The Red-Haired Girl and the Machine
The girl with red hair stood perfectly at attention.
If anyone had been watching her, their eyes might have started with the way she stood. Feet shoulder-width apart, her nicely-toned stomach in, her perfectly-proportional breasts and ass out; her delicious curves undeniably on display.
Then their eyes would probably have drunk in her simple outfit, starting with the plain black triangle bikini top tied around the back of her neck somewhere beneath her slicked-back hair. Her breasts filled the top out nicely, just tight enough to leave the observer in no doubt as to how hard her nipples were.
Their eyes would have quickly travelled south, across her slowly rising-and-falling chest and her flat tummy to the barest scrap of matching black material that formed her bikini bottoms. No string bikini this; the elasticated waistband kept the fabric perfectly taut, showing off how smooth she had been shaven earlier in the day. With the choice of colour, any damp spot was almost impossible to spot, but the juices running down her thighs were evidence enough how deep her arousal was.
Her expression was utterly blank, her eyes vacant, showing no sign of any thought whatsoever within. Her glassy stare revealed how deeply she had been hypnotised, how utterly bound her mind was by whatever suggestions she had been given.
In her mind, all she saw was the ever-present spiral, swirling away with its simple repeating black and white pattern. The spiral held her helplessly in trance, sucking down any thoughts before they could be formed. She had tried to wake up when she had been ordered too, but the spiral’s power over her was total. Until it was removed, her mind would remain blank and obedient.
She wasn’t a person any more; she was a hypnotised fuckdoll waiting to be used.
Her mind could still remember her kidnapping; the lovely meal with the ever-so charming man she had met online recently, the white wine that had tasted funny for a second as it passed her deep red lips. Then it was her turn to feel funny, like she wasn’t herself, as he had lead her away from the restaurant to where his car had waited them for them both.
Throughout the journey to wherever he had taken her, she had sat passively in the passenger seat. Her fogged mind had understood that she had been drugged, but could do nothing about it. He had acted throughout with the supreme confidence that comes not from arrogance but long practice and experience. There was no hope for her that he would make a mistake of any kind.
Helplessly, she had followed him into the building. Cottage, house, mansion, castle … she had no idea where she was. The room he had taken her to was down, underneath the building. A basement dungeon full of all sorts of devilish devices. A place where no-one would hear her cries for help. Not that she could clear her head enough to make any sound at all without being told to.
The dress, black like the bikini she now wore, had come off without any resistance. Rather than have her strip herself in her drugged state, he had simply cut away her bra and panties with a knife that she had not seen. She had not worn hose or stockings to the restaurant, and her heels he had helped her kick off one foot after the other.
It was the cold bite of the steel that she had felt next, cold and cruel and without mercy as it had held her arms and legs out in a star shape. She had been laid down flat on her back, shackled into some sort of evil machine. With her sex exposed to the open air, she had never felt so vulnerable before, nor so aroused.
That had made the next part easier, as the machine had smoothly slid well-lubricated vibrators into her body both front and back. The shock of the double penetration had helped clear her mind a bit, as the drugs had begun to wear off at last. At home, she hadn’t ever felt the need for a battery-operated boyfriend, never mind a smaller version too, and even during her most drunken romps had never let a man take her in the ass.
But as the machine had begun to slide both intrusions in and out of her, her body had betrayed her. Maybe it was the predicament, her helpless torment. Or maybe it was that the machine had been perfected to play her body like a finely-tuned instrument. It hadn’t mattered. Even before the helmet had been lowered over her head, she had begun to thrash and strain against her bonds, not out of a need to escape, but out of a need for release.
Ah, the helmet! It had slid down onto her head so easily that at first, lost in the lust that the machine was creating within her, she hadn’t even noticed it. The built-in headphones had nestled perfectly onto her ears, blocking out all sound save that which the machine chose to grant her. The visor had robbed her completely of her vision, leaving her in darkness at first. The mask, settling gently over her nose and mouth, had quickly started to fill her lungs with who knew what sort of gas. There had been a gentle lapping sensation on her clit and stretched cunny lips too, as if someone was skilfully but robotically licking her exposed sex to heighten her arousal still further.
Then the spiral had appeared, somehow projected onto the inside of the visor. The voice had whispered into her ears, telling her to look deep into the centre of the spiral. Telling her how the spiral was capturing her gaze, how she was staring deeper into the spiral. The spiral had spun round and round, so pretty before her eyes. So pretty, so captivating. It had begun to pull her her deeper in, and that was when she had started to relax down into the merciless grip of the machine. Pulled deeper and deeper in, as even the excellent efforts of the machine to stimulate her holes had started to fade from her awareness.
“Black and white spiral, turning round and round, in perfect timing with your breathing,” the voice in her ears had whispered. “Feel yourself falling into the spiral with every breath, falling into the spiral as it turns round and round.”
She had felt herself falling, falling, falling.
“Feel the spiral pulling you in, holding your attention, fixing your gaze, fixing your thoughts. Pulling you in.”
She had felt herself being pulled deep into the spiral, helplessly, with nowhere else to look and nothing else to think of to help her escape it.
“Staring into the spiral, looking for the centre, as it turns and turns around you, filling your vision. Pulling you in, falling into the spiral with every breath, as it turns and turns before you.”
She had felt that she had passed the point of no escape, that the spiral had her now, and that she was helpless before it.
“Falling deeper now, deeper into the spiral. This wonderful swirly spiral, hypnotising you with every turn, hypnotising you with every breath.”
She had known that she was being hypnotised, that she was being helplessly entranced. Even as her mind had started to go heavy and sleepy, her cunny had started to leak more and more.
“The spiral has you in its power now, falling into the spiral with every breath. Deeper into the spiral now, falling deeper,
“deeper,
“deeper,
“deeper,
“your eyes glazing over, your expression growing blank, your jaw completely relaxing, as the spiral pulls you in … into trance … with every breath … falling deeper still.”
Yes, she had wanted to go deeper then, her mind already open and suggestive as she was guided down into a deeper trance by the voice whispering in her ears.
“Deeper still … deeper still … deeper still …”
“Hypnotising … hypnotising … hypnotising …”
“Hypnotised … hypnotised … hypnotised … by the spiral spinning before your eyes.”
There had been a pause, as the owner of the voice had let her mind adjust to the sensation of being deep in trance. She had been too far gone to notice it, her sense of time completely all at sea as she drifted, waiting … waiting …
Then the voice had taken her deeper still, much deeper, to a place where it had been able to whisper new truths to her. Her body drugged and thoroughly aroused, her mind tranced and helpless, she had melted so completely as the voice softly but firmly rewrote her very thoughts.
Finally, before she had been released from the machine, the spiral had been fixed into her mind, where it would continue to control her forever, where she could never escape it no matter how far she ran. Then she had been prepared and dressed, before being led over to where she stood now, at attention until she was needed.
Her mind could remember, but it did not, because she had not been told to recall the memory.
When the order came, it was the same soft voice that had sung her to eternal sleep deep within the machine. Without thought, she walked over to the machine, and knelt down as instructed, her tongue seeking out the rich honey leaking from the girl now captive within it.
Even if the girl within the machine had not been wearing the helmet, obscuring her identity, the red-haired girl would not have hesitated for a moment. She was no longer a person, and would have not thought for a moment that her best friend should not be brainwashed and enslaved too.