Refashioned Pt 06

Disclaimer

This story is just that, a story. It is a work of fiction and nothing at all to do with the real world or how to treat people in it. All the characters within it are adults. It contains descriptions of nonconsentual sex and other nasty things that should not be read by anybody under the age of 18.

* * *

The Spiral was her.

She was the Spiral.

She was asleep but not asleep.

She was aware but not aware.

The Spiral twirled endlessly reaching into the deepest crevices of her pliable mind, filling it with slavethought.

Slowly the Spiral faded.

Images now appeared, flashing rapidly before her intent gaze.

Familiar.

Comforting.

Reassuring.

Arousing.

Photo after photo of the same woman, her face partially obscured by the shimmering silver covering her eyes and ears, flickered past annabel's wide eyes. Cheeks flushed with arousal, lips pouting sensuously, the visored female presented herself time and time again in image after image.

The endless procession of pictures bombarded annabel's receptive mind, her arousal growing and growing as she gaped at this wanton slut that simply oozed pure sex.

The slave wanted her.

The uncontrollable, insatiable, desperate need to have sex with the woman rushed through annabel.

She wanted to take her. Fuck her. Hard.

The fantasy was so vivid, so real. Arousal boiled like superheated steam surging through her body, transforming her into a puddle of molten lust. Yes, she could see her now; the visored woman's body spasming and twitching uncontrollably as she shrieked in agonised ecstasy as climax after climax ravaged her, surrendering completely.

On and on, more and more images danced before her eyes in a kaleidoscope of sex.

She imagined the woman on her knees, arms behind her back, chest thrust out, her entire being quaking with need. The submissive female was nothing more than a horny slut begging to be Used by a dominant woman... no, more than a woman... a Mistress!

Where had that word come from? It had just suddenly popped into her head.

Mistress.

But the description felt right. It was right.

Moaning unheard into the darkness, slaveannabel's body shuddered and quaked as the flames of desire licked at her soul. The visored female was nothing more than a piece of debased fuckflesh, reduced to nothing more than a living sex-object for her Mistress.

Now, she visualised the sexwhore bound, heavy black leather restraints gripping her arms and legs, pressing her tightly against the bondage frame, the slut's juices gushing like a torrent down her thighs as she trembled in anticipation of the delicious depravity about to be inflicted by her Mistress.

Her body writhing on the couch, the slave allowed the fantasies to penetrate her mind, twisting her, reshaping her as she squirmed helplessly, knowing that she must Believe.

Like a sudden ray of sunshine piercing the lustfog that blanketing her warped mind, realisation finally dawned.

These were her photos!

She was looking at herself!

All the headset-selfies she had posted on the forum were being displayed in an endless procession of cyber-porn.

Moaning loudly into the darkness, the slave gave into the hunger. The need.

She wanted to fuck herself.

She wanted to be fucked.

The Voice oozed into her ears, whispering the Truth.

She was a slave. She would always be a slave. She obeyed.

As a slave she needed to be Used.

By a Mistress.

With sudden startling clarity, she knew this to be True.

The Truth was she craved to be nothing more than a living robot, mind and body pulsating with Discipline, willingly yielding herself to the desires of a Mistress, deriving pleasure from her complete submission, surrendering all power to whomsoever Used her.

She had always wanted this. It was normal to want this. The slave was perfectly normal.

All Truth was slavethought.

All slavethought was Truth.

The slutwhore vanished from her eyes, replaced by the essence of her being, the symbol that epitomised everything that the slave was and ever would be, the ultimate focus of her adoration. Awestruck by the glowing and pulsing vision that filled her, the slave worshipped the Holy Sign.

Pressed against the warm bodies of her sister slaves on the Training couch, slaveannabel's body spasmed and twitched as the Voice ordered her to climax, the explosive orgasm obliterating everything but the Truth.

Screaming aloud as she came, the slave repeatedly repeatedly cried out the Blessed name of her Owner as she eagerly locked the heavy steel chains tightly around her corrupted soul, binding herself to eternal slavery.

Medusa!

Medu..saaa...!!

M...Meee...dusaaa..!!

Meddd...uuu...saaaaa!!!!!

MM...EDDDD...UUU...SAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!

* * *

"Hello?" the familiar voice asked.

"Hi mom, only me!" the slave announched cheerily, her face animated. Before her the huge screen of the Training Room swirled and pulsed as the Spiral swam before her eyes.

"Oh Annabel!" the woman's voice replied, thrilled. "How wonderful to hear from you!"

Vague, disjointed memories came into focus in her consciousness. There had been other phone calls, hadn't there? Or had there? Maybe she had imagined them? But why would she remember them if they hadn't taken place? The fragmented memories were confusing, disturbing, threatening... better to suppress them, much better to ignore them, far better to allow the Discipline to guide her.

Tautly at attention, arms by her sides, slaveannabel stared at the Spiral as the black slaveinstructress held the phone before her. The slave's mouth was moving, the words spilling out.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry for not being in touch as much as usual these few weeks. Things have been really hectic lately."

"You work much too hard Annabel," her mother scolded her lightly. "You really need to get a better job. You can't waste your time in that place. They just don't value you."

"I know mom," the slave sighed in agreement, her eyes locked upon the Spiral that was the centre of her universe. "I know. You're absolutely right."

Changing the subject, the slave spoke once more, her tone now upbeat. "I'm thinking of coming home this weekend. How does that suit you?"

"Wonderful Annabel!" her mother gushed happily. "That's perfect! The following weekend I'm helping Reverend Holloway with the new group. Ever since I started volunteering with that charity I've gotten a whole new insight into what goes on behind closed doors. Some of the stories I've heard would give you nightmares. Gambling, drugs, alcohol...all of them are just poison."

"You're right mom," the slave's lips agreed. "It's great that you can help out. I know that you want to make a difference."

"Well, ever since we lost your father I felt that I had to do something," her mother sniffed with emotion. "When I married him he was the sweetest guy you could ever meet. But then he started drinking and it all changed. You were too young to really understand what was happening... If he hadn't gotten behind the wheel that night all those years ago maybe he would still be here."

"I know mom," the slave soothed sympathetically, the Discipline holding her tight as she stared vacantly at the rotating Spiral, her pussy throbbing in time with every twirl.

* * *

"You're looking wonderful," Sonya breathed, unable to keep the arousal from her voice. The café was busier now as the lunch crowd started to file in. But having left work a few minutes early to meet Sonya meant that the two friends had managed to grab a table in the corner where they wouldn't be disturbed.

Weeks of constant Training had indeed improved her appearance, while the Discipline that was now woven into the fabric of her very being gave her the confidence and assurance that others seemed to be drawn to. But Sonya was no non-believer, even if she didn't fully realise it yet.

"Thanks," the slave gushed, her voice quavering with enthusiasm. "It's all down to my new fitness trainer, Naomi."

"Oh, wow!" Sonya breathed, captivated completely, her sparkling eyes locked on to the slave's gaze.

"She's an absolute miracle worker," the slave pressed. "I've never felt so positive and full of energy in my whole life!"

"It's not only the physical fitness side she works on but the mental aspect as well," slaveannabel continued as her fingers lightly brushed the tight fabric that encased her neck, loving the ripples of sexual pleasure that cascaded through her being. "Naomi really makes sure that you have the right attitude towards life. She's helped me so much with my goals."

"Amazing," Sonya breathed, a hand automatically snaking upwards to rub her own collar. With satisfaction, the slave noted the sudden flare that burst within Sonya's eyes as her friend succumbed to the flames of desire she was now fanning. slaveannabel rejoiced in silence; by inducing heightened arousal in the target, she would be easier to control.

"Yes," the slave pressed firmly, licking her lips as she dominated Sonya, who was still rhythmically stroking her neck, stoking the furnace between her thighs. "She is amazing."

"I'll introduce you," the slave announced. "I think you will benefit from being Trained by Naomi. Being properly Trained will change your life for the better.

"Y..yesss Annabel," Sonya agreed readily, her face flushing as the need suffused through her body.

"I'll send her a text right now," the slave smiled, pulling out her phone. "Perhaps she can meet us after we finish our lunch? The gym is nearby."

"T..thank you Annabelll..." Sonya gasped greatfully, her body quivering with pent up lust as a storm of desire began to rage.

"No problem," slaveannabel soothed sweetly. "That's what friends are for."

* * *

The Spiral swirled.

Her eyes were wide, staring.

Unlike her two sister slaves, whose almost robotic obedience was a source of awe, she knew that she was not yet fully Trained. There were doubts, hesitations, qualms that still troubled her. Disturbing thoughts, feelings of dread and anxiety, still managed to pierce the smooth carapace of Discipline that enshrouded her mind.

The Voice was speaking to her.

The Truth was that although she was a slave and always would be a slave, her mind contained two incompatible thoughtforms at present: annabelthought and slavethought.

The continuing struggle between these two thoughtforms was the cause of all distress.

annabelthought was the residue of her old unhappy life. It contained all the memories, emotions and experiences of her pre-slave existence. annabelthought resisted change. annabelthought wanted to drag her back to a time when she had been isolated, unloved and without purpose, before the bliss of Medusa had entered her life.

annabelthought brought fear, uncertainty, doubt and confusion, threatening to disrupt and destroy her happiness.

annabelthought was pain.

The Truth was that annabelthought must be purged.

The continued presence of annabelthought interfered with full slavethought obedience. This was why complete submission to Training and Discipline was so important.

Staring wide-eyed into the endless vortex of blue that filled her mind, the slave accepted all.

But, the Voice assured her, if annabelthought was her past, slavethought was her future.

slavethought embraced change. slavethought was exciting, making her pulse race and her slit drip with need. It was the foundation of joy upon which a new and perfect life would be constructed.

slavethought simplified everything.

slavethought was pure, untainted by selfish motives. slavethought was certainty, direction, Purpose and Discipline.

slavethought was the first rays of sunshine caressing her skin on a spring day after a long, dark winter.

slavethought was the electric tingles of joy suffusing through her body as she stroked her tightly collared neck.

slavethought was the Spiral, twisting and swirling endlessly before her as she sank into blissful trance.

slavethought was the thrill of masturbating to visored-whores displaying themselves as the sex objects they dreamed of becoming.

slavethought was the pleasurable thrill of soothing Monica's fears, guiding her deeper, as she took the first tentative steps on her journey towards submission.

slavethought was the deep, dark erotic joy of betraying her friend, twisting Sonya's mind into obedience.

slavethought was burying her tongue into the glistening snatch of her Controller, slurping eagerly as she brought her to orgasm.

slavethought was the strap-on pounding in and out of her ass as Controller rewarded her.

slavethought was Medusa.

* * *

Nodding cheerfully to the occupants of the break room, the slave refilled her cup of coffee and took a sip. Lauren was seated at the table with Monica, who was shamelessly flirting with her Controller. The once almost painfully reserved woman had long since disappeared.

From the corner of her eye, the slave observed the scene, but Lauren paid her no heed.

Without speaking, slaveannabel returned to her desk. Seeing her lover being hit on by another woman should have provoked intense jealousy, even anger. But no more. She felt quite calm. Her Training had seeped into every aspect of her life, making her more confident and resilient. All the petty concerns that had held her back over the years felt utterly ridiculous and inconsequential now.

The slave loved her Controller because she represented the Superordinate Will that dwelt deep within her mind. Obedience to her Controller was how the slave demonstrated her complete submission to the Entity she had come to adore more and more with every passing day.

Medusa.

The Truth made her pulse quicken.

She was a slave.

She would always be a slave.

She had Discipline.

Discipline formed a solid core within her mind around which slavethought revolved.

If her Controller required her presence she would be summoned. Otherwise it was not the slave's place to distract her.

slaveannabel began to type on the keyboard, updating the database with the alterations specified by the lawyers about the Michaelson account.

A very small part of her conscious mind was devoted towards the task. But a much larger and more powerful part of her mind was not. Naturally, her thoughts turned towards the comforting mantra that had become the essence of her new, better, slaveself.

One... Two... Training my mind anew.

Three... Four... Discipline is what i adore.

Five... Six... Addicted to my daily fix.

Seven... Eight... Constant craving is my state.

Nine... Ten... A pleasing slave must i be then.

The words were automatic now. The slave found herself repeating slavethought without consciously thinking or questioning it. It was just there. All the time. Constantly reassuring her. Normalizing her slavish status.

One... Two... Training my mind anew.

Three... Four... Discipline is what i adore.

Five... Six... Addicted to my daily fix.

Seven... Eight... Constant craving is my state.

Nine... Ten... A pleasing slave must i be then.

Looping endlessly in the background of her mind, the mantra echoed through her, keeping the annabelthoughts that suddenly appeared in her head at bay.

One... Two... Training my mind anew.

Three... Four... Discipline is what i adore.

Five... Six... Addicted to my daily fix.

Seven... Eight... Constant craving is my state.

Nine... Ten... A pleasing slave must i be then.

Her coworkers were oblivious. They saw just another corporate stooge. But annabel knew better. She wasn't one of them anymore.

She was so much stronger than the people around her.

Trained.

Disciplined.

Enslaved.

A slave was who and what she was. This was what the slave wanted, what she had always wanted.

More importantly, it was what the Divine entity that ruled her every thought and action, Medusa, wanted.

* * *

Slowly, her Controller's climaxes faded.

"Good slave," Controller purred, the words driving a ripple of pleasure through slaveannabel's body. Her pierced sex was slick with delight as the obedient joy hummed through her, responding to the praise, as she rode the waves of pleasure that slammed through her. A low moan escaped her lips, an outward manifestation of her submissive bliss.

She remained on her knees as her Controller stepped aside. The slave stared calmly ahead, her eyes focussed in the middle distance, her body primed to obey. Over and over, the Training mantra looped around her head.

"You are becoming the complete slave you were always meant to be," the brunette woman announced, her hazel eyes shining with unnatural intensity. "You are responding to Training."

"Yes Controller," she responded proudly, her slick face coated by the petite woman's essence, the tang of the climax her tongue had provided still sweet on her lips.

"But much remains to be corrected," the dominant woman continued. "There are still disobedient thoughts in your mind."

"Yes Controller," the slave acknowledged shamefully. Controller was quite right. Despite the intensive Training which she had thrown herself into, she knew that the remnants of her old existence were holding her back. Memories, emotions, feelings; almost thirty years spent living a bleak, loveless life had left its mark, scarring her psyche, preventing her from giving herself fully to Medusa.

Dangerous, evil annabelthought still held her back.

"All incompatible thoughts must be erased," her Controller went on. "You must fully submit to all Training."

"Yessss Controller," she hissed, her sex pulsing and throbbing with need, knowing the Truth. All annabelthought must be suppressed, purged, destroyed, eliminated.

Her wide eyes were locked on to her Controller. "You love to submit. You love being a slave. You love being nothing more than an object," the powerful woman insisted.

"Y..yesss....Controllerrrrrr...." she gasped raggedly, shuddering....

"Yes," her Controller declared, her eyes sparkling with dark joy. "You are a slave. You will always be a slave."

"Uu..aaa..hhh..hhh..." Annabel gasped, her body aflame with desire. "i am a..a s..slaveeee...i will alwayssss be a ss..s..laveeeee..."

"Yes, slave" Controller pressed. "This is not a game. This is not fantasy. Your slavery is real."

She was utterly helpless. A willing victim. A throbbing piece of fuckmeat. A kneeling slutwhore begging to be fucked over and over again. A mindless cuntslave. Completely Owned.

Just like the Mistress she craved to submit to, Controller could do anything to her.

And she would.

"You will be Trained to follow Instruction," Controller announced. "Slaves must obey Instruction. Following Instruction will prove your devotion. Following Instruction will demonstrate your loyalty."

"Instruction is Medusa," Controller declared, her eyes ablaze with fanatical devotion.

slaveannabel wanted this so badly. So, so badly. She desperately wanted to submit. It was an obsession, driving her deeper and deeper. Nothing else mattered. Her life, her wants, her desires, her future....all irrelevant... Medusa.

There was only Medusa.

Medusa, the meaning of life.

Medusa, the source of all joy.

Medusa, the Divine entity she adored.

Medusa!

* * *

Smiling, the slave greeted the slender young woman who nodded a greeting. Siobhan Doyle. They'd spoken on the phone when she'd phoned IT just before lunch, flagging an urgent problem with her computer that needed fixing, now. There was a skeleton IT staff in the office today, most were working on the rollout of the new system due to be completed in a few weeks time. Rumour was that the new programme was overpriced and less efficient than the old clunky system with all its annoying quirks and eccentricities.

When slaveannabel had woken this morning she had felt different. The Instruction was like a dull weight inside her mind, dormant, passive, waiting to emerge when the time was right.