Just relax and look at the light
Standing in the room surrounded by several men, Vanessa wondered what was going to happen. One of the men smiled and showed her a remote control with a big red button. She gasped, her heart racing. If he pressed the button...
There was no time to think about it. He pressed the button. A wave of lust swept through her mind. She docily got on her hands and knees and crawled over to the man with the remote, the one who now controlled her. She ran her hands over his cock, gently rubbing it until it stood up on its own. She then took it into her mouth and began to suck him off. Her mind was mostly blank now, save for the pleasure of feeling his cock react in the predicted fashion, rewarding her with its fluid.
She crawled to the next man and prepared to service him.
Three months had passed since she had, in her own way, chosen to stay. Things weren’t a total paradise inside her mind yet, but she had gotten to the point where bad days were the exception rather then the rule.
She was socializing more for starters. Keri, a fellow slave who had been a painter in her past life had seen Vanessa sketching some of the trees that dotted the courtyard. She approached and turned on her bubbly personality, initially to the chagrin of Vanessa who had always found bubbly people to be annoying. However, Keri persisted and as time went on and her own spirits lifted, Vanessa started talking with her. Just yesterday Keri had helped her make her first painting.
As foreseen by Doug, her handler, the road to where she was now hadn’t been smooth. Her first full fledged hypno session stripped away her outer personality shell and emotional control, leaving only her core personality with nothing to hide her true feelings. She emerged from the session as a sad, needy girl who clung to Doug’s side and cried frequently.
She spent days in this state where many truths were revealed, including the nature of her “resistance” during her first two weeks. She hadn’t really been resisting at all. She had just been making a lot of noise and posturing as best as she could. When she stopped eating she was really saying “I am this broken! How committed are you to fixing me?!”
For the longest time she had pinned her problems on her experiences in the army, but spending time without the complex suppression system in her mind that she had spent years building, it eventually dawned on her that what happened in the war was just the push that was needed to bring down the already teetering structure of her mental health.
Long buried demons from her past had been resurrected. Her parents fighting, her mother abandoning her, her being teased at school because she was a late bloomer, the first time she had had sex which was embarrassing and painful, and finding out that her mother had been arrested for drug possession.
The second hypno session saw the restoration of her emotional control. What followed were long talks with her handler where she confessed many things, including how much she needed him and how she needed a structure to help anchor herself, which was one of the reasons she had joined the army. These talks eventually progressed to the exploration of her sexual fetishes.
It was late at night when Vanessa picked the lock and escaped from her holding cell. She was gonna make a break for it. One of the trusted slaves had taped the latch on the door to the office areas, preventing it from locking. She quietly snuck into the minimum security wing. A guard, a young woman dressed in little more then a bikini was patrolling the hall. Vanessa ducked behind an open door and waited for her to pass. Then the way was free and clear! She made a run for the exit. She got to the door, opened it and alarms sounded. She heard footfalls behind her and hightailed it double time. The footfalls got closer, closer. A man in a white uniform came out of nowhere and grabbed her. They soon had her pinned to the ground.
She saw a glimpse of the needle before it sank into her arm.
When she woke up, she saw that she was in one of the slave conversion chambers. She felt the sensation of being anally filled and knew they were pumping the drugs into her. The drugs that would turn her into a happy obedient slave and keep any thoughts of resistance or escape at bay. She came hard and there wasn’t even a vibrator inside her.
That was one of the test role play scenarios they had done. It confirmed that she liked resistance and escape fantasies where she got caught and “punished”. Much to her delight, she found that they could and did set up scenarios involving slaves and their owners, the slave or slaves given a hypnotic trigger to make them believe it was really happening.
Anything involving physical body control, filling, and restraint got her turned on or at least interested. The experience of her force feeding had shown her what it was like to be controlled on such a deep, intimate level and how much pleasure could be derived from it.
The third hypno session added personality adjustments, and saw the implantation of several more hypnotic triggers. Afterward they began doing sexual role play scenarios and training sessions with her.
Being put into a position of deep submission usually resulted in her slipping into a kind of trance, a variant of the subspace trance where she would become very calm and attuned to what was going on in her body. That trance was a product of her own mind, not something they had added. However being put into trances quickly became a secondary fetish of hers and hypnotic triggers were frequently used when she was servicing other men. That remote with the big red button didn’t really do anything. Even knowing that and knowing she had hypnotic triggers planted in her mind did nothing to lessen the effects of the trance. A simple trigger and she could become someone else for awhile. It was interesting to say the least.
Now, sitting outside and enjoying a lazy Spring afternoon, she felt peaceful and pretty stable mentally. A lot of that could be attributed to the man who had calmly tolerated all the shit she had thrown at him, and who was now her lover as well as her handler. Every night in the apartment they shared, he’d be there. Every morning when she woke up, he was there. He and the facility become her anchor, helping to keep her grounded and stable.