Chapter 10.   The Cylinder Room

Stephanie proved remarkably easy to control.  I felt no need to have guards come along when I took her for her branding and later when I took her to the slave training facility.  Partly this was because she was handcuffed, but probably the most important reason was because her defense attorney had given her the standard briefing about how the ‘bio-implant’ in her neck made successful escape impossible, made non compliance pointless and also provided her masters, including myself, with the ability to render her instantly unconscious should she be in any way rebellious.  It wasn’t lost on her that I had, on my left wrist, a remote control to her implant.  She was a proud young woman and obviously had come to the conclusion that reluctant obedience was much preferable to being rendered unconscious.  

In one sense the first step in conditioning Stephanie to her new life had been the branding of the slave number upon her naked buttocks in front of the crowd.  But in another sense it began two days later when a local property auction firm hired by my client picked up Stephanie from the jail where she had been recuperating from her branding.  They took her to her own home where their appraisal team proceeded to inventory all her belongings in her presence.  I knew this was going to happen but did not hear the details of it until I talked to Stephanie later. 

The following day I decided to personally deliver her to the Richmond SlendaBond Slave Training facility.  I knew that this was a place where slaves were broken and, as it turned out I learned very much about how this would be done to Stephanie.  My new partner, Virginia Johnson, came along for this visit.  We made the long trip with Stephanie beside me on the front passenger seat and Virginia in the rear.  My partner knew why I would find this seating arrangement agreeable and gave me a conspiratorial wink.  The truth was I felt like taking certain liberties with Stephanie during the ride.  Her hands were cuffed behind her and the only clothing she wore was the short cape I had given her at the courthouse.  When she was standing it came down only to mid thigh.  When I helped her into the passenger seat the hem of the cape rode up even higher. and I made sure the hemline rode up almost to her crotch when I placed her in the seat.  She could not, of course, adjust the hemline for greater modesty as her hands were cuffed behind her.  

Her tanned legs fascinated me.  I longed to caress her left thigh and enjoy the feel of those long sleek muscles.  I longed to raise the hem of the skirt up to her waist that I might enjoy the sight of her curly red pubic hair and her womanhood.  My conscience stopped me from doing either of those things.  I believed the girl had been through quite enough stress already.  Also I believed these actions could be better tolerated by her once she was broken to her slavery. 

When we first got into the car she kept glancing nervously at the control device that I wore on my left wrist, which controlled her bio-implant.  I think she feared that at any moment I was going to use it to render her unconscious or to manipulate her body in some other way.

About an hour into the trip she had relaxed considerably.  Probably she decided I would not use the controller to harm her.  I noticed her quietly sobbing.

“Is there something distressing you Stephanie, apart from our destination today?”  I asked.

“Yes sir, Mr. Steele.   Yesterday some men picked me up at the jail and took me to my own home to appraise my belongings for possible auction.”

“I imagine they were there to appraise your furniture.” I said.

“Well they did that all right.  But they also went through my diary and all my personal papers, photographs, videos, scrapbooks, correspondence and all the little things that tell the story of a person’s life.  I felt like they just wanted to invade my privacy and cause me embarrassment.   They kept speculating aloud to their fellow workers how much the diary might bring at auction, how much the correspondence, etc.”

She began crying again and I noted that she was red faced with embarrassment even recalling this incident.  I also saw the tension in the muscles of her neck, shoulders and back.

“Stephanie, your furniture and your car will be auctioned.  But I may be able to help you with the personal items.  I can’t promise anything yet, but I will try to get possession of those items from the auctioneers and store them for you so that you may get them back after you have served your ten year indenture.”

“Thank you sir!”  After that she drifted off to sleep.

After about two hours we were well into a rural area and saw the long stone walls of a country estate.  We drove up to the gatehouse where a guard checked our slaver credentials before waving us through into the enclosed grounds.  As we drove up the long driveway to the main building we saw numerous scantily clad young people engaged in all sorts of grounds maintenance tasks.  It was surprising to see such a display of bare arms, bare midriffs and bare legs on this crisp fall day.  I supposed that if these tanned and fit employees all kept working at a brisk pace they would not get chilled.  I saw the telling non-citizen identification bracelets on the wrists of these workers.  Purely out of idle curiosity, I pointed my cell phone at one pretty young female worker who was trimming the bushes and downloaded her ID information so that I might retrieve her personal history files later. 

We drove the car around to the rear and pulled into the loading dock.  We noticed 3 mini-vans parked nearby. These bore the name of a widely respected non-profit slave advocacy organization.  I led Stephanie on her leash from the car to the rear entrance of the building.  Once inside we stepped up to a long counter and were soon acknowledged by a rather pretty female security officer.  Her badge and a stun gun at her belt proclaimed her no nonsense attitude.  She stepped briskly up to the counter.

“Name!”, she said.

“Bill Steelforth and my partner Virginia Johnson” I replied.

“Name of the slave please!”

“Stephanie Glenn” I responded, beginning to feel a bit cowed by this officious young woman.

“We were expecting you a half an hour ago Mr. Steelforth!“  We waited while the young security officer typed our names into a computer terminal.

“We have her file here.  It seems her enslavement order from the court is already on file.  I will just need you to sign our standard transfer form,” she said while shoving a long form with lots of legalese at me.  

I quickly glanced it over and signed where she indicated.  After completing the check in and obtaining a receipt for Stephanie, my partner and I proceeded to the central elevator bank.  Soon we found ourselves on the fourth floor where we walked down a richly carpeted and softly lit corridor hung with expensive looking paintings.  We had an appointment with the owner of this international firm, Morgan Richmond.  We did not have long to wait before his secretary announced us to him through the intercom. 

“Bill Steelforth and a Ms. Virginia Johnson to see you Mr. Richmond.”  Soon we were being escorted into his inner sanctum.  

“What brings the two of you to our neck of the woods, Bill?”  the old man asked, genially.  

“Virginia and I have long been curious as to how you so effectively break new recruits to a life of slavery and obedience” I replied.  “For my own part, I am particularly interested in how you will do it in the case of Miss Glenn.   She has got under my skin and I would really enjoy seeing what will happen to her!”

“Not so fast.  First I must object to your terminology.  We don’t ‘break’ slaves here, Bill.  To break someone implies damage that cannot be undone.  Everything we do here is designed to enhance our client’s experience of absolute control of the slave, yet everything we do must be completely reversible in nature.  When a slave’s term of indenture is completed or when the court orders a slave freed, we have to be able to restore that slave to the point that he or she can return to the life they had before enslavement.  The freed slave must be able to function independently just as before, and have all intellectual and physical abilities intact.”

“Secondly we don’t just grind out one uniform product here.  We fine tune our methods to produce the particular type of slave our clients most wish to have under their control.”  

“Fascinating!” I said. “Will I be able to see these methods used on Stephanie?”

“We may be able to show you the first stage today, Bill” Morgan replied.  But to see the later stages of her subjugation you will need to visit us again in about 30 days.”

“Why don’t I have our Training Director, Charlie Witherspoon, join us?”

I could hardly believe my ears.  Could it be?  Could this be the same Charles Witherspoon I had shared a drink with in a brothel in my youth?  The one who told me so excitedly about how he had raped an old high school classmate who had maliciously ruined his social life?  I saw the old man push an intercom button on his desk.

“Margaret, would you see if Charlie is available and send him in to join us?”

In a few minutes, when Charlie walked in, I stood and high fived him just like we had done at that brothel so many years before.

“I gather you two know each other!”  Morgan said.  Charlie quickly filled the old man in on the circumstances of our meeting at the brothel so many years earlier.  He seemed delighted to hear about our risqué experience of two decades earlier.  Even Virginia was amused.

“As we were driving up to the main building”, Morgan, “Virginia and I saw a lot of young people with non-citizen wrist bands toiling away on the grounds.  I was curious about that.”

“Non citizens are much cheaper than slaves, Bill.  They will work for low wages and we are not required by any law to provide them with health or retirement benefits, as we would be if they were slaves.  Most of them we hire by the day only, and these hires require no periodic examinations or record keeping or auditing by any outside organization.”
 
“In the main hallway of the building, Morgan, we passed a classroom full of slaves taking some sort of written test.  What is that all about?”

“We are required, under the “Kinder and Gentler Slavery” law, to administer tests once/month to all our slaves.  These test the slaves mental and emotional state as well as include physical and medical exams where we inspect for and document any bruises, cuts or injuries as well as any evidence of malnutrition. Any decline in a slave’s weight or mental, emotional or physical condition must be documented in our files.”

“What is the point of all that?”  I asked.

“As you know Bill, a slave has no standing to complain to any court or administrative body concerning his or her treatment while a slave.  But any certified slave advocacy organization can come in at any time and conduct an audit of these records that we are required to maintain.  There is an audit team in the building right now.”

“Yes, we were wondering about that”, Virginia interjected.  “We saw their vans out by the loading dock.”

“They have to be cross-licensed by the State of New York and by the Federal Government of Capitallia.  Besides auditing records,” Morgan continued, “they can also demand to do their own unannounced examination of any random sample of our slaves.  If they find we have abused a slave they can petition the court for us to forfeit possession of that slave.  We have always had good reports, but some of our competitors have gotten heavily penalized for not adhering to the standards of humane slave care specified in the statutes.”

“I am reassured to hear of all this, gentlemen!”  Virginia nodded her head in agreement.

“But that is the whole point”, Charlie replied.  “We want the public to be reassured so that there will be ever greater popular support for maintaining and even extending the slave system.”

“These two have been expressing interest in our training methods, Charlie.  Perhaps, if you are free just now, you could take them on a tour.”

“I have an hour or so.  Have they both signed the confidentiality agreement?”

“I was just getting to that.” Morgan said.  “I am sure you realize that much of what we do to the slaves in this facility is proprietary in nature.  We are not required to document or disclose our training methods under any law.  I must, therefore, insist that you both sign our standard “Confidentiality Agreement” before we can take you on a tour or discuss our methods with you.”  Morgan was handing us both clipboards with an agreement and a pen.

“Of course, Morgan.  No problem.”  I quickly put my signature where Morgan had indicated and handed it back to him, as did my partner.

“You might say our basic mission at Richmond SlendaBond”, Morgan continued, “is to take human beings who are already enslaved in a purely legal sense and turn them into human beings that are enslaved in every sense.  That is what we mean when we speak of ‘slave transformation’.  This is what will happen to your Stephanie.   When they come to us, fresh from a court judgment, they are usually angry, resentful, sullen, or outright rebellious.  They would sooner say ‘Fuck You! ‘ than they would obey an order we give them.  To be enslaved in the fullest sense means losing the ability or the will to resist servitude, losing the ability to say no to anyone in authority.”
  
“The reason our clients want to control human beings this completely could be a sexual one, or it could have to do with the need to protect business trade secrets or the need to protect a large investment in the training of specialized workers.”  

“Since many of them come to us under five, ten or twenty year indentures we have to be careful that what we do to them can be undone when it is time to return them to their lives as free men and women.  We are not permitted to injure their bodies or to inflict physical pain and we have to make sure that what we do to their minds is reversible.  Finally we must have the ability, before we can set them free, to erase from their minds specific knowledge of certain things they may have known or experienced during their slavery.”

“Can you tell us what kind of things would you erase from their minds?”  Virginia asked.

“Certainly”, Morgan continued.  “Knowledge of business trade secrets or proprietary knowledge of industrial processes.”

“Are there other things you would erase from their minds before setting them free?”  I asked.

“Things like the identity of particular people they were forced to serve sexually or the nature of the sexual services they were forced to provide to those people.  We couldn’t very well have a slave freed, at the end of an indenture, going out and writing a book and naming names!   If we are to have a robust market for slaves we must protect the privacy of those who use the slaves at all costs!”

“I see what you mean Morgan” I responded.  “Earlier you had mentioned that you don’t just ‘grind out one type of product’ as you put it.  Could you expand on that?”

“We turn out a variety of slave types here”, Bill, “to meet the desires of our clients.  One thing all our products have in common is that they all obey instantly and without question all orders they are given.  But the nature of that obedience can vary considerably”

“How so?”  Virginia asked.

“Since I knew you were coming, I arranged to have some of our products on display for your perusal.  Why don’t we all adjourn to the sales room now?   I think a little demonstration would be worth 1000 words.”  

Virginia and I followed Morgan and Charlie down the hall to a sales exhibition room.  It was a beautiful room with a high ceiling, rich carpeting and dramatic use of lighting and burgundy velour draperies.  What immediately drew my eye was a row of short pedestals on each of which stood a scantily clad slave.  There was one male slave wearing only a pair of short shorts, and four female slaves each wearing a brief sleeveless midriff baring top and a pair of short shorts.  Each slave was brilliantly lit by multiple spotlights somewhere up in the ceiling.  All were slender and physically fit, and all appeared to be in their early to mid twenties.  None was restrained in any way, but each stood on his or her pedestal apparently awaiting our pleasure.  I could see that my partner, Virginia, was letting her gaze rest first on the male’s biceps and impressive chest, then lower to the bulge in his shorts.  My eyes lingered on the flat tummies and long slender legs of the females.

“Why don’t we begin with a round of introductions” Morgan said, turning to the slaves.  “I want each of you to introduce yourself to our guests, tell us how you came to be enslaved, and how you feel about your slavery today.”

”My name is Henry,” said the first one, “and I was enslaved in a criminal proceeding as punishment for having embezzled money from my employer.  Mr. Richmond’s company bought me at a public auction.  I do not much enjoy being a slave but I have been ordered by a court to pay my debt to society.  I have ten years to serve.”

“My name is Laura,” the second slave stated, “and I was enslaved for debt by this fucking company after they bought up all my other debts.  I don’t think slavery should be legal and I certainly don’t think I should be here.  I will never get used to it.  I fight the slavery every chance I get, but something always makes me do whatever they command me to do.”

“My name is Susan,” the third stated, “and I played a high stakes game of chance.  I gambled my freedom against the possibility of a big cash prize.  I lost.  I don’t like being a slave but I guess it is best I cooperate.  It will go easier for me that way.”

“My name is Mary,” the fourth said, “and I too was enslaved for debt.  Slavery has been very good for me because it has taught me my place in the world and a proper respect for people who are my ‘betters’.  I have learned that it is a sin to be ‘uppity’ and that I am most comfortable when other people are exercising their rightful authority over me.” 

“My name is Cocoa,” the last one, a beautiful black girl, said, “and I’m here because I just think slavery is so cool. NOT!  I dreamed of a life like this since I was a little girl.  NOT!”

“Well, Bill and Virginia, you have met a diverse group of our products in training– our criminal slave, our rebellious slave, our cooperative slave, our submissive slave, and our saucy slave!  Despite their various attitudes the one thing they all have in common is that they all do obey.  Under the ‘Kinder and Gentler Slavery Law’ we may not resort to physical punishment or the threat of physical punishment to keep them under control.  But there is nothing in the law that says we can’t coerce them.  Slavery without coercion would be a contradiction in terms.  Let me give you a little demonstration of how we do control them.”

“Susan, Mary, Cocoa- Display Now!”  Morgan spoke, addressing the three slaves on one end of the row of pedestals.  

We were then treated to three female slaves pushing their shorts and panties down to their knees, and standing in place, with their legs well separated, awaiting further orders.  I could not help but admire their fine young bodies and erect postures.  We were impressed too by their attitudes.  Smiling faces and no sign of anger or resentment at what they were being made to do.

With them all on pedestals, our eyes were at crotch level.  Virginia was impressed by their instant obedience of course, but, not being a lesbian, showed little interest in their bodies.  I, on the other hand, walked up and down the line, studying the buttocks and genitals of each of these three beauties.  I was astonished to note that all they all had rings surgically installed in their private parts to which a leash might be attached.  One had a labia ring and the other two had rings piercing their clitoral cowls.

“In our culture”, Morgan continued, “free women who are also citizens do not expose their genitals in mixed company for any reason and certainly not on command.  These three had been free citizens until quite recently.  So it was a true test of their obedience that they exposed themselves completely and without hesitation when commanded to do so.  In slave societies of the past this sort of obedience was generally obtained by whippings or other physical punishments, the threat of such punishments, or by withholding necessary things like food or water.  We are not allowed to do any of those things to our slaves, yet we get the obedience we want from them.”

“Is it because you win them over with kindness?”  I asked, half seriously.

“Hardly.  The women we get are almost always experiencing slavery for the first time.  They are angry and resentful toward us for the role we played in reducing them to bondage.  The last thing they want to do is cooperate with us voluntarily.”

“Then how?”  Virginia asked.

Morgan motioned for us all to follow him into a private office at one end of the sales exhibition area where we could talk without being overheard by the slaves.

“We use means of coercion that are not against the law,” Morgan continued, “means that do not involve the application of physical pain or physical injury.  It comes down to mind control whether it is done through the bio-implants they all have, through drugs or through hypnosis.”

“Do the women know that they are being coerced and how they are being coerced?” I asked.

“Yes and no.  In the case of Susan and Cocoa the answer is yes.  They are very conscious of the coercion and how it works, though it works in different ways for each of them.”

“Mary’s case is quite different.  When she came to us she was defiant.  She felt she had been unjustly imbonded.  We subjected her to not only the usual mind control techniques, but also to an extra layer of brainwashing designed to produce the personality you now see.  She now feels herself inferior to us and finds it perfectly natural that we, or others who may be placed over her, should be able to order her to push her shorts down!”

Morgan led us back out to the display area and we all gathered in front of Laura.

“If you think I am going to display my privates to all you perverts, you are very much mistaken!”  an angry Laura said.  I could see the hostility in her eyes and the cords standing out on the sides of her neck.”

“Laura- Display Now!”  Morgan spoke while continuing eye contact with Laura.  We watched with great interest as Laura pushed her shorts and panties down to her knees, exposing her lovely vulva and pubic hair.  We all saw that she, like the other women, had a ring surgically installed through her clitoris.  Her whole body was tense.  She seemed aware of what she had just done, yet unable to stop herself from doing it.  It was as though she had lost volitional control of her own body.  I noted the tensing of the muscles in her buttocks and in her shoulders as she did this, apparently angry at having had her volitional control taken away and at having been made to expose her self.

“Laura is showing us right now”, Morgan continued, “verbal rebellion but behavioral obedience.   We could also suppress the verbal rebellion in her but some clients like that.  Other clients might prefer to see a girl expressing her rebellion only in her body language – in the tensing of her muscles and her facial expressions, while presenting herself as both verbally and behaviorally compliant.  We try to please all types of customers.”

I saw Morgan whisper to Virginia and hand her a 3 x 5 card with some instructions to read.  Virginia stepped up close to Henry, her eyes only about a foot from his shorts.

“I don’t show my package to no woman!”  Henry said defiantly.  I could see his calves and biceps flex as though he might be preparing for a fight.

“Henry- Display Now!”  Virginia spoke while making intense eye contact with Henry.  I saw him proceed to push his shorts and briefs down to his knees, exposing his magnificent endowments to Virginia at close range.  His whole body was tense.  Like Laura he seemed aware of what he had just done, yet had been unable to stop himself from doing it.  Virginia was fascinated.  Even from a distance I could not help but be impressed, as his flaccid penis was long and thick and not circumcised, his hairy scrotum hung low and contained two very large balls.  Henry was aware of his nakedness and where we were all looking, and showed some signs of embarrassment, but mostly he looked angry.

“Chill, Henry!”  Virginia shouted at him, still reading from her cue card.  We saw him visibly relax all his muscles and stand naturally.

“Vanilla ladder!”  Virginia called out, locking eyes with Henry.  We saw a subtle shift in his stance and facial expression, and his eyes took on a somewhat glazed appearance. 

“Henry- Erect Now!”  Virginia ordered while continuing eye contact.  Clearly she was reading this command from the card as she would never have had the audacity to say this on her own.  Virginia showed signs of amazement as Henry’s penis began to grow and stiffen before our eyes until it was hard as a rock, while his scrotum tightened pulling those huge balls closer to his groin.

“Henry- Stand Down!” Virginia ordered.  That huge penis deflated as quickly as it had grown and the scrotum loosened dropping the balls back into their original position.  Henry looked disappointed.  

Now Morgan handed me a card with some commands on it and indicated I should address myself to Laura.

“Green Moon!” I said, reading from the card, and making eye contact with Laura.  I saw a subtle change in her posture and facial expression, and her eyes took on that glazed appearance we had seen a few moments before with Henry.

“Laura- Arousal Now!”  I commanded while reading from the card and making eye contact with her.  We watched with interest as Laura’s labia began to engorge and her little clitoris began to extend from its protective hood.  Again I noted the tensing of the muscles in her neck and shoulders and was surprised when she said “You have no right to do this to my body, Mr. Steelforth!”  I just smiled at her as did Morgan.

“Laura- Juice Now!”  I commanded while continuing to make eye contact with Laura.  I was fascinated to see sticky sexual lubricant fluid seeping out of her vulva and running down her thighs.  The odor of her sexual fluids was very much in the air.  I inhaled deeply since Laura was an attractive girl and I was much enjoying the smell of her private parts.  By this time Laura looked absolutely mortified at the way her body was betraying her, even as she stared daggers at me.

“Eyes bright!”  Morgan said while addressing both Henry and Laura.  Suddenly I saw their posture and facial expressions return to normal and the glassy eyes disappear.  Both of them looked acutely embarrassed at what they had been made to do.

“With these two slaves,” Morgan continued, addressing Virginia and myself, “you first saw that there was instant obedience to the ‘Display Now!’ command, even though there were both verbal and postural cues that their attitudes were rebellious.  Some of our clients enjoy overcoming rebelliousness in a slave like Laura or Henry, and we give them the tools to do that.  In fact Laura and Henry were both forced to expose themselves for us by what we call ‘post-hypnotic suggestions’.  This does not require that they be under hypnosis at the time, but certain cue phrases have been planted in their brains that they are helpless to resist.  The phrase ‘Display Now’ would be an example of such a cue phrase.”

“With these two slaves you have also seen what we call ‘direct hypnotic trance control’ which acts directly on both the slave’s conscious and unconscious mind.  It enables us to command his or her body in ways he or she could not consciously command on his own.  This higher level of control is required if we are to force a slave to have a sexual response as we did with these two.  This type of control requires no cooperation or consent from the slave.  The slave is aware at all times that his or her body seems to have a will of its own.”

“With the other three, you saw that they pushed their shorts down when ordered to do so, and without the need for me to invoke trance control.  With them it was not even necessary to use post-hypnotic suggestions.  Their obedience is based on something else.”

“What is that, Morgan?”

“I thought you would never ask.  In the case of Susan obedience was achieved because she knows that if she did not we would immediately invoke either post-hypnotic suggestions or direct trance control.  She obeys ‘voluntarily’ because she knows being put under hypnotic controls would not only deprive her of full control of her own body, but result in her literally being compelled to do that which she had moments earlier refused to do.  She would then have full awareness that her body is obeying us against her will and no ability to stop her body from carrying out our commands.  Thus she knows that disobedience is absolutely futile!   There is a severe loss of dignity in that.”

“In the case of Cocoa, who just arrived today and has not begun her mind control training, obedience was achieved because she fears the possibility that any disobedience might cause us to render her unconscious through her bio-implant.  There is a severe loss of dignity in that.  The control in her case is essentially fear based.”

“The compliance you have gotten from Stephanie prior to her training is similar to that we are getting from our untrained Cocoa here.  After training Stephanie will obey us for the same reason Susan did - because she will have experienced just how our mind control techniques can render her own rebellious tendencies futile and will want to avoid, at all costs, pushing us to invoke that type of control.  This is the most flexible form of slave control since it requires no trance and is not limited to specific previously implanted key phrases.   Also it is not fear based which is a major goal of this enterprise.”

“Now that you have seen the diversity of our products, it is time for you to take the tour with Charlie and let him show you how we produce slaves with these various tendencies.  We have focused on the goals of slave transformation so far.  Charlie will show you how it is done.

Virginia and I said goodbye to Morgan and followed Charlie out of the sales room and then down an elevator to a subterranean level of the building.  As the elevator made its way downward, Charlie began to explain what I was about to see.

“You should realize Bill and Virginia, it is crucial that we have the ability to impose our mind control techniques on even the most resistant subjects.   Many who come through our facility will have heard of hypnosis, are very much afraid it will be used on them, and are determined to resist.   But their ability to resist will depend on their remaining oriented to the reality around them.   That awareness is what we take from them with the help of sensory deprivation and the bio-implants.   Let us go into what we call the ‘cylinder’ room and see some of our subjects undergoing sensory deprivation.” 

We emerged on a large open floor with a ceiling that was perhaps 14 foot high.  My eyes were immediately drawn to a row of twenty vertical cylinders made of clear glass, each about eight feet tall and three feet in diameter.  What was striking about these was that each cylinder contained a naked human being, apparently suspended in some clear liquid medium that came up a foot or so higher than head level. These suspended humans had various wires attached to them and tubes coming out of them.  Next to each cylinder there was some sort of control console with all sorts of monitoring instruments.  The room had a surreal look because overall lighting was dim with the cylinders, their naked occupants and the control consoles brilliantly lit up by contrast.

We stood next to the first two cylinders that plainly contained young women.  Further down the row I could see that some of the cylinders contained young men.  In all of these the nude occupants were restrained by handcuffs and ankle shackles.  In all of them the occupants were hooked up to breathing tubes and I could observe the level of liquid in the cylinders subtly rising and falling in time with their respirations.  Fortunately these breathing tubes hid little of their faces from view.  Their eyelids were taped shut.  My impression was that the two women nearest us were asleep and perhaps enjoying a pleasant dream judging by their fleeting facial expressions.   Each had a urinary catheter emerging from her vulva and leading to a clear external cylinder that appeared to be about half full of urine.  Charlie carefully studied my facial expressions for a while to judge my responses to all this, then began to offer me an explanation.

“Virginia, this is the first major stage in each slave’s basic training.  What we do here is subject them to sensory deprivation so that we can control what they take in through whatever senses remain to them.   Right now they are largely resting and blissfully unaware of their surroundings.   We are placing them all into a hypnotic trance by means of subliminal audio superimposed on a music track.   This is being fed directly into their brains by means of the bio-implants.”

“Why hypnosis, Charlie?”  I queried.

“The thing you need to understand, Bill, is that we condition all our slaves to obey verbal commands.  That is so that we can sell them or rent them out to our customers and know that our customer, in turn, will be able to control them.  The customer cannot rely on the threat of physical punishment to force obedience, any more than we can here, since physical punishments in the form of whippings, beatings and the like are against our kinder, gentler slavery laws.   Some other control mechanism is needed.  We have found that post-hypnotic suggestions are the best way to achieve that kind of unthinking obedience from a human being.”

Just then I saw Charlie walk over to the operator at the controls of cylinder number three and whisper something to her.   A minute or so later I saw the naked young woman who was inside that cylinder begin to buck and flex and un-flex her body repeatedly within the confines of her cylinder.   I walked quickly over to stand next to this cylinder where Charlie also was.   Then to my amazement I saw the nude occupant use her hands, which had been cuffed in front, to rub her vulva and diddle her clitoris, even as I saw further evidence of tensing of all the different muscles in her body.   She clearly appeared to be in some sort of sexual arousal.

“Charlie, doesn’t she have any inhibitions about masturbating like this with people watching her?”  I said.

“That is one of the beauties of this whole setup, Bill.   She doesn’t know anyone is watching her.  She is in a deep hypnotic trance and we are feeding suggestions to her with our subliminal audio that tell her she is at home in the privacy of her own bed!   She has no idea that a couple of men and various control employees are watching her every move.”

“But surely some slaves are going to be very resistant to hypnosis, aren’t they?”

“Ah, resistance!   That is where the bio-implants really come in handy.  They enable us to detect certain patterns of neural activity that suggest the subject is trying to resist the hypnosis.  When we detect such patterns we send signals directly into the subject’s brain that cause feelings of nausea.  It is not long before the subjects learn to turn away from any resistant thoughts!”

“Fantastic!” I said.

“But it goes even further.  When the bio-implants detect patterns of neural activity suggesting cooperation with the hypnosis, our operators are able to send signals of sexual pleasure directly into the subject’s brain through his or her implant.”

“Our techniques are so powerful now,” Charlie continued “with the help of the bio-implants, that not one slave in the last 500 processed at this facility has been able to resist the hypnotic induction or the successful planting of all needed post-hypnotic code commands.”

I marveled at all this.  It was the most exciting breakthrough in slave training I had heard in many years.  And it completely eliminated the need for any sort of physical brutality such as whippings, beatings or electro-shock.  All the desired control over human behavior could be achieved in ways that met the new kinder, gentler ethic of slave management.   As I watched the show in the cylinder was becoming even more frenzied.  It wasn’t every day I got to watch a beautiful young woman masturbating for real who was not even conscious that she had an audience!   Just then the cute young lady at the controls of her tank spoke up.

“Mr. Witherspoon, the girl is very near climax.  Should I stop her?”

“No, Betty.  Let her climax.  I think it will be a nice treat for our guests to see.”

The young woman was massaging her genitals in a frenzy and tensing every muscle in her arms and legs.  Soon all this built to a crescendo, then stopped.   I saw the most beautiful relaxed look on the young woman’s face.  This was one of the most beautiful sights I had seen in a long while.   I felt very privileged to have been witness to this very special intimate moment in a slave’s life.   I wanted to know more about this young woman – her name, who she had been before her enslavement, if she had ever been married, and so much more.  I turned to Charlie and started to ask, but he anticipated me.

“Bill, most of what you probably want to ask me is on that sign on the other side of her cylinder.  Go ahead and read it.”

I walked around to the other side and learned that her name was Jennifer Maisten, that she was single and had been a member of the corps de ballet of the National Ballet of Capitallia.  She would probably know Vivienne, the dancer I had helped get back into the ballet company as a professional slave.   I wondered if this Jennifer might need a similar favor from me.

“You are probably wondering if we plan to let her pursue her ballet career while a slave.  Rest assured we do.  You don’t need to make this one your special project.”

“I wonder if I could have something as a souvenir – perhaps a photo of her or something?”

“I can do better than that.  How would you each like a video disk of that whole masturbation you just saw?”

“That would be fantastic!”  I said.  Virginia said she would pass on that.  Fortunately neither Charlie nor I needed to ask the young dancer if that was all right with her.  She had no rights anymore.

I looked further down the row of cylinders and saw that two technicians were bringing in a very sedated and naked Stephanie Glenn.   I noted that they were headed for one cylinder that was empty.   One of the technicians fitted her with a breathing tube and urinary catheter, while the other technician secured a lifting harness around her shoulders.   Her hands were cuffed in front with shiny steel handcuffs.   Soon an electric hoist raised her high in the air and over the cylinder and lowered her into the clear liquid.

“We will begin the process of hypnotic induction”, Charlie continued, “with your Stephanie just as we have with the others.   Within a few days she will have learned to obey a whole range of post-hypnotic commands.   Once we have secured her unconditional obedience to commands, we can concentrate on developing the particular attitudes in her that will be pleasing to whoever is going to have ultimate use and control of her person.”

“Now that must be the whole point of what Morgan was demonstrating to us up in the sales room with the five slaves on the pedestals”, I said.

“That’s right.  Some slaveholders want a more or less forced obedience.  They want the pleasure of controlling a slave who obeys because she must, not because slavery is natural to her or comfortable for her in any way.   She obeys ‘voluntarily’ because she knows that failure to do so or hesitation in obeying commands will result in her being compelled by the post-hypnotic suggestions to the point of losing control of her own body.  This will be the case for your Stephanie because she has been requisitioned by a client who wants exactly that kind of compulsory obedience from her.”

“Who is the client?”  I asked.

“Sorry Bill, but I cannot reveal that at this time.   You will be informed when her training is complete and we have turned her over to the control of that client.   I know you are eager to follow Stephanie’s training, but she will be in the sensory deprivation cylinder for about the next three weeks.   If you watched that it would be like watching paint dry.   What I would suggest is that we call it a wrap for today with an invitation to come back and see how Stephanie has progressed 30 days from now.”

“Sounds good Charlie.”  We shook hands and he walked me out to where my car was parked.

Note:  If you are enjoying this story author would appreciate feedback to dondaverse (at) yahoo (dot) com.