No ‘I’ in H_ve
Chapter Two
The controllers led their captive out into a corridor, then into a larger main corridor, where Brooks was quickly immersed in a flowing river of blue-clad womanhood. They didn’t look back, or speak; it seemed that they had no thought that she wouldn’t follow wherever they led, and it seemed to Brooks’ mind that they were correct. She followed directly behind and between them, walking in perfect rhythm with the ever-present music as the blue-clad women parted to allow passage. In her mind, a part which seemed disconnected from her body tried to scream, to resist, but she was unable to act on any of it. Slowly, that part seemed to grow quieter, washed over by the waves of tingling euphoria which seemed to flow from the ring of metal and the jewel it held.
As they parted, the blue-clad women—faces from every part of the world streaming by—looked at her without speaking as she followed her controllers. Brooks discovered that she could move her head and eyes somewhat to look at her surroundings, but whatever force held her will had also chained her curiosity, to the point where her vision simply wandered slightly and absorbed sights as they went by.
Kovan arısı: the words flashed in her mind each time she focused at all on the blue- clad masses. They were kovan arısı, she somehow knew, and the much rarer ones who wore veils over their faces were köle. On each forehead, above those devoted, staring eyes sparkled a deep blue sapphire, like her own. Eğitici—the word imprinted itself upon her brain: it was her instructor and it was helping her to learn. Even the part of her which resisted saw this as something good, knowledge would help her, and so it was hard not to feel good that her eğitici was helping her learn about this place. This place? she thought, what is this place? As she thought that last, the trio entered the large room she’d seen before; Ari Kovani, the new word blossomed inside her brain.
Where are the Denetleyici taking me? Somehow it didn’t bother her that her brain thought of the controllers in this new language. It was what they were—Denetleyici—and to call them something else would be wrong. In her mind it was the only word she had for them. Beyin yıkama, bloomed the answer in her mind: she was an esir and they were taking her to undergo beyin yıkama, where she would become a kovan arisi, and become part of the Ari Kovani. The revelation brought with it a fresh wave of pleasure.
Keyif, her eğitici told her.
Pleasure - Keyif, it corrected, would come from correct thinking, and beyin yikama would make sure she would always think correctly.
Her body shook slightly, not enough to deter her from following the two Denetleyici, but quite pleasurably in a walking orgasm. Ödül, her eğitici told her, was reward. She was learning how to think correctly, and it was hard not to feel good about it.
At the far end of the large room they entered another main corridor, with throngs of blue-clad kovan arisi parting to allow the trio to pass. As they entered a smaller, side hallway, Brooks saw something new: a line of possibly forty women wearing street clothes. Esir, like herself she knew, all wore their own eğitici, which was doubtlessly teaching them to think correctly, just as Brooks’ was.
They came to the line as Brooks noticed a dozen more Denetleyici standing in a row opposite the other esir, then the trio stopped. The Denetleyici turned to face her and, suddenly, all other thought ceased. Brooks’ mind was filled with the radiant faces in their shining black and gold, with the pulsing white gems centered above their shining eyes.
“Heykel gibi hareketsiz”: they pointed to a next to the last esir in line. Brooks obediently left them to walk to her place and stand like a statue with the rest. The two Denetleyici joined their sisters in line facing her.
It felt wonderful, standing still without thinking, just as a statue, as she had been commanded. Her body tingled with keyif and all sense of time was lost to her. She floated on the pure bliss of keyif for what could have been hours, or days, or just minutes until someone spoke, and her attention immediately focused on the line of Denetleyici. There were six more of them and, distantly, Brooks knew that more esir had arrived next to her.
“Girmek,” the Denetleyici spoke as one, and the line of esir turned left to march toward the end of the hallway, where two kovan arisi held open heavy double doors. Walking with the other esir and not thinking felt wonderful. The sensation of keyif had filled her, owned her, she would walk with her sister esir to undergo beyin yikama and emerge as a kovan arisi and would belong to the Ari Kovani forever. Her eğitici rewarded her warmly for thinking so very correctly and she would have smiled if she had been able.
Inside was a large room, with large glass tubes standing in partitioned alcoves. Within each tube was a cushioned panel fitted with straps. A variety of devices, wires and tubes could be seen at the top and bottom of them. Fifty of these, in two rows, stood open, waiting.
Kapsül, she felt a wave of keyif as the new word affixed itself in her mind. Brooks was taken in hand by a beautiful brunette kovan arisi and led to one of them. Brooks stood obediently, blank and still, as the strap of her forgotten carry bag was lifted off her shoulder and her turtleneck was cut away. Her sports bra came next, leaving her upper body naked and the cool air feeling wonderful on her exposed nipples and skin.
The kovan arisi reached next for her belt, and …
… Her mind went completely blank after a sudden flash of sparks through her brain.
Slowly, she came back to herself, the kovan arisi stood motionless about a foot away. In her hand was a—Brooks’ mind searched for the word—“taser.” The woman was holding her taser in one hand, and blankly looking off into space.
Why can I think? Brooks was almost startled when there was no answer within her mind. Slowly, languidly, her mind collected around the realization that the woman, the kovan arisi, had tried to remove the taser from its pouch on the belt, and in doing so tripped the anti tampering modification Brooks had made to it, giving both of them a jolt. She never thought of it as a weapon, just another of her specialized tools: the jolt it delivered was highly effective for disabling several types of surveillance sensors and alarms. Apparently it had also at least impaired her eğitici. Thinking the word as she had been taught to sent her thoughts spinning momentarily, and she was at once afraid that the device would awaken and reassert itself, while the newly created part of her was afraid that it wouldn’t. Within her mind, she felt somehow sad that she could no longer feel it, and devastatingly empty without its warm caressing keyif.
She hesitated, trying to sort herself out. The recovering part of her struggled to regroup her will and plot an escape, while the rest of her, the part which had been taught to want to be made into a kovan arisi, wanted to wait, to summon help. That part seemed to be screaming within her in an attempt to awaken her eğitici. Slowly her hands moved to it. Her will was winning, if ever so slightly, and she had managed the effort to try and remove the thing … her eğitici, her instructor. With tremendous effort, she willed her hands to pull at the device which was holding tight, and to hammer the traitorous would-be kovan arisi parts of her inner self into submission, obedience—mutlak itaat: she almost lost herself again as her mind pulsed with the word and its meaning, absolute obedience. She could feel that her eğitici was also trying to stir and she stopped pulling. She needed to come up with a plan before she didn’t want to any more.
Quickly she looked around, across from her: in the alcove facing hers stood a kovan arisi at stiff attention next to a kapsül which held one of (she fought not to think her fellow) esir and it was starting to come to life. Flashes of alternating blue and white filled the kapsül- tube while a visor had lowered itself into place over the esir’s eyes. Brooks watched, transfixed, as a deep blue phallus rose to insert itself into her waiting pussy.
Beyin yikama, Brooks sighed, drifting, feeling the music flow around her. A new kovan arisi was being born before her eyes—no doubt all around her dozens more were doing the same—and pulling herself back from wanting to be one of them was like pulling away from pleasure—keyif—just at the cusp of orgasm—ödül.
With considerable effort, she willed herself away from the brink. She turned quickly away. Her body ached with the sudden loss of keyif, and a strong part of her wanted to find a way to make it return. For now, though, her will had the upper hand in the battle for her mind and body, and she needed to focus in order to keep it that way.
There was a bench near the kapsül, which held what she could only assume were clothes meant for her to put on after her beyin yikama was complete. Fighting to suppress a shudder at the thought, she moved to the clothes. If she were to have any chance of navigating this place without attracting attention and escaping, she would need to blend in, at least until she could get to her own hidden clothing, back in the vent shaft. And, if she got out by another route, these clothes would be at least slightly better to reach her hotel in than being naked from the waist up, as she was now.
The halter top was of a material she didn’t recognize; not silk, as she had thought, but something lighter, and not entirely opaque. There were silver accents sewn into the neckline, and gemstones spaced among the silver. It felt surprisingly comfortable when she tied it in place, which worried her enough to prompt an instant of hesitation, but she pressed on, removing her own pants and panties.
The pants, if they could be called such, would leave nothing to mystery. Through the sheerness her shaved lower body would be on clear display for all to see, but, like the top, they felt warm and light.
The sandals went on perfectly, seeming to conform to her feet as she fastened the straps of blue and silver weave. Straightening her veil and adjusting her garments—giysi—she felt suddenly light. It was good that she had her giysi; she knew, because it would help her blend in.
Last, she scrunched her hands through the six slightly blue-tinted glass bangles, three on each wrist, and two bracelets of intricate silver.
She then looked back at her bag. Would she be noticed carrying it? The answer, of course, was a strong probably, so she looked around her and spied something she could use. Nearby, there was a cart strewn with small electrical parts. She bent to retrieve her bag and as she was turning to go she heard something which made her stop cold.
“Bana yardım edin,” help me, the kovan arisi whispered, “bana yardım et lütfen.”
Without thinking, Brooks put the bag down on the cart and walked to the woman.
“Hello?” she looked the kovan arisi in her eyes, a pale shade of blue. The part of her which had the upper hand was relieved that she was able to speak in English.
“Arıza,” the kovan arisi breathed. Brooks could see the distress in those pretty eyes and it drew her in.
“Do you know who you are?”
“Kovan arisi,” she answered.
“Do you know who I am?” Brooks asked, not sure what she wanted the answer to be. Those eyes were hard to look away from.
“Kovan arisi,” came the answer, “kız kardeş”.
Brooks felt a tremor through her nervous system, almost like a flash of keyif. She was caught off balance as the eyes seemed intent on engulfing her kız kardeş, sister. The words tumbled over each other in her mind.
“Yeniden başlamak,” the kovan arisi was asking her to restart …
Restart?
Brooks felt her hands touched, then gently lifted, and then saw and felt them brought to either side of the other woman’s eğitici. The metal felt smooth and warm as her hands were drawn slowly back and forth over the shiny silver in time with the music which seemed to fill her mind like warm water to a thirsty sponge.
“Halim selim,” the kovan arisi spoke, her lips barely a kiss away from Brooks’: “itaat etmek.”
She felt very relaxed, docile and calm, and it was hard to think of any reason at all why she shouldn’t obey. It felt absolutely wonderful when the kovan arisi’s hands moved to slowly caress her own eğitici, as Brooks continued doing in turn. Slowly, a new wave of keyif began to grow within her. The new part of her, the part she’d been fighting, felt very strong, warm, and wonderful, and the part which had fought felt itself being smoothed away.
“Bağlı olmak Ari Kovani,” the kovan arisi breathed, her lips brushing lightly against Brooks.’
“Evet,” Brooks breathed back, “bağlı olmak Ari Kovani.” Yes, awash in the warm blanket of keyif, she knew it was true, she belonged to the Ari Kovani, and it was good that this kovan arisi was helping her. She floated on the rightness of it while her body yearned for beyin yikama.
The kovan arisi kissed her, and she was lost in the depth of the kiss, swept away in keyif: she belonged here, and she had been wrong to defy the Ari Kovani, but her eğitici caressed her with the knowledge that she was forgiven and that she was now thinking with complete correctness. Her body shook with joy and ecstasy as her strongest ödül yet tore through her, smoothing and liquefying everything it touched.
“Elbisesini çıkarmak,” she heard the kovan arisi say softly, “içeriye girmek.” Slowly she realized that she was no longer being kissed. She felt herself being guided toward her kapsül.
“Evet”; yes, she needed to disrobe and step into her kapsül to begin her beyin yikama, which almost her entire being wanted more than anything else in the world.
Almost … and then her mind went blank, full of sparks.