Deprogramming

It had been a long day for the receptionist.

She was glad to finally close up the clinic. Since the doctor was off for the rest of the night, she could go home and rest for a few hours until sunrise.

Just then, the mini-van that had been speeding down the road behind her came to a screeching halt. The side door flung open and two men jumped out, faces covered by bandanas.

She managed to elbow the first one in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground, but the second one's taser was in her ribs before she could swing around. She thrashed about for a moment. Then they tossed her in the vehicle, and sped away. The only witness to their crime, a dog barking in the distance.

While the men in the back were busy zip-tying their newly acquired cargo, the driver called in to report. On the other side of the line, a tight suited man picked up.

"Deliver the target to the agreed upon place. I will meet you there and take over personally."

The drive was long and tedious. Demi couldn't tell how long exactly, she couldn't see through the canvas bag they put over her head, but judging by how many stops they made, it had been well over a day.

The van came to a stop with a high-pitch whine. Two pairs of strong arms picked her up, one hand covered her mouth. They were moving inside a building, walking up some stairs. She tried to pick out any details in case she could make a break. She was tossed on a mattress, and promptly abandoned. She screamed for help. None came.

Her throat was burning, she had to pause between shouts now. Then she heard the door open. Steps coming her way. The bag was pulled off of her, and she had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light.

The room felt familiar. It looked suspiciously like the guest bedroom at her parents' house. The one that had been hers growing up. And the person holding the bag that had kept her blind looked awfully like her brother. She knew appearances could be deceiving, but she had to find out.

"Brian?" She croaked.

"Hey Vi." He gave a small wave. The look on his face was a strange mix of excitement and guilt.

"What's going on?"

"You're back home." He motioned to the room around them. He showed her a small bottle. "David says that I have to take off your nails, for your safety. Then I can untie you."

"Who the fuck is David?" None of it made sense.

The acrid smell of acetone filled the air as Brian drenched a rag and went to work on his sister's signature manicure. It was in a sorry state, more than half of it had shattered or been torn off during her trip. She didn't put up any struggle.

"He's a psychologist. He helps people like you get away from bad situations, and go back to normal."

Her head was throbbing with pain. "Brian, I don't want to be here."

"Mom and dad..." Her brother paused his work with a sad expression. "Since you disappeared, they've not been the same. All they ever talk about is finding you, getting you out. They're so happy to finally have you back."

It was all too much to take in.

He finished with her nails, and carefully cut her restraints. Her wrists and ankles were aching in pain, but it felt good to be able to stretch.

"Dad'll be over soon." He put his hand on her knee to show of his support, smiled, and left her to figure things out.

The man entering the room was tall with broad shoulders. His hands were the size of those that had to work with heavy tools their entire life to survive.

"Hey pumpkin. You've stopped screaming." He was of a few words, his face inscrutable.

"Dad, I don't..." She didn't know what to say.

"Your brother tells me you could use a shower. Come on." He escorted his daughter to the bathroom, it hadn't changed one bit in all those years.

She was about to hop in the tub, but turned to her father. "Do you have to stay in here?"

"I'm afraid so Vi. For your safety."

She sighed, hiding behind the curtains as well as she could. The warm water felt heavenly on her weary skin, getting rid of the grime and dried sweat that had accumulated during her unpleasant voyage. She stayed in much longer than usual, letting it soak in. Then she asked for a towel that she wrapped around her waist. The whole affair had been rather soothing, until she caught a glimpse of her face in the foggy mirror.

Sudden panic.

"Dad, please, I need you to get me some makeup, some of mom's makeup!" She said in terror.

"David says we can't-" He wasn't able to finish.

"No, you don't understand! Please dad! I need it!" She dropped to her knees, clutching at him hysterically.

He retreated from the onslaught until his back hit the door.

"I'll do anything! I beg you!" She was reaching for his belt. "I'll suck your cock! I'll-"

The slap resounded sharply against the white tiled walls. She slumped to the floor, blubbering incoherently.

Never, not even the day he'd learned his daughter had gone missing, but seeing her in this state, had his heart broken so.

Everyone in the house had gathered in the living room. As a precaution, all reflective surfaces had been covered, a tablecloth even draped over the television set. The evening's meeting was about to start.

Demi, or Vivian as her family knew her, was sitting restlessly in the poufy armchair that had been brought in the room for the occasion. Underneath the old frumpy sweat pants and shirt she was wearing, you could still make out her extreme curves, but she had been denied all other artifices. Her foot was tapping the air nervously.

The man in tight clothing introduced himself. "I'm David, I come from the Cult Rescue Association at the behest of your family."

"I'm not in a cult." Gone were the cutesy high-pitched inflections from the receptionist's expression.

"Our expertise helps people from a wide variety of circumstances escape abusive situations." His voice was calm and measured.

"Uh-huh, do the people you help often end up kidnapped and held against their will?" Her tone was acerbic, she wasn't really looking for an answer.

"When the environment is particularly hostile, and with the family's blessing, we sometimes consider it acceptable against the alternative."

She gave each of her relatives a scalding look. "So I can't leave, can't call my friends, can't fucking dress myself, and it's all for my own good." She laughed derisively.

"It can be a difficult process at first, and we have to keep you from the sources of bad influence. But, in time, it will get easier and you will regain your freedoms. We want to help you come back to a normal life. "

"You have no fucking idea about any of my life!" This whole treatment was infantilizing, and made her come across more like an angsty teen than an abduction victim.

"This is why we hold these meetings." He opened his arms to the room. "Here we can all share our experiences and feelings with each other. Why don't you tell us about your life?"

"Tell you about my life?" Their stupidity was overwhelming her. "You don't have a clue who you're dealing with. Those people don't give a fuck about you or me, we're cattle, livestock to them." She had gotten up somewhere in the middle of her rant. "If I tell you anything, they will murder me, and you, and everyone you know just for good measure! You think I can just tell you about my life!"

Inflamed, Vivian had flipped over the coffee table in defiance, when her brother tackled her from behind. They wrestled on the floor for a while.

"They'll kill us all! We're all fucking dead!" Her shrill screams sent shivers down her parents' spines.

Both her mother and father had stood up during the commotion, wanting to help, but unsure how.

As Brian dragged his thrashing and wailing sister back to her room, David softly explained to them: "This sort of paranoid catastrophizing is very common with cult survivors, it's just another means of control they need to break free from. When she wakes up tomorrow, still alive, it will chip a little more at the illusion of power they had over her."

The rehabilitation was starting out rougher than they had thought.

Vivian sat on the bed, reading a book. There wasn't much else for her to do these days. She had already thoroughly explored the small room she was confined to. A lock outside her door, bars on the windows, she didn't have any means of escape. So she settled in for the long haul.

A soft knock interrupted her reading. She put her novel down and answered. "Come in." At least they gave her some privacy.

Her mother poked her head in. "Hey sweetie. The other night I noticed your hair had grown quite a bit and I was wondering if you'd let me freshen you up?"

"Sure, why not." It was something to do.

She walked in quickly and closed the door behind her, carrying a basket filled to the brim with scissors and hairbrushes of varying sizes. Her daughter's regrowth had reached the point where she could see it, even without a mirror. The natural brown clashing harshly with the overly processed platinum blonde.

They set themselves up with a chair on top of a sheet. Ms. Thorper had made a career of hairdressing, and always found it helped people open up and discuss even difficult topics. She spoke first.

She talked about the days following Vivian's disappearance. How everyone rallied up to search for her. How her brother basically camped at the morgue in case she showed up. It was amazing how lightly she was talking of such heavy subjects.

"Still, I don't know about the horrible things they must have done to you." She was hoping her daughter, who had stayed quiet so far, would take the bait.

"She," Vivian corrected, "didn't do anything. I did things. The good, the bad, I did it because I liked it, because it felt good. She'd mention something, sometimes in passing, and then I did it because I wanted to."

"How do you know that you wanted to do it if the motivation always came from her?" Her mom had finished with most of the cutting, moving on to the smaller details. Bright blonde locks piled up by their feet.

She had to ponder that thought for some time. How could she know her own desires from the doctor's influence. "I guess... I'd have to spend some time away to really tell."

"All done!"

She didn't get to see, but with her new pixie cut, in her natural brown, Vivian looked like a different woman.

The family kept up its regular living room therapy sessions, and tonight was no exception. Vivian looked at least ten years older in her modest clothes, new hairstyle, and bare face. She had opened up over the past few weeks, cautiously sharing bits of her life, careful not to reveal too much.

Currently, she was retelling her first meeting with the doctor.

"We were both doctoral candidates in the psychology department, she seemed to see me as her rival, but, at the time, I didn't really notice her. My thesis got approved, hers was rejected, the committee thought she was taking too many shortcuts. I think she held a grudge about that whole deal. Then she just left school and I didn't have any reason to think about her at all."

David was taking down notes, partially to send the message he was invested, but also because this case was rather unusual.

"When she came back..." Vivian closed her eyes for a moment. "She was different. I've never been into women, but she was alluring, captivating. I fell in love, hard. Like a horny teen." She chuckled at herself. "She was my whole world. She didn't treat me so well, but it felt right, how it should be."

Her father looked to be the most uncomfortable out of them, however he did not do or say anything to interrupt.

"When she said she was moving, I didn't even call to quit my teaching job, I just followed. I was happy to drop everything, I could prove how committed I was, I could better focus on us, on her. We moved town to town for a while, staying in motels, she was looking for something. I don't know why she stopped when she did, but that was it, we were home."

The receptionist's look grew far away, her mind getting lost in old memories...

"Is that the best you could find pet?" The doctor was pacing inside the small dilapidated commercial building with her nose turned up. "I guess it will do. There is still much work to be done, but you have earned your reward for the day."

Vivian dropped to her knees and opened her mouth invitingly. The doctor was soon upon her, and she lapped and worshipped enthusiastically. The scent, the rhythmic movements, she was instantly entranced. It felt good to be in her place, where she belonged. Lower, lesser, being used, useful. She would spend her whole life here, serving her better.

"Since you had to sign for all of this, I shall be taking over your name. You will need a new one." She looked down at the adoring glazed eyes of her toy, face buried deep in her crotch. "From down there, you really look like a Demi. Half a person." She was feeling the rush of power that came from rewiring another being.

"Just Demi, nothing else. Remember your place my pet." Demi was willing to do anything to help make her new reality stick.

"We also need to discuss your appearance. Since you will be representing me, I feel your wardrobe is in dire need of a serious overhaul..."

The doctor's face lit up in a predatory grin.

Light snow filled the dark winter night's sky, falling nearly straight down, blanketing the ground with a fresh white fluffy layer. It had been many months since their daughter was returned, the meetings were less frequent, but just as habitual. The old couple was chatting with David while they waited for her to join them downstairs.

"She's doing much better. Started helping with chores around the house, running errands with us. My husband is looking at getting her a job at the old workshop." The woman's tone was full of pride and hope.

"I'm glad for this progress." David smiled genuinely. "It has been a difficult process, but you stood with her the whole way through."

Mr. Thorper eagerly wanted to contribute, but didn't have the words. "Tell him what you saw."

His wife continued. "Well, I think it's a really good sign, for the first time since she's back, I saw her smile today."

Three resounding knocks cut the conversation short. Strange, they weren't expecting anyone else.

Brian got up to see who was at the door this late. Opening it revealed a pale, black haired feminine figure under the porch.

"I believe you have something of mine."

The doctor pushed her way past Vivian's brother, towards the living room. The father stood up, grabbing the fire poker as he did.

"Get out of here! She's free from you! You're not-"

"SIT DOWN."

They sheepishly returned to their seats, the mother hugging one of the cushions defensively. An uneasy silence filled the space.

"You imbeciles. How do you think I found out she was here?" The doctor's anger was palpable. "She has been begging me to come save her for WEEKS."

At that very moment, as if on cue, their daughter made her way down the stairs. Her new clothes had been crudely torn up to strategically reveal her luscious curves. Her face was a mess, markers and highlighters clumsily drawn to create the equivalent of an 8 years old's first attempt at makeup.

"Demi, go wait in the car."

She stepped out, her feet making crunching sounds on the undisturbed snow. She briefly saw the limousine driver, still wearing his seat-belt, eyes straight ahead. His face was frozen in a painful looking rictus. She took her seat in the warm vehicle, patiently awaiting her mistress.

Inside the house, the air was heavy, like a thunderstorm could break out any minute. The doctor snarled, revealing a pair of sharp, menacing fangs.

"We still have one matter to deal with. You stole from me. I cannot just let that go." They could feel their hearts thumping in their ears.

She turned towards the man who had let her in.

"You. Dogs are not allowed on the furniture."

Brian didn't know what to make of that statement, it seemed so far out of left field. Silly stranger, he had to warn family though. Stranger angry, scary, making noise. Brian make noise too. Protect family. He barked twice on his way down the couch. Then laid back down, satisfied he was a good boy. Still, he kept a watchful eye on the spooky stranger.

If the doctor's normal fare was akin to performing brain surgery, right now, she was operating with a jackhammer.

She looked at the older woman, pointing at the pillow she was clutching.

"That is your soulmate, you lead a torrid love affair."

Being so close, feeling her lover against her skin, its delicate fabric smell making its way to her nose, its dainty lace dancing through her fingers, Ms. Thorper subtly started humping the cushion in her arms. It was a highly inappropriate time, but they couldn't keep themselves off of each other.

The doctor next focused on the patriarch, fire burning in his eyes, knuckles white around the metallic shaft he desperately wanted to use.

"I see, violent tendencies. Especially worsen by the fact you cannot bear to spend one second sober."

His face twisted in anguish. He dropped the rod and ran to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards, looking for the strongest alcohol available.

"And you." David was paralyzed. If he could have phased through the sofa, he would have.

"From one psychologist to another, tell me." She forcefully grabbed the hair at the back of his skull, staring straight through his soul. "What is your deepest fear..."

Dr. Thorper sat back in the car, opposite her pet. "Anything you still need from this place?"

Demi shook her head no. As they drove away, smoke could be seen beginning to come out of the corner of the roof.

The rescued receptionist knelt between the legs of her saviour.

"I see you remember your place." A thin smile spread through the doctor's lips. "The truth is, I have no use for you anymore. I have replaced you with an entire staff, expanded my operations."

She didn't believe her plaything would have given up any secrets, none that mattered anyway. But, as it were, she was more of a liability than anything else.

Demi understood and accepted her fate. She bent her head to the side, presenting her neck as an offering.

The sharp pain of the bite was quickly followed by growing elation. Perfect bliss filled her while her life drained. As she felt her essence meld with the one she loved, she smiled for the second time that day.

Then she felt nothing.