This Is You Throwing In The Towel

Janet slumped in the restraints, her whole body wrung out with exhaustion. Her eyes burned with the desire to simply close and let herself rest for a little while, just long enough to recover some of the strength she lost forcing herself to resist...but the throbbing waves of light kept washing over her face, distracting her. The pulsing waves of sound kept droning away at her in perfect rhythm with the light, murmuring to her subconscious on a level she knew she couldn't resist if she slept. Every time she let her head hang down and her eyes sink closed, she woke up a little weaker. A little more aroused. A little more helpless. Janet couldn't let herself sleep again just yet.

But she was so very very tired. Her muscles ached with the strain of tensing and relaxing, over and over again as the vibrator pressed against her pubic mound buzzed with cruelly-calculated intensity. The stimulation took her to the edge of climax again and again, her whole body tightening up with anticipation...and then nothing. Just a mocking throb in her clit, an aching need that never went away even though it never reached the release she so desperately craved. Janet had managed to preserve her virginity through two boyfriends, a sorority and seven high school dances, but right now she would fuck the first man who came into the room if it meant an end to the constant frustration in her cunt.

But the person who came into the room wasn't a man. She was a slender, tall Caucasian woman with long white hair tied back in a ponytail, and a kind expression in her twinkling blue eyes. She wore a navy-blue pencil skirt and a matching blazer, with a crisp white blouse underneath the ensemble and a matching pair of mary janes to complete the look. She wouldn't have been out of place in the Human Resources department of any major corporation. She definitely looked out of place next to the exhausted, sweat-soaked Asian woman strapped into the X-shaped vertical frame in the center of the room.

"Hello," the woman said softly, her hand reaching out to lightly stroke the damp charcoal hair that clung to Janet's scalp. Janet didn't know whether to pull away or desperately nuzzle the first sensation in ages that wasn't the artificial buzz of a toy on her cunt. "My name is Cassandra. I've come to check on your progress."

Janet stared dully at the other woman for a moment. Her eyes didn't seem to want to focus; hours upon hours of distorted perspective, of lights that came from different angles and distances had played so many tricks on her vision that it seemed easier just to let her stare go glassy and blank. But she finally made herself look Cassandra in the face. "Hhh..." Her voice was hoarse and raspy. She'd done a lot of screaming when they first brought her here. "How long...?"

Cassandra gave a light chuckle and patted Janet on the shoulder. "Oh, that doesn't really matter, does it? Not long enough for you to be missed, at least by anyone who isn't aware of our little...arrangement with the cruise line. Not long enough for you to succumb to the programming, or you wouldn't be asking that question. Beyond that, it's really not important. You have as long as you need to surrender to us, Janet. You can take your time and do it right."

Janet wanted to cry, to scream, to flail at the other woman in the restraints and shriek obscenities at her. But her body was too exhausted to move, her mind too drained to summon up any reserves of emotion. All she could do was whisper out, in leaden tones, "Why are you doing this to me?"

Cassandra's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment. "Because we want to make you into a sex slave," she said, as though explaining a simple concept to a particularly slow pupil. "I would have thought that you would have at least picked that up by now from the subliminals. You know that good girls obey, don't you? You know that good girls love to be deeply aroused and helplessly subservient to their owners, right? Good girls suck, good girls fuck, good girls cum on command and live for pleasure. It's all there in your head even if you're not ready to accept it just yet, isn't it?"

Janet felt the tug of Cassandra's words like an undertow on her thoughts, pulling her deeper into the pleasure she'd been trying so hard to resist. Just thinking about them set of a cascade of mental associations, reminding her that it felt so good to be docile, tame, compliant and horny...Cassandra reached out and twisted her nipples, eliciting a moan that bounced off the walls of the stark white featureless chamber. Janet's eyes rolled back in her head in anticipation of an orgasm that once again refused to materialize.

The fog cleared. Janet forced it away one wispy tendril at a time. She made herself think the question in her head, word by word, willing the sentence into existence before finally opening her mouth to speak. "But why me?" Sluggishly, she groped for another word to help the sentence make more sense, one that would have come to her easily just a few short days ago. At last, she added, "Specifically?"

Cassandra smiled in sudden comprehension. "Oh! Well, you fit a certain profile. Young, attractive..." She ran her fingers over Janet's breasts again, trailing through Janet's ample cleavage with a possessive familiarity. "Bright and adaptable-the process actually works much easier with intelligent women who can absorb complex programming. You're relatively isolated from social networks-oh, you've got your schooling and your parents, but lots of young women drop out of school and lose touch with their family after adulthood. And socio-economically speaking, you're quite dispensable. It's nothing personal, dear, but...you're not really missing much in life by becoming a sex slave, are you?"

Janet shook her head so hard the room spun. "No," she moaned, clenching her eyes shut, pushing away Cassandra's matter-of-fact voice by sheer act of will. "No no no no NO!" It hurt to shout, but Janet didn't care. In that instant, nothing was more important to her than denying that smug, calm insistence in Cassandra's words. She felt a sick hatred bubble up inside her, and she clung to it. Better that than simply giving up on her dreams, her hopes, everything worth living her life for in favor of existence as an empty-headed fuckdoll.

But she couldn't shout forever. Eventually, the energy that anger gave her exhausted itself, and she opened her eyes to see Cassandra simply waiting her out with the patience of a statue. The other woman waited until the silence became almost unbearable, until the room almost rang out with it, and asked, "Why not?"

It was the last thing Janet expected to hear. She thought she was going to get a lecture, more of that hypnotic language about how easy it would be to give in and obey or something. She didn't think that Cassandra would actually listen to her. She almost didn't know what to say. "Um, I...because..." It was surprisingly difficult to come up with something. Her mind felt clogged with the subliminal brainwashing; it filled up her head like thick, warm honey, slowing down her thoughts and subsuming her entire being with its cloying weight. She had to push through it to remember her life before this room.

"I...I don't want to just be a, a fuckdoll," she said slowly, pushing the words past the programming. "I'm going to do things with my life, real things. Things that matter to me, things that fulfill me deep down." The words got easier as she thought about them, sustaining her and reviving a resistance that she didn't even notice had faded. "I'm going to teach, I'm going to fall in love, I'm going to get married some day and be a mother. I'm going to make a difference in people's lives. You can't give me that. Not now and not ever."

Cassandra paused for a moment. The scariest part, Janet thought, was that she really seemed to have listened to every word. She didn't dismiss it as just one more obstacle to overcome in Janet's brainwashing; Janet could see in her eyes that she was genuinely thinking about what Janet was saying. Somehow that seemed so much worse than dealing with an implacable monster. Finally, she spoke. "Alright. Let's see if you're right."

With that, Cassandra snapped her fingers, and twin hatches in the ceiling opened up. Two monitors slid smoothly down, mounted on smooth white posts that matched the sterile room. "Wh-what?" Janet said, staring at the blank screens in bewildered confusion. "What's going on, what's happening?"

"It's very simple," Cassandra said, as the screens flickered into life. "This little softening up process you've been going through hasn't just been to get your pretty head all nice and fuzzy." She ran her fingers up and down Janet's hip with a casual intimacy that made Janet shiver. "Although that's certainly part of the reason, and if you'd just melted into bliss we certainly wouldn't have been upset."

Cassandra pointed to the screen on the left. "No, we've been studying you. Going through your background, your history, footage from various places you've been-you'd be amazed at how much of a person's life is captured on video these days. We've even made scans of your physical brain while you slept. All so that we can present you with the choice. The last choice you'll ever need to make, as it happens. This screen on the left will show you a simulation of that wonderful, fulfilling life you would have if you managed to defy us..."

She pointed to the other screen. "And this one, here, will show you what awaits you if you were to simply throw in the towel and accept your conditioning. This is the life we promise you, Janet. A life free from stress, free from worry, filled with nothing but the purest pleasure and endless, orgasmic bliss."

Her attention drawn, Janet watched. The woman on the screen was clearly some sort of computer animation, but...but it was Janet. She recognized herself. She recognized the way her breasts swayed and bounced, the way her hair swung from her shoulders. She'd never seen that vacant look of mindless pleasure in her own eyes, but she knew that was her face. She'd never been fucked from behind like that, but she accepted instantly that she would look just like that.

"This Janet never needs to care about her GPA," Cassandra said, her voice remorselessly calm. "She never needs to take extra shifts to make rent. She never needs to ask her parents for money. She only has to think about the next cock, the next cunt, the next lover. And they all make her happy, Janet. She's never not happy. You said that we can't give you fulfillment, but have you ever felt as much at peace as she looks like she feels with a dick in her ass?"

Janet hated the empty space in her head where conviction was supposed to be. She shook her head, not trusting her voice to betray her sudden hesitance. It was fake, of course it was all fake, but...but it wasn't. Janet could feel it in the back of her head, the result of hours and days of slow, inexorable brainwashing. Every time she thought about giving in and giving up and letting herself sink into the programming, the pleasure in her mind felt like the smile on that face looked. It could feel that good. It would feel that good, all the time.

"It's not real," she mumbled, forcing herself to watch the other screen instead. "It's just something you put in my head, it's not real." She wasn't sure whether she meant the artificial happiness the Janet on the screen had, or the sense of uncertainty that gnawed away at her right this second. Her head felt too foggy to figure out the difference.

"Then let's look at what's real, shall we?" Cassandra smiled blandly, an expression that concealed the cruelty of her actions. "This is the real Janet, once Mommy and Daddy's birthday gift is over and done with and you return from your pleasure cruise to the real world." Again, Janet could see that it wasn't as real as Cassandra suggested, but the fuzziness in her mind easily bridged the gap from realistic CGI to truth. "This is you again, taking double shifts at the restaurant while trying to study for a teaching certificate. That woman getting 'accidentally' touched by the Friday night regular who tips five percent? That's you. So fulfilled. Making a difference to one person after another."

"But I, I..." Janet spotted the contradiction, but it felt too complicated to articulate through her thick, sluggish thoughts. The Janet on the right was being groped and grabbed and more (oh god, so much more, every time Janet saw herself in the monitor her cunt ached in sympathy, she couldn't stop thinking about taking cock after cock after cock until her body wrung itself out with orgasms, she needed to cum so bad right now, oh FUCK it was so fucking frustrating) but it was the Janet on the left who was unhappy? That couldn't be right. The violation was the same, even worse...

But the Janet on the right wanted to be violated. The Janet on the right loved everything that was happening to her, and the Janet on the left hated it but had to put up with it anyway. Both Janets were being used as a sexual commodity, but only one enjoyed it. Only one was given the gift of enjoying it. Janet felt a surge of gratitude to the people who were brainwashing her, but she pushed it down. It was part of the programming. It had to be.

Cassandra reached out and gave her another familiar caress, her hands cupping Janet's heavy tits. "Yes, Janet?" she asked, her thumbs rubbing Janet's nipples. "There was something you wanted to explain to me? Thinking is important to you, after all. You wouldn't want to stop just because it meant you got to cum for me, would you?"

Janet's head lolled on her shoulders as the pleasure intensified. She somehow knew without being told that if she only surrendered completely, she would be allowed to cum. If she just looked Cassandra in the eyes and admitted, once and for all, that her will was broken and she was a good, obedient fuckdoll, she would feel that climax like every orgasm she'd ever had all firing off in her head at once. She could feel it approaching, an event horizon of pure pleasure in her mind...

"I'll quit," she heard herself say. She honestly had no idea what it meant at first.

Cassandra removed her hands. She looked at Janet with an infinitely patient stare. "Go on," she said at last.

"I...I'll quit the restaurant job," Janet muttered, all her strength taken up with simply making the thought happen. "I'll get scholarships, financial aid, whatever it takes. I'll get to that teaching job and I'll make a difference in the lives of children and, and..." The monologue in her head sputtered out at last, but Janet took refuge in the image the words created. She would be a teacher. A good one.

"How fulfilling," Cassandra said, snapping her fingers again. Another image popped onto the left-hand screen, of an older Janet handing out number two pencils and endless sheets of computerized test forms. The screen flickered and the same scene repeated itself, with Janet a year older, a new batch of children but the same forms, the same tests. Janet watched the children blend into a blur of similarity, watched her hair turn gray and the passion slowly fade from her eyes into dull, placid acceptance. But no pleasure. "How very fulfilling."

"That's a lie!" Janet snapped, but this time the surge of anger lasted only moments before fading. She looked away, unable to face the slow, endless march into decrepitude and passivity. It was faked, of course it was faked, they weren't going to show her anything that might give her hope, but...oh god, the other Janet looked so happy. Years older, her body well-maintained but definitely the body of a woman in her forties, but still being fucked with the same blissful abandon. Still loving every moment of it.

Cassandra reached up to stroke her cheek. "There's always going to be a place for you, my dear," she said, gently holding Janet's head to face the other screen. "We have so many clients, with so many tastes. They'll never grow bored of you, never discard you to face an uncertain and hostile world. When you finally reach the later years of your life, you'll have a place in the organization like I do, helping the younger ones accept their new reality. I'm teaching you how to obey, Janet...and I can assure you, it's far more fulfilling than any education you've ever imagined."

Cassandra's fingers slipped down, sliding neatly in between the vibrator and Janet's slick, dripping cunt. She rubbed at Janet's labia, teasing them with the sure and certain patience of a hunter closing in on her prey. "You're not being captured, Janet," she said, her words somehow seeming more true than the cuffs binding Janet in place. "You're being freed. Freed from the world and all its problems, freed from fear and uncertainty. Slavery is freedom, Janet, and you're being an offered an opportunity to escape into that freedom. Look at the woman on the screen. Imagine how good that will feel."

Janet stared helplessly. She realized that the droning, subliminal noise was playing in her ears again, realized that the screen was flashing mind-numbing patterns overlaid on her endlessly-fucked body...but it didn't matter. It wasn't the signal that was breaking her will, it was the truth. She was being fucked into obedience watching herself be fucked into obedience, and it felt every bit as good as Cassandra promised. "It...I...they don't love me," desperately flinging out the objection like a drowning swimmer reaching for a life preserver.

"And would it make the sex better if they did?" Cassandra whispered in her ear. Out of the corner of her eye, Janet saw the other screen flicker again, showing her some fumble-fingered virginal lover, someone who waited and who was happy she waited, someone humping her inexpertly and leaving her unsatisfied. "No more shame, Janet. No more ceaseless carping about 'purity' and 'decency' from men who would happily fuck you in the dark. There's only pleasure here, a pleasure you don't have to deny yourself anymore."

Cassandra's fingers swirled on Janet's clit, pumping into her wet channel, stretching her with the care and precision of an experienced lover. Janet's eyes slid away from the other screen, locking onto the image of her mindless, obedient self. It filled her world, filled her mind. She could feel the event horizon approaching again, and this time there was nothing to hold her back from it. Her cunt clenched around Cassandra's questing touch, her breath came in shuddering gasps. "Say it," Cassandra whispered, her breath tickling Janet's neck. "Say it and be ours."

"I..." Janet's stare went blank, her mind's eye filling with the pure and perfect image of the pleasure she felt. "I dedicate myself to obedience..." The words flowed to her lips directly from the programming, a trigger that only worked when she heard herself say it. And the second she said it, she felt the climax overtake her with wave after wave of powerful, thunderous pleasure. This was what she was waiting for all this time, not just since the signal began to brainwash her but every moment of her waking life up to now. Every time she masturbated, every touch against her skin, every spark of joy that she had ever felt had simply been a promise. Slavery was the fulfillment. The orgasm shredded her resistance in an instant, and she let it fall to tatters.

"Good girl," Cassandra whispered in her ear, as she came and came and came. "Good girl, that's my good girl, that's my obedient girl, keep cumming, don't stop, good slave. Good girl. Cum for me. Cum for me. Just for me, pretty girl, by my will and my command. Good. Girl." The words kept going, drawing out the orgasm for what felt like forever, stroking her mind like Cassandra's fingers stroked her clit. Janet heard her moans echoing off the chamber's walls, but her mind was too lost in bliss to think about what she was saying. She had finally surrendered, and she didn't need to think about anything else ever again.