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.
* * *
Smiling, the slave greeted Monica warmly, silently noting her lightly flushed cheeks and newly applied lipstick. It was just after lunch and their co-workers were slowly filtering back to their cubicles. slaveannabel had spent that time at her desk idly eating her specially packed lunch, mantra pulsing through her mind endlessly reinforcing what she was and always would be.
The slave no longer met Controller in the bathroom.
The monica-material had taken over that particular role.
"Hello Monica," slaveannabel greeted her warmly, noting the girl's fresh perfume masking the faint scent of sex that did not escape her highly attuned nose.
"Umm, hi Annabel," Monica began awkwardly, wringing her hands.
Arching an eyebrow slightly at the girl's discomfort, the slave silently urged her to continue.
"Lauren said that you might be moving out..." Monica asked hesitantly.
slaveannabel gave her a reassuring smile. "Yup. I got a new place that's much closer to work. Why? Are you interested?"
Her Controller had simply informed the slave that she was to report to the living quarters above the gym tomorrow. There were no explanations. She had no questions.
The girl visibly relaxed, her awkwardness vanishing. "Yeah," she replied eagerly. "Lauren said...." the material began, trailing off, her flushed cheeks reddening as she spoke aloud the name of the woman she had come to love.
"Sure! That sounds like a great idea," slaveannabel enthused, steadfastly ignoring the material's obvious arousal. "You know Lauren already. Naomi and Jess, the other two in the house, are great. You'd fit in perfectly. This saves everybody a lot of trouble!"
The monica-material beamed with excitement.
"Actually I'm relieved," the slave continued confidentially, "I didn't want my sudden departure to cause hassle about the rent. You know how awkward these situations can get."
The female material was nodding in agreement but slaveannabel knew she wasn't listening. The monica-material's mind had moved on, already seduced by the promise of a new and brilliant future spent with the wonderful woman she thought she loved.
"You'll make the perfect replacement."
* * *
"Hello siobhan," her voice low and husky, causing the Irishwoman to squirm in her chair in surprise.
And more.
"Annabel..." the IT technician breathed looking up at the slave looming over her, siobhan's pupils impossibly wide beneath the new glasses that were steadily burning her identity away.
It was late. Everybody in the IT section had left for the evening apart from the young woman who had dutifully been sitting at her desk pecking at her keyboard, waiting.
"You look perfect," slaveannabel comlimented, her sex sizzling as she drank in the sight of the pale, slender woman dressed in a new mauve top, the high turtleneck enshrouding her long neck in its vice-like grip.
"Ahhh..." siobhan gasped, her voice catching as she shook uncontrollably. "T...thank you Annabel."
The slave's own moist snatch throbbed with desire as she controlled the material. It had only been a few days but the siobhan-material had gone deep, far deeper than monica or even she had been at this stage of her Enlightenment.
"Have you broken up with your boyfriend?" the slave questioned.
"Yessss..." siobhan shuddered, her eyes rolling back in her head as her body recalled the orgasmic bliss that had ravaged her once she had completed the task of engineering an acrimonious split with the male. Bile had spewed forth from her mouth. She'd mercilessly wielded every weapon in her verbal arsenal to hurt him. He wouldn't return.
"Good," the slave praised the material. "You no longer need him. He held you back. You never really loved him."
"Isn't that correct?"
"Ohhh..." the material groaned in agreement, "y... yesssssss....."
"You will be much happier in your new home," the slave declared. "You will love it."
Preparations had already been made to house the siobhan-material in the facility where, free from outside influences, she would be turned into the devoted servant of Medusa that she, without realising it, had always been.
The reasons why this piece of material's enslavement was being accelerated did not trouble her. Such questions belonged to annabelthought. But now, mind following Instruction, slavethought controlled her completely. Every synapse in her brain felt as if it was vibrating with pure bliss, singing a hymn of rapture to her Owner.
The smouldering eyes in the pretty freckled face met hers as slaveannabel's piercing stare trapped her prey like an exotic butterfly being pinned to a specimen board by a collector.
Reaching out, slaveannabel ran her hand slowly, deliberately, sensuously, along the fleshmaterial's collar, caressing it firmly but lovingly.
The siobhan-material's whole body rocked in the chair, jerking and twitching as the pleasure consumed her, gasping and moaning in animal lust, begging for more, surrendering to her new desires, already helplessly addicted to the ecstasy overwhelming her body and mind.
Eyes never wavering from the bucking woman, slaveannabel raised her other hand to her own tightly collared neck as she continued to stroke the siobhan-material, skillfully sending the female deeper into a frenzy of sexlust, the material writhing in agonised pleasure as she was brought to the very brink of oblivion. Cunt pulsing with Disciplined joy, slaveannabel relished the delectable slavethought that told her she was nothing more than the living instrument of Medusa's Will as she savoured the bottomless depths of submission now burned forever into this piece of powerless womanflesh.
"It is time to go," the slave finally announced, releasing her captive, the rapturous sensations slowly ebbing from the material's body but leaving her desperate for more. "We will go to the gym for Training."
"Yessss Annabelll..." the siobhan-puppet rasped, rising to her feet unsteadily.
* * *
The light pulsed before her, dazzling her, rousing her conscious mind into what now passed for wakefulness. She was in her Obedience Tube, staring wide-eyed into the curved glass just inches away.
The Spiral she no longer remembered gazing into for so many hours had vanished.
It's place had been taken by something else, something that glowed with power and holiness. An emblem. The focus of her life. The reason for her existence.
Her breathing increased.
Medusa!
The Sacred Symbol of her devotion started to pulse and flare before her eyes, causing her Trained, Disciplined body to respond, the orgasm taking her, ravaging her mind and body as the slave worshipped the Owner of her soul.
Slavethought filled her mind with Purpose and devotion, reassuring her that all was as it should be. She realised that she was being changed. Whatever happened in the Tube was far stronger than the effect of the headset had ever been. Every time she woke, some small part of her was different. But thanks to blessings of slavethought, her critical thinking faculties, that would have previously led her into doubt and fear, had grown ever dimmer.
Yet sometimes, out of nowhere, unsettling feelings appeared, gnawing at her obedience, disturbing her happiness. Negativity threatened her happiness. It had to be suppressed, eradicated, purged, until only the purity of obedience, of submission, of worship remained. Then, and only then, would she be a worthy servant for her Deity.
Slowly, the tube moved, sliding out from the darkness where she had been stored for the night. Beyond the confines of the clear glass she made out the contours of the large room the slave now called home. The facility was large, obviously designed for a considerable number of residents as evidenced by the numbers of empty Obedience Tubes lying dormant alongside her. But slaveannabel had not yet encountered any other occupant in the short time she had been quartered here.
Cool air rushed in as the glass covering slid away, quickly dissipating the moist humidity that had bathed her body for hours. Levering herself up from the comfortable moulded sleep-platform that she had lain on for so long, the slave stood.
Joy suffused through her. Another day! Another chance to obey!
Proceeding to the washing area to clean and prepare herself for the workday ahead, her pussy throbbed expectantly, knowing that with every step she took, every action she performed, every word she uttered, every slavethought that appeared in her mind, she was enacting the Divine Will of Medusa.
* * *
The four women looked up as she approached them in the break room. Smiling disarmingly, the slave eased herself into the empty chair, assessing them discreetly. Their lightly flushed faces and the faint hint of arousal that wafted in her direction told slaveannabel they were all now primed to obey.
They were a disparate group from a number of different sections in work who had never socialised together before.
But now they were gathered, waiting, simmering with anticipation.
Ripe for the plucking.
slaveannabel had thoroughly examined their profiles, read their forum messages, thrilled over the Visor-clad selfies they had each eagerly shared.
She knew what they felt, what they thought, what they needed. And she would exploit that knowledge. Mercilessly.
They were Owned.
Of course, none of them realised that.
Yet.
"So," she stated simply, taking charge of the expectant group, "wouldn't it be much better to use our breaks more productively. To do something for ourselves that will make us feel better?"
There were nods all round, eager eyes shone brightly as they immediately agreed to her suggestion.
"Getting stuck in a rut is unhealthy. We need to take action."
"Yesss..." murmured Philippa, her eyes wide with need. slaveannabel was pleased. Obviously the tall blonde was the weakest of the group. She would use her as a focus to claim the others.
"Very good Philippa," she cooed, noting how the words caused her prey to wiggle in her seat, doubtless fighting back the urge to plunge her hand into her slick cleft and finger-fuck herself.
"All happiness comes from within," the slave went on, her eyes boring intently into the helpless material. "We are each responsible for our own happiness. Isn't that true?"
"Yessss... Annabelll..." Philippa agreed readily, the others nodding in unison.
"Happiness comes from Training our minds and bodies to purge all the negativity that holds us back," slaveannabel insisted, clenching her thighs, thrilling to the sight of the material hanging on her words, knowing that she was nothing but a mouthpiece being used to brand the Truth into their receptive minds.
"Yesssss..." the four aroused voices quavered in complete agreement.
