by bobwhite
Author's Note: I have never written a conditioning story quite like this before, so I'm really interested in any feedback you can offer. I'm sending this in for blankpage's October story exposition, which ran from October 8th to October 23rd, 2004. I hope you like it!
It wasn't until Saundra pulled into her normal parking space in the hospital's parking lot that she noticed her ID badge was gone. That badge functioned as her time card and key to the lab door, and she always kept it on the passenger seat so she would not forget it.
"Great," she said as she started to get out of her car. "I just hope there's a secretary at the fuckin' desk this time." Last time she forgot her badge, she had to wait ten minutes for someone to let her into the hospital's "dungeon," as she called it. No secretary or receptionist was there because it was Sunday, and she just had to wait for one of her coworkers, as the locked door was at the beginning of a long hallway that ended at the door to the main lab. Knocking was pointless.
Walking into the main lobby, she was distressed to see that even on a Wednesday, she could not count on there being a receptionist to give her either a temporary pass key or a time record slip on which to clock her hours for the day.
"Wonder-fucking-ful. What a surprise. Why should there be a receptionist today? It's Wednesday; you can't expect them to have a receptionist during the week," she mumbled.
"Yeah; if they did that, it's be almost as crazy as if they hired one for the weekend," a strange male voice remarked behind her. She turned, and saw a man with—an ID badge! It was turned around, so she only saw the back; it identified him as a fellow lab worker, but no more. She had not seen him around before, and he seemed lost.
'This is certainly convenient. I'll show the new guy where the lab is, and he'll even open the door because I'm such a nice lady.' Saundra thought wryly as she introduced herself to the somewhat younger man.
"Hi there! Are you new here? You look like a lost lab rat," she said, looking the man over. He was not her type, being about seven years or so her junior (at 35, she had become quite talented at guessing ages); but his smile seemed nice enough.
"Yes, I'm new. I was transferred from another hospital in this wonderful national network we have here. I'm Kurt, and I just got here from St. Luke's, yet another wonderful facility brought to you by TLC Health Systems. And, I must say, this place is as intelligently staffed as I've come to expect from our glorious company. Do you work here?" he asked. His sarcasm was proof positive that they worked for the same company.
"Yeah, I work here. In the med lab, like you do, from the look of your badge. I'm Saundra Blick. You have a strange accent—where is Mt. Vernon?" Saundra inquired politely as she began to walk towards their destination.
"Southern Illinois. I take it we're going to the room of doom?" he asked.
Saundra laughed out loud. "No, silly. We call it the dungeon 'round these parts. You look a little on edge. Have too much coffee?"
"Uh, no, not really. Let's just say I didn't ask for this job, and I hope it goes OK. Maybe it's that new hospital scent that's bugging me," he responded.
Saundra could sympathize; these interstate transfers were not unheard of and at least half the people already working in the lab came from other states—many from nearby Midwestern states, and more than a few from as far away as Florida and even Washington state. 'One thing unites us, though—our combined hatred for the company,' she mused in her mind as they approached the locked door to the lab area.
Turning to Kurt, she was about to ask him to open the door (he had been silent for a minute or so as he followed her) when she noticed he was holding an inhaler. She was still thinking 'Man, this guy must be King of Geeks' when he thrust one end into her slightly open mouth. The spray tasted like peppermint, except a lot better. It was so good, in fact, she didn't really notice when he put his arm around her, supporting her suddenly wobbly legs.
"That's it, Saundra. Let the drug do its work. Now, when you're ready, I want you to lead me to the lab. Will anybody be there?"
Kurt waited patiently for the chemical to completely entrance Saundra. The shocked look on her face gradually melted away, leaving only a somewhat blank stare.
"No. I come to work an hour before the lab opens, so I can surf the internet in peace," she replied.
'Good. I hit on just the right dose. But, I'd better get her out of here,' Kurt thought. His calculations on dosage were right-on; she was still able to speak somewhat normally, and even though she had a blank look on her face, she was able to maintain eye contact. But for the plan to work, they had to get out fast; she would only be conscious for a few more minutes.
He used the nametag he'd stolen from her car the night before to open the door to the lab access hallway, and once in the computer room adjacent to the lab, Kurt told Saundra to log in as she normally would. She did, and at his request, she loaded a website he'd anonymously posted that would reload several sites randomly in multiple frames. That way, by the time someone noticed that she wasn't there, they would have no idea when she left.
The computer room wasn't monitored by cameras like the main medical lab was, and looking around, Kurt found an emergency exit door. He swiped a card through the scanner near the door, and the alarm set to go off when the door was activated was disabled momentarily.
"Get up, Saundra. We have to go now," he told his captive. They walked out the door—which he knew was also not monitored by a camera—and they left in his car.
'Mmmmmmmm, that tastes gooooooood...' Saundra's foggy mind thought as she drifted blissfully back to consciousness. The taste lingered in her mouth, and she rolled around on the large bed she found herself on. But, the taste in her mouth was not the only pleasurable thing she was experiencing as she woke up.
'Ooooooooo, what was I dreaming about?' her mind asked as she felt her body gently tingling—no, not tingling, humming—with arousal. It was a dull, steady wave that matched her heartbeat; her whole body seemed alive with it. It was like when she woke up from a hot dream, but much stronger. Bringing her hands to her body, she parted her silk robe and ran her fingers over her satin chemise, teasing her nipples slightly through the slick material, delighting in the electric sensations coursing through her entire body.
She played on her body like a custom-made guitar for what seemed like an hour, never getting to an orgasm but delighting in the slowly rising tide of her body's desire. She doubted she had been this horny before, and the general sensation she was eliciting from her own body was so wonderful that she was content for the moment to just play—there was no need to rush for a quick orgasm. She just felt good.
Her mind began to clear, though, when she realized she didn't own a satin chemise or silk robe, and even if she did, she would not wake up in one—she slept naked. Opening her eyes, she found herself in a dimly lit room that contained a chest of drawers, a wall mirror on every wall (and the ceiling), and a large bed. She shot up out of bed so fast that she became dizzy and had to stumble to the chest of drawers. Gripping it for balance, she looked into the mirror to try and figure out what was going on. Gradually, the fog lifted from her head.
She found herself looking very good for someone who had apparently been kidnapped. Her hair was done fairly nicely—the curls cascaded down her back and appeared to have recently been brushed, even though she really didn't remember having curly hair earlier that day ('Assuming it's still Wednesday,' she thought to herself as she appraised her situation.). She was wearing a royal blue silk robe, and as she parted it, she noticed slightly-clashing dark purple satin chemise.
Something was beneath it, though; something hugging her skin tighter than any swimsuit she'd ever worn. Regaining her balance, she stood away from the dresser and examined the mirrored room.
Suddenly, in bright cyan letters, a message flashed on each of the mirrors: "TAKE OFF THE ROBE."
"Who are you? Where am I? What the fuck...." Saundra began as she clutched the skimpy garment to her body. "These are two-way mirrors, aren't they, you sick fuck! No way! Let me out of here or I'll... oh... what the...." Sandra's refusal was cut short when she felt something... odd.
For the first time since she'd been awake, she felt her body's tingling desire fade a little. She had become so used to the sensation that the slight diminution of it shocked her; she had stopped noticing the general feeling and only knew it was there when it suddenly started to decline in intensity. Her body actually began to ache a little, and she lessened her grip on her robe—causing it to fall open. The sensations promptly returned, a little stronger than before.
"I... will not take... off the robe... who are you?" she stammered as the sudden return of the warm sensation retook her body. She began to draw the robe closed again; this time, when she touched it, the feelings began to fade much more quickly. So quick was the loss of sensation that she got dizzy and dropped her hands to the nearby dresser, causing the robe to fall open again. The pleasing feeling returned, even stronger than before.
Saundra didn't like whatever game was being played with her body, but she could not formulate a plan to resist—much less escape—if she kept falling into that sickening vertigo. Knowing she had a garment or two on underneath the full-length robe, she dropped it to the floor to keep the feeling from fading away.
The feelings not only returned, but began to noticeably intensify. At first, her head cleared and she could think much more easily than she could a few moments before when she had tried to close her robe. But, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her body, from her breasts down to her now soaking-wet pussy, she lost the desire to try to think about her situation and settled back into the increasingly warm sensations permeating her flesh.
After a few minutes, though, the feeling went from subtle yet noticeable to downright violently pleasurable. Her body tensed up and convulsed as she fell to the floor, every nerve in her body screaming with orgasmic bliss. On her back and still cumming, she raised her gyrating hips up as her shoulders and head remained planted on the floor, causing the slick material of her violet chemise to slip up towards toward her body.
She opened her eyes when she realized that, even after a bout a full minute, her instant and unexplainable orgasm was not ending. She saw the undergarment for the first time—it was black and shimmering, with peach trim that matched her skin tone. It was also moving slightly; she could just make out undulating patterns in the oddly metallic-looking fabric.
Thrashing her head around, she saw another message in bright cyan letters flash across the mirrors. Keeping her head as still as she could, she read, "PINCH YOUR NIPPLES TO END THE CYCLE. YOU CANNOT TOLERATE IT FOR LONG."
In her deliriously blissful state, she was in no position to argue. Standing up and asking questions was out of the question. Reaching under her purple chemise, she found her very erect nipples poking through the thin, smooth material of the undergarment she was wearing. She pinched her nipples hard, and her orgasm spiked for a few seconds before stopping.
She took a deep breath, somehow both happy that the "cycle" was over and, at the same time, feeling that she'd have liked it to continue just a little longer. She passed out a few minutes later, her body humming slightly with arousal that a somehow calming effect on her.
When she awoke the next day, her royal blue robe was nowhere to be found. She got up, and the lights came up gradually. "Wakey-wakey time, I suppose," she said as she looked around her room. She noticed a slim, door-sized outline in one of the mirrors, and walking to it, it opened up into a full bathroom.
She had to relieve herself, and she looked for a way out of the suit. The first thing she noticed was that even though her undergarment had a metallic glimmer to it, it was as smooth as the silk robe she was wearing the day before. Lifting the bottom of the teddy she found herself in that morning (it was purple and very sheer), she looked closely at the crotch of her strange catsuit—or, to be more precise, the lack of a crotch in her catsuit.
The crotch was completely open, and her pussy and ass were both completely exposed. It was held in place by a thin strip of the material that rested on either side of her shaved nether lips. It fit so well that no matter how she twisted her body, the "lower straps" never crept up into her crotch. Examining the whole outfit through the transparent material of her teddy, she saw that it clung to her breasts and was very low-cut in front.
Examining her breasts a little more closely, she saw that the garment wasn't simply covering them tightly—it completely encased them. She cupped them with her hands to make sure. "What the fuck?" she said aloud. There seemed to be no way to take the outfit off; it fit too well and had no visible snaps, buttons, zippers, or latches.
Turning to her side and using the mirrors on all the walls, she saw that the back was also low-cut. The open slit in the outfit that exposed her pussy went all the way to the top of the crack of her ass; only the sides of her cheeks were really covered at all. In fact, the only thing connecting the back sides of the garment she wore was a wide strap of material, colored violet and somewhat thicker than the rest of the surrounding material.
"Whoever made this knew a little too much about my dimensions," she remarked.
"LEAVE THE SUIT ON. USE THE TOILET, AND TAKE A BATH. LEAVE THE SUIT ON."
Figuring it was at least a reasonable request, she complied. She felt like having a bath anyway; she usually did the morning after she had sex. The material didn't seem to be affected by the water in the tub, so she stayed in the tub, relaxing to the buzzing arousal of her flesh.
Returning to the bedroom, she saw a tray with some food on it on the bed and realized for the first time that she was really hungry. She ate the light meal quickly, and used the napkin provided to wipe any crumbs from her face. When she glanced up, she saw another message on the mirrored walls.
"SIT AT THE EDGE OF THE BED."
"Seems reasonable enough," she told herself as she sat on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror and the message on it.
It disappeared, and was replaced with, "SPREAD YOUR LEGS."
"What the fuck? No way! I don't have any... ungh..." Saundra moaned as the increased arousal that had now become simple background sensation was taken away. She felt physically ill this time, and her head drooped as nausea began to replace her horniness. In desperation, she spread her legs, exposing her hairless pussy to the mirror. The happy sensation returned again, this time so quickly that she arched her back in response; her hands automatically went to her tits and squeezed them slightly.
When she opened her eyes, the message had changed again: "PLAY WITH YOUR BREASTS."
Still reeling with the return of the artificial arousal her earlier obedience had reinstated, she slowly reached up to her tits, and began to caress them. At first, her motions were deliberately nonsexual; but, when the arousal in her body began to increase, she forgot that she was just playing along to avoid that sick feeling and actually began to massage them sensually.
Occasionally, she's pinch her nipples and tug on them a little; and as she continued her performance, her head began to roll from side to side, her mind slipping into the comfortable haze of sexual arousal and obedience.
"GET ON YOUR HANDS AND KNEES. EXPOSE YOURSELF TO ANY OF THE WALLS."
She was in the prescribed position before she even realized she had stopped touching her tits. Her body rocked back and forth a little as the lust in her loins picked up a little steam. 'At least whoever is doing this isn't making me touch myself...' she thought as she awaited her next instruction.
She remained in that position for quite some time, but never got sore for some reason. 'Probably has something to do with the suit,' she figured as a message flashed on the wall she was facing.
"REACH BETWEEN YOUR LEGS, AND WITH ONE FINGER, ENTER YOURSELF."
That request was enough to bring her mind out of the haze enough to resist. As sickness began to rack her stomach, her will seemed to be reinforced—she would not obey such a command. Strengthening herself against the increasing nausea, she said to the wall, "I will not. Who are you? Where am I?"
"OBEY."
The sickness doubled, and began to make it hard for her to speak. "Not... unless you tell... me... why... who... ungh...."
"OBEY. YOU WILL OBEY." This time, the letters were red.
"Who...," she asked before feeling so sick that she could no longer speak.
"YOU DO NOT ASK QUESTIONS. YOU ONLY OBEY. OBEDIENCE BRINGS PLEASURE."
She struggled for a few more minutes, now openly crying at the sensations being fed to her central nervous system through the back strap of her outfit. Finally wanting nothing more than for the feelings to stop, in defeat, she reached under herself, between her legs, and slid a finger easily into herself. Somehow, her body had remained very aroused the entire time, even if her mind didn't know it.
As her finger sank into her wetness, the awful feelings in her body were completely washed away and replaced with the familiar, strong buzz of total arousal. The switch was so sudden that, once again, she lost her train of thought and began to pump her finger in and out of herself with increasing speed. She added an extra finger, and then another. Her body was really responding to her expert manipulation of her pussy.
Adding to the fun, the suit was definitely doing something now. It was stimulating her nipples, almost sucking on them. It was driving her higher and higher into blindingly hot lust, and instinctively, she looked at the mirrors for any new messages. She saw one appear as soon as she looked up.
"HANDS DOWN. YOU HAVE OBEYED ME WELL. PREPARE FOR YOUR REWARD."
As much as it pained her to stop, she knew better than to resist. She removed her slick fingers from her pussy and gripped the flannel bed sheets as her entire body—down to her fingers and toes—was lit ablaze with an orgasmic fire so intense that she would not have been surprised if it left burn marks on her body. Her hips bucked in response to the stimulations that seemed to be fed into her through the warm strap across her back.
Screaming in release, and continuing to scream until she was out of breath, she hoped she'd be told how to break the current "cycle." 'Can't... stop... cumming...' she thought as she suffered her reward. 'Look... up! They will tell me...' her brain formulated as her body was tortured by an intense, unending orgasm.
"PUT TWO FINGERS IN YOUR PUSSY, AND SUCK THE MIDDLE FINGER OF YOUR OTHER HAND."
She obeyed instantly, and the sensations of her continuous climax increased—but didn't stop.
"WHEN THAT FINGER IN YOUR MOUTH IS WET ENOUGH, AND SLICK ENOUGH, VERY SLOWLY RUB YOUR ASSHOLE."
She had never done anything like that before, and for a moment, she hesitated. That hesitation was disastrous! Her body's orgasm continued, but at the same time, the nausea came back with more intensity than it had before. Realizing she could not take both sensations for long, she slowly reached her wet finger back, and began to rub her most taboo orifice.
Her eyes slammed shut as the orgasm she'd been fighting through for the past few minutes finally cadenced. She screamed so loud that she thought the mirrors might break, and when the flood of pleasure finally crested, she withdrew her fingers from her lower regions and curled into the fetal position, once again falling asleep to the buzz of her body's artificially aroused state.
Much of the next four days went like the first two. She'd wake up and have breakfast, read the seemingly random (yet undeniably perverse) messages, obey the easy ones, resist the disagreeable ones momentarily (her resistance each time was weaker than the time before), and finally give in. She had at least three long orgasms per day, each one inducing a lengthy nap. Every day, she found herself in a new outfit; the only constant was the undergarment that was clearly in control of her sensations.
On the seventh day, though, she woke up and there was no breakfast. It was the first day she didn't have any breakfast, but she was not about to complain. If she did, she knew what the consequences would be. There was a message for her when she woke up, though.
"KNEEL, CUMSLAVE."
Not caring for the name, she obeyed anyway. She was disappointed (but little relieved) when obeying that small order didn't end with a continuous orgasm. A new message appeared as she knelt, facing the wall.
"YOUR TRAINING IS COMPLETE. I NOW GIVE YOU A CHOICE."
Her attention was glued to the mirror; the words were her Master and she hung on every word that appeared on the walls.
"THERE IS A RELEASE BUTTON ON YOUR SLAVESUIT. IT IS VIOLET, AND IS LOCATED ON THE BACK PATCH OF YOUR SUIT. IF YOU WISH, YOU MAY PRESS IT, AND I WILL RELEASE YOU FROM ITS GRASP AND SHOW YOU THE EXIT. OR..."
She kept watching.
"IF YOU CHOOSE TO KEEP THE SUIT, YOU MUST SUBMIT TO ME, COMPLETELY. I WILL OWN YOUR MIND, YOUR BODY, AND YOUR SOUL. EVERYTHING THAT YOU ARE WILL BE MINE."
"YOU WILL, HOWEVER, GET TO KEEP YOUR NEW SLAVESUIT."
She had grown more than attached to the slavesuit. She liked the way it made her look, she liked the way it made her feel, and she loved the way it made her obey.
"IF YOU CHOOSE TO LEAVE, THE BUTTON IS WITHIN YOUR GRASP. IF YOU CHOOSE TO SUBMIT, LOWER YOUR EYES. YOUR OWNER WILL ARIVE IN A BLUE GOWN."
Without hesitation, Saundra lowered her head and put her hands, palm-up, on her knees. As she knew would happen, she felt the buzz surrounding her body build, and her arousal began to grow at such a rate that she didn't know how long she could stay still.
"She's all ready to meet her new Mistress; you can reinforce the training with this," Kurt said as he presented Hillary with the small controller. "Within a couple of weeks, the sensations the suit produces in her will be so ingrained in her mind that she will feel them any time she obeys you, even if she is not wearing it."
Hillary, Saundra's former coworker and now Mistress, smiled and took the control pad from Kurt. "I can't believe you did it. I mean, I've always wanted her... and now she's mine, totally?"
"Yes," Kurt said, matter-of-factly, as he began to leave the training chamber control room. "You can have some fun; I promise not to watch. Let yourself out before nightfall, or security might catch you."
Hillary looked through the mirror wall at her kneeling slave, and a tear rolled down her face. The longing she'd felt for the two years she'd worked with Saundra was about to be fulfilled. She turned one last time to Kurt.
"Thank you... for this. But, why...."
He turned around and smiled at the still mildly confused Hillary. "It's all you have ever talked about in the chatroom we met in. Since I needed a test subject for the system, and because the value of reliable data cannot be overstated, I decided to do this to give us both what we wanted. If it makes you feel better, though, then consider this a gift from an anonymous scientist."
He began to walk out of the room, but turned once more and added, "I'll have my videotapes sent to you so you can see how to effectively train her further—I don't know her sexual orientation, so some additional work that I could not provide for obvious reasons may be required."
Hillary was speechless, and turned back to her slave. Walking through the door hidden in one of the mirror panels, she went to Saundra.
Saundra, looking at the floor, saw the blue silk robe out of the corner of her eye and looked up, knowing her owner would be wearing the garment. As instructed, she looked into the eyes of her Mistress, and at Her command, the last of slave saundra's former personality was washed away in a mind- and will-shattering orgasm.
And, when it ended, she was happy beyond imagination that she had made the choice to give herself to the mysterious woman in blue.
© 2004, bobwhite, emc.bobwhite@gmail.com. All rights reserved.