Dojo Discipline
Book Three
Miss Li stood at the dojo’s front door as her students filed out, exchanging positive, affirming words with each of them in turn. Though she was honest and open about each of their performances that day, she didn’t give any of them the amount of analysis and support she would have just two months earlier. She wasn’t brusque, but nobody left without feeling that she was hurrying them along.
More than one glanced over her shoulder back into the dojo toward the training room, where they knew Lewis would be waiting, but none of them were quite willing to say anything. Not that Miss Li would have been willing to grant any of her other students private lessons now. Lewis hadn’t even asked her if she wanted to be hypnotised yet; Miss Li had no guarantee that she would be. But she wanted to be. She felt that need, that desire, so much that she was willing to hurry everyone else out in the hope he would offer.
She’d tried asking herself, the previous week. She’d worried that perhaps Lewis would be angry with her for asking. That maybe she’d annoy him, and he’d cut her off. So it had taken a long time for her to nerve herself up to ask the question, to summon up her courage. And when she did try, the words seemed to dry up in her throat, until all that escaped her lips was a gasp.
But immediately after that it made perfect sense. Of course, some part of her brain thought. If it were for me to decide, he wouldn’t ask. He’d let me say. He asks because…
Because she couldn’t say no. She didn’t know where that that thought came from but she treated it, not as suspicious, but as growing insight. A deeper understanding of who she truly was.
Master Lewis—because he became, in her head, Master Lewis the moment they were the only two in the building, and the last other student had just stepped past the threshold—would doubtless be proud of her for her new understanding, if he were told. But she knew now that in this, as with being hypnotised, she would wait to be asked.
She closed and locked the front door and went back through into the training room to hope that he would ask her if she wanted to be hypnotised. As she crossed the threshold she saw the smirk on Master Lewis’ face; she stopped in her tracks and made a low, deferential bow, just as he had taught her she should. She straightened up from the bow, but did not lift her head again to meet his eye.
Instead she walked slowly across to him, stopping when she could see a gap between his feet and hers of only two feet, her hands limp by her side.
It was important her arms be limp and unready, Master Lewis had taught her. In judo class, she wanted everyone in a ready stance. In her time with Master Lewis, she would adopt stances only by his instruction.
To stand ready without his word was to act as if her decisions were relevant, and they were not.
“Quite a good lesson, I thought,” he said, and did not address her as Miss Li. The authority flowed in only one direction now.
“Yes, Master Lewis.” He was making small talk. He wasn’t asking if she wanted to be hypnotised. And she could not nudge him along; could only make herself available, and linger if necessary, to give him every chance to decide to ask. It was like it had been in high school, waiting for the boy she liked to notice her, and with just as little confidence in the result.
“Your body obeys,” Lewis prompted.
“My body obeys,” Miss Li echoed without further nudging. “My body enslaves my mind. My mind learns to obey.
“My body takes me deep. My mind makes me obedient. My body catches me up in trance. My mind loves to be entranced.
“Master Lewis gives commands, and my body obeys.”
She fell into her mantra without needing to fall into trance, but all the same, her eyelids fluttered, her gaze unfocused. Master Lewis had suggested once that she might always be hypnotised, and while that didn’t make sense (why would she still want him to offer to hypnotise her?) there were times where as nonsensical as it was, it was still what she thought was true. Maybe she just wanted it to be.
“My body obeys. My body enslaves my mind. My mind learns to obey.” Staring at her Master’s feet, her vision swam. She started to move, all unaware that she was doing so. Her hands reached down to her black belt and undid the knot, pulled it from her waist.
“My body takes me deep. My mind makes me obedient. My body catches me up in trance. My mind loves to be entranced.” She drew back the left sleeve of her gi and, holding out her left arm, wrapped her black belt taut around it, tucking its ends under itself to keep it in place. Then she shrugged her gi off and, heedless of the disrespect to her old training in the gesture, let it fall to the ground without further attention or interest.
“Master Lewis gives commands,” she said as she pulled down her loose pants and stepped out of them, tossing them mindlessly to the side. “And my body obeys.”
She straightened briefly, wearing only her wet, needy, sweaty panties and the belt looped around one forearm, and her unseeing, unfocused eyes fell briefly on Master Lewis. She was not even aware of the satisfied smirk on his face.
“My body obeys,” she repeated. “My body enslaves my mind. My mind learns to obey.” She parted her legs wider as she began to draw down her panties, needing the extra room to stop them sticking to her thighs as they clung to her pussy. Once it was far enough down that it wouldn’t catch, she let it fall. Taking a step forward, she bent at the knees and picked it up with her left hand, untucking the ends of her belt from her left arm as she did.
“My body takes me deep. My mind,” and she inserted the balled, soaked panties into her mouth, “mfff muh uh ee ee nnh.” She wrapped her belt around her mouth, holding the panties in, tying her belt in place beneath her hair. Her mantra continued as empty moans and grunts, and she bowed her head again in deference to Master Lewis.
“Give me thirty star jumps,” Lewis commanded. “Three sets of ten, with fifteen second intervals stood at attention.”
Miss Li moaned her consent and began to jump. Her head came up naturally for her exercise; she had long been drilled in the proper execution of each movement, and her body remember this faithfully. If Lewis directed her to change it, she doubtless would adjust as mindlessly as, in this state, she obeyed all his other direct suggestions. But he hadn’t done so. It had never even occurred to him.
Truthfully, in Lewis’ opinion, how she obeyed was almost irrelevant. The most important part of all this was that she did obey. The only other part he found important was how titillating she was as she did so. To that point, at least, she had always been arousing enough in her behaviour. He’d never felt the need to correct her.
He could hear how much extra strain exercising while gagged put on her system. Probably that was something he should feel at least mildly guilty about, but as things stood it just felt like more proof of his power. It was just something else to make him feel satisfied with what he was doing.
“Wind sprints,” he ordered afterward. “Two sets of ten, the length of the hall. Begin.”
Immediately Miss Li went from her stance at attention to one side of the hall, where she began her sprints. In the interval he could see just how hard she was breathing; he could see the sweat not just on brow but also body. So far, he thought, so good; this was exactly the behaviour he needed before his next step.
He waited until her second set was almost done. While she was in mid-dash, he called “Attention!”
She faltered and almost stumbled as the command reached her, but stayed on her feet and straightened up into a rigid pose of attention before his eyes.
He walked across to her, met her eyes as she stared blankly straight ahead. “Part of you still wants to complete that set, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yff, Mfftr Lwws.”
“But my instruction is more important than that,” he said. “Your body obeyed it, and your mind is learning to obey it. Correct?”
“Yff, Mfftr Lwws.”
“You would abandon any goal if I ordered it.”
She remained silent and he chuckled. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Yff, Mfftr Lwws.”
“There we are,” he said, and nodded. “You’d have no choice. You have no choice now. Correct?”
“Yff, Mfftr Lwws.”
He smiled, and temporarily changed tack. “Do you remember why I first gagged you?”
“Yff, Mfftr Lwws.”
“You’d been disrespectful, hadn’t you?”
“Yff, Mfftr Lwws.”
“Have you learned your lesson?”
A momentary pause this time. Lewis could see her addled, dazed mind, deep in trance, trying to work out what her answer should be. “Yff, Mfftr Lwws,” she tried, probably because she was so deeply hooked into agreement more than out of any decision.
“So you won’t be saying anything that disrespects me again.”
“Yff, Mfftr Lwws.”
He reached behind her head and let the black belt fall away, then plucked her panties from her mouth. “You’ve earned the chance to talk again, then,” he said with a smile. Miss Li stood at attention, as she had been, and said nothing. Without a prompt, there was no reason to speak.
“You know your mantra well,” he continued. Miss Li remained silent, her eyes remained glassy, and there was no change to her expression or her body language that Lewis could see. Somehow, though, she seemed more confident and comfortable for the praise. “I’m going to give you another one. And you will embrace it just as deeply.”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“The new mantra doesn’t change anything for you,” Lewis continued. “Not the way your first did. This mantra will simply remind you of your status.” There was a moment of confusion on her face, and Lewis smiled.
“Do you make choices, or do I?” he asked.
“You make choices, Master Lewis,” she answered softly.
“You have no choice. Repeat.”
“I have no choice.”
“I make the choices because I am in control,” he told her. “Correct?”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“You have no control. Repeat.”
“I have no control.”
“You can have no control because you have no power,” he told her. “Correct?”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“You have no power. Repeat.”
“I have no power.”
“Your new mantra will reflect this. No power, no control, no choice. Repeat.”
“No power, no control, no choice.”
“What is your new mantra?”
“No power, no control, no choice, Master Lewis.”
Again, there was nothing he could put his finger on in her expression or her body language. Yet somehow she seemed defeated. Smaller, in the way she stood, as if she occupied less space, smaller by virtue of her new, limited horizons.
“Very good,” he said, and pointed to the side of the room, where he had taken a broom from the cupboard and left it ready. “Repeating your mantra, make this room clean,” he instructed. “I’ll continue our hypnotic work once I’ve had a shower.”
“Yes, Master Lewis,” she agreed helplessly. She turned and walked naked toward the broom, her pace perfectly even and steady. She did not hurry to obey, but she did not shrink from the demeaning duty either. “No power, no control, no choice. No power, no control, no choice. No power, no control, no choice.” Her fingers closed around the broom and as she began to sweep, she did so to the rhythm set by her mantra. After each repetition she seemed to pause, just for a moment, as if a mind too deep for any kind of swift function needed the time to think of her next step. “No power, no control, no choice.”
There was no going back. There had never been any going back, not since the second time he hypnotised her, but the shift in mantra to a new one felt like another line crossed that he could never return from. Fresh from his shower, Lewis watched her methodically move up and down the room, sweeping away the trivial amounts of dust built up since the cleaning staff had vacuumed the hall the day before. Her motions were as fluid as any lesson she taught, but there was still the inescapable impression of mechanical movement; something in the way she carried herself looked not like a person doing a chore but like an object performing a function.
He could easily have wandered back in naked but he’d taken the time to dress properly, even though it would mildly get in the way. The point of this was not to be easy; the point of this was to confront Miss Li in yet another way with the fact of her powerlessness, her lack of control, her inability to make her own choices.
Lewis found a place to stand, leaning against the wall, where Miss Li would see him whenever her eyes flicked upward, where she could not help but be conscious of his presence, his authority, his power and control, at all times. He waited until she was almost done with her current duty, then pushed himself off the wall and started walking toward her. “Stop,” he ordered, and Miss Li halted, jerking to a stop, the fluidity of her motion abruptly if temporarily gone.
He halted in his turn. “Approach,” he said, and approach was a term he had taught Miss Li meant something very specific. The broom falling from suddenly nerveless fingers, she buckled at the knees, sinking to the floor in one fast drop. If the dojo didn’t have padding on the floors, she could probably have injured her knees dropping at that speed.
Miss Li stared blankly at him for a long moment from her knees before she leaned forward, moving to crawl on hands and knees, arms bent, head low, bare ass swaying as she moved. The closer she came to him, the more clearly he could hear the sound she was making, a simmering whimper with a series of low moans underpinning it. He didn’t doubt that by the time she arrived at his feet she’d be leaving a slippery, shining trail—which he might have to tell her to clean up before she left.
She ground to a halt, almost literally, with just a foot between her hand and his shoes, and then sat back on her haunches, head lowered.
“You must be quite tired by now,” Lewis said with a grin. “Yes?”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“Do you think you deserve a reward?”
Miss Li remained silent, remained exactly as she was, for a long moment. “I have no choice,” she said at last. Then, the words spilling out of her as if by compulsion. “I have no control. I have no power.”
“Well, well, well,” he grinned. “You’re coming along very well. You’re almost brainwashing yourself for me now.” Was it his imagination, or did her shoulders lift slightly, as if a weight was lifting from them?
“You’re getting a reward, in any case. Or the chance to achieve one. Would you like to know what it is?”
“Yes, Master Lewis,” she offered. And certainly she seemed relieved that it was no longer her decision.
“I’m going to cum on your tits,” he said. “But only if you can make yourself cum five times in ten minutes, without leaving your knees or using toys.”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“Consider it the final exercise assignment of the evening. And from this point on, it will be the final assignment of every hypnotic exercise. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“Look at me,” he ordered, and as she did he took out his phone with a flourish, then took his time loading the stopwatch app. “Put your hands ready.”
She raised her arms into the upper half of a defensive stance, left hand curled in closer to her chest, right arm extended further forward. Miss Li stared up at Lewis with unquestioning, unthinking eyes. “Begin,” he instructed as he set the stopwatch running.
Her hands moved as if following her training in a kata, an almost reflexive sequence of steps. Her left hand leapt to her right breast, stroking the underside as thumb and forefinger caught up her nipple and began to tug, stroke, and flick. Her right hand gracefully arced down between parting thighs, and the claw-hold which had been part of her stance easily became two questing fingers. Her lips parted as she entered herself, her eyes widened without showing any more awareness. It was as if her conscious awareness were surprised to find herself quite so wet and ready as she was.
There was no hesitation to her movements. No doubt. No thought. There was an urgency to her masturbation he imagined she never had when she set out to come for herself. But then, she wasn’t cumming for herself. She was cumming for him, seeking to earn a reward; and he rather imagined the reward didn’t excite her nearly so much as the fact he was going to give her one.
Although he might be wrong; he hadn’t spent much time deliberately making her attracted to him, aroused by him, or liable to fantasise about him, but he’d certainly perverted almost every aspect of her training to become training for her. It wasn’t going to be the first time he’d masturbated in front of her, if she earned the reward; it wasn’t even the first time he’d had her finger herself until she came. He had set aside questions of why, or what she fantasised about, on the basis that once he had her far enough along to accept her new mantra, it wasn’t going to matter. Miss Li would cum for him, debase herself for him, do anything for him, not because she desired him but because in the reconstructed mind remaining to her, obedience to him was the inevitable, natural state of existence.
He listened to her whimpers, her moans, her gasps of arousal with all the excitement of a teenager hearing their favourite act’s new album for the first time, not catching any of the subtleties but enjoying the uniqueness and the passion of the moment. Where a teenager would deny that their treat was manufactured, though, Lewis was deeply proud of the work he’d done to manufacture what knelt, needy and helplessly, mindlessly fingering herself, before him. He’d have showed off his work if there were anyone he could show off too.
…Hmm, he thought. There was definitely an idea there… But as he heard her needy, desperate cries, as her unseeing eyes rolled briefly back into her head, her programmed need not including permission to close her eyes when ordered to look at him, and as he noted how long her first orgasm had taken to achieve, he knew she had other priorities to deal with.
Lewis watched her cum, over and over, racing against her best guess of how much time was on the clock. Wanting so much to obey. Needing to follow his orders as he wished, and yet always unsure of his end goals. However smart Miss Li might be, she couldn’t anticipate his needs, couldn’t try to second-guess him. Couldn’t even be sure, after the past few weeks, whether he wanted her to succeed or fail when he set her challenges; he had seemed to be pleased with both.
Of course, that had been about getting her to this point. This evening she had given up her right to choose; had officially surrendered control (although that had really gone some time ago) and had finally placed herself consciously and knowingly in his power (where she had been for weeks). Before that, she had already surrendered her faith in her own judgement. She trusted Lewis’ perspective and plans ahead of her own.
That was really the key, and that was why he’d never drawn her attention to it. You never let the audience see the key to the magic trick.
He didn’t actually care if she made it to his timeframe or not. He was going to give her the impression she’d just barely earned the ‘reward’ he wanted to give her regardless. But as the echoes of her last orgasm died away, Lewis made a great show of consulting the display on his phone, then looked down and smiled. “What do you think? Did you make it?”
“I don’t know, Master Lewis,” she said, and her voice was quieter and more subdued than it ever was when she was acknowledging his orders. Uncertainty had set in completely; the only certainty in her life was when she was following his commands. No wonder she craved them so much. No wonder she offered less and less resistance.
Had he even hypnotised her that time, technically? The start of their encounter was a blur but he rather thought he’d just given her a mantra and it had pulled her so deeply off balance that she’d dropped into trance of her own accord.
If he hadn’t already been achingly hard, that would have been enough.
“Nine minutes and thirty-seven seconds,” he said. Which was actually a full minute longer than it had taken her, but why encourage her? She was so obedient without any extra nudges. It wasn’t worth the risk of pushing his luck with her when he was already getting this kind of result.
He unzipped his fly and took out his cock. “This cum is for your tits,” he told her. “Show me.”
“Yes, Master Lewis.” She brought her palms together, fingers extended, in front of her body, in a sign of respect; holding her hands like that, she extended her elbows, bringing her arms back until they rested against her belly, then raised her hands, still in place, until the sign of respect became also a cradle, showing off her tits to best display and simultaneously offering them for his seed.
Lewis began to stroke, savouring the moment, using every trick he had to draw it out as long as possible. “What is your mantra?” he asked.
“No power,” she responded instantly. “No control. No choice. No power. No control. No choice. No power…”
This had been a miscalculation, as far as drawing it out was concerned. He came somewhere during her sixth repetition, came more and for longer than he expected to. Her tits, her hands, her chest and her chin were all liberally coated.
The next night, Miss Li prepared to teach a class Lewis wasn’t part of, one of the ten or so she taught each week that he didn’t attend. These classes, too, had noticed a difference in the focus level of their teacher, though nothing like so profound a distraction as in Lewis’ class. Most of them had given it little thought, assuming she had something on her mind.
Some small number had leaped to the conclusion that her relationship was on the rocks, and two of the men in her beginners’ class had tried their luck, only to be politely but firmly rebuffed. The consideration that she could kick their asses uppermost in their mind, neither had been quite willing to press their luck in case they might be humiliated by her.
One of her students in one of these classes had noticed that his teacher no longer wore a bra after an incidental contact during a grapple lingered perhaps a little too long. Miss Li, however, was still so distracted that she had entirely failed to notice.
She shrugged her bra off and dropped it into her gym bag, then ran through her stretches. Yes, she thought again, she really could tell the difference in how free she was to move without her bra; in hindsight it was stunning she hadn’t noticed before Lewis pointed it out.
Picking up her gi, she shrugged it over her shoulders; before she tied it, though, she paused and dipped back into her bag, taking out a small black box Lewis had given her the night before.
If you want your throws to be crisper and sharper than ever, wear these under your outfit, Lewis had said. She’d taken the box and not even looked inside. She didn’t know why, but then, it hadn’t occurred to her to wonder why. Around Master Lewis she sometimes just did things and didn’t even worry about whether they made sense.
With her thumbnail she broke the seal on the box, unfolding the thick cardstock to reveal a small well lined in red velvet, in which two small, gleaming silver items rested. They were silver circles, with two T-shaped pieces set inside, each with a screw extending out so they could be brought closer together. Miss Li looked at them curiously for a long time before she realised what they were, not helped by a total lack of familiarity with the products.
Lewis had given her a pair of nipple clamps. Probably quite an expensive pair.
Holding the box in one hand, she slowly reached in with the other to touch them. The metal was cool, smooth, almost slick to the touch; the clamping mechanism felt, if not sharp exactly, thin and firm. She knew instinctively that wearing them would sting and leave her nipples aching for a long time to come.
All the same there was none of the horror she felt she should feel. Instead she had a burning curiosity. Would these do as Lewis said they would?
As painful as it might be to find out, could she possibly pass up the chance?
She stood for a moment, undecided and uncertain, before a thought crossed her mind. It was one of the thoughts that sounded more like Lewis than herself.
I have no choice. Lewis makes the choices because Lewis is in control.
And Lewis had bought the clamps. Had given them to her. Had recommended them. If he hadn’t wanted her to wear them, he needn’t have done any of those things.
It wasn’t exactly like he had made the choice, except that it was. Lewis made the choices. Her own questions and doubts were irrelevant.
Slowly, she picked up the first of the clamps and fiddled with it until she felt she knew how it should attach. She held it in one place and worked the mechanism with her thumb, feeling it swing into place, gripping tightly. A muffled squeak of… something… escaped her lips, which she’d tried to clamp tight.
Miss Li did not enjoy pain, but this… somehow, this stung in a way that delighted her, an observation that also sounded more like Lewis than herself. She could almost hear him saying it, as if he’d been speculating on her sexual habits—an image that should fill her with more upset than it did.
She was a little more eager when she applied the second clamp.
Miss Li stood motionless for a few moments, feeling the sting—it didn’t go away, but over time it became this throb, this ache, that seemed somehow delicious. But feeling good wasn’t enough on its own.
Abruptly she threw herself sideways toward the floor, hitting it in a smooth roll, and coming back up standing. The entire motion had been fluid; as good as she ever had been, she thought.
Maybe even better.
It had been a good lesson, Miss Li thought; every lesson for the best part of the past week had been, ever since the clamps went on. Her shaken confidence was back. She’d taken to wearing them most of the day, whenever she wasn’t at home; she was thinking of keeping them on while she was at home and her partner wasn’t. Her grace, her agility, and her balance had come back in line with her confidence.
All the same, the best part of the lesson was that it brought her back into Lewis’ presence. If she’d felt confident, graceful, and on top of her world before, it was noting compared to the way she felt with him around. There was a sudden extra contentment, a strange reassurance. She knew that if Lewis was around, things would work out alright, even if it was maybe a little daunting along the way. Lewis didn’t make wrong choices, so following his lead would always be the right thing to do.
Usually, as the rest of her students started to filter out, Lewis loitered in the main room of the dojo, but this time when she returned he was nowhere to be seen. She felt a sudden spike of shock, of nerves. Walked out of the training room and checked each room, in turn, until she heard the shower running in the mens’ changing room. Part of her relaxed, knowing he was still there. Knowing there was a chance, at least, that he hadn’t decided not to offer her the chance to be hypnotised, it felt like a weight off her shoulders. Her skin tingled with relief.
She dithered for a while, unsure what to do next, and she was still loitering in the empty changing room as the sound of the shower shut off. A few moments later, Lewis emerged, towel slung over his shoulder in the manner of someone who didn’t expect to be disturbed.
He fetched up short, a look of shock on his face, before he saw who it was and relaxed instantly, smirking broadly. “Oh, it’s you,” he said.
Unsure what to say, she nodded dumbly.
“Would you like to be hypnotised?” he asked. Miss Li swallowed. “Yes, Master Lewis,” she said breathlessly, eyes shining and all eagerness.
He nodded curtly. “Good,” he said. “I’ll be with you in a minute. Oh…” He paused, stepped across to his gym bag, and he pulled from it a smaller bag, a cloth pouch about the size of a file folder, the lines of the cloth distorted by two bulky items. He held out the bag. “Take this.”
Miss Li hurried across to do so. Her hand brushed against his and Lewis saw her eyelids flutter for a moment. The tactile hypnosis he’d experimented with before almost discarding, he thought. It was at least useful for lightly priming her, even if the physical inductions he’d tried hadn’t been as successful as he’d wanted.
The flow of her motion stilled almost immediately, her eyes somewhat glassy. The bag wasn’t heavy, but weight was distributed oddly. Something in there was small but notable; something else, the bulk of the weight, was thin and long, and as a result the bag hung at a strange angle. Holding it, she looked to Master Lewis questioningly.
“Back to the sparring room,” he told her. “Wait for me there.”
“Yes, Master Lewis.” She turned and walked away, her gait locked into the strange, stiff motions she developed when she sank deeper into trance. Lewis smirked as he watched her go; once again, he was happy to see her sinking more easily than he’d expected. Closing on two months after he initially hypnotised her, he was starting to think his control might now be total.
He took his time dressing and headed through only when he was ready, wondering if she would have peeked into the bag.
She hadn’t. Instead she was standing not quite in a defensive stance, not quite in a relaxed way. She was facing the door she knew he’d have to enter by, but her head was bowed, her eyes lowered. The hand holding the bag was down by her side; the other arm snaked behind her back to grasp that arm at the elbow.
The indecision in her stance was both clear and exactly what Lewis wanted to see from her.
“You waited where I told you to,” he told her, and caught the nervous, jerky, fractional nod of her head. “You had no choice,” he continued. Miss Li’s glassy eyes blinked once, very slowly, as that idea percolated through her head, seeming to resonate with something. No choice, her expression said. That was important.
“You had no choice because you have no control.” Lewis watched her vacantly parted lips slowly curve up into the smile of someone in from the cold and wrapped up under a warm duvet. Comforted.
“You have no control because you have no power,” he finished. Miss Li gave an audible sigh. Her shoulders sagged briefly, his bag slipping from her fingers to the mat then drew her back upright until she was standing perfectly straight. Mindlessly, emptily, already in hypnotic trance or as near as made no difference, her hands went to her belt, letting it fall, then shrugging out of her gi. Her pants hit the floor shortly afterward, leaving Lewis in perfect position to admire her body; the green satin panties, already wet between her thighs, and the silver clamps on her nipples highlighting just how bare the rest of her was.
As always, while tranced her face seemed barest of all; gone was all expression, all trace of her personality—and even further gone was her original personality, which couldn’t even be seen in her body language while she was conscious.
Her lips were moving slightly, Lewis noted. “Speak up,” he ordered.
“…no choice. No power, no control, no choice. No power, no control, no choice. No power…” Lewis realised suddenly just how much that excited him. Miss Li had been worn down until almost any one of the interactions he wanted to have with her would take her mind back down into trance.
Delicious.
“Bring me my bag,” he instructed.
“Yes, Master Lewis,” she answered, her voice dreamily monotone. She bent at the knees—no; she settled onto her knees, resuming her upright leaning position, and, eyes still downcast, reached out to her side and gathered up the cloth bag.
Lewis had not expected her to kneel, though he had trained her in approaching on her knees. He watched with interest and growing excitement.
Miss Li transferred the cloth of her bag to her mouth, carrying it as a dog might, and began to crawl to him on all fours. Though she had raised her head, her training to keep ass above head while crawling kicked in, the bag dragging against the mat, but Lewis wasn’t angry; honestly, he was enjoying this too much. Not just the view but the demonstration of how totally her programming had been internalised, to the point she now combined rules mindlessly to create something he hadn’t needed to specify, hadn’t even dreamed up.
Lewis stooped to take the bag from her, caressing her cheek approvingly. He could slap her and get the same mindless lack of response, he realised; so he did, hauled off and cracked her across the cheek hard enough to get an echo from the empty room. Her eyes flicked up to his face, wide open, startled, helpless—and empty. Mindlessly, beautifully empty.
“Back where you started,” he ordered.
“Yes, Master Lewis,” she said, and her voice was still monotone. Any trace of disobedience, of resistance, was gone, but Lewis remembered those startled eyes. She knew what he had done, and did not know why, and she was helpless to stop it. She turned, still on hands and knees, and crawled back to where her gi still rested. The pale green of her panties was now sopping and dark as her ass waved in the air, but Lewis’ attention was—at least temporarily—elsewhere. He took the tripod from the bag first and set it up, cursing under his breath as it put up the usual fight against being put to use.
Just as Miss Li might have done, if he hadn’t tricked her at the beginning; by now, she was complicit in her own destruction.
Well. Lewis shook his head as he pulled the camera from the bag and set it in place. That wasn’t actually true. Her destruction, the breakdown of her original self, was realistically complete now. What remained was her reconstruction.
“Rise and remove your panties,” he commanded, and Miss Li obeyed with the strange mindless grace that came to her deep enough into a hypnotic session.
“Yes, Master Lewis.” She had them balled and raised halfway to her mouth when he told her to stop. Her arm locked into place.
“Toss them into the corner,” he ordered, and she did. Lewis patted the camera. “Do you know what this is?”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“I am going to record your exercise drill,” he told her. “And from it, we will study your form, and we will correct it until all your motions are perfect.”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“Good. We will begin with the ten-minute masturbation sprint. Your goal is to cum six times before the timer is over.”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“Be sure that you are clearly on display for the camera at all times.”
“Yes, Master Lewis.”
“Begin.” He hit Record and fell silent, determined that he wouldn’t speak while the footage was rolling, just in case.
He hadn’t decided what to use it for yet, aside from his own pleasure. If Miss Li were as broken as she seemed, it was time to part her from her lover; but if that were so, he mused as she parted her thighs and went from a defensive half-stance to a groping, fingering, needy pile of sweat, cum, and obedient lust, did he want to use this, or have it simply end more reasonably? More satisfying or fewer questions…
Well, he had time to make up his mind. And as Miss Li could tell you at any point through her mantra, it was his decision.
He stood behind the camera, stroking his cock idly through his pants, and watched his tutor obey his lightest wish.