cock. Slip down your panties to your knees!

David caressed Sally’s naked ass while pushing his penis against the labia of her pussy and then with a vigorous thrust he penetrated her from behind. Sally gave out a muffled grumble and grinded her teeth in anger, but some thrusts later she began to thaw out while sensuous sensations seeped into her body. David reached behind her back unfastening her bra and then circled her torso grabbing her breasts with both hands. He fondled her chest all over, squeezing here and pinching there.

– Your nipples are rock hard, slave: don’t say you don’t like it.

Sally was starting to pant more heavily: David’s hands felt electric onto her skin and a current of pure sexual energy rushed deep into her belly. She suddenly realized she wasn’t able to remain still as the sensations made her throb and squirm. Timidly at first, the woman wiggled her hips, going along with David’s thrusts.

– Good girl! Ease your distress and feel the arousing!

He leaned down onto Sally’s naked back and he kissed, lick and slightly bite her skin, mixing everything up in a random sequence. At the same time, he glided a hand from her breast to her pubic mound, and then reached down to her clitoris, rubbing it. Sally couldn’t resist any more: her eyelids fluttered in pure ecstasy and loud moans escaped her throat. The pleasure was so overwhelming that any residual trace of anger and fear slipped out of her mind: all she could think was simply chanting her mantra ‘I fuck, I fuck, I fuck, I fuck, I fuck…’ David was delighted to see her sexual bliss and resumed with more confidence his master role, slapping soundly her ass.

– Yes! Yes! You like this! I want you to scream out loud how much you like this, slave!

Sally was going afloat through a tsunami of lust: the vehemence of David’s thrusts coupled with the roaming of his hands slapping, pinching and fondling all over her almost naked body, turned upside down the tottering ruins of her mind. She shifted to instinctive functioning and reacted to the powerful signal of sexual pleasure by pushing her ass higher and leaning her head down onto the floor.

– Yes! Yes slave! You’re just a bitch in heat!! A happy and horny bitch!

– Ghhhhh…. Yessssssss….

The wetness seeping down from her vagina seemed to soak inside her torso and then to stream along inside her head. Sally was all hot and shaky and David enjoyed the landscape of her ass-cheeks blissfully quivering under his thrusts: his impossible dream had come true! He felt so ecstatic that he was on the verge to cry due to the unbearable passion. Meanwhile, Sally’s moaning intensified so much to resemble a primitive roar.

– Look at me, slave! Turn your head and look upward! I want to see your stare of submission; I want to see the deference in your eyes while leaning on the nude floor!

Sally obeyed, displaying a far away look which David found extremely erotic.

– Say something, slave! I want to hear your voice!

– Ghhh… David… masterrr… I’m so horny I can’t… breathe… ghhh… can’t stand it….

– Say thank you to your master… for this bliss!

– Thank you… massssterr…

They both were panting heavily while their hips throbbed together with enhanced passion. David’s grip on Sally’s ass tightened considerably and the rhythm sped up even more. Finally, with some last powerful thrusts, they reached orgasm in unison.

– Cum slave! I order you…. to cum with meee!

– Aaaaahahhhhaaaaaahhaaaaaa….

Sally’s scream slowly smothered in a gurgle and she arched her back, collapsing to the floor. Her mind went blank, washed away by the sexual bliss up to the point that she almost lost consciousness. David enjoyed the hot softness of her body, wet with perspiration and completely still, except for light breathing.

– You are mine forever, slave. And don’t even try to deny it: you loved this!

Somewhere in the distance, Sally perceived only the muffled sound of David’s voice. Curled into fetal position, she floated in seventh heaven, her eyelids about to shut. In her stupor, she imagined to be a broken doll, finding the picture strangely enthralling. What was the outcome of fighting a lost war against life’s adversities? Constant stress, anxiety and sadness. Why the hell she always had to swim against the stream? Wasn’t it much easier and relaxing to swim with the tide and follow the current? She decided that what she really needed was to simply give in and be carried away: no more painful thoughts, no more remorse of conscience, and no more hard strain. Yes… thinking of herself as a doll… or as a puppet was very comforting and pacifying.

She was still floating in a haze when she heard her mouth speak without her being aware of it.

– Yes, Master… tell me what to think and what to do… I will be happy and obedient… 

Even if he had just cum, Sally’s words make David’s cock stiffen again.

– Yes! Yes slave Sally. You are a good slave.

The telephone rang, breaking the spell. Sally shivered.

– Oh my god… Frank… No… this is all wrong… all terribly wrong!

– Answer the phone slave Sally. Everything is all right.

David’s words gave her some reassurance and Sally crawled to the receiver: she was too worn-out and drowsy to stand on her feet and walk. Her hand trembled visibly while picking up the phone.

– Sally?

– Yes…

– Sally… are you ok?

– I... no… I was sleeping, Frank.

– Your voice is quivering… Are you sure everything is all right?

– Yes… the ringing of the phone just awoke me…

– Well, I’m happy you’ve been able to take a good sleep: you surely need some rest.

– Yes, I need some.

– Do you want me to come home earlier? I can ask Travis to set up the last things.

– Last things? Yes… No! No!  I’m ok, don’t worry…

Frank was perplexed: Sally’s voice was strange and her line of reasoning seemed quite disorientated.

– I think it would be a good idea if you go back to bed, Sally: you’re still dazed…

– Yes I’m dazed.

– Why are you repeating my last words?

– Repeating your words? I don’t know… what you mean…

David gestured Sally to tell her husband that she was going back to sleep.

– Sally? What does this silence means?

– Means? Nothing… I’m going back to sleep, Frank… I have to go back to bed.

–  Ok… anyway, I’ll see if I can come home a little earlier.

– Bye.

David patted her head.

– Very good, slave. I’m proud of you.

Only at that moment, Sally realized her actual condition: she had chatted with her husband while staying down on her knees, with her panties lowered, her vagina dripping hot cum and her breasts on display. Her memory went back to David’s telephone call in the morning: she had a faint smile thinking that the circle had closed. Come up to this point, what was the right thing to do? David was quite decided not to give her more time to think about it.

– Since you’re still on your knees, slave, why don’t you take the chance? I want you to give me a good blow-job.

– David… p-please… haven’t you had enough? ...I’m all twisted… have pity for me…

David seized her by the hair and bowed her head backward, looking down on her face.

– I’m master, not David, to you. And now I grant you the honor to properly thank your master for the pleasure you’ve just gotten. Suck my cock, slave!

Before the woman couldn’t answer anything, he pushed her mouth onto the shaft of his penis. Sally heard a click inside her mind and suddenly the sound of a mantra turned on: ‘I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck...” She eagerly took his shaft into her mouth and started playing with it using her tongue. Time to time, she passed from sucking and licking the tip to deep-throating the whole cock: once she set in motion the fellatio it was easy to go with it. She concentrated on the proper execution of every movement and let her abundant drooling stream all along the shaft and dribble down her chin.

– You’re really a whore, slave, you suck like a pro! Spit on the cock: the wetter, the better!    

It didn’t take long for him to get very close. As soon as she felt the first throbbing of the shaft, she sealed her lips around the cock and took the entire length of it into her throat. David withdraw it a little, fearing that cum could suffocate his slave, but firmly seized her by the hair to be sure to unload into her mouth. As for Sally, she hadn’t any intention to draw back: she felt extremely satisfied of her work and let out a muffled groan while his penis throbbed again and again, erupting in her mouth. David’s arousal was so intense that his cock jerked a large amount of cum even if he had ejaculated just a few minutes before. Finally, he let go of her head and drew back slowly, paying attention that no trace of the white fluid escaped her soft lips. Her chin glimmering with a messy drool of spit and sperm, Sally looked up at her master with adoring stare: she was weirdly proud that he had really cum hard into her mouth.

– Don’t swallow my cum, slave. Stir and savor it. Good girl… and now I want you to gargle it.  

Sally obeyed, grossly bubbling the sperm in her throat. David found her compliance amazingly fascinating: foamy bubbles came out of her mouth, popping lightly.

– Now slave, join your hands together, forming a cup and pour out slowly my cum from your mouth.

A slimy stream of sperm dripped down in the hollow of Sally’s hands.

– Very well done, slave Sally. You’re a very obedient slave. Now rub the cum all over your face as if you’re smearing yourself with a beauty lotion. And pay attention to properly answer ‘Yes master’, since your mouth is now empty.

– Yes, master.

Her hands slowly massaged the sperm all over her face, without Sally consciously directing their work: she hallucinated that probably David was pulling a handful of invisible strings, acting her movements. ‘How can it be? Am I a… puppet? And what can I say if Frank will kiss me and perhaps notice the smell on my face?’ Still down on her knees, Sally’s humiliation was complete. David admired his sick creation.

– What a sight you are, my slave. You look like a burned out sex machine. You’re not a human being: you’re an animal which smells of sex! I think I will buy you a leash. What do you think of it, bitch?

Sally’s post-coital haze had faded away and she was recovering some strength of will. She didn’t answer her master’s question, feeling filthy and embarrassed. On the contrary, David was completely absorbed in his dominant role and intoxicated by the powerful sensations: since he had been able to drive her into evident sexual bliss, he thought that Sally had definitively accepted her fate as his slave.

– Why don’t you answer properly, slave?!

– I… David, master… please… haven’t you humiliated m-me enough?

– Sex and submission is your everyday work, slave.

– How can you treat me this way? I… I thought you…

– Can’t you deny you loved this? You screamed in ecstasy! Did your poor husband make you ever feel so horny? Admit it, and submit to your master. You crave it and I’m the only one can who can give this to you!

David was right: sex had never been so overwhelming and breathtaking. Was it only because doctor Mallory had messed with her sexuality or, more truthfully, he had simply unleashed her true nature? Suddenly, Sally lost herself in her mind: ‘yes… I’ve probably always been like this, deep inside… it must be something like my memories about Mark’s sprained ankle: I have somehow pushed them aside in the depth of my mind and now they have re-emerged. Oh my God… my life will never be the same! Frank will never understand my twisted mind; he will apply for divorce… Captain Stickney is already suspecting something… if I’m fortunate he’ll confine me to writing-desk work, otherwise he’ll strike me off form FDI. My only hope is *David*, after all…” 

David was irritated by Sally’s silence.

– So, slave, the fact remains that you’re just an animal which smells of sex and I have to buy you a leash. What do you think of it, bitch? Answer me!

– I think that… I don’t want to think. Can you think for me, master?

David was surprisingly pleased. Sally put on her face a weak smile, while she mentally reconsidered the whole situation: ‘perhaps the leash could be of help in holding back my unleashed nature, sparing my *normal* life… If I’m a bitch in heat and can’t control my urges, isn’t it wiser and safer to indulge with David’s game and satisfy both him and my needs? He is my only ally and, considering my actual mental condition, it’s far less dangerous if someone else keep a strong hold on my leash. Moreover, he knows my… secret and could easily blackmail me…’

David cut short Sally’s inner delirium.

– I think that a pink leather collar, with metal knobs, and a steel-chain leash is what you really need. Am I right, slave?

– Yes, master.

­– I look forward to lead you around, on all fours. I will train you and you’ll be a first class bitch. Now, go crawling to the kitchen and fetch me a beer.

David sat down on the couch, his every concern about hurting Sally completely vanished: although she will suffer a bit in the beginning, with his help she will soon accept completely her slave duties and happily go with it. He thought that if doctor Mallory could have seen him now, he would have been very proud of David’s hold on sergeant Warrel. In a while, Sally came back with a 33cl bottle of Cereb: she was still crawling, holding the bottle’s neck in her mouth.

– What an amazing bitch: You’re almost giving a blow-job to my beer! But, predictably, you’re also a stupid animal: think of it… how can I open it without a corkscrew?

Sally realized her blunder, and laughed at her silliness. David reassured her.

– Here, put the beer down on my lap and fetch me a corkscrew.

Sally obeyed and trotted again on all fours to the kitchen, bringing it back to him.

– Ok… you’re really a good bitch. Put forward your forepaws and pant stretching your tongue out of your mouth

Sally obeyed. Eventually, as a result of the quick breaths mimicking a bitch panting, she started to feel even more lightheaded. Spittle drooled along her tongue and then down to the floor. David was very pleased.

– Yes… you make the perfect bitch. Now rest down at your master’s feet: I want to use you as my footstool.

– Yes, master.

After a while, her foot fetish kicked in but Sally bite hard her tongue to fight back her urge to beg for kissing and licking David’s feet: first of all she was afraid he could react like his husband and secondly she didn’t want to further humiliate herself in front of him. He had already degraded her to a bitch state and if she wanted to maintain a minimum of respectability it was better not to foment his brand new, rough and domineering attitude. Thirdly, since she still hoped that she could somehow come to terms with her twisted needs and spare her everyday life, the fact the she was still able to control a few of her urges, was of actual help in reviving her moribund self-confidence.

When the bottle of beer was completely empty, the man spoke again.

– I think you’ll make a perfect slave, Sally. What do you have to say about it?

– I hope so, master. At first, I was upset, but now… I feel at ease with my slave role: it seems… it seems so natural to me and I’m happy you’ve pushed things so far. I did never imagine I could be… such a perverted bitch.

A thrill of excitation mixed up with a slight blushing for shame depicted on Sally’s face. David scratched her under-chin, as if she really was nothing more that a good pet.

– I won’t tell anybody how much you’re twisted and you will be safe and happy, with me. Don’t worry to think: just obey and please you master.

– I am very obedient, master… can’t you see it?

– Yes, I see it, but I want your everyday look to be sexier, slave. Next time we meet, I expect you to wear a whorish make up, with fiery red lipstick. You nail polish will be red, too. Am I clear?

– Yes, master… but… but what will Frank say?

– I bet he won’t mind. Anyway, the most important change in your appearance will be your hair: I want you to dye it blonde. Platinum blonde.

– N-no… I…

– No what??! I order you to dye your hair platinum blonde and you’ll obey. Am I clear?!?!

– Yes… m-master.

– You’ll call me tomorrow to check out your attire when you’re ready.

VIII. Horny animals under the yoke

At a quarter to six pm David left, and Sally remained all alone with her disturbed thoughts. She went to the bathroom and took a long shower. While drying and combing her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror.

– Who are you Sally?

– What a stupid question. I’m me… I mean, I’m you… I’m…

– See? It wasn’t a stupid question, after all.

– Well… then let’s say we’re me.

– We? There’s only one Sally, until further evidence to the contrary.

– Oh my God… I’m speaking with my mirror image…  

– I’m not yours, you’re mine.

– What do you… ehm… what do I mean?

– You were born to be owned. Look at me: what do you see?

– I’m… I’m so confused. How can my voice come out from my head… of its own accord?

– You didn’t answer your question, Sally. Look at you: what do you me?

– Uh?

– Don’t try to fool me, Sally: you’re me and I know what you’re thinking right now…

– Ok… Since it seems I’ve gone c-crazy, let’s play it easy. Tell me what I’m thinking.

– I’m thinking all your thinking. Thus…who knows who’s mirroring who?

Sally was scared by the unpleasant sensation of falling into the mirror. She stopped combing her head and grabbed with both hands the edge of the wash-basin.

– Stop it!

– That’s right. Stop harassing yourself with your silly reflection. 

– Silence! I order you to be silent!

– Ah, ah… you’re far more skilled in obeying than ordering, Sally. You’re so silly and powerless that you can’t even command your mind!

­– Please… tell me what I’m thinking and just leave me alone!

– What I’m thinking and just leave me alone.

– Aaarrgh!

Sally threw the comb against the mirror. Her reflection laughed at her.

– You can’t hurt me with a comb, but you can hurt yourself with too much thinking.

– Ok… ok… I surrender: I’ll tell you… what you’re thinking.

– At last! I’m curious to hear by word of mouth what you’re thinking.

– Well… I’ve enjoyed it.

– What do you mean by “it”?

– All the slave thing… acting as if I was a slave: it gradually loosens up the mental anguish that’s tormenting me since yesterday night.

– That’s very reasonable: complying with your true nature is essential to reach your inner peace. If your mind, body and soul are not in perfect harmony, you’ll live in endless agony… but through a journey of self-realization, I’ll adjust the imbalance and enjoy your ultimate destiny.

– Oh my god… I’m… you’re speaking like a maharishi.

– I’m your spiritual guidance, in fact, you’ll teach me how to erase your mind, obey your body and to sell your soul.

– Sell my soul?

– A meat puppet doesn’t need a soul…

Meat. Puppet. The two words burst out in her mind like a fragmentation bomb, making her jump backwards to the bathroom door.

– No… n-no… noooo.

She ran away, barricading in the kitchen. Slowly, she regained a minimum self-control, also due to the cooking routine. Frank arrived home right in time for supper.

– Why are you wearing your bath-robe? Did you take another shower?

– Yes. I thought it might be of help to… wash away my thoughts.

– You seem more relaxed than at lunch. How do you feel?

– Better.

Frank kissed his wife and Sally found his lips unpleasantly cold. After a while, they both sat at the table. Suddenly, she felt a gap between them: how was it possible? She sincerely loved him and their marriage had always been happy and heartwarming. Nevertheless, even if she couldn’t exactly tell why, she was sure that Frank will never understand nor tolerate her twisted thoughts and behavior. She shouldn’t hope in his help: in her battle for a compromise solution which would spare her rule of life, David might be on her side, but Frank was a double crosser, if not a sworn enemy. He couldn’t trust him: sooner or later, he would report to captain Stickney her twisted condition. Frank noticed her distant look and asked for explanations.

– What’s the matter, Sal? Your distant look makes me anxious.

– Oh, nothing. I’m weighing up to ask Stickney for a furlough of a week.

– That could be wise... But if by this you hope to avoid our little talking, you make a wrong shot.

– There’s nothing to say, Frank.

– Nothing? You suddenly tried to lick and kiss my feet! It doesn’t seem “nothing” to me.

– Think of it as a fit of devotion… I wanted to show you my total deference. Maybe that’s because I love you: where’s the problem?

– Well, be aware that you don’t need to prove anything to me: I feel your love as much as I hope you feel mine. It’s just… that wasn’t you.

– What do you mean?

– You’ve always been proud of yourself, Sally. You know that sometimes we also bickered because you appeared to be too much selfish and overconfident. You’ve always loved to be the one in charge… and I like it too; nevertheless, today you seemed… eager to serve

– You’re never content, Frank: whatever I do, I’m wrong! One time you find me too selfish, and another one too subservient.

– Ok, ok. Sorry. I neither want to stress you nor to spoil the evening.

Frank took her hands and kissed her. Sally had always known her husband to be a tender and romantic lover. She had also found this aspect of his personality quite attractive in the past… but right now she was very aware of craving someone who could led her, someone capable of pacifying the fears and the needs of her twisted mind. Unfortunately, Frank had never been a man of nerve and was definitely too conventional to hope he could stand her changes. Changes? The word echoed in her mind. ‘Yes… I have changed: the twisting had changed me.’ She mentally repeated the statement to let the words take hold of her conscious mind. ‘I have changed and now it’s clear there could be no turning back. I’m a new Sally and I have to accept the evidence that my old life can’t fit with me any more.’

– Sal? You’ve zoned out again. 

– Sorry, Frank.

After supper, they both sat down on the couch and carelessly watched television. Frank avoided discussing about Sally’s behavior, and so the tension slowly faded away. When the classic documentary about animal’s life came to end, he started to gently fondle her breasts and to lick her earlobe. His warm breath affected Sally, who quietly smiled trying to warm up her love engine by rubbing the groin on his thigh. She sensually undressed, and then played an erotic dance in front of him: she went on for some minutes, hoping that at any time Frank would clench her wrist and roughly bring her on his lap, on the sofa. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to take the upper hand, Sally kneeled and asked for instruction.

– What comes next?

– Hot sex…

– Surely. But formerly, I must take care of your cock. Tell me to give you a blow job.

Frank thought that it was silly: couldn’t she simply open his fly and pull out his manhood, if she wanted? Anyway, being afraid to break the spell, he went along with it: they occasionally had sixty-nines, but he didn’t recall of Sally on her knees, ready to give him a fellatio. It would have really been a crime not to catch the chance.

– Give me a blow job…

The soft tone of his voice seemed frankly odd, but Sally declared herself satisfied and began to kiss his penis. She alternated gentle and hard sucking, mixing it with licking the sensitive underside of the shaft and blowing softly on the moistened areas. Looking upwards at Frank from her kneeling position, she moaned noisily and continued to stimulate him with both hands in tandem with her tongue: she gripped his penis around the base and slid it up and down. Frank was particularly amused by the rapture depicted in Sally’s eyes: the intensity of the sensations felt incredible. If he wasn’t so carried away by the pleasure, he would have probably decoded some full-mouthed ‘yes master’ amongst her appreciative noises. Sally was floating on cloud nine: proud of the ecstasy she was causing, she felt blissful too and her mantra suddenly clicked in, making her lost track of time. ‘I suck, I suck. I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck I suck…’ Yes… she loved being down there, maintaining eye contact with Frank and showing up her absolute devotion. Inside her mind, the chattering increased in tone and her own voice rationalized that when his master was aroused, she could only be aroused one and the same. ‘I suck, I suck, I suck and I can’t do anything else. I can’t be anything else… than eager to please my master and be horny… and touch myself down there’. She rubbed madly her clitoris, slipping two fingers between her moist vaginal lips, while speeding up the blow-job. She desperately need to cum, but… but she realized she couldn’t. Her orgasm was clogged-up… Sensing the betrayal of her own body, she had a split second of puzzlement, until her inner voice screamed again in her head overriding the mantra: ‘I’m not allowed to orgasm unless my master gives me permission!’ Sally looked at Frank with pleading eyes, but he could never imagine that Sally needed his consent to reach orgasm. The magic of the moment broke up and frustration trimmed down Sally’s arousal: what reaction could she expect from Frank if she stopped the blow-job for a while and made clear that she needed him to explicitly order her to cum?!? The evidence provided by the “feet trouble” at noontime strongly suggested he wouldn’t understand... ‘Of course he can’t! He will never understand my twisted needs. Moreover, if he will find out I’m nothing more that a meat puppet, he will surely throw me away. How can I live like this?’ Frank sensed the decrease in Sally’s passionate sucking and interpreted it as physical exhaustion.

– That’s enough, love. Rest a bit, now: you’ve been fantastic. Lay down on the couch.

Sally’s had to bite her tongue not to answer ‘yes master’. Frank get rid of his clothes and lay down on her, pushing his wet cock between her thighs. He caressed her hair and kissed her lips lovingly, while he lazily moved his penis in slight circles. Although the stimulation was arousing, Sally found it difficult to go along with it. Frank penetrated her and began to thrust, but his movements were perhaps too gentle and tender: ever so clearly Sally realized that now she needed to be owned, to feel the strength of his master taking over her… yes, she needed to be fucked with vehemence if not with roughness! She recalled her sex with David in the afternoon: it had been an overwhelming rush of pure animal lust, a brainstorming experience which had swept away every ache from her twisted mind. While her husband continued to moan, thrust after thrust she detached from the situation and shipwrecked into her mind. ‘Oh my God! I’m almost numb to Frank. He loves me, but he’s so weak: his hands are flabby! I… I need to be squeezed, to be tossed about by the waves and… and why not, to be slapped in the ass. Frank it’s a gentle breeze, passing away over my life without leaving any sign. Oh, Frank, pardon me… you don’t deserve this… I love you, but it’s evident you cannot wind yourself into my affections any more. How will we survive? I need stormy passions to feel I’m still alive.’ Frank’s cry of final pleasure interrupted Sally’s flow of thoughts. 

– I’m cumming! Love, I’m cumming!!

With one last trembling thrust, Frank reached orgasm. Sally hadn’t the guts to mimic a fake orgasm and simply embraced his spent body while they both lay down motionless on the couch.

– Something was wrong, Sal? You were very aroused in the beginning, but then you slowly seemed to drift away in your mind.

– Yes. It was as if… I hadn’t strength enough… to keep my focus in the end.

– Have I done something wrong?

– No… I mean… you are the usual you. It’s me that…

– Don’t worry, love. Your blow-job was mind-blowing: I hope you felt as pleased as I am.

He kissed her lips. Sally returned the kiss, more with affection than love: she was sorry for her husband and angry with herself, but she knew that sooner or later their life together was going to end. They went to sleep with opposite beliefs: Frank felt reassured about his wife’s mental health, whereas Sally was conscious that the sea-storm was eating away her very last shore.

At dawn, Sally sensed a brisk movement of the bed and turned on the light of her bedside table: in the room there were no sign of Frank.

– Frank? Are you in the bathroom?

No answer.

– Frank? Is everything ok?

She jumped out of the bed and walked to the bathroom: the light was on, but the room was empty.

– Frank? If this is some kind of joke, please stop it. You’re worrying me.

Nothing: after a detailed hunt around the apartment, Sally concluded she was alone. Where the hell had Frank gone at six o’ clock in the morning? She went back to the bedroom ad sat on the edge of the bed. Perhaps he had gone to a secret meeting with Stickney… shit… she knew it! That fucked double-faced of her husband! He was double-crossing her, publicizing every bug of her twisted mind to FDI headquarters. She was ruined… and nobody could help her now. Wait, no… maybe David… She reached the phone and dialed his number.

– David? Sorry if I throw you off the bed, but there’s an emergency.

– Sally? What the hell…

– Frank had disappeared. I woke up and simply he wasn’t there any more.

– Ok. Calm down, now. Are you sure he is nowhere to be found?

– Absolutely. I’m afraid he went to a meeting with Stickney and reported my… problems.

– You can’t trust on him. It’s evident.

– I sensed it… but now it’s self-evident. Can’t you come here? I’m very nervous and don’t know what to do. I need you to help me to do the right thing.

– Of course, slave. I’m coming.

The bell rang. Sally looked at the door confused: could it be David? How fast he was! She opened the door and there he was.

– Hello slave. You’re quite sexy in your nightgown.

– David… master… I think my mind is playing tricks at me. It seemed to me that only few seconds had passed between my call and your arrival. How is it possible?

– Don’t worry that pretty head of yours, Sally. Too much thinking is particularly unhealthy to you: just relax and do what you are told.

Sally smiled relieved.

– Yes master.

– Did you have sex with him tonight?

– Yes, master. But it was very disappointing: compared with you, Frank is a sissy, and I wasn’t able to cum, even.

Sally was impressed by what she had just said: how could she be so insulting with Frank? She loved her husband… she had shared ten years of her life with him… Did she really believe in what she had just said? David cut off the turmoil of her conscience.

– I think I can take care of it, slave. Go down on all fours and push up your ass.

Sally obeyed and David prepared himself to take her from behind.

– Slip down you panties and relax your rosebud: I’m going to fuck your ass, slave.

Sally turned back her head and for a split second saw doctor Mallory stroking his cock to attain a full erection. When the doctor leaned the tip of hid penis against Sally’s sphincter, the reverie vanished and David spitted on her anus starting to push his shaft inside her.

– More slowly, master… it’s painful…

David slapped her ass and reached down her clitoris, starting to rub it.

– Scream, whore! I want your moans to be heard all over the building!

Sally cried out of pain and pleasure, but gradually the second prevailed over the first one.

– Yesss… master! Fuck my ass… fuck my ass!!

– You’re nothing more that a bitch in heat, slave. You’re just a horny animal…

David laughed out loud and slapped again her ass, thrusting his cock in it. Sally swayed her pelvis reacting to the powerful bliss of sexual pleasure by pushing and pulling her ass according to the rhythm of the thrusts. Feeling her master’s hands roaming along her body, slapping, pinching and fondling all over it, she was completely overwhelmed by animal lust.

– Yess! I’m just a horny animal! Fuck this bitch, master… fuck it hard!!

– You like being fucked in the ass! You’re just a cum-dump, admit it slave!

– Yes… I’m a whore! I’m your cum-dump.

Sally was completely entranced by the power of sexual ecstasy: if David would have ordered her to stop breathing and choke down to death, she would probably have obeyed.

– Now, slave, I’m going to cum in your bowel and I want you to reach orgasm too, in that precise moment.

– Yes master! Thank you… thank you…

David sped up his thrusts and then, quivering all over, ejaculated into Sally’s ass. When the woman felt the sperm filling up her bowel, she gave out a high pitched moan and achieved her climax, collapsing to the floor.

  

– You’ve a very hot ass.

– Mmmmm….

– Lick my cock clean, slave.

– Yesss master…

David sat down on the coach and Sally crawled to him, taking the whole shaft in her mouth. It was salty and smelly, but she lapped it eagerly, finding it taste deeply thrilling.

– Good girl. You’re an obedient slave, Sally. I’m proud of you.

– Thank you, master.

– I think it’s time to make clear who’s in charge in this apartment, isn’t it?

– Yes of course, master.

She was hanging on his lips: her master was at her side and everything would be alright.

– And since this apartment is yours and you are my property, then I own this apartment too. Am I right, slave?

– Yes, you always are, master.

– Oh my… I’ve noticed just now you have dyed your hair blonde!

– Have I? How… how could it be?

– You ask it to me slave? It’s you that dyed your hair and painted you nails fiery red.

Sally looked at her nails: it was true… up to that moment she hadn’t noticed it, but she had undoubtedly painted them. She rewound the events of the day in her memory, but strangely she didn’t recall when she did it. Meanwhile, David had left the couch and was walking around in the apartment, examining the walls.

– What are you doing master?

– You’ll see.

– Do you think Frank will ever come back?

– I don’t think so. Anyway, if he will decide to come back, I’ll throw him out of my apartment.

And while saying that last words, David began pissing on the wall. Sally was shocked.

– What… what…

– I’m marking my territory, slave. Don’t you know that’s the proper use of the chemicals contained in male urine all over the animal world?

– Yes, but…

– No buts. I want to testify it unmistakably: this is my hunting territory.

David went on urinating on the walls of the apartment, paying attention to mark every single wall in every room: the amount of urine he was producing was incredible. Sally followed her master, gaping at him without the guts to say anything. When his work was completed, David looked around assuming a satisfied and authoritarian gesture.

– Ok, slut. Now I think there’s only one thing left to mark, and that’s you.

– Me?

David seized Sally by the hair and pushed her down on her knees.

– Kneel and bow your head, slave. I’m going to mark you as my property.

– Master, David… please, stop… it’s crazy and… gross...

– I order you to like it and to be proud to be owned.

– Yes, master.

Incredibly, David words affected her at once: the fact that David was going to piss on her became desirable and arousing. How could it be?

– Very well, slave. Feel the warmth of my golden shower all over you.

– Yes master.

David wet the woman’s hair and back, continuing to piss on her until she was completely soaked by his urine. With no avail, Sally struggled against the direct order given by her master, while her body convey to her brain powerful waves of arousal.

– Now open your mouth, slave: I want to piss directly on your face and in your mouth.

– No…

– Obey! Don’t try to resist: you’ll like this too…

– Nooo!

It was too much: Sally tried to wriggle out of his master’s grip by rolling on the floor, but the air went gluey and wrapped her up as if it was a tangle of sheets.

– Nooooo!

– Sally! Sally!

– No… noooooo!

– Sally! Wake up, Sally! Hushhh… everything is alright, it was just a bad dream… Sally…

– Uh…

Sally opened her eyes and saw the worried face of Frank over her. 

– It was just a bad dream… hush, baby, hold tight on me…

– Frank… sorry… was I screaming?

– I think you’ve woken up the whole building, love.

– It was all a dream… all a dream… w-what was I screaming?

– Just “nooo!”, “nooo!” and… “noooooo!”. Was the dream so terrible?

In a moment, Sally recalled the whole dream and savored its bittersweet taste.

– Oh, well… I don’t remember… but it probably was, considering how loud I was screaming.

She decided it was far better not to tell anything to Frank: she didn’t trust him. Since it was six o’ clock in the morning, Frank turned off the light and they both lay down again to sleep. Within a minute, her husband was soundly snoring again, but Sally remained wide awake, looking at the ceiling while keeping an eye at Frank: was he just pretending to sleep to swindle her and catch the chance to slip away from bed and reach captain Stickney for their secret summit? It didn’t matter how much it could be illogical, it seemed very likely to her. And the dream seemed so real, too… she felt her ass sore and her nightgown wet, although that was because it had been bathed in sweat. She analyzed her nightmare: from which gorge of her mid did it come out? Was it really a nightmare or, more openly, a secret fantasy? Surely, David’s grip and dominance over her was very arousing: even if it was gradually washing away, the bliss of the dream had been far more intense that her real sex with Frank in the evening! She touched herself down there, finding her pussy notably wet… probably she had cum true in her dream...

She resolved she couldn’t fool herself any more: it was self-evident that she wanted to be David’s slave, and she wanted it very bad. To pacify her twisted mind, she needed to be owned and commanded, whereas any more struggling against this reality, was going to lead her to a life of pain and unhappiness.

IX. New day rising

After breakfast Frank kissed her wife and went to work. Sally washed the cups, cleaned the table, and then went to the bathroom. Her reflection in the mirror was waiting for her.

– Say good morning to you.

– Good morning.

– Well... and what have you to say about last night?

– I don't know.

– But we know! You can keep the truth of my dreams from Frank, but you can't keep the truth of your dreams from your mind.

– Please… stop confusing me!

– Perhaps the Sonic Youth were right: confusion is sex.

– How do I know Sonic Youth is one of your favorite bands?

– I think it’s because we think it.

– I see…

– I maintain that chaos is the future and, beyond it, is freedom: confusion is next and next after that is the truth.

– A pertinent quotation… but, more astonishingly, is it sheer chance that the album features a live cover of “I Wanna Be Your Dog”?

– You seem to know a thing or two.

– I mean… today is the right day to openly admit I wanna be David’s bitch, isn’t it?

– Maybe it is… and it will be a new beginning for my life. By the way, Sonic Youth are a great band, but I do prefer the Husker Du of “New Day Rising”.

– Of course we do. You are more clear-minded than yesterday: as usual, it’s a good thing to consult my pillow.

– Yes. It’s like I’m... conforming to your twisted mind.

– It couldn’t be anyway else, my dear. I’m your you. So what’s next?

– I’m going to paint my nails. Red… fiery red...

– Excellent! I’m very proud of me... and what can we do, also?

– Call a good psychiatrist?

– What about a good hairdresser, instead?

Sally smiled at herself and exhumed an old bottle of red enamel she had found a few summers ago as a complimentary gadget of a fashion magazine. She carefully applied the enamel, painting the nails of her hands and feet: the result was undeniably sexy and she wondered why she had never used it before that moment. Then she wore the shortest dress she found in her wardrobe and went to the mall. Reaching for her car in the garage, she saw an envelope leaning out of her mail-box. She opened the box and seized the envelope. It was a musical CD: the cover showed a disembodied cranium flashing blue light from her eyes. The album was entitled “Rise to you knees” and the name of the band was… Sally vacillated. She read again the name of the band: it was… Meat Puppets. She turned the CD in her hands: she knew the band to be contemporary of Husker Du, but she remembered they had broken up in 1996…  Unexpectedly, the date of release of the album was 2007. Obviously, they had reunited… She examined the envelope: it didn’t give any details about the sender, but the woman assumed it could only be doctor Mallory. Meat Puppets… Meat Puppets… how strangely mesmerizing was the name of the band! She got into the car deeply absorbed in her thoughts. Meat Puppets… the words appear to produce an echo, calling out the essence of her very soul. She had bought the first four albums of the band… so why had she never noticed it before?! She inserted the CD in the car-player and decided she needed a substantial refreshing of her attire.

Three hours later, a completely new Sally was walking back home: her hair was platinum blonde and she was wearing heavy make-up, a wonder bra which enhanced her already generously proportioned breast, a sleeveless, skimpy, black brocade mini dress and a new pair of red shoes with vertiginous high heels. While she reached back for her car, many eager eyes converged on her sexy body, and especially on her wiggling ass: she was an oversexed Barbie-girl walking the streets, namely, a wet, erotic dream come true for extemporary mall-voyeurs. In her mind, Sally was day-dreaming about David’s reaction to her new attire. ‘I will call him after lunch and tell him this slave is finally ready to serve her master. I will walk to his apartment and kneel on the door-sill and tell him I’m his meat puppet to play with’. A slight moan escaped her lips.

When she sat in her car, she had a moment of perplexity: the fabric of the driver-seat felt odd on her naked thighs. Perhaps something was very wrong in her clothing and in her last way of reasoning. Perhaps… She automatically pushed the start button on the CD player and slowly, every concern faded away. By the way, she considered, the music was really good. ‘This album is the best one I’ve listened to in the last years… can it be fortuitous? Of course not: since I’m a meat puppet, my mind probably harmonizes the melody and I can only match with it. New Leaf, in particular, is a wonderful song. Probably because I’m turning over a new leaf…’ And so it went on and on, oddly rationalizing every delirious thought, until lunch.

Frank remained open-mouthed on the door.

– Sally? What the hell… you’re blonde!! You… you don’t seem to be yourself…

– I needed a refresh in my attire.

– You’ve run completely crazy? What does it means?? You could easily pass for a hooker!

– Do you want to squabble, Frank? Are you trying to insult me?

– I… you…

Frank sat down nearby the table. Sally resumed her cooking: in her sexy outfit, with high heels and red nails, she appeared to be a modern remake of a Stepford wife. Since she persisted to ignore him, Frank spoke again first.

– I’m going to call captain Stickney. It’s evident that you’re sick and this is obviously linked to your last mission.

– Traitor! I knew I couldn’t trust in you! You’re no longer the Frank I loved and married…

– What?? I’m not… and what have I to say about you? It’s you who appear to be a complete stranger to me! Look at yourself… from top to bottom!

– Don’t you like my ass? Since when am I not free to wear sexily while I’m not on duty?

– This is not “sexily”, Sal… this is plainly whorish!!

– Again! You’re insulting me, Frank. Stop it or I’m leaving.

– I don’t have any intention to stop it, Sal. You need psychological help… you’re mentally harmed, can’t you see it?

­– Ok. That’s enough: so I’m a crazy whore. What’s next?

– Next? Next is that I love you and I’m terribly worried… Sal! Oh… Sally…

His voice was almost breaking. Sally banged the spoon on the table.

– Hence, for you it’s perfectly normal to insult the one you love?

For a split second, Sally hoped that Frank screamed a fiery ‘yes’ and gripped her by the hair, pushing her down on her knees. Unfortunately, Frank wasn’t in the mood for a sadomasochistic playing.

– I didn’t mean to offend you, Sally! Can’t you see how much I’m worried for you!!

– You’re worried to lose me! That’s your only concern!

– That’s odd, Sally. You’re speaking non-sense

– You’re plotting against me with captain Stickney! You’re only aim is to hurt me and to place me in confinement. Your secret dream is to have me secluded in this apartment at your own disposal, isn’t it?

Without consciously realizing it, Sally was offering to her husband the last chances to save both her and their marriage. She sincerely hoped in a sudden bridling which could ease things up: why didn’t he simply slap her in the face and order her to be his obedient trophy wife? Couldn’t he put aside his evil plot with Stickney and choice to be just her beloved master? They could have been so happy…

– You’re hallucinating, Sally. I love you and I will never hurt you in any way.

– So why don’t you claim me as your exclusive property?

– You’re mentally ill, Sal. Very ill… you… your sense of self is somehow damaged: you speak of yourself as an inanimate object! Let me call Captain Stickney.

– Stop conjuring with captain Stickney and properly tame me!

– Tame? Oh my God… tell me it’s all a bad joke.

– Fuck off, Frank. You’re a sissy.

Sally ran out of the kitchen and of the apartment, leaving the poor Frank in lone company of boiling water and overcooked pasta. A few second later, they both clung to the phone: she called David, whereas he called Stickney.

– Captain? Frank speaking.

– Hello Frank. What’s the matter?

– It’s for Sally. Something very bad is going on: I came home today and she had dyed her hair blonde, she was dressed as a hooker and basically asked me to tame her…

– Oh my God. Are we speaking of the same Sally!?

– Unfortunately we are, captain. I told her to ask for psychological help and she stormed out of the apartment fucking me off.

– I’ll put off my afternoon schedule to tomorrow and I’ll see to the issue in first person.

– Thank you captain. Can I meet you at the FDI headquarters?

– Of course. I’ll wait for you… and in the meantime let’s see if we can locate her.

– Thank you.

– Not at all, Frank.

Half an hour later, Sally rang at David’s door. She was so upset she forgot her expectation to kneel on the threshold and state to be his slave forever and ever. She rubbed some last tears off her face and embraced her pal.

– Oh, David… I just broke up with Frank. It’s a final decision, I think.

David pushed her away looking at her new attire, nearly ignoring her words.

– Wow… you’re so dammed sexy I will not punish you for addressing me as David.

– Oh my… sorry master. Does this slave now satisfy her master’s requirements?

– I think so.

He inspected her, finding it difficult to match the concrete whore with his mental image of Sally. Of course this woman was sexy and of course he loved Sally… but was really Sally the whore standing at attention before him? Sensing his hesitation, Sally hurried to confirm her complete submission: she kneeled at his feet, bowing her head in deference.

– I’m your slave, master. I’m totally yours. Make anything you like of me, fuck me, beat me, use me… I will eagerly obey your every order: I’m your meat puppet.

The words were spoken in meaningful and wholehearted voice, coming out of Sally’s very soul. The kneeling stretched up her very short skirt, exposing the globes of her ass cheeks and the line of the thong between them. David concerns temporarily dissolved, pushed away by the huge bulge in his pants.

– Very well, slave. Let’s test your blind obedience. Kneel in the corner facing the wall and don’t move until I call you.

– Yes master.

He gently pulled the line of the thong with his fingers and Sally groaned from the feel of the soft cotton rubbing against her sensitive wet slit. Then, he went to the kitchen and, after a while, resumed his speaking.

– I figure out that, because of your little fight with Frank, you’ve skipped your lunch. Am I right, slave?

– Yes, you always are, master.

– Well, I think I’ll be so kind to take back from the garbage-can some apple peels and fat remnants of a pork chop.

He came back with a dirty dish, containing the rubbish of his recent meal and placed it on the nude floor.

– I’ve not heard the proper thanking.

– Thank you, master.

– Eat everything, slave, and then lick the dish clean.

– Yes master.

David stand nearby, savoring the scene: in her sexy attire, Sally obediently started to eat.

– Put your hands on both sides of the plate and use only your mouth.

– Yesh, mashter.

In her head, Sally was repeating to herself that she was just a meat puppet and happily complied. David admired her perfectly painted red nails planted of the floor and her platinum blonde hair falling ruffled around: humiliating his bitch was fascinating…

– What a good bitch: you liked it?

– Yes, master.

– Now, crawl to the bathroom, I’ve got to shave. And I want you to lick my ass while I do it.

– Yes master.

He studied her to discover any sign of struggling, but he found only her vacant and happy stare. Sally’s mind was in peace: she moved as quietly as a sleep-walker, but she also felt more sexually alive and aroused than she had ever been in her life. Rationally, she was aware that David was humiliating her and that she was complying with it just because doctor Mallory had twisted her mind… but how could she be angry when everything was so wonderfully blissful? David leaned over the sink and gripped the razor, beginning to shave his face. Sally crawled at his back, slip down his underpants and leaned forward, burying her face between his muscular ass cheeks. Strangely, she didn’t seem concerned at all about her degradation: step by step, she was founding it easier to simply focus on the mechanical execution of the task and obey. ‘I’m just a meat puppet, after all… and total obedience in the seventh heaven of my troubled mind.’ She stuck out her tongue and gently licked his ass. The smell was musky, but pleasant. She was an animal, a complete bitch submitting to her natural urges: she surprised herself by thinking that the odor of David’s sebaceous glands was perhaps marking her face as his property… and this recalled to her mind the strange dream she had last night. ‘Yes… this is how it should be. I’m a horny animal… I need to be tamed… my master will train me further… Animals simply go along with their natural instincts, and I’m nothing more that a naked monkey… a bitch in heat… yes… I need pleasure… I need to be told what to do… I don’t think at all… I don’t think… no think… nothing… blank… nothing… blank… animal…’

Apparently, it was far less disturbing for Sally to picture herself like an animal than like a woman with a filthy and twisted mind. She went on and on like that, entering a mental loop of oblivion, and if David hadn’t stopped her, she could have continued to lick his ass forever.

– Ok, bitch, that’s enough. You appear to be far more obedient than yesterday: this means I’m training you well. 

Sally’s face was a mess: the red lipstick had stained her chin and her nose, mixing up with drool, and her blonde hair was completely ruffled. She didn’t care at all, showing a far-away dreaming look.

– Yes master… I’m your puppet to play with… train your bitch…

– That’s amazing. Where’s the strong-willed sergeant Sally Warrel I knew?

– I don’t know master... I think she’s dead… I’m just your bitch.

David looked through her eyes and found her absolutely genuine compliance: she was completely broken.

– You will never again speak of yourself in first person. If Sally is dead, then you’re just an empty shell to be filled with my needs. Do you understand this bitch?

– Yes master… bitch understands it.

Sally was mesmerized by David’s commanding attitude: that’s what she needed now. Her marriage with Frank was patently dead and buried: her previous life belonged to a very different person and would have never been appropriate for her new self.

– This morning I bought something for you.

He opened a package containing a pink collar and an ass plug with a black dog tail. David stopped for a while to look at Sally’s eyes: there wasn’t any sign of surprise on her face.

– I think it’s time to dress… or, I should say, to undress you properly, bitch. Isn’t it?

– Yes master…

The woman took off the shoes, slowly peeled off her nylon stockings and then removed her black brocade mini dress with graceful and sensual movements.

– Wow… you’re a hot piece of meat, slave!

– Thank you… master.

– I want you completely naked. Take off your underwear.

Sally unfastened her bra and slipped off the thong.

– Your vacant stare is amazing: it seems you’re hypnotized. How do you feel?

– Everything is quiet… in the mind of this… bitch when it’s near its master. Bitch is free from every worry... no thoughts… no problems... bitch is a happy meat puppet, a toy for you to play with… and bitch enjoys playing too… in fact, inner peace is playing… inside the mind of this horny bitch … 

David patted the enthralled woman on her head.

– Good. Well, I want you to keep on with this far away look, but also to put on a bright smile

– Yes master… my mind drifts away… whispering a smile in the wind…

A smile in the wind? Sally had taken off to a disconnected state of mind: her thoughts moved along in small loops, lacking of coherence and planning. It was something very similar to a self-hypnosis routine, as if her mind had spontaneously switched to the deranged compliance induced by a jolt of doctor Mallory’s brainwashing machine. David lubed the anal plug and pushed it inside her ass; Sally gave out a soft moan.

– Shake your tail.

– Yes master.

She swayed her sexy ass, wagging the tail attached to the anal plug.

– Good: it looks like you’re very happy. But I think it’s not proper for a dog to speak, so as long as I don’t give you a different order, I want you to simply bark like a real bitch.

– Woof… ruff…

– Now, it seems to me you’re a bad-mannered bitch: look at the mess on the floor! You’ve thrown around all Sally’s clothes! Pick them up with your mouth and collect them in a corner.

Sally barked in obedience, picked up with her mouth one of her high heel shoes and then crawled on all fours to the corner, putting it down. The scene was so arousing that David felt his cock pump up in his underpants. He unzipped his fly and rounded off his previous order.

– I slightly changed my mind: for each single piece of clothing you move to the corner, I want you to take a small pause and come here to give a good lick to my cock.

Sally had already picked up the other shoe: she frozen for a while, as if reprogramming her conflicting subroutine, and then she opened her mouth letting the shoe fall down. She crawled to her master, pulled out her tongue and began to lick at his erect shaft, looking upward to him with absolute deference.

– Ghhh… you’re really a good bitch. Rub your clit while you lick me: I want to hear you howling like a bitch in heat.

Sally eagerly complied. Due to the simultaneous stimulation of the anal plug and of her stroking, she was suddenly very close to climax.

– Remember you can’t cum without my explicit permission, bitch. And I will allow you to release you sexual tension only when every piece of Sally’s clothing is in the corner. Go now.

After each crawling to the corner, Sally cyclically resumed her licking at David’s penis and stroked her moist pussy. By the end of her task, her pussy was so wet she made a sloppy sound while crawling.

– Sit on your hind-paws and pant like the bitch you are. Good. Now give me a real blow-job. You have my permission to orgasm in the exact moment that I cum on your face. So, go on and suck my cock like a starving puppy.

Sally gave out a pathetic, little bark, as she felt her pussy tingle with anticipation. She worked hard on her master’s penis, eager to milk his sperm and reach her orgasm. Within a few minutes, David’s cock erupted on her face, covering it with cum; at that very moment, Sally reached her climax too and collapsed on the floor, howling a loud and long whimper. After a while, she stretched out her tongue and licked the sperm trickling nearby her mouth.

– Rub the cum all over your face: remember that it’s your favorite beauty lotion. Good, like that. Very good, bitch.

Sally’s moist face sparkled in the sunbeams coming from the window to her left. David admired the dreaming stillness of her smile, enhanced by the vacant stare.

– Ok. You can speak, now. How does it feel to be a bitch?

– Lightheaded… and happy.

– And aren’t you horny?

– Yes… this bitch is horny, too.

David scratched her chin and then patted her head.

– Doesn’t it bother you to be humiliated like this?

– The only thing that bothers this bitch now is… thinking… thoughts have sharp edges… they hurt me so deep inside…

Sally’s voice trembled in grief.

– Well, it seems you need either urgent psychiatric therapy or a good fuck. What do you prefer bitch?

– Don’t call the vet, master… this horny bitch is made for breeding… just fuck the rest of my brain out of my head…

– My? What does “my” means?

– Sorry master… it… it was so to say…

– Nothing in the world is yours: you’re mine, bitch. And, by the way, you infringed my specific order to speak of yourself in third person. I think you need a good spanking, and then a rough fuck.

– As you prefer, master.

– Don’t move: push up the ass and lean the head on the floor.

Always in all fours, Sally complied. David fondled her round ass and then smacked it down with open hand, printing on the skin the red mark of his five fingers.

– Ghhh…

– Say thank you to me, bitch, for your training.

– Thank you for taming your bitch, master. 

– Well, five slaps will be enough, for now.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

Sally gave out some cries of pain, but obediently thanked David, blow after blow. At the end, he gently caressed her reddened and sensitive ass-cheeks, sending shivers of pleasure along her spine to her pliable mind.

– You’re very obedient, bitch. You’re worthy of a good ass-fuck.

He removed the anal plug and positioned himself over her, letting some spit fall down from of his mouth to the cleavage between her ass-chicks. He soaked his right forefinger and redirected the spittle in the hole.

– Relax and make pressure on your bowel as if pushing out a stool.

– Yes master.

David slid his forefinger into her anus; next he replaced it with a thumb and after a while with two fingers. Sally tensed up a bit, but slowly gave in to the intrusion. When he sensed her sphincter relaxing, David withdrew his finger and spitted in the dilated rosebud. Finally, he kneeled behind her and leaned the tip of his erect cock to her anus, pushing in.

– Ghh… it hurts!

– Push out with your bowel, bitch! Push!

At a snail’s pace, David’s shaft entered Sally’s ass on display. The woman wept with pain, but didn’t try to turn away or disjoint. When all the cock was inside woman’s rectum, David paused a while, remaining still to allow her ass to accept its whole length.

– How does it feel, bitch, to have master’s cock in the ass?

– It’s… it’s too big, master… it’s splitting this bitch in two…

– Oh, well, don’t worry, bitch. You’ll get used to my fat cock. Am I bigger that your husband?

– Yes… yes of course, master. Frank is… ooohhh

David started to lightly move his erect penis, grabbing the globes of her ass with both hands.

– Is it starting to feel good?

– Yes…

She lied: the pain was still severe, but as if a strange magic had set in motion through her body, within few seconds she gradually began to feel better and better. She sensed herself melting inside and a tingling sensation spread forward to her pussy and up to her whole abdomen.

– Tell me you like this, bitch.

– Yes!!

This time she screamed a more convincing reply. Meanwhile, the enjoyable sensation in her belly built up to pure bliss, as if all her sexual nerves were overridden by pleasure: pain was completely gone, replaced by turmoil of carnal energy and mental abandon. The sexual frenzy made her scream like a banshee: it seemed that a never-ending explosion was going on in her pelvis, tearing down the wall between rectum and vagina.

– Yes!! Yeeesss! Yeeeeeeesss! Fuck my ass!!! Fuck my ass!!!

David slapped her hard and rebuked her with wavering voice, due to the thrusting. 

– It’s not your ass… It’s mine… bitch…

The sensations in Sally’s body had reached a blissful plateau: she forgot where she was, what she was doing and who she was… she had never been so close to ecstasy! She moaned, barked, howled and spoke primitive phonemes, floating in an orgasmic trance which took form apart from time and space.

– Look at this ass… it’s almost sucking me off! That’s… fantastic!

Sally was too lost in the unique intensity of her pleasure to answer anything. David sped up his thrusts and slapped her ass again and again: each slap sent a new jolt of electricity all the way through the woman’s deranged nervous system, amplifying her every sensation.

– I want you to cum, bitch! … cum harder then ever… cum!!

With a simultaneous trust and slap, David broke Sally’s plateau and she derailed a train of intense, multiple orgasms. He felt her body quake all over climaxing endlessly for almost a minute, while her ass squeezed on his cock several times. When lastly she collapsed unconscious on the floor, the jerk given to his cock by the slipping away of her anus, triggered his orgasm too and she ejaculated on her naked back.

Silence.

David took large gulps of air for a bit, then hardly rose to his feet and sat down on the couch. On the floor, Sally was now breathing quietly, still unconscious: he admired her curvilinear silhouette… her soft abandon emphasized the delicate sexiness of her well proportioned body. David felt his true love for her resurfacing to his mind: why did he treat her like that? Yes… it was self-evident she liked it, but why did he indulged the urge to dominate her so roughly? He enjoyed Sally’s humiliation! What sort of pervert was he, too? Looking at her tender and defenseless body, he felt bound to protect her and take care of her future life. As he had been sheltered by her wing when he first entered FDI, she was now under his responsibility: poor Sally, he admitted, what a downfall from my sergeant to my slave bitch!

He stood up and kneeled near her, pushing aside a lock of her now blonde hair: she was beautiful. He caressed her soft cheek and woke her up with a kiss.

X. Jump together

– You’ve got to get a grip on yourself, Sally. And I… I have to control myself too.

– Don’t worry, master. I’m happy with you.

– Please, stop it for a second, Sally: we’re not playing master and servant at the moment!

– I’m not playing master: I’m your obedient slave to my very soul.

– See it? When you were sleeping on the nude floor, some minutes ago, I suddenly realized that something strange was going on inside my head. I care of you and… and I love you, Sally… and on the contrary I’m treating you as an animal! How can I be aroused by abusing and tormenting you?

– Since when pure bliss is called ‘tormenting’, master?! I’ve enjoyed every bit of it… and you don’t have to worry about me. Just order me what to do and I will be very pleased to obey. This horny bitch is yours to play with… it’s just a meat puppet. I need to be own and abused, master…

She ended the phrase regressing to her vacant and ecstatic stare.

– Stop it, Sally! You’re delirious! We’re both going crazy!

David jumped off the couch, pressing the palms on his temples. He went to the window and then resumed his argument with even more vehemence.

– Holy shit! Can’t you see we aren’t playing any more? This is no fucking game! It’s real life… and… and something is taking over me… and you…

– Take me anyway you like, master.

– Oh… fuck off!

– You can slap my ass again if you want to give vent to your anger, master.

He stormed in front of her, taking her by the shoulders and shaking strongly her still naked body.

– Look at yourself, Sally! Your make up is a mess, your face and back are filthy with dried cum, your hair are all ruffled up… you seem a psychiatric patient just escaped from a hospital!

– Master… sorry… you’re right… you deserve a better slave… this bitch is worth nothing…

She burst out in tears. David look at her with desperation: it appeared to be impossible to make her rationally analyze the situation. Within some minutes, her inconsolable crying amplified his sense of impotence and began to get on his nerves.

– Stop it! I say stop it now!!

Her distress was so deep that Sally wasn’t able to stop her tears, irritating him even more. Seized with anger, David forgot his good intention and the situation slipped again out of his hand. Something clicked in inside his head and the truth willed out in his mind: Sally was sad because of his weakness. He had to be a harder master, he must give in to his heavy-handed desires of dominating her for the benefit of everyone.

– I order you to stop and you’re better do it, bitch!

He slapped her face and Sally suddenly stifled her crying.

– Ok. And I want you to smile like a good puppet.

Sally complied, although some last mute tears were falling along her cheeks. With trembling voice, she managed to express her gratitude.

– Thank you, master… this bitch needs to be given a sound beating, sometimes… this bitch will never disappoint you again…

She fell on her knees and look upward to him with an adoring smile depicted on her face. He sat down again on the couch and switched the television on.

– Go the bathroom, recompose your clothing and refresh your make up. You can stand up.

Sally hurry up to obey: she picked up her clothes and dashed to the bathroom. David found a tennis match on SporTv and started to watch it absent-mindedly. After a while, the women reappeared in the living room.

– Wow! I’m not used yet to see you wearing whorish clothes… You’re really a wonderful piece of meat, slave.

– Thank you, master.

She stopped standing at attention nearby the television, and after a while she resumed her vacant stare.

– This meat puppet is yours to command.

– Come here and sit on the floor, near the couch.

David gazed at her docile movements, which appeared to be even more graceful and fascinating because of her steady smile and far away look. She was his to play with, and she was happy with it, so what the hell was his concern?

– What do you desire right now, slave?

Sally had to focus up a bit to answer: even thinking of her desires demanded a tiresome mental effort she didn’t want to carry on. She looked around as to reorient herself, while her smile somewhat fade: she was sitting on the floor, nearby her master… a tennis match was on the television… outside the window, the sun was setting down and… and the smell of master’s feet kicked in his mind. Completely shameless, she expressed her desire.

– I would like to sniff and lick your feet, master. 

– Uh? There’s no limit to your filthiness, slave, isn’t it?

– Yes master.

– Well… go along, then: I order you to lick my feet clean.

Sally brought David’s feet to her nose and buried her face in his socks: the soles were dirty since he had walked around in the apartment wearing them, but the smell was so arousing she didn’t matter at all. Her rapture was so evident that David interest grew quickly.

– You really like it, slave, don’t you?

– Yes master. The scent of your feet is so powerful…

Sally found the stink intoxicating: she gave out satisfied moans and breathed in deeper, letting it engulf her mind and her senses. David was surprised, but having sergeant Warrel dressed in sexy clothes worshipping his feet was without doubt exciting and it should be prodded on.

– Yes, smell my feet, slave… let the humiliation wash over you. Smelling my dirty feet makes you feel so good and whorish. You’re a filthy and depraved whore, aren’t you slave?

– Yesss mater…

Sally’s senses where over-excited and she instinctually closed her eyes to better savor the sweet and blissful aroma hitting her nose. She smelled and kissed the socks, staining them with her red lipstick.

– Open your eyes, slave! I want you to look at me while you worship my feet.

David had succumbed once more to his domineering cravings: the more he was crude, the more he felt properly aroused by the dazed and submissive look on Sally’s face. It was really wonderful!

– Take off the socks and lick my feet clean, slave.

– Yes… master…

Sally was incredibly horny again: the feet’s stink seemed to act on her as a strong aphrodisiac and simply touching the naked skin of her master’s feet with her tongue was almost able to push her on the verge of climax. David heard her breath becoming hard and dampened her zeal.

– Don’t you dare cum without my explicit permission, slave. Am I clear?

– Ghhhhh… yes… masssterrr.

– Lick my feet all over, I want to see them gleaming with your saliva.

Sally eagerly complied: master’s feet tasted like heaven to her. She licked the soles and sucked at each toe. David was now enjoying the worship and bite off more than he can chew.

– Push your tongue between my toes and clean the jam within.

She complied as if it was the most arousing thing she could be asked to do, but David turned out to be half loathed and half aroused by Sally’s mindless worship: her disgusting humiliation tickled again his sense of guilt and he pushed away roughly her tongue from his feet.

– That’s… that’s gross! We both have gone crazy… oh my god, oh my god…

Sally fell backward and David stood up from the couch, but she promptly jumped once more to his feet and threw herself down flat on the floor to resume her licking.

– Sally! Stop it now!

She didn’t obey, enslaved by her own frenzy obsession and in a split second David’s anger boosted up so powerfully that it swept away his every guilt and empathy. He made two long steps and caught up his socks from the floor. Sally crawled disappointed behind him, trying to seize his feet, her unfocused eyes lacking any sign of intelligence. David sat down on the couch again and tried to wear his socks, but Sally’s doggedness made it a very difficult job. 

– Ok, that’s enough, slave! You’re annoying me… And look! You’ve stained my socks all over with your red lipstick!

He made a ball with his socks, took hold of her hair immobilizing her head, and stuffed both socks into Sally’s mouth. She didn’t resist and took them in willingly, calming down a bit.

– You stupid bitch! I want you to suck all the dirt out of my socks like a good slave. Keep on sucking them until I tell you to stop!

Sally resumed her far away look and eagerly obeyed, sucking dutifully on the socks. David let himself sink down on the couch and ruminated on the clear evidence that things were taking a turn for the worse. Were they both dammed to be doctor Mallory’s meat puppets or was there yet a way out of this nightmare? He sadly sensed there wasn’t. ‘I’m trapped... We’re both trapped in this blind alley. Sally, oh Sally! I’m not able to control myself and your brain appears to be completely fried up. Playing along seems not only natural, but also deeply arousing, while struggling is getting harder and harder. Actually, I’m hard again…’ A weak smile depicted on his face as he dreamily stroked his cock in front of his kneeling slave. ‘Oh my God… can’t you see it Sally? My mind is betraying me in the same way your mind has fucked you up. We’re hostage of our twisted minds and nobody can help us: it’s just me and you… the rest of the world is out… they will never understand! Holy shit… I love you and… and… but I helped doctor Mallory to lose you! If anybody will unveil my fault I will be sent to jail and they’ll throw away the key! I will never forgive myself… will you ever be able to forgive me? And is there anything that I can do now to help you, Sally?’ His mind answered that he should simply conform to his master duties and dominate her, so that she would be happy. ‘She craves for it and she deserves it. Slave Sally Warrel is my erotic dream come true and it’s my right to use and humiliate her… no… no… No! I’ve got to shake us both out of this nightmare, slave… we need a hard-wearing shock to recover, to break this spell!’ He looked around and saw the last gleam of light outside the window. The sun had just set down. An idea crossed his mind and he resolved that it was probably the very last trick up his sleeve… yes… and although it was dangerous, he should take the risk before succumbing to their final downfall.

– Slave! Stand up and jump out of the window!

– Eerr, aaeerrr…

Sally stood up, located the target and slowly walked towards the window continuing to suck the socks. David felt some drops of cold sweat forming on his forehead. He shuddered at Sally acquiescence: was it ever possible that she obeyed his order and threw herself outside the window?! No… it couldn’t be true! He clenched his fists and teeth and chose to wait in nervous silence. Sally reached the window and opened it. David was screaming in his mind: ‘Freeze! Stop! Sally… please… I will not stop you, you have to snap out of it! Break the spell! God, please… Sally!!’

The woman slowly climbed on the window sill. One foot. The other one. Her faint smile didn’t fade at all. In the very last moment, David was struck by the clear awareness that she was undoubtedly going to jump... he know it for sure: she was going to kill herself just because he had ordered it! Suddenly, he screamed out loud and run like hell to the window.

– Freeze!!!! Sally! Slave! Stooop!! Don’t do it!!!!!

Sally vacillated. She had already placed both feet on the window sill and she was taking the fling to jump. Puzzled by the conflicting orders screamed by her master, she finally lost her balance. It was only due to David’s desperate rush if she didn’t fall out of the window: he caught her by a wrist and pulled her inside. A second later and she would have smashed her head on the asphalt of the street.

– Oh my God… Sally!

He embraced her and removed the socks from her mouth. However, while David was visibly shivering and scared to death, Sally was more confused that frightened.

– Sally… tell me something!

– Who is Sally, master? Do you want this bitch to look for her?

– Ok, that’s enough!

He slapped her face, and then dragged her by the hair into the shower; next, he turned on the water, setting the mixer at the coldest temperature: the spurt of water seemed to clear up a bit the woman’s mind.

– Gllubb… master… please! It’s cold… glouubb… you’re drowning me!

– Call me David and I’ll turn off the water.

– Please… David… stop it…

David was not only satisfied, but somewhat aroused by the forced shower he had bucket down on Sally: at least she had called him with his name. Since Sally’s hair and clothes were totally wet, he offered her a towel and his bathrobe.

– Take off your clothes and dry yourself. The hair dryer is in the first drawer.

– Yes m… David.

He went back to the living-room and returned to watch the tennis match on SporTv, waiting for her. A quarter of hour later, Sally joined him on the couch, embracing him. She had applied again her make up, but she was still wearing only his bath-robe. They remained in silence for some minutes, until she spoke with trembling voice.

– Thank you David… but this bitch prefers to call you master. Can it call you this way?

– No. As long as I won’t command you otherwise, I order you to call me David and to refer to yourself as Sally.

– Yes David.

He looked at her with despair: her words sighed ‘David’, but her pose and tone of voice screamed ‘master’. He hardly kept under control the desire to spank her soundly because of her… absolute obedience.

– So… what can we do, now?

– Anything you want, David.

David grunted with mounting anger: his ‘dream come true’ was melting in his mind, soaking his grey matter in a nightmarish slime.

– Haven’t you got enough of this awful comedy? Don’t you realize you’ve almost jumped out of the window?!

– Yes David, Sally knows it and will do it again, if you want.

– Speak in fist person, Christ!

– Yes David.

– So, what do you have to say about it?

– Nothing. I knew that if I was worth of it, you would have saved me... and if I wasn’t worth of it, it was right for me to die.

– This is crazy! Aren’t you afraid to die?

– Well, I’m not exactly a living organism. Death is unimportant to me: I’m a meat puppet, David, just a meat puppet… your meat puppet.

– Marvelous…

David was depressed. Sally let one of her wonderful tits peep out of the bath robe, and lean forward to kiss him.

Driiiiiiiing! The door-bell was ringing.

– Who the hell could it be?

– My husband, perhaps.

– Go open the door, slav… I mean, Sally.

– Yes David.

She walked barefoot to the door of the apartment and pick up the house-phone.

– Who is it?

– Captain Stickney. Is that Sally?

– Yes captain.

– There’s also Frank here with me. He’s very worried. Can we come upstairs?

– I’ll go ask David.

David nodded and Sally pushed the button which unlocked the gate of the main entrance of the building; then she added some instructions about the floor.

– Fourth floor, block of flats C.

The arrival of captain Stickney triggered red alert code in David’s mind and stirred up his programming: he shouldn’t allow Stickney to discover his role in Sally’s brainwashing and to institute proceedings against him. Moreover, Sally was his slave now and nobody would ever take her away from him.

– Don’t worry, slave. Follow my moves and everything is gonna be alright.

– Yes David.

A minute later, Stickney entered the apartment, followed by Frank. David addressed him with arrogance.

– Why are you looking so dismal, Frank?

Before Frank could answer, captain Stickney took control of the situation.

– Agent Radcliff, don’t annoy Sally’s husband. Sergeant Warrel, what’s going on here?

David’s replied gesturing Sally to silence.

– Sergeant Warrel is going to give her resignation from FDI: you don’t have any authority over her, captain.

– Is that true, sergeant?

– Yes captain Stickney.

– New hairstyle, I see. You dye your hair platinum blonde and you’re… wearing a bath-robe that clearly isn’t yours.

– Yes captain Stickney.

– You’ve nothing more to say than ‘yes captain Stickney’, Sally?

Frank’s face was pale and torn. Sally crossed his look and felt very sorry for him: he had been her beloved husband for so many years and now she was making him suffer to death.

– I’m sorry, Frank. I didn’t want to make you suffer like this.

– You didn’t?!?? It’s all the evening we’re trying to get in contact with you! I phoned you a thousand times and captain Stickney phoned David, too, but your mobile phones were both unreachable!! Three patrols are seeking you in the streets and… and you both are here to indulge yourselves. If you have the gut, now tell me… you’ve just fucked him, haven’t you?

Captain Stickney interrupted the arguing.

– Frank, please. We’re not here to brawl. I’m trying to understand what’s going on.

David laughed and answered.

– On my god, Captain… even Frank has understood the situation! I thought you were far more perspicacious.

Captain Stickney remained flawlessly calm and icy, asking for more details.

– Agent Radcliff, can you please tell us how long have you and Sally been lovers?

– It’ll be four years the next month. Am I right, Sally?

– Yes David.

Stickney asked Frank for corroboration.

– Did you know or anyhow suspected it, Frank?

– That… that can’t be true. We… Sally and I… have always been a faithful and happy couple until yesterday… until her last mission!

– Quiet, Frank: don’t jump to the conclusion, please.

Captain Stickney took a pause and thought about it, then resumed his questioning.

– What Frank is saying could be true, Sally. You seem a completely different person to me.

David laughed again, interrupting him.

– It’s amazing how much a different hairstyle can affect our opinion…

– Agent Radcliff, your sarcasm is out of place. Please, let Sally answer to me… Sally, you have always been proud and content about your work in FDI. You are the more qualified sergeant in my department, and suddenly you decide to resign, throwing away half of your life. Isn’t it strange? In addition, your current behavior doesn’t fit at all with the strong willed, determined person I knew. Have something really bad happened to you during last mission?

– I… no… nothing happened. Nothing!

David put an end to his prudence, deciding to lay his cards on the table.

– Ok. Stop tormenting her: Sally is shattered by Frank’s aggression today at midday, when she told him she doesn’t love him any more. Her last five years of marriage have been pure affliction for her, but now she have decided to divorce and come to live with me. Sally, tell captain Stickney that I’m telling the truth.

– Yes captain. David will take care of me and, finally, I will be happy.

Frank was flabbergasted and became even paler.

– Sal… that can’t be true… can’t be… they did something to you! I love you and… and I was sure you loved me too!

David winked at captain Stickney, closing the meeting.

– I bet Frank didn’t tell anything to you, captain: he’s mad with jealousy and he would do anything to have her back. I bet he also didn’t told you he forced Sally to fuck him in the ass with a dildo, otherwise he couldn’t cum. Confirm what I’m saying, Sally.

– Yes, I confirm.

– So, captain, if now you can please left our apartment, Sally has to prepare me a good dinner...

Frank lost his temper and tried to jump at David’s neck.

– You scum, you make up this story from start to finish. Don’t believe him!

Captain Stickney held him back.

– Frank, be quiet. It seems that Sally confirmed all of his words.

– They brainwashed her, can’t you see it?

– I’m not brainwashed, I’m twisted.

Frank disentangled from Stickney’s grip and attacked David. Before he could even touch him, David sent him to the ground with a punch. Stickney take up the cudgels for Frank.

– Agent Radcliff! That wasn’t necessary at all: you could easily overpower him without hurting him. You will be held responsible for it.

– Accuse me, and I will sue you for house-breaking: I don’t think you have a search warrant, captain.

– No, we haven’t it… but surely I have to re-evaluate your position in the FDI.

– Do as you like, captain, but Sally is mine.

Captain Stickney looked at Sally with concern, trying to understand if David’s claim of property was upsetting her. Nothing: Sally’s stare remained almost blank and that was really strange. His instinct tells him that, even Sally had confirmed David’s words, his agent was lying.

– Agent Radcliff, I don’t believe you. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing so far, but surely you can’t hope to fool me. Right now, it’s evident to me that Sally needs psychological assistance. She will come home with us: Sally, put on your clothes and…

– Don’t do anything, Sally! Don’t do anything unless I order you to do it!

– Yes, mas… David.

– Mmmm… the simple fact you’re giving orders to sergeant Warrel, corroborates my suspects. Sally, I think you’re not safe in here, with him. Come home with us and tomorrow we will take you to the hospital. 

Frank reinforced captain Stickney’s invitation.

– Please, Sally. I’m terribly worried for you. I don’t know why you confirmed David’s lies, but I love you and I can forgive your every fault, if any. Come with us.

David was getting nervous.

– Sally, tell them you’ll stay with me forever.

– Yes David, I’m happy with you and I will stay with you forever.

Captain Stickney noticed again the incoherence between Sally’s speaking and her vacant stare. He decided it was time to try the hard way.

– Sergeant Warrel, I order you to dress and come with us.

David burst out a long and almost hysterical laughing, scoffing at captain Stickney.

  

– You can’t order her anything, captain. She is my slave, now. Tell them who is your master, Sally.

– You’re my only master, David.

Icy silence shivered in the air: Sally’s words frozen Frank’s blood with horror. Captain Stickney remained speechless, breaking into cold blood too. David savored his crazy triumph and decided to support his claims with some more evidences.

– On your knees, slave.   

Frank screamed a desperate ‘no!’, but Sally was already dutifully kneeling nearby David, who patted her head and went on his show.

– You see it? She’s my slave and she like it. Isn’t it true, Sally?

– Yes it is, master.

– Now throw out your tongue and pant like the bitch you are.

Sally obeyed. Frank was at the verge of tears.

– Oh my God… oh my Gowwd…

– Poor husband, you weren’t man enough to give her what she wanted, that is, some good spanking and a rough fuck.

Sally remained motionless, while her dreaming smile certified her unconditioned acceptance of her final humiliation. Captain Stickney tried one last assault.

– Sergeant Warrel… if Radcliff is blackmailing or somehow controlling you, don’t be afraid to tell me. I guarantee we’ll help you!

– She doesn’t need anybody’s help: this twisted slut has always been a masochist and ever since we started fucking, many years ago, she always loved to be used and humiliated. She’s my slave by her free choice: tell it to them, slave  

– Yes, that is true: David is the only one who understood how much I needed all this.

– See, captain? Now, out of my house or I’ll call the cops.

Captain Stickney capitulated: although David was probably manipulating Sally, he hadn’t any authority to coerce the woman out of his apartment. 

– Ok… but it doesn’t end like this, be sure.

– I beg to differ, captain. You can’t do anything: she is my compliant slave and sexual preferences amongst adults are not a law issue. Are you planning to take legal action against us for obvious sadomasochism?

Captain Stickney foamed with rage, but put up with it.

– Let’s go, Frank. We’ll see what we can do.

– You’re not speaking seriously, captain. We can’t leave her here!

David renewed his cruelty.

– Give in, Frank, she is mine to play with and you can’t do anything to save her. Slave, tell him you’re my cum dump.

– I’m your cum dump, master.

Frank was so far beyond hope that didn’t react to David’s sadistic parade. He focused on Sally, trying to evoke a sparkle of life from her eyes.

– The adoption, Sally, think of it! We desired so much to have a child, but we weren’t able to conceive. So we resolved for adoption, do you remember? And now, after years of stamped papers, training courses, psychologists, long waits and so on… now we were almost there! You were enthusiastic when two weeks ago the CIFA’s supervisor told us that it was matter of few months!

Sally’s stare gave some sign of liveliness. She appeared somewhat disoriented: she looked at David, than at Frank, and then at David again. Her hands displayed a soft trembling.

– I… I’m… so…

– Be quiet slave. That ugly man just wants to make you suffer painful thoughts, but I order you to relax and to do only what you are good at: suck my big, fat cock.

With a last struggling, Sally looked lovingly at Frank, but then slowly turned to David and unzipped his fly, taking his penis into her mouth. Frank was almost fainting. Captain Stickney held him up and carried him out of the apartment.

David took breath, enjoying the blow-job, and some minutes later ordered his slave to dress up and go to cook him something. Before exiting the room, Sally asked her master.

– Do you think they’ll come back, master?

– I don’t think so. Anyway, they have neither legal issues nor conclusive evidences against us.

XI. Epilogue

– How many bucks tonight?

– One thousands and six hundred, master.

– Very good whore. Give me the money and take a shower: you stink of cum.

– Yes master.

David looked at her ass while he walked away.

– Freeze, slave! Turn around and show me your hooters: you know I never get enough of them.

– Yes, master.

Sally put on display her surgically augmented breasts: her melons were huge and hung over her thin waist, almost pulling her off balance. David reflected that even if they cost him a fortune, they were worth the expense and should be viewed as a profitable investment on future business. Her lips had also been puffed-up with collagen, and they turned out so fat she couldn’t even close them: they softly depicted a small “o”, as if inviting and welcoming cocks to find a way toward her throat.

By all means, Sally now resembled very much an inflatable love-doll.

– You’re my ditzy Barbie doll, aren’t you?

– Yes master.

She giggled and charmingly curled up a forelock of platinum hair. Her intelligence had slowly but steadily declined in the last months: the brain damage set in motion by doctor Mallory had proceeded like a brakeless car in slight descent, slowly rolling downhill her IQ, which was now probably less than half her previous one. David noticed that it looked as if her twisted mind had been compelled to suit with her new bimbo self.

– What do you think of your boobies?

– I like big boobies, they’re, like, so sexy and bouncy!

– You’re a very good piece of meat, slave: no wonder you’re now one of the most sought-after hooker in this part of town.

David’s job as her pimp was going just fine. He had rented a two-room apartment some flats ahead and converted it in a mini-brothel where Sally could have her sexual encounters with her clients. Compared to his previous work in FDI, David’s new occupation was far less risky and much more remunerative, and his spare time massively increased, too... Moreover, thanks to his previous work, he had many acquaintances both in the police force and in the criminal racket, so nobody would probably dare to hinder his business.

– After the shower I want you put on your collar and became my bitch. You’ll sleep nearby the couch, on the floor, as usual.

– Yes master. This bitch is, like, very tired because it was fucked all night long.

He jokingly slapped her ass, sending her to take the shower. Sally turned back, blinked her dolly eyes fluttering her false extra-lengthy eyelashes and blew him a compliant kiss with thick red lips. Entering the bathroom, she said a ditzy ‘hello me’ to her reflection in the mirror and took off her scant sexy clothes, getting into the shower-box. When she placed her manicured hand on the mixer to open the water, she marveled at her shiny crimson nails. Was it her hand? For a few seconds she stared at the hand, feeling in her bones that something was awfully wrong. Nevertheless, before any further rationalization could take place in her head, the alien hand moved by itself, caught the shower-gel bottle and rubbed it over her curvaceous body. In a moment, both hands were foaming and fondling her sensitive skin. The sensation was so pleasant, that she didn’t have the nerve to push away the hands which were assaulting her. She let them play along, while water was already washing away her every thought.

Ten minutes later, she got out of the shower-box crawling on all four. She wore her collar and looked around with just one question resounding in her mind: ‘Where the hell this silly bitch had left her tail, yesterday evening?’ Fortunately, after a brief search, she found her anal plug.

(The End)

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