Callidus

Aria slumped in the chair and for the hundreth time pulled at the straps holding her down. She groaned in frustration feeling how weak her arms already were, knowing it was more than just exhaustion that kept her bound and docile. The speakers in the room hissed at her, a sibilant whisper that kept drilling into her head. She knew that whatever sublimianls ~soooo weak~ they were pouring into the room ~must relaxxxx~ would begin to take hold ~can’t leave~ given enough time. The problem was that she’d already lost track of how long it’d been since she was captured.

Her source at the Dept of Homeland Security had emailed her on Tues about meeting. It was strange, the agent was flat-out scared and this woman was a professional ass-kicker. Her story was even more bizarre. Weeks undercover at some medical research clinic, behavoiral modifaction technology, mental subversion . Aria hadn’t taken it all that seriously.

She was taking it plenty fucking seriously now. Her friend the federal agent stood by while Aria’s struggles slowed and ceased. Her engorged nipples were the only outward sign of how intensely turned on she was behind her expressionless features. An odd tone filled the room, not one Aria could remember hearing before now, and suddenly the other woman moved, reaching up and pressing something on the wall beyond Aria’s field of vision. The other woman shuddered in the straps and leather as the button clicked loudly, a moment later Aria caught a whiff of her friend’s musk and knew the other woman had just cum from simply carrying out her instructions.

The recorded loop kicked on and that sickly-sweet voice poured into the room. At first Aria thought it was the same message that had been playing since they strapped her into the chair. At regular intervals, the white noise and flickering lights would be supplemented with this, throaty female voice. At first it was the only thing that broke the monotony of the endlessly throbbing room, but soon enought, it too became part of the cycle.

Each time it clicked on a husking female voice would begin suggestivley reciting all the things that were being done to Aria; subliminals in the noise track, precisley timed flashes of light to sync her brainwave pattern. The voice would drone on and on about how each thing that was hapening inside the room had been carefully designed to make her more suseptible to what would follow. Aria knew how this mind game worked; tell a person not to think of a peach and they won’t be able to help themselves. Create the expectation that what’s going to happen is inevitable; what’s the point of fighting what can’t be stopped?

She realized now that even more than the mental sparring, the whole routine was designed to lull her into boredom. Endless hours of the same pattern of lights, noise, and words left her thirsty for change; something, anything to break the repetition. Now that the voice had something new to say, Aria was horrified to discover how eager she was to hear it; joyful and, even worse, thankful. She was concentrating so intently on what was being said, it took her a moment to notice the spiral rotating before her eyes.

In front of her, the wall that had been blank for so long was writhing with shapes and colors and more. She couldn’t quite see them, but she sensed there were words and images there too. The voice had told her there would be. Phrases the whispering audio track would have conditioned her mind to accept and believe; images that were keyed to ignite her own latent subconscious desires.

She tried to distract herself again, keep her mind focused on something else. She screwed her eyes shut and started reciting the first article she’d ever written as a professional journalist. Half way through the second paragraph, she was interrupted by a strangely familiar and hauntingly wanton voice…

“my mind is standing in the way of my pleasure, please take my mind and give me pleasure instead. i want pleasure more than i want my mind. my mind is the enemy of my pleasure. i need pleasure. i need my mind to be conquered. i need my will broken and my pussy filled. i need to cum.
i need to obey.”

Aria listened to her friend the agent drone on , begging to be brainwashed. She wondered how long she’d lasted with the lights and the voice and the images; she wondered how long they’d kept her horny and denied. Aria knew the things she’d agreed to with lovers after a couple of hours of intense teasing; she wondered how long it took a free woman to start thinking with her clit…and stop caring what it cost her.

Aria knew it was happening, she could feel it now. Obedience. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it would feel better to submit than to keep fighting. They knew all her secrets, all the ways to turn her on and leave her leaking from her slit. They could keep her horny and desperate almost indefinitely, melting her will while she rode the edge of one long, delicious orgasm that was always just out of reach.

She shook in the chair and for the first time wrestled with her bonds, not to escape, but to get a hand inside her thong.

Her clit was on fire and the best she could do was writhe in the straps and grind against her lace underwear. Just the thought of how she must look, bucking in the chair for a chance to pinch and slap her clit into blissful oblivion, had her closer  to the edge than any lover had ever taken her.  Her mind was spread open, as dripping and exposed as her slick nexus, and she was desperate for them to slip something in and mindfuck her  into submission.

Aria opened her eyes and let the swirling colors pour into her; melting the pink folds of her mind into a hot-n-sticky mess between her slave-slick thighs and wondered how the Impero Research Institute would put her aching pussy-brain to work…