It was the vacant expression on the women’s face across from me that frightened me the most. There were five of them, kneeling, wearing this god-awful outfit, the kind you’d think a horny 16-year-old boy would imagine a dominatrix would wear. Only these women weren’t standing sternly over the boy; they were on their knees, in a row, staring into space. I tried to get their attention, first by whispering, then by shouting. But it was useless.
I’d say I tried to take stock of the situation when I first came to, but only my ex-boyfriend would make those kind of lame puns. One moment I was at this new club wearing my LBD and having my favorite drink- a Manhattan, thank you very much- and the next, I’m here, naked, my wrists and neck caught between two planks. The planks were chained to the floor and ceiling, suspended, so I was stuck in a kneeling position, my ass resting on another wooden plank which ran between my legs. The room was dark, and I could barely make out anything beyond the five woman staring blankly into the darkness behind me.
They were of varying builds and races, and, frankly, they were all pretty hot. Pretty hot? Why was I thinking like that? I must still be woozy from that drink. Or whatever was in that drink. In fact, the one on the right looked like the woman who had been next to me at the bar, the one who said she liked my dress, and asked me about my shoes. I thought I saw her do something near my drink when I looked down, but I wasn’t sure. That’s about the last thing I remember before I woke up here.
It was then that I noticed I wasn’t actually terrified. If anything, this whole experience was making me… a little turned on. Yes. I was definitely turned on.
As i was trying to make sense of this, I thought I heard a whisper or a voice say something behind me.
All of a sudden, projected on the women and the wall behind them, was this amazing digital spiral thing. Well, it wasn’t quite a spiral and it wasn’t not a spiral. It was simultaneously black and white and all the colors of the rainbow. Or, at least, that’s how I remember it.
And then there was this weird sound playing in the background. It wasn’t quite music, but it wasn’t exactly drum and bass. And there was some kind of whispering going on behind that. I tried to make out what it was saying. I thought I had just figured it out when it got drowned out by what happened next.
Because, right then, a humming filled the room. I looked at the women and saw that they were on what looked a lot like Sybians, and that’s where the hum was coming from.
At exactly the same time, I felt something press against my clit and that’s when I realized the plank I was over had a hole right in the fucking middle of it. ‘Cause that’s when I started to feel the thing pressed against me start to vibrate. And the vibrations were pulsing in time to the video projecting on those fucking hot women and the wall behind them.
I’m not going to lie; it felt good. So good. Disturbingly good. I was just trying to come to my senses about this, when the women started speaking in unison.
“Obedience brings pleasure.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
Then again, in creepy unison. “Obedience brings pleasure.”
And that’s when I realized the vibration from the thing pressed against me was in time with their words, too.
Then the vibration on me, and the humming stopped at the same time.
All at once I heard a chorus of disappointed moans from the women.
They looked at me with… disappointment? Rage? Accusation? I guess it depends on which one I looked at, if I could tear my eyes away from their heaving breasts.
Then it started again.
“Obedience brings pleasure.” They chanted. “Obedience brings pleasure.”
Fuck. It felt so good, though it was much lighter than last time.
Whatever they had injected in me, whatever was going on, it was working. This was starting to feel better than the Molly I had at Burning Man five years ago.
But the fact it was lighter was sooooo frustrating.
Then it turned off again. Again, there were disappointed sighs from the women.
A minute later it started again, only I could barely feel it. In fact, whatever it was that was beneath me didn’t vibrate at all. It just lay there, across my clit.
I admit I tried to press against it, but it didn’t make a difference.
Again, three times-”Obedience brings pleasure.” This time the words were displayed over the animation. This time, when the vibrations turned off, I admit, I joined the chorus of disappointed moans.
“Fuck it,” I thought. “Why not?”
When it started up, I waited until I could do it in time to girls. “Obedience brings pleasure.” Oh fuck. The vibrator started right up, just like the first time. “Obedience brings pleasure. Obedience brings pleasure.”
This time it kept going. And going.
I soon learned that if I stopped saying it, everything would stop for a minute, and the women would whine very loudly.
I really got into the rhythm of it, thought. “Obedience brings pleasure. Obedience brings pleasure.” Even the thought of it was really hot. I’d always had a thing for roleplaying in the bedroom. Pretending to be Chuck’s sex slave that one weekend was a lot of fun. This was starting to feel a little like that headspace I got to by the end of that weekend.
I was getting ready to come when all of a sudden all the vibrations stopped. This time I did groan in disappointment, but-strangely-the other women didn’t.
One minute later a new sentence appeared.
“I am blank and empty, ready to be filled.”
What the fuck? I mean, it was hot, but still. The women started to chant before I registered what was going on, and this time I got nothing between my legs.
This was so frustrating.
“Fine.” I thought. “I can do this.”
After the vibrations over there stopped, the glares happened again, and the minute was up, I was ready.
“I am blank and empty, ready to be filled.” As before, the vibrator kept going and going as long as I repeated what was on the screen.
This went on for-easily-another five minutes, and, just as I was getting close again, it stopped. Again, I groaned in frustration.
Do you ever get drunk on lust, where everything is hazy and you’d do anything to get over that edge? That’s where I was.
I looked into the darkness for what felt like minutes, waiting for the next sentence.
“I have no will, I live to serve.” That’s easy.
I started chanting right on cue, and was rewarded with so much pleasure.
“I have no will, I live to serve. I have no will, I live to serve.”
For the next… I don’t know.. several hours? This routine repeated over and over again. Pretty soon, the sentences would flash over the animation one right after the other.
“I am a mindless slave.”
“I obey my orders.”
“Only good drones get to cum.”
“I don’t deserve to think.”
“I believe my mantras.”
“I live to obey.”
“I want to be a drone. I want to be a slave. I want to be mindless, empty, and blank.”
“I am a drone. I am a slave. I am mindless, empty, and blank.”
“I am a fucktoy.”
“I am just an obedient cunt.”
“I live for my orders.”
And you know what? It worked.
I think when I finally got to “Fuck my mind like the good fuckdoll I am” I was allowed to come. But I can’t really say, because by that point I was really mindless and filled with desire. Several hours of frustration will do that.
Once I broke, the women got up, released me, and began to construct a new identity for me. But that’s a whole other story.
This story…
This is a story I like to tell women like you, because the drug I put in your drink took effect a long, long time ago. You won’t remember me telling it to you at all, even though you’ve been saying the mantras with me all the way through.
