"Well, one thing is for certain," Charity thought as she drove her car through the dark city streets with the heat blasting, "I know I won't get raped."
Per Keyholder's instructions, Charity wore only a pretty, little black dress. She was even driving barefoot. She knew that she should be terrified about what was going on. On the contrary, she felt like finally after all these weeks she was able to actively do something to help find or free Blue from her abductors. She actually felt empowered.
It had taken a little work to explain to Hope that she had to leave to run this errand. It was surprisingly simple, though, to suggest that Hope should await her return in the cage under the master bed. In fact, Hope seemed to want to go there. When the two arrived at the bedroom, Hope got down on her hands and knees and crawled inside. Charity tried to communicate that Hope should leave the cage door slightly ajar so she could get out if she wanted, but as soon as Hope was in the cage, she turned and yanked the door closed with a forceful tug.
Charity decided that Hope would be okay. She flipped a switch that started up a fan for ventilation. It was a pretty cozy space. The base was padded and comfortable. There was a nice pillow and duvet. Charity had slept there many nights. It felt safe, isolated, and protective. But, it was a cage.
"Turn right in 600 yards on South Rope Street," the Goze app on her phone announced in a pleasant voice. Somehow Keyholder was sending directions through the app. There was no specific destination drawn on the app's city map, but she was receiving instructions that were taking her to the outskirts of the restaurant district. Most businesses in this section of town were closed for the night. "Turn Left on East Cascade Avenue. Your destination is on the right."
Charity's phone beeped - a text message from Keyholder instructing Charity to park along the road. After she had turned off the engine, a few more text messages arrived explaining what Charity was required to do. After reading each message, Charity looked up and down the street. There were only a handful of cars parked along this stretch of road. Charity examined each one closely. The businesses along here had residences above them. Only a few had lights pouring through windows.
Finally a message arrived: "There is your target. Go!"
A woman had stepped out of a building onto the sidewalk. She was standing under a street light, talking on the phone. Charity took a deep breath and opened her car door. She knew that Keyholder was trying to humiliate Charity. "I'm doing this for Blue," she said to herself and all her nervousness melted away. She had her instructions and this would all be over soon enough.
The pavement was cold on her bare soles. Charity was gritting her teeth every time she stepped on a bit of loose gravel. Her dress was backless, but adrenaline kept her from getting too chilly as she quietly made her way towards the woman. She took one last look up and down the street. Was there someone in the white Toyota sedan across the street? "Ok," Charity told herself. "Let's do this."
"Hello?" Charity approached the woman, who looked up from her phone conversation. Charity then followed Keyholder's script. "I was told that you have the key to my chastity belt."
"What?" the woman said then she mumbled something into the phone, "There's some woman..."
Charity pushed the straps of her black dress off her shoulders and the sleek material slipped down over her hips and pooled at her feet on the ground. She stepped out of the dress, now naked. "I'm very horny, and was told that you have the key to my chastity belt." Charity began knocking on the faceplate which made a very distinctive tapping sound.
The woman on the phone looked at Charity, shocked, "What the fuck!?" Charity made sure to get a good look at the woman. She didn't recognize her, but she made sure to study her features. "You need to go away from me!" the woman was saying. "I'm going to call the police!" Then she was talking on the phone again, "...some crazy naked bitch out here wearing some kind of metal underwear..."
Her task was now complete. As per Keyholder's script Charity turned and jogged back to her car, leaving her dress behind. When Charity was safely back in her vehicle, she looked back up the street. The woman on the phone had disappeared back into the safety of a nearby building. Charity saw the lights of the Toyota turn on and the car pulled out into the road and drove away.
"That car has to have been Keyholder," Charity thought and she smiled despite herself. She grabbed the camera she had left on the passenger seat and browsed through the pictures that she had taken of the area before she stepped out of her car. She could clearly make out the license plate of the Toyota in the photo. "You don't fuck around with me!" Charity thought.
She turned on her car and drove home naked. Keyholder's ploy had backfired. She did not feel humiliated standing naked before some anonymous woman. She felt victorious. Adrenaline surged through her body. She actually felt elated. She thought about the naked woman locked in the cage under her bed. "Holy shit! I am horny!" she thought. Chastity closed her eyes to picture Blue.
"I hope that Hope is ok."
<>--+-
Journal Entry 4:
Subject: Ash Adams - p-FEAR Installation
Hands
QM: Rainbow
When one has 'agency' that means that one can take action to produce a particular effect. As humans, most often it is our hands that allow us agency over physical objects in our environments. Mostly, we take this for granted...
Our current subject, Ash Adams, was provided a waiting period after her permanent breast restraint hardware was installed. She was subjected to a variety of the features that the hardware allowed including pain, but mostly pleasure. The combination of boredom, conditioning, a cocktail of aphrodisiacs, and the more pleasurable stimulations from the breast restraints left the subject particularly aroused at all times. A variety of sex toys were provided - false phalluses, vibrators, etc. - of which the subject made great use.
Soon after the installation of the breast restraints we removed all the nail beds from her fingers and toes and capped the ends of each digit with tight sheaths of titanium. Without the benefit of repeated experimentation with multiple subjects, one may be surprised to find that the discovery of the loss of fingernails produced only a minimum of emotional trauma in the subject. Within several sleep cycles, in fact, the subject seems to become adept at using the new finger shields to their greatest benefit while masturbating. This result is evidence of the evolution of the subject's mental state transitioning to a reality where sexual arousal eclipses all other concerns.
Once measurements indicate that the subject has reached an acceptable equilibrium with her current environment and stimuli, it is time to move to the next phase of her conditioning - the removal of 'agency'.
When the time arrived, the subject was thoroughly anesthetized and the surgical cart was drawn into Isolation Theater 3. First, a hole was bored through each of the subject's hands mid-palm between the fore and middle finger bones - that is, the second and third metacarpal bones. Metal piping with a quarter inch open diameter was inserted through the holes and flanges were clamped tightly at either end. Normally such an installation has a permanent, though minor, negative impact on the subject's hand dexterity. For our purposes, the impacts are immaterial.
The subject was kept unconscious for some time for healing. Our desire is that the subject finds each modification to be something that is beautiful, perfect and good - not a painful open wound. Time is required to dress the wounds appropriately to make the desired presentation.
