Telos

Laura woke up to the sound of knocking at her door. She rubbed her face and glanced at the clock. It was missing. In fact her entire office was missing. Everything around her was white, like a sketch of a room that had not been filled in. Her glasses were sitting on a white nightstand by the white bed. She put them on as she stood up and found the room an absolute blur as if the prescription were wrong.

The knocking came again.

"Um . . ." She looked around as she put the glasses back on the nightstand. "Come in?"

The lock clicked on the other side of the door and a moment later a police officer stepped through the door.

Or perhaps not.

The young woman was dressed in the blue and black uniform but the fit was off, her chest strained against the material so hard it threatened to burst open. Cops on duty weren't usually allowed to wear pink lipstick either and they didn't tend to keep their lips parted so carefully. As she closed the door behind her Laura thought she seemed more like a porn director's imagined version of a policewoman than the real thing. When she turned back, however, her eyes held the same lucid intelligence as any of the state inspectors Laura had ever met.

"Master apologizes for the delay," said the young woman. "He will be here as soon as he is done with his meetings. They came up very suddenly."

Laura was sure she knew the woman but it was hard to place her. "Detective Haas?" Laura reached up to adjust her glasses before remembered they were gone. "You look different. Very different."

The woman started to frown then her face brightened. "I'm glad you remember me, call me Amy."

Laura took a seat on the bed. She'd met the detective a year before. "The last time I saw you I think you said you were looking for a missing reporter who'd spoken to me. She was talking about stuff in the water supply and conspiracies and . . ."

Amy nodded. "I . . . um . . . they caught me. Master made me tell him about you. He was very impressed."

Laura looked warily around the room. The detective was between her and the only exit. The white room was made of nothing but soft materials. There were no weapons. She kept talking. "So they kidnapped me."

"Not exactly, no. Please, you don't need to be frightened." Amy folded her hands demurely. "Other people in your position took bribes when they were offered and looked the other way when the others put Bliss in the water supply." She shook her head. "You're a lot like master, ma'am, you want the people you're responsible for to be happy and safe."

"And so you kidnapped me."

"No, ma'am, please let . . ."

Laura rose from the bed. "What did you do to me?"

"Master could explain better," said Amy shrinking back.

"Tell me!" An aggressive rage boiled up inside of Laura like she had never experienced before. The room shook. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she advanced on the detective. "Why am I here?"

"I . . ."

"Tell me!"

Amy's mouth moved wordlessly and her eyes fluttered wildly. A moment later she collapsed on the floor.

All the anger flooded out of Laura. "Amy?" She rushed to the young woman's side.

The detective stirred. "Sorry ma'am . . . I'm bit . . ." She took a ragged breath. "I didn't know what to. . . you said to . . . I'm sorry . . . please . . . I'm sorry . . ." The color had gone out of her skin. Her arms trembled when they tried to hold her weight but she kept straining to raise herself. "Please . . . I'm . . . please . . ."

"Lie back," Laura said pushing her into place. "Calm down."

Amy responded instantly.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know, ma'am." She closed her eyes. "I was so scared that . . ." Her breathing began to quicken again.

"Quiet. Relax." Laura checked Amy's pulse and temperature. She checked that the woman's eyes could move and focus properly. Her breathing was fine as well so long as she wasn't speaking. There was nothing physically wrong with her, not a stroke or an aneurysm. It was more like massive stress. "Stay where you are." She heard Amy murmur in assent as she went to grab a pillow for her head. "I need you to stay still. Does that door open?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"My name is Laura. You can call me Laura."

Amy's brow furrowed again. "I'm not . . ."

"Okay, never mind that for now. Do whatever makes you comfortable."

"Thank you," said Amy. A tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. Color slowly returned to the detective's cheeks over the next few minutes. "You didn't have to stay." Her lips parted and she looked up at Laura with sleepy eyes. There was a momentary struggle behind the detective's eyes before she began rubbed herself through the fabric of her pants. "If there's anything you want master said . . ."

Laura started to shake her head in polite refusal but something stopped her. Something had to have been done to her to make her so compliant and so hypersexual. She had no intention of taking advantage of the vulnerable woman lying beneath her.

Yet Laura couldn't help wanting to touch the vulnerable girl.

When she placed a protective hand on Amy's cheek it was as though her hand passed through the skin and flesh and bone to something underneath. She pulled away. She repeated the movement and dragged her hand up along Amy's face. The material was like a tangle of aetherial threads. Beneath the girl's brow it was a complex mass of knots and loops. She traced along one of them and Amy moaned. Laura stopped and tried a different thread. It made Amy fingers tense. Each thread was a different sensation or emotion. The convolutions became images and the knots held memories.

The whole of her mind was tangled up in the skein of threads.

"It is unique isn't it, Doctor Silva?"

Laura jerked away in surprise.

A clean shaven man in an expensive suit was standing in the doorway. She'd met him before a few times, he worked for the government or some powerful regulatory organization. Actually, he'd never specified, which seemed strange. He continued talking without waiting for a response. "Working with it safely takes time."

"What is it?"

He raised his eyebrows.

Laura stood up as a few strange flickers of awareness appeared in her mind. "You're the one who did this to her. You used . . ." She looked at her hands then back at him. "You did what I was doing."

"No, that only helped the process along. Real change came from her."

"So you broke down her will in order to . . ." She moved herself to separate the man from Amy. "I'm not sure I appreciate the distinction."

The man nodded. "That is exactly why you're here." He shifted his attention to the detective. His gaze over swept her body in concern. His eyes softened. "Come over here, Amy, you're okay."

She rose elegantly from the floor. Laura reached out to stop her but Amy slipped past her to go stand at the man's side. Amy's eyes lingered on Laura for a second then turned to the floor as she rested her head against the man. "I was trying to be good, master."

He stroked her hair. "I know you were. Go find Grace, I think she's reading." If Amy had any response he cut it off with a quick kiss to her lips.

Amy left with a polite nod.

"I guess I'll ask you then," said Laura. "What the hell is going on here?" She surprised herself with the question. Alone in a room with some kind of monster she felt like she was invulnerable. "Why am I here?"

The man smiled. "You are here because we both want to make the world a better place and because you would be dead if you were not here." He produced a small needle from a pocket. "A week ago this was to have been used to kill you during a gala. They thought it would get you out of the way."

"So you saved me in order to get a new slave."

The man shook his head. "Free will is disruptive and . . . unpleasant. The others refuse to protect people from themselves and Amy tells me people will fight against this no matter how much better it is. I wish to understand."

"You want to make better slaves."

"Precisely."

Laura glanced at the door. "Will I end up like her? Like Amy and the other one, Grace, you must have her."

"No, you will be unhappy. Amy and Grace have had their minds are softened in order to make them compliant. All the difficult decisions are gone. Life is easier for them. They'll live longer. They'll be happier. They'll spend no effort causing harm to themselves or anyone else."

"Freedom is supposed to be moral not easy."

He considered the statement. "I find it to be neither."

Laura stared at the man. "I still don't understand why I'm here."

The man nodded. "You have shown integrity and a desire to help the world so I felt you were a good choice for this." He put the needle away. "I've given you abilities similar to my own. Knowledge. Empathy. Influence. Now that you are in my position I want to know what

you

will do for the world."

-)(-

Amy leaned her elbows on the kitchen table and watched Grace's bottom wriggle around as she tried to cook breakfast naked. "You're making a terrible mess."

The younger woman turned around, covered in a fine layer of powdered sugar. She licked her fingers clean innocently. "But it will taste so good when it's done!" She looked back at the bowl. "I forget exactly what it was when I started. Master will be happy as long as it's nice."

"And the new woman. She likes your cooking." Both of them were spending time in the white room with the woman and master always made them bring food. Most of the time was spent talking.

Although nothing in the world seemed able to bother Grace, Amy still found the new woman terrifying, just looking at her made Amy feel like she was about to be eaten. Master had offered her a few vague explanations but little more. Whenever she pressed for more he distracted her with a few well place touches that left her begging for his lips on hers.

It was the woman's influence over her that worried Amy the most. Her voice made her jump to obey. Only master did that to her and she trusted him. This new woman might do anything to her.

Grace went back to stirring the pot. "Cookies!"

"What?"

"I was making cookies."

"For breakfast?"

"Yep."

Amy rolled her eyes as Graced started to pour out the sugar laden batter onto a sheet. She retrieved a few fruits from the refrigerator and sliced them up while the girl struggled with the oven. By the time she was done Grace had set the oven to bake. Master was trying to teach Grace to concentrate so distracting her was usually forbidden, however preparing breakfast seemed to be done and Grace didn't need her mind for anything. She caught her sister slave by the wrist and pulled her toward the counter.

It was always a competition. Amy was stronger and her mind was sharper but her libido made her vulnerable to Grace's manipulations. Every time Amy came with a plan. There was nothing more humiliating than being bent to Grace's bubbly will. Happy. Eager. Obedient. All Amy had to do was keep control of herself long enough to made Grace bend and submit. A few minutes. Nothing more.

She kept Grace's wrist in a vice like grip as she kissed her.

"Amy . . ."

"You're done now," she said, planting a kiss on Grace's neck, "so you're all mine." She turned Grace around and bent her over the counter so her breasts pressed against the sugar coated surface. Amy brought her lips to her ear. "I want you. Just once, you're going to be all mine."

Grace squirmed. "Okay . . ." She rubbed her breasts on the counter excitedly. "Mmm . . . I can be all yours."

Amy pulled her away from the counter and pushed her back against the wall. Her fingers found Grace's sex with practiced ease while one arm kept her pinned. She was sure Grace was as horny as she was, maybe more with all the time Grace spent denied of sex, and the distraction would give her an opening. Sugar spread over her when she rubbed herself against the other slave. She brushed her lips against Grace's. She pulled away and licked the sugar off her lips.

It was a distracting mistake. The taste overwhelmed her momentarily and she lost her hold on Grace. In a fraction of a second the younger girl was on the offensive. One hand slid down Amy's belly. "Not this time," said Amy, regaining a bit of sense. She pulled the hand away then did the same with the other. "You're mine."

"Okay . . ." Grace leaned back against the wall.

Amy forced herself closer. She kissed Grace on the lips and her tongue licked a bit of sugar. She went back for another. And another. Her slave sister tasted so good. She found herself sinking down. In the back of her mind she was aware of Grace's knee massaging her sex, driving her desire higher. She could still regain control of things. One more kiss would break Grace's hold over her. She kissed her collarbone. One more.

Amy flicked her tongue over Grace's nipples. "Wait . . . Grace . . ." It tasted so good, though. She went back for more as Grace's leg pressed perfectly against her clit. "Grace . . . stop . . ." She started rocking herself back and forth for the stimulation. "No . . ." Her lips brushed against Grace's sugar coated breasts again.

Her slave sister giggled down at her. "I think I win."

"No, Grace . . ." She felt Grace's fingers slither down her belly and push inside of her. Their lips crushed together once more. Her head went fuzzy. She felt dizzy, like she was hung upside down. Her back arched. Her lips opened in ecstasy.

"I like it when I win!" said Grace. She giggled again like the bubbly idiot she was and massaged Amy's breasts.

Amy went limp at the touch. She was the perfect little sex doll her master had made her. Even Grace had too much self control for her to overcome. It was almost comforting to be controlled so easily. The struggle was over. She could be happy, eager, and obedient without the slightest worry. The rest of her thoughts went away quickly as Grace's eager fingers explored her body. A familiar pink haze of pleasure smothered her mind. Obedience made her happy and bubbly, just like Grace was.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

She moved toward Grace to kiss her back.

"Girls!"

Grace released her instantly and Amy tumbled to the floor. Amy collected herself as best she could. When she looked up Master was standing in the doorway, glowering at them.

Amy suddenly felt very small and very foolish. "I'm sorry."

He looked sharply at each of them. "Shower, separately, then come back down to the white room. I will bring breakfast in to our guest."

Amy kept the shower ice cold while she washed herself to keep from exciting herself too much. Even with her mind mostly intact the improvements to her body meant that almost everything aroused her in one way or another. The cold droplets marked searing paths as they trickled down her skin in the humid air of the bathroom. When the towel's caress moved over her sex the sensation brought her to her knees. She couldn't stop herself from continuing. A minute later she squeaked out an orgasm on the floor.

She curled herself up on the tiles and wished she were more like Grace. Happy. Eager. Obedient.

Mindless.

She didn't want to remember being someone different. The embers of resistance never died away no matter how hard she worked at it. She didn't want to be free but her mind betrayed her. Only the time she spent with master made her feel safe. Resolved once more she dried herself and headed back down stars.

Shook a bit as she returned to the white room. Even knowing that she wasn't being sent into the room as a punishment it worried her. White door. White walls. White carpeting. Blank and empty and white forever. A room without time. She stayed by the door when she entered, watching master and the woman.

"I only want you to try something very small," master was saying.

The woman shook her head. "She almost had a heart attack last time."

"Amy," master said, "come here."

She stepped to his side and he pulled her against his chest. "That's all. Very simple." Master's patience was infinite and Amy was unwilling to speak. The three of the waited in silence for more than a minute.

"Fine, okay," the woman said at length. She transfixed Amy with a look. "Come over here."

Amy held her feet in place as long as she could but the command dragged her across the room. She knelt in front of the woman, it seemed appropriate.

"It is important she not be frightened while you work."

"Good, then I'll do nothing and she'll be fine."

Master's voice darkened in a way Amy had only heard once before, when she tried to insult Grace. "I cannot let you leave if you have no idea what you are doing. You will learn."

Amy felt a hand on the back of her head and her heart began to race.

"It's time for you to go to sleep, Amy," said the woman.

She felt a pressure in her mind and drew in a sharp breath. The pressure retreated then returned again more lightly. The woman was still talking. Amy realized her eyes were closed. She was beginning to feel light headed. The world warmed around her and every breath became more difficult. She seemed to be paralyzed. Her eyes fluttered open a few times revealing tableaus of master and the woman standing above her. They stood out against the empty white room around them as if they were the only real things in the world. Her surroundings faded in and out, sometimes vague and sometimes painfully vivid. She was never quite sure if she was asleep or not. Eventually she let herself drift away entirely.

Amy awoke in the white room, alone with the woman and ravenously hungry. She crawled toward the wall to get away from her.

"Eat," said the woman, offering her some slices of fruit. "It's been more than a day. Eat."

Amy stared at the food for a few seconds before accepting it. The first bite spread sweet juice over her tongue and she convulsed. Dew dripped from her sex. Master wanted her to enjoy eating. She took a much smaller bite. "Are you like master?" she asked. It was the only thing she knew about the woman.

"No, I'm . . . I'm not sure how to answer that. I barely know anything about him." She leaned against the bed. "I'm a doctor of biochemistry and public health. He keeps saying he wants to make the world a better place. Do you believe him?"

"Master never lies and . . ." Amy smiled. "He really has made my life better."

-)(-

"Let me see if I have this straight," the new woman was saying as Grace opened the door into the white room with a tray of bagels. Master was seated at the foot of the bed and the woman was at the head, facing Grace as she entered the room. The woman paused to smile at Grace before continuing. "You and your . . . colleagues are having an argument over whether you'd rather murder people or brainwash them."

"That is not quite the way I would have put it."

"Have you considered that none of you are quite on the side of angels?"

Grace enjoyed the sound of her master's chuckle. "You still find my methods as unacceptable as murder."

"Of course I do!" shouted the woman.

Master turned to look at Grace. "Then I will demonstrate how they are better," he said motioning to her. "Put the bagels down and come here girl."

She fairly skipped to the bed and he pulled her onto his lap. There was a placid sort of sadness in his eyes when she looked up at him that faded as he smiled at her. "I do not understand you, Doctor Silva. This is what I do. I organize. I lead. I control. It is how to make the world better." He looked intently at the doctor. "I was a general, once, for perhaps a day because I believed it was right. To do otherwise seemed an impossible a violation of . . ."

"Dharma?" suggested the woman.

Master patted Grace on the head and she pressed herself against him as he spoke. "Yes, I suppose that works as well. I have always called it telos. The seed must grow. The knife must cut. The slave must serve and the lord must rule. I find divergence from my purpose difficult. It has taken a long time to make this transition."