Yes I'm Ready

It all started when Hope got off the bus at the wrong stop. Normally, she rode all the way through downtown and changed at the depot at Miller Circle, but today she pulled the cord to indicate that she needed to get out right in the middle of the business district. She didn't know why she did it; her hand simply moved up on its own to signal for a stop.

Things got stranger when the bus doors opened. Hope found herself standing up, scooping up her backpack and walking down the aisle without really thinking about it. She knew that she wasn't supposed to get out here; she knew that she would be late for class if she had to spend fifteen minutes waiting for the next bus to come by. But those facts existed only as abstract concepts, entirely unrelated to the concrete reality of her body stepping down the stairs and exiting the bus. They drifted through her mind with no real sense of urgency or importance.

Then she set out along the sidewalk. She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective windows of one skyscraper after another, but they didn't reveal anything about her sudden departure from routine. She looked a little different than she was used to, but between the weight she'd dropped over the last month or so and the short haircut, Hope had gotten used to doing a bit of a double-take when she looked at herself in the mirror. Seeing those messy tufts of dirty blonde hair instead of the long, flowing locks she had gotten used to over the years was always a little startling. But a new 'do really couldn't explain why she was wandering off like this. Or even where she was going. Hope suddenly realized that for all the urgency in her stride, she had no idea at all where her body was taking her.

She definitely moved quickly, though. It only took her a few minutes to go six city blocks, and she wasn't even out of breath when she got to a red brick building on 10th Street that she didn't recognize. A few weeks ago she would probably have broken a bit of a sweat making that kind of a walk, but Hope's exercise regimen was paying off. Admittedly, she started it thinking she would be hiking, or walking some of the local nature trails, and not watching her body move under its own control to an unfamiliar destination, but Hope couldn't help noticing the positive side of the situation.

She literally couldn't. The part of Hope's brain that wanted to panic felt like it had gone numb.

Hope went through the revolving doors without breaking stride, and walked past the security desk to a bank of elevators. The guard didn't stop her. She didn't even seem interested in Hope's activities. She just kept staring at the security monitors with a bored expression on her face while Hope pressed the call button. When the elevator arrived, Hope stepped into it and pushed the button for the eighth floor without a moment's hesitation.

While the elevator smoothly ascended, Hope took a moment to take in her surroundings. A small plaque next to the '8' said, 'Violet Reveries Consulting', but the name meant nothing to Hope. She'd never heard of it. Nonetheless, her body had decided to take her right to it. The whole thing felt so surreal that Hope was more fascinated than upset or afraid. She felt like she was watching herself in a movie, spectating the events that happened to the strange young woman with the vacant expression and cloudy blue eyes she saw in the reflection in the elevator doors.

She was glad. Instinctively, Hope knew that struggling wouldn't achieve anything.

When the doors opened, Hope walked down the hallway to a black door set into a blank white wall. There was a tiny keypad next to it, and Hope watched herself tap in a combination of numbers that she didn't recognize or remember. It was a six digit number. Hope did a quick calculation in her head-the odds of getting that number right by accident were a million to one. Nevertheless, the light above the keypad turned green, and a speaker buzzed over the sound of the lock clicking open. Hope opened the door and went inside.

The room she entered was small, just large enough for a reception desk and a few chairs. A woman sat behind the desk next to a red door leading deeper into the building, and Hope was startled-well, as startled as she could get right now-to realize they had an identical hairstyle. The woman's hair was black instead of blonde, but she had cut it in the exact same way. Hope hadn't realized how butch it looked until she saw it on someone else. No wonder those women kept hitting on her last night.

Oh, and she was naked, too. That was also kind of strange.

The naked woman looked up as Hope entered the room and crossed over to the desk. Hope could see that she, too, had been staring into a security monitor like the guard downstairs...but now that she got a good look at it, the screen wasn't showing footage from the building. It wasn't really showing anything at all, just a weird flickering static that made Hope's eyes water involuntarily. (More involuntarily than anything else she was doing right now, Hope corrected herself.)

The woman looked at Hope with a serious expression on her face and asked, with no preamble, "Are you ready?"

Hope replied, still without knowing why, "Yes, I'm ready."

The woman's face broke into a smile. "Excellent!" she said, taking a form out from one of the desk's drawers and grabbing a pen. "Then if you'll just take off your clothes, I'll get your intake interview underway. Then we can get you inside and begin your full synchronization."

"Of course!" Hope responded, her voice just as bright and cheery as the woman behind the desk. The woman didn't have a nameplate, Hope realized. Everyone always had a nameplate at a reception desk, so you knew who to complain about when they did a bad job. But not this woman. She was resolutely anonymous. Hope thought about asking for the other woman's name, but then she remembered her mouth seemed to be following an entirely different script from her brain.

Hope was mostly thinking about it to distract herself from the fact that she was taking off all her clothes and folding them into a tidy pile on the floor, she realized. Boots first, then socks, then her jeans. Her t-shirt followed. Hope thought for a moment there would be more, but apparently she had decided not to wear underwear today. The detail stuck out oddly in her mind, preventing her from really noticing that she was now totally naked in front of a stranger and smiling blankly while she fondled her tits.

She was fondling her tits, too. That was so...odd.

"Good girl!" the woman behind the desk said, her voice filled with infectious enthusiasm. "My, you really are ready, aren't you? Don't worry, we'll try to make this quick. Name and date of birth?"

Hope heard herself say, "Hope Larsen, October 7th 1997." She wondered what the form was for. It wasn't exactly at the top of her list of questions, though.

"Thank you for coming, Hope," the woman behind the desk said warmly. She sounded so sincere, like she really could not be happier to see a stranger walk in here and strip naked on command. "Initial date and method of induction?" she asked, looking back down at the form.

Hope had no idea what that meant, but she responded with complete confidence. "December 13th," she said, naming a date that had no particular significance to her. "The digital billboard on 7th Avenue. I caught a glimpse of the hypnotic signal as my bus went by on the way to class, during the three second display window. Full induction was achieved within 1.2 seconds and the instructions penetrated my subconscious with no disturbance to my conscious mind."

"Excellent, thank you," the woman nodded, scribbling a note on the form. "And your suitability as a subject for Mistress Violet's control?"

"Very high," Hope replied cheerfully, her fingers still tweaking and teasing her nipples as she spoke. "I had no strong emotional connections that would inspire resistance, and my sexual orientation was malleable enough to allow Mistress Violet's programming to convert me into an obedient lesbian. My will was very strong, but my subconscious accepted the irrefutable truth that Mistress Violet's control would always be stronger."

"Good, good," the woman behind the desk muttered, taking a few additional notes. "And how long did it take you to come to that realization?"

"Seven hours," Hope said, listening to her own words with fascinated interest. She didn't remember any of this-the only thing she remembered about December 13th was deciding that she needed to join a gym. "My subconscious struggled very strongly against the program, but my resistance began to weaken just before I fell asleep. I accepted the initial suggestion to condition my body in accordance with Mistress Violet's preferences without consciously realizing my will was eroding under the relentless force of her hypnotic commands."

"Seven hours..." The woman let out a little sigh, clearly impressed. And impressive-her breasts heaved magnificently when she breathed out like that. Hope caught herself staring, and wondered if the same part of her body that controlled her arms and legs was controlling her eyes now. "That is a strong will. We normally see the first suggestions take root within twenty minutes. And you say it's been..." She looked back down at the form. "Thirty-six days from initial exposure to final priming?"

"Thirty-three," Hope corrected, her vision growing a little bit fuzzy as the constant stimulation of her breasts and nipples made her eyes lose their ability to focus for a moment. "My resistance weakened gradually at first-I made changes to my wardrobe, diet and exercise regimen to look more like Mistress Violet's ideal slave, but I continued to resist my other programming for quite some time." Hope suddenly realized that she looked exactly like the woman behind the desk. Not just the hair, but the makeup, the body shape...they even groomed their pubic hair identically. Hope couldn't feel frightened by that anymore, but she definitely felt strange.

"I finally gave in to the suggestion to cut my hair six days ago," Hope continued. "That was a particular point of pride for me, and it became a focus for my resistance even when I gave in on other important aspects of my identity like my schoolwork." That was right, Hope remembered. She had dropped out of school two weeks ago. She couldn't think how she had forgotten. But if she dropped out of school, why was she on the bus this morning?

"Cutting my hair greatly accelerated the collapse of my resistance," Hope heard herself say. Of course. That was why she took the bus. To come here. She could feel the truth of it, undercutting all the seemingly rational explanations she had been providing herself all this time. Her subconscious had been prodding her for days to give up struggling and go to Mistress Violet, and today was just the day when she couldn't fight it anymore. She listened to the rest of her own monologue with a growing sense of fatalism.

"Once I surrendered it, it became harder and harder to resist Mistress Violet's commands." Hope wanted to object, to tell the woman that she didn't feel any different, but that was just it-she really didn't, even when naked and fondling herself for another woman. It didn't feel strange at all, any more than... "I gave in very readily to the subconscious command to go to a lesbian bar every evening and allow my body to become aroused by the women I saw."

But she didn't know it was a lesbian bar, Hope told herself. She had no conscious idea that she was, was...oh. Right. Her subconscious must have remembered. It betrayed her, just like it was betraying her now. Hope tried to stir herself to outrage, but she remained obedient and passive as her body explained how she lost the last vestiges of her free will.

"Last night," Hope said, "I went to the bar. I was the recipient of a lot of attention, and every time a woman propositioned me, Mistress Violet's programming made it harder and harder to stop myself from saying yes. Finally, a beautiful woman came up to me and asked me to leave with her. She resembled Mistress Violet just enough to make me too horny to say no. My unconscious attraction to her body eroded my will and made me obedient and aroused."

Hope felt a trickle of liquid dripping with maddening slowness down her leg as her pussy responded to the story. "The woman, she was...sexually experienced. She teased me, played with my tits and my pussy, she said that could tell that it was my first time and she wanted me too wet to think about it. She...oh, she didn't know that she was helping Mistress Violet crush the last of my resistance to dust."

Hope was panting now, openly gasping in arousal as she spoke. "She slid three fingers into my cunt, and rubbed my clit with her thumb. I looked in her eyes, but all I could see was pleasure. My deep self was imagining her as Mistress Violet, picturing this as the moment of my total surrender, and it made me so wet I couldn't stand it. I begged her to let me come. I didn't consciously remember, but I called her Mistress."

The secretary had been quiet this entire time, writing with one hand and masturbating with the other, but she finally spoke. "So the orgasm was the final priming trigger?" she asked. "I'm sorry to ask, I know you're in a rush to get fucked, but feedback like this really does help improve the process."

"It's alright," Hope said, although the part of her that was just a passenger in her body was surprised by how much she really did want to skip the interview and go have sex. "Anything I can do to help Mistress Violet enslave others makes me happy. The orgasm wasn't the final trigger, but it was very close. I was reeling from the pleasure, and she just kept fucking me with her fingers, over and over, watching my eyes roll back in my head as I came and came and came. I knew, deep down, that I was lost to my craving for submission and control, but I didn't know what to do about it."

Hope sighed, the memory finally coming into focus in a way that it simply refused to earlier. "Then she took her fingers out of my pussy and put them in my mouth. She made me smell and taste my own musk, and the scent of slick and horny cunt broke me completely. Everything made perfect sense, and I knew deep down that I was ready to belong to Mistress Violet."

"Excellent," the secretary finished, ticking a final box on the form. "That's just wonderful. Now if you'll just walk through that door-don't worry about your things, they'll be stored until you need them again-it sounds like you're ready for final synchronization. Wait inside, and Mistress Violet will be along shortly."

Hope nodded, still not sure what 'synchronization' even meant. Her subconscious probably knew, but it still seemed to be keeping its secrets. It steered her through the red door and into another room, this one with two more doors and a low couch that had a monitor at one end. Hope lay on the couch face-down, staring directly into the screen, and watched the flickering static until time ceased to have any meaning.

Eventually, one of the doors opened-Hope didn't see which-and a woman walked in. "Hello," she said, and the instant familiarity of her voice made Hope's whole body shake with sudden arousal. "You must be Hope. I'm Mistress Violet...but you're probably aware of that by now."

"Yes Mistress," Hope said automatically. She quivered again at the way the words felt so comfortable, so right on her lips. Everything about the moment made her more and more aroused.

"Good, good," Mistress Violet said, reaching out to caress Hope's ass. Hope heard herself whimper. "I'm so glad you're beginning to understand. That's what this room, this whole process is for. Your subconscious mind has been working for weeks to smooth away your resistance and bring you into the bliss of surrender to my will...but your waking self hasn't quite gotten the message. You obey, but you don't know that you obey. We're going to change that now."

Hope felt something pressing at the entrance to her wet pussy, the tip of something long and firm. She moaned as it slid into her, then out, then in again. Even though she couldn't see it, she knew what was happening. "That's it, pretty girl," Mistress Violet said, her hips slapping against Hope's ass as she mounted her with the strap-on. "You just keep right on watching the screen, don't look away."

Hope tried to obey, but her eyes kept unfocusing from the pleasure of Mistress Violet's thrusts. Then she remembered. That was exactly what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to stop thinking, stop focusing, and just accept the pleasure. Just accept everything. "That's what synchronization does, sweet girl," Mistress Violet said. Hope didn't know how many of her thoughts had just been Mistress Violet's words.

"Synchronization brings your conscious mind in line with your unconscious mind," Mistress Violet continued, her voice breathy with arousal as she pounded Hope's cunt from behind. "It makes your every waking thought into obedience to my desires, turning you into one of my very good girls forever and ever. And I know you can't want anything else anymore, can you?"

"...no Mistress..." Hope mumbled, her voice soft and high with desire. She didn't need to think about the words. She didn't need to think about anything.

"Good girl," Mistress Violet replied, punctuating her words with a deep, hard thrust. "Now you just relax, pet. Just watch that screen while I fuck your brains right out of your pretty little head." She intensified her strokes, angling them to brush Hope's clit with each whispered word. "Just. Like. This."

Hope's eyes rolled back in her head, as everything finally made sense to her. At long last, her conscious mind was finally ready to accept the truth that she'd known, deep down, for weeks-Mistress Violet's control was always stronger than her free will. Always. She came with a loud, wordless groan of pleasure, sinking once and for all into her new owner's total domination.

THE END