Her own arms betrayed her as she followed his instruction and shrugged the robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. The slave master cast a critical eye over his latest acquisition as she stood naked and paralysed before him. A downward flick of the index finger sent her involuntarily to her knees, her face inches away from his crotch, unable to look away. Unbidden by its owner, the woman's mouth began to open in anticipation even as the man's fingers slid down the zipper to his fly...
Two days earlier.
Emilia Knight covered the last few hundred metres to her house, ending her morning's walk. She'd spent so much time trapped at her desk or in conference rooms, pouring over a seemingly endless amount of paperwork, videotape and witness statements that to finally just stretch her legs felt heavenly. Today was Sunday, her first full day away from the office in almost three weeks, but she was also already looking forward to getting back to work. Tasked with the biggest case of her career, Emilia felt confident that her team were only days away from being able to make a series of high-profile arrests. She wasn't sure how the fallout would go, but she knew that a successful conclusion had the potential to skyrocket her career and that was all the motivation she needed. Her mind still churning with ideas to follow-up with in the morning, Emilia unlocked the door to her home and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
Kicking off her sandals, Emilia made a beeline for the kitchen to retrieve the ice drink she'd left in the fridge, but only made it halfway across her living room before a male voice behind her stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Hello, Ms Knight."
She spun around in shock and saw a man sitting in her easy chair, legs crossed with an almost amused expression on his face. It was a face she recognised:
Rocky Hayes.
His picture had been tacked up on her evidence board at work almost from the day her investigation had begun. Next to that picture was a very long list of his suspected activities, crimes that ranged from the financial - bribery, corruption, money laundering - all the way to his suspected ties with extensive drug and sex trafficking rings. At the exact moment of recognition, her flight response kicked in and she darted for the door.
"Stop and stand still".
She was almost at the door when she heard him utter the ridiculous command. It really was a ludicrous instruction for him to make given the circumstances.. and yet her body stopped dead.
It wasn't a conscious act, her body simply responded to the command against her will. She fought to move her limbs, but no matter what she did her body simply wouldn't react. She was just standing there, facing the door unable to initiate any movement, uncomfortably aware of the presence of the dangerous man somewhere behind her.
What the fuck is happening?
Time passed. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't make her body move. After what seemed to be an age of her just listening to the thump of her own heart in her chest, she heard the creak of the chair over her right shoulder and she started to panic as she followed the soft fall of his footsteps as he walked toward her. At least inwardly she was terrified, on the outside she could feel that her body gave away none of that fear. And it stayed that way even as she felt the man's calloused fingers slide into her hair and slowly pull her hair tie down her ponytail, causing her hair to fall free over her shoulders. Somehow the act felt horribly intimate, like something a lover might do, and she snapped, "Don't touch me!" It hadn't occurred to her to try to talk before she felt his touch and she was immediately relieved to find that she still had her power of speech.
"What the hell have you done to me?" she demanded, "Get the fuck off me, I-"
"Stop talking." It was whispered into her ear so softly that she barely heard it, but her body responded immediately. One moment she was mid-sentence and the next she was rendered mute as well as immobile.
His lips were so close to her ear that she could feel his breath on her neck. "Good girl," he whispered as two hands gently touched her hips, exploring the curves of her waist over the light fabric of her shirt. "What I've done is to provide you with the opportunity to start making up for all the trouble you've caused. And that means that you've got a lot of making up to do, Ms Knight."
Oh my God. He can do whatever he wants to me and I won't be able to stop him.
The hands on her waist tugged at the hem of her shirt. "Take this off", he commanded.
Emilia almost didn't register what he'd said until she felt her arms move of their own accord and her hands gripped the hem of the top. Her mind screamed at herself to stop, to disobey, but she was powerless to cause even the briefest hesitation as she pulled the shirt up and off. Behind her, she sensed the goon walk back to the easy chair and heard it creak as he sat down.
"Now the bra," he instructed, and once again Emilia quickly lost the internal battle as her hands moved of their own accord. A wave of humiliation hit her as she reached back to unhook the garment and unceremoniously pulled it free of her breasts, leaving her naked from the waist up. Her hands fell back to her sides.
This can't be happening. How the fuck is he doing this?
"Very nice, Ms Knight." His voice sounded somewhat distant against the thump of her own heartbeat in her ears. "Now the jeans: take them off."
Please God, no. Please don't let me-
Her hands moved of their own volition, betraying her once more as they hooked into the waistband of her denims and slid them down over her thighs. The tight material caught at her calves, and she lifted each of her bare feet in turn so that she could peel them off. The jeans were then added to the growing pile of her clothes on the floor. Now stood in only her panties, she felt utterly confused and defeated by her own helplessness, and profoundly aware of the sight that she was offering to the mobster behind her.
"Turn around."
She turned, not because she wanted to do so but simply because he had told her to. As she faced him, she saw his eyes drink in the sight of her. He did it slowly and deliberately, making sure that the beautiful woman before him was fully aware of her own helplessness. Shame and anger washed over her and she instinctively wrapped one arm over her breasts and used the other to try and hide her sex from him. She tried to scream at him, to force herself to do
something
, but found that she could do little more than gape in increasing disbelief.
"Stand up straight and arms at your sides, Ms Knight," he nudged gently, and to her dismay her arms fell away, exposing herself to him once again. "I know you must be confused so I am going to give you back the power of speech in a moment. When I do, you will not make unnecessary noise or seek help in any way. You will address me politely and you will remain stood where you are. Nod if you understand." Her head bowed in affirmation: she understood and the physical response to acknowledge was involuntary. "Good. You may now speak and if you have any questions then now is the time to ask."
"How are you doing this?" Emilia demanded. Even to her own ears, her tone sounded ludicrously courteous given the circumstances.
The mobster smiled. "That would give away the fun. All you need to know is that your will is subservient to mine. In general, you are free to move and act and say anything you like, provided that your brain doesn't view it as incompatible with a specific order I have given. That's why you were able to move your arms to try and hide from me a second ago; you weren't sure whether my original command telling you not to move was still in force, so you granted yourself some limited movement. As soon as I told you directly to keep your arms at your sides, you were forced to obey."
Emilia's breath caught in her throat as she asked her next question, "What are you planning to do to me?"
"I already told you," he replied, "I'm here to give you the chance to make amends for all the damage you've done. In fact, it's time we made a start on that." The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He pointed it at her and she heard the click of a shutter as he took her picture.
"No!", she gasped in horror and she reflexively moved her arms back to shield her nakedness.
"Remember what I said about your hands, Ms Knight," Rocky admonished gently, an amused expression on his face. "In fact, put them behind your back and keep them there until I tell you otherwise, please."
Compelled to obey, Emilia felt her arms moving behind her back.
"Sometimes we've found that when subjects get particularly stressed, their minds tend to blank previous orders and so they have to be re-enforced on occasion," he explained patiently. "We wouldn't want you to forget again, so please repeat my last instruction back to me so that it stays fresh in your mind."
"My hands are to be kept behind my back," Emilia heard herself say as if through a fog. It was her normal voice, but somehow it felt distant and detached.
"Good," he nodded. "From now on you will repeat all open-ended instructions given to you several times in your head and make an effort to remember them without prompting."
The playback in Emilia's head was almost instantaneous:
Repeat and remember all instructions. Repeat and remember all instructions.
The voice intruded on Emilia's own thoughts, making her complicit in her own conditioning.
