Enslaving The Self—Chapter Six
The young woman remained kneeling, letting herself wallow a little in the warmth of her own obedience. But even this knowledge wasn’t enough to quieten her ruminations. Worse still, the quiet mechanical voice continued its monotonous chant in the background, reminding her that there was a short circuit and that she should still wait while it tried to make a connection.
Sara tried to suppress her frustration, all she wanted was to stop worrying about things for a while, to let someone else take control. She felt a sense of profound sadness then, she had tried her best to fix the problem, even collaring herself in the hope that she might become a better slave. But in the end, she had failed. There seemed no other recourse now. She had to tell her Master about the problem, and beg him to solve it.
“Warning”, announced the voice, “Critical Failure imminent!”
She had left it too late. The realisation came to her as the net began to shut down. Panic gripped her then, and in her desperation she forgot about alerting her Master. She could feel her perceptions warp, thoughts and ideas flared and died. Time slowed to a crawl, and Sara fought to hold on. Of course, she had no way of knowing that she was battling to retain the very changes that the net had made. In the end it made no difference, as the net ceased to function so to the programming broke down, eventually leaving Sara feeling almost completely herself for the first time since she had been captured.
Of course, such a sudden transition left the poor girl dazed and confused at first. The protective shell, which had been woven over her thoughts dissipated and Sara almost screamed out in horror as she realised what had been done to her, and what she had willingly done to herself. This last thought sent a tiny thrill through her body and mind, less potent that she had been experiencing, but still enough to force a sharp intake of breath.
She was stunned; it was all too much to cope with. She had been captured, the memory of the dart fresh in her mind. Then tricked somehow into using this <wonderful> Slave Net to enslave herself. All the subterfuge, the <sexy> <arousing> trickery. Just to <helplessly> trap her. But at least she had somehow managed to struggle free. Except of course she was still chained, <helpless> <bound> <trapped> by her own hand no less.
Sara took a moment to try to calm her racing thoughts. She knew that something was still influencing her, but was relieved that it seemed to be less effective than it had been before. For a moment the feeling of dazed arousal threatened to return, but she managed to fight it off before it took hold of her. She shuddered then, a mixture of revulsion and excitement, wanting to let go but knowing that if she did so she might never return to “normal”.
Instinctively she knew that the laboratory would not be locked. After all, a <good> girl like her would not be expected to leave unless told to do so. Sara chided herself for so quickly falling back into that way of thinking. She did not plan to be anybodies girl, good or otherwise, and certainly not someone who had kidnapped her, <captured her> <sexually enslaved her> <bound her, body and mind>. The young woman moaned softly, fighting back the feelings her conflicting thoughts engendered. She was torn between the idea of running (or perhaps more accurately hobbling slowly) away from this place and seeking outside help, or just kneeling back down <submissively> and touching herself until <wonderful> Master came back and fixed whatever was wrong. She hated herself for even thinking that last thought, terrified by how powerful the very thought of Master was.
Steeling herself, Sara rose from the floor and began to walk towards the exit. She knew that it leaded out into the servant’s quarters and she was pretty sure that from there she would be able to find her way to the main hall. The chains slowed her movement, and she winced with each step at the jangling noise they made. Somehow her bondage seemed to be a reminder of how captive she really had been <how captive she still was>.
It was only when she left entered the main part of the house that the computer noticed her presence. Its first response was to interrogate the net and find out what was happening. The computer registered something akin to surprise when it was unable to communicate. After checking the logs it was obvious that the connection had been lost sometime ago, very soon after the party in fact.
“Where are you going slave?” it boomed.
Sara flinched, feeling the weight of those words pressing down upon her. She had to steady herself against a wall, in order to keep from dropping to her knees again. The captive fought against the conditioning. She tried to move faster, but almost succeeded in tripping herself when her feet became entangled in the short chain. Her thoughts kept drifting back to obedience and pleasure and it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus.
Buried deep inside the young girl’s mind, lurked the remnants of the “Slave 101” program. This now responded to her Master’s voice, encouraging her to behave appropriately, to be a good girl and to do what she was told. She knew that she had to fight, but on another level she also knew that she had to give in. After all, it was so nice to lose sometimes wasn’t it? It had felt so good being a helpless captive, and it was only when the net had stopped working that she had begun to feel bad.
“Kneel slave!” ordered the computer.
That was too much for Sara, despite her protests she found her body responding. She dropped onto the carpet, adopting the “ready” position and feeling the instant reward of pleasure. She tried to rise immediately, struggling to impose her will on her own body before finally pulling herself upright. The chains tinkled as she moved, reinforcing the fact that she was bound.
“Slave, return to the laboratory, NOW!”
The woman felt a moment of indecision, her own ambivalence adding strength to the command. She was being betrayed from within, part of her actually wanted the voice to win, wanted to give in, wanted to surrender. She turned obediently and took first one hesitant step and then another. Sara almost screamed then, using her anger to try to halt her own progress. The computer seemed to sense that she was faltering, even before her steps slowed.
“Slave, your Master commands, return to the laboratory, NOW!”
Sara whined as her pace quickened, bizarrely she seemed to have no difficulty negotiating the corridor while chained now. She continued to fight, even as her consciousness seemed to be receding once more, taking a back seat while her programming made sure she did as she was told. Each time she slowed, the computer merely commanded her again. Eventually Sara found herself back at the laboratory door.
“Slave, go inside”, the computer ordered, “seat yourself back in the chair, NOW!”
Each new command seemed more powerful than the last. She found that she wanted to do as she was told, that the balance had shifted. Now it seemed that something foreign was battling to stop her doing as she wished, rather than the reverse. Her resistance felt very small and weak. She walked stiffly through the door, closing it carefully behind her. Then, ignoring the tiny voice, which screamed its denial somewhere inside her head, she seated herself on the padded chair and let herself relax.
Something touched the side of her neck, just below the metal collar. For a moment nothing happened then she began to feel her muscles stiffening. She recognised the sensation, and knew that she had missed her chance to escape. In the precious moments it took for the venom to paralyse her mind, she both exulted in her subdual and railed against it. She was still locked in this dichotomy when her thoughts were finally stilled and peace overcame her.
The computer quickly identified the fault. The net had never been intended for “field work” and as such it was quite delicate. Once the bugs had been ironed out of the prototype, perhaps a more sturdy, yet aesthetically pleasing device could be fashioned. It was the work of minutes to replace the damaged circuits but it took its time anyway, checking to make sure there were no other malfunctions. Once the remote connection had been re-established, and the drug reservoir refilled, Sara could be plunged back into her virtual world.
It was a testament to her programming that even without the net she had been so delightfully compliant. Soon she would not have to wear the device at all, although her owner might enjoy the functions that the net could provide. However, the computer was still able to recognise how close to disaster it had come. It seemed prudent to delay the sale until it was sure that the merchandise was properly ready.