Indoctrination

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* * *

Time meant nothing to her now.

How long had it been?

It was impossible to gauge the passage of time in the windowless room that was continually bathed in stark brightness. The very concept of time itself seemed so remote and distant. It was part of a different life she once had. A completely different universe.

She was locked alone in this hellish existence.

She was so lonely and so frightened. Terror and fear controlled her emotions.

She had sobbed and wailed uncontrollably.

She had screamed in pure terror.

She had yelled in desperation for some sign of life outside the prison cell she was trapped inside.

She had clawed desperately at the door until her fingers bled.

There had been nothing. No response at all to her increasingly frantic attempts to make contact with somebody, anybody.

She was just so alone. Terror and the gnawing fear that gripped her were the only companions in her waking nightmare.

* * *

Amanda was completely naked in her bleached out prison. Well she was almost naked. Naked would have been preferable. The horrible collar held her neck tightly. The band of solid black plastic encircled her neck, stretching it painfully and forcing her head upwards. It was impossible for Amanda to move her head to the side or look down. She could move her head up a fraction but that was all.

Struggle as she may, the collar was locked tight around her. It was impossible to remove. That was the most frightening aspect. What was this object that was fastened to her? Who had put it on her? What did the collar mean?

It was all just too much for Amanda to take in.

She was just so alone.

Amanda's world was a white hell. The small room consisted of a white tiled floor and walls with bright fluorescent lights recessed into a white ceiling that blared continuously. The lights never dimmed. Amanda had an almost permanent squint now whenever she dared to open her eyes. But there wasn't much need for her to do that. The glare was much more bearable if she kept her eyes shut.

The room was completely bare and without furniture. The only concession to her basic needs was the central drain in the tiled floor through which she'd learned to expel her own waste. A small trough had been built into the wall opposite the blank metal door. Through a tube above it, some sort of greyish sludge that passed for food was periodically dumped into it. Amanda had no utensils to help her eat so she'd learned to suck the sticky mess off her fingers, licking the chemical tasting gooey slop from her messy hands.

Then suddenly it had begun. The voice had boomed through her featureless world. Startled at the sound of another human being's voice Amanda had staggered to her feet and looked around frantically for the source of this unexpected development. Her dazzled eyes searched the tiny cell in vain.

There was no one. She was still all alone in the room.

The voice had echoed through the silent nightmare. After so long bereft of any other human contact the voice was almost deafeningly loud. It seemed to be coming from all around her. All directions. The voice echoed off the tiled walls and floor. It echoed through Amanda's solitude.

Amanda listened more closely now after overcoming her initial shock. The voice was familiar somehow but also frightening. Amanda shivered.

The female voice spoke clearly in sharp distinct sentences. There was no emotion present in the words. The voice was as blank as Amanda's cell.

"I must obey."

"I am a slave."

"Obedience is pleasure."

Over and over. Just the same three short sentences repeated again and again. Amanda realised that it was on some sort of loop and that it would go on and on until whoever had decided to inflict this torture on her decided to stop. The same dull monotone rang around the tiny room.

"I must obey."

"I am a slave."

"Obedience is pleasure."

Slowly Amanda realised why the voice was familiar. It was almost impossible to believe. It staggered her imagination despite the terror and exhaustion that fogged her mind.

"I must obey."

"I am a slave."

"Obedience is pleasure."

The voice was hers. She was speaking these things. These horrible things.

"I must obey."

"I am a slave."

"Obedience is pleasure."

It couldn't be. Amanda had never said such things. Amanda screamed in the pain of desperation as she attempted to comprehend. What was happening to her?

"I must obey."

"I am a slave."

"Obedience is pleasure."

The initial shock had worn off after a time. How much time, Amanda had no way of telling. Instead the voice, her voice, had become a constant companion. Like the lights, it never wavered. Her voice kept repeating the same sentences over and over again.

"I must obey."

"I am a slave."

"Obedience is pleasure."

Amanda didn't hear the voice now. She lay curled up on the floor as usual, beyond caring. Amanda lived for the moment now. Amanda lived to crawl to the trough, eat and crap and then curl back again to the cold blank floor. Her eyes were closed almost all the time now. But it made no difference. There was no escape from the hard white world. Lethargy overcame Amanda's mind. Somehow she was no longer worried about anything. She wasn't even frightened. Amanda had gone way beyond that by now.

"I must obey."

"I am a slave."

"Obedience is pleasure."

Now doubt wormed away at her mind.

Was the voice from outside?

It was her voice?

Was inside her own head?

Was she making herself hear these things?

What did it mean?

Was she a slave?

What did being a slave mean?

Was it a good thing?

* * *

The room was empty apart from a single occupant staring intently at a bank of flickering screens. She could see the back of the seated woman, glowing faintly in the reflected blue from the screens. The tall woman's heeled boots clicked loudly on the floor as she walked over to stand beside the seated woman who had still not given any sign of being aware of the new entrant.

The seated woman kept staring at the screens. There were two screens active showing two identical white rooms with two naked females lying helplessly within them.

A wry little smile contorted mistress' lips. The one in Indoctrination Chamber 12 was quite cute. She remembered the girl when she'd been brought in. A helpless, drugged body with a smooth complexion, soft and generous breasts, an oval face, blue eyes, red healthy lips. The younger of the two sisters.

"Report," mistress ordered.

The seated woman spoke in a dull monotone. Her speech was clear and precise.

"Both subjects have responded to initial conditioning within normal parameters. Both subjects exhibit signs of acceptance and docility. Both subjects have begun the repeat the audio commands. There have been no visible signs of non-compliance in the past thirty hours."

The woman kept staring at the monitors. Her eyes never wavered. She had not been commanded to turn away from her vigil.

Mistress twisted her neck slightly to savour the statuesque apparition that was fixated on the screens.

The drone was a tall, strong, ebony skinned woman in her early twenties. She had well developed muscles useful for lifting and carrying as well as for restraining unyielding subjects if necessary. The woman wore a standard drone uniform consisting of a pair of long, thigh high, skin tight black leather boots and above that a black covering made of a glossy black material that hugged her groin tightly. Finally the drone wore a grey coloured long sleeved top. Made of some sort of shimmering fabric, the short bodied top reached to just under her ample breasts, baring her toned body from there down to the glistening black panties. Her nipples were clearly visible through the taut grey abric that enveloped her breasts. The huge collar of the garment had been pulled right up over the girl's head. The drone's face disappeared beneath the tight folds of soft material, leaving only a grey impression of the well defined facial features that lay beneath the cowl. An opening in the top of the mask allowed the long, tightly bound ponytail to be displayed proudly.

The drone still had a very faint trace of an accent in her voice even after all this time. Spanish or South American? It didn't matter now.

"Very good," she answered. "Continue Indoctrination procedure for another twelve hours. Then we can begin to brainwash our two new arrivals properly."

"Yes mistress," came the dull, mechanical reply from behind the drone's mask.

Mistress looked at the two passive captives. She saw their mouths moving in time with the synthesised copies of their own voices being broadcast into each cell from the concealed speakers. It was important to soften them up first by breaking their will to resist by showing how powerless they really were.

After a week of complete isolation, lack of human contact and terror it was much easier for them to believe in the new truths that were going to be revealed to them. Much easier. Their minds would soak it up like sponges.

Mistress smiled to herself again. This was always such fun.

But there was time enough for fun later on. In the meantime there was always more work to be done.

* * *

It was unreal. The door had finally opened. Through the dazzling glare Rachel had seen them.

Rachel couldn't believe it. At last she knew that there was someone else here.

Rachel watched the women enter her bare, stinking cell in sheer disbelief. She felt strong hands grasp her and then lift her to her feet.

Rachel stared at them in disbelief. The two women were either side of her dragging her between them. Rachel was just so tired now. Was this still part of a dream? A hallucination?

They were out in some sort of corridor now. The lights were different. They were bright but nowhere near as dazzling as Rachel had become used to. Nobody spoke.

Rachel couldn't speak. She was just too tired.

The frightening women in grey and leather carried Rachel on.

They were inside another room now. It was different somehow despite being all white again.

Chairs were arranged neatly in the centre of the room. Hazily Rachel managed to liken it to a trip to the dentist. It was weird. Was she ill? The women dragged her limp form towards an empty chair.

Rachel felt the cool plastic of the chair against her naked body. One of the grey women straddled her as she sat in the chair. The woman was only inches away from Rachel's face and she could make out a well defined face that even the mask of grey material could not hide completely. Chocolate coloured skin broke through the anonymous uniform of shiny black vinyl and grey material.

A thought surfaced in Rachel's mind. Pretty. Somehow, Rachel wasn't afraid anymore.

The woman's eyes were hidden beneath the grey mask of her garment. But Rachel felt their power. Meanwhile the other grey woman was busily putting straps around Rachel's legs and hands, securing her limbs tightly to the chair.

Then the faceless black woman who'd straddled her was gone. Rachel was pinned to the chair. Rachel couldn't move even if she had been able to.

One of the faceless women was beside her now. Rachel became aware of her fiddling with something above the chair.

Something metal and shiny.

Rachel was curious but not frightened somehow. It was too difficult for her to summon the effort to be frightened.

Why not?

She should be frightened. She should be very frightened. But Rachel just couldn't find the strength to summon even this basic emotion.

The strong powerful women were in control. Rachel was weak and alone.

They knew what to do.

Something was covering Rachel's eyes now, plunging her into a darkness that she barely remembered. Rachel blinked. It was impossible to see anything in the inky blackness as her eyes struggled to adjust.

Then suddenly colours cascaded in front of her eyes.

Something else was flashing into her eyes.

Dazzling, bright, vibrant colours. Swirling in spectacular random patterns changing and pulsating with life and vibrancy. It was so beautiful. So staggeringly beautiful. Rachel had to look. There was no way she could take her eyes off the captivating display. Whatever weak thoughts Rachel's mind had been able to summon dissolved into the spiralling rainbow that claimed her consciousness.

Blankness overcame Rachel.

* * *

The two females had been taken back to their indoctrination cells after their mild first brainwashing session designed to copperfasten the lessons they had been taught.

Dependance. Obedience. Powerlessness.

The two female captives had the glazed look of the newly brainwashed. The new truths burned brightly in their minds now. Their new existence was just beginning.

Arousal coursed through mistress. The screens diminished the sense of raw power and put distance between her and the prey. But mistress still felt the power. And it felt good.

The cute girl in Indoctrination Chamber 12, rachel, stood in the centre of the floor looking quite lost and vulnerable.

Her elder sister, amanda, in the other Chamber had slumped to the ground exhausted completely by the ordeal. She'd submitted already. The body language alone screamed the birth of amandaslave.

She would have no problems with that one.

Taking the microphone in her hand mistress spoke clearly.

"You are a slave," mistress barked harshly.

The speakers in both Chambers boomed her voice over the helpless victims. Watched them react on the screens.

The cute one, rachel, had stiffened to attention, arms by her sides, chest thrust out. A reflex action. Her older sister, amanda, was on her feet also and adopted the same stance. The familiar words hit home.

"You are a slave," mistress barked again.

Clearly visible on the display screens mistress saw the two pairs of lips move as one.

"I am a slave," came the subdued replies relayed from the Chambers to the control room. A puddle of dampness was soaking mistress' panties. A good first impression.

"You must obey," mistress continued in the same tone.

The mantra that had been drilled into the new slaves brains for so long now became truth.

"I must obey," the two female voices replied weakly.

"Obedience is pleasure," mistress went on.

Blankly the captives responded.

"Obedience is pleasure."

Although separated in different cells, their replies were synchronised completely. Each female responded immediately, without thought, to the voice of their mistress. Perfect.

"Mount the pleasure units. Slaves are rewarded for obedience."

Watching carefully, mistress observed as the two new slaves crossed over to the large saddle like contraption made of gleaming metal and plastic that had been brought into their cells.

Two phallus units protruded from the saddle.

amanda had already slung her legs over the saddle. mistress watched as amanda eased her body down on to the phallic stimulators. amanda's naked body rippled in delight as first the vaginal and then the anal stimulator penetrated deep inside her.

Meanwhile the cute one, rachel, had hesitated. Outwardly the slave gave no sign, no change in demeanour or expression. rachel had experienced a brief hesitation, nothing more.

A pause.

Then rachel too was easing her taut body on to the phallic units, gasping as they entered her.

Both newly indoctrinated slaves stared at the other new addition to each cell. A huge screen filled the wall opposite the pleasure units. Emblazoned upon it was the massive diamond shaped emblem in blue and yellow. The outer diamond enclosed another insignia like an inverted U, while inside that there was something that looked like a single eye.

The screen shimmered.

Mistress turned to the drone at the console. "Proceed with stimulation. Standard routine. Keep them aroused for at least an hour."

"Yes mistress," the drone seated at the desk replied.

Both slaves were panting now. Low groans of ecstasy came through the speakers in the control room as the vibrators swelled and throbbed deep inside their bodies.

Now the drone activated the voice playback. The comforting mantra. The new truth.

Glistening with sweat, bodies thrusting in rhythm to the unending stimulation, the two slave's voices panted in agony as their bodies betrayed them.

Both slaves stared vacantly ahead at the diamond emblem.

"i am a slave."

"i must obey."

"Obedience is pleasure."

They were learning to associate pleasure, unbelievable pleasure, with the endless cycle of conditioning. First cruelty to destroy their old minds then pleasure to reward their transition to their new slave existence.

A trickle of wetness seeped through mistress' panties. She could even make out the lower case "i" in each of their voices.

Slaves were not people. They had no individuality. They were objects. They possessed not a body or mind. They were nothing.

Slaves are nothing. Both females knew that now.

* * *

The swirling colours faded and grew dimmer. Awareness returned slowly to her mind. It was getting brighter now. The outside world was intruding into her private sphere. The visor was lifting up.

rachel blinked. rachel's eyes were tired from her continual staring. she was sorry to see the lights go as always. she liked the pretty patterns and swirling lights. They made her feel good. It felt really good when they took her to the chair and made her sit down. rachel never wanted to leave. At first, the grey women would grip her tightly and march her across the corridor to the room, but now they just walked behind rachel. They knew that rachel wasn't going anywhere but to the chair and the captivating lights. There was no need to watch her.

The strong woman dressed in that funny grey uniform was releasing her bonds. The woman had that lovely diamond enclosed eye emblem sewn on to her chest.

Right in the middle of her voluptuous breasts.

rachel felt the woman's practised hands unfasten the straps. The straps were more to prevent her moving mid treatment rather than as a means of holding rachel down. rachel kept still though. It was important not to move until they indicated that the slave should. It was important to obey them. she had to obey. she was a slave now.

rachel looked across the familiar room at the line of identical chairs opposite her. They were empty apart from a single occupant directly opposite her.

Another naked woman sat on an identical chair to her own.

No. The correction popped into rachel's head. Another slave sat on the chair. That was correct.

The black collar on the other slave was identical to the one that encircled rachel's neck and bound her mind. The other slave had a firm, curvaceous figure that rachel enjoyed looking at. One of the grey clad women was fiddling with the machinery that covered the slave's face. Now the masked woman stood aside, her task finished.

Recognition dawned on her. Familiar.

rachel stared at the blank, glazed features of the slave sitting opposite. The slave's blue eyes were dull and her lips hung open slightly. The likeness startled rachel. she stared into the other slave's eyes. The slave stared calmly back. Not a flicker of emotion passed within the glazed orbs that returned rachel's gaze.

rachel had seen the slave before? Had she? Where had she seen the slave?

No that was bad. The voice inside rachel's head screamed. rachel was thinking bad thoughts. Bad slave.

Slaves obeyed.

Slaves didn't think.

she was a slave.

she had to obey.

* * *

The grey women were escorting the other slave from the chair out of the room. amandaslave watched impassively as the naked slave girl uncurled herself from the chair and rose up and then stiffened alongside the majestic guards with their captivating diamonds. All three women pirouetted together and marched out of the room at a purposeful pace.