Chapter 15: Tamed, Lathed, Claimed

Michelle groaned, her eyes fluttering. Before her eyes would even focus, her ears start to hear, or her mouth alert her to any tastes, her nose made her very well aware of an incredibly powerful scent.

Arousal.

Her own arousal.

The scent was so strong it wasn’t just impossible to ignore. Such a powerful fragrance so associated with pleasure, with afterglow, with being so thoroughly taken, Michelle’s eyes couldn’t focus. Her ears strained to hear anything but the thud of her own heartbeat. Her mouth felt like it was full of that taste.

Ohhh… Fuck…!

Michelle moaned, rolling her head back and forth against whatever she was resting against as she tried to make the feeling go away or even simply diminish. It was so much, and when she made the mistake of inhaling again it made her mind seize up.

For several minutes all she could do was drool from both ends, making the scent that much stronger.

Maybe if she were able to take in the world around her that might have given Michelle time to think over her bizarre encounter in the parking garage, or to try figuring out what had happened to her between there and where she was now, but she couldn’t. The scent buried itself so deeply in her brain, in her perceptions themselves, that all she could do was shudder and drip—making her imprisonment within the scent of her own lust that much more inescapable.

She’d been trapped and helpless since long before she regained consciousness.

Unlike the first time her mind returned to any semblance of reality, the second would not occur without outside help. For a long time she lay back, not even aware that she was on her back, her ankles bound and her wrists tied together up above her head.

So lost to the world, Michelle was unable to appreciate how smooth and plush the surface under her was. She couldn’t tell that she was in the dark, or that her permanent bedhead was still making her look as though she’d just finished a roll in the hay.

She couldn’t even be aware that all of her clothing had been long since stripped away and folded neatly in the corner. The only sensation she felt from her skin was pure sensitivity and longing. Her thoughts were too muddled to understand that every time the air in the room shifted her nipples stiffened all over again and her pussy twitched.

Michelle drooled, waiting not so much patiently as ignorant to there being any alternative to her lust-scented oblivion.

Eventually the light flicked on, illuminating the room and Alexis along with it. She glanced around the room, paying careful attention to the corners and any blind spots created by furniture. She even made sure to look up to the ceiling.

There was nothing for her to find, nothing besides Michelle strapped down in the center of the room.

Alexis set down a large, unmarked, gray duffel bag on a nearby couch. Unzipping it, she removed a pair of thin, tight black gloves which she pulled until they snapped into place. Now gloved, she slid a similarly plain black backpack down her arms and unzipped it to a thin black laptop that she unfolded onto a bedside table she’d moved closer to Michelle in the center of the room.

Once it was on she laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. She felt the satisfying pop from most of her fingers, and smiled as she adjusted her glasses.

“Sorry about that, Michelle.” Alexis’s voice brought Michelle’s world back into focus. The scent was still there, still more than enough to make Michelle whine and flutter her eyes helplessly as she squirmed on the long, narrow platform that held her at Alexis’s chest height, but something about the way Alexis said her name made the scent change.

It was still unmistakably the scent of feminine lust, and certainly even more of it than when she’d first regained consciousness, but the strange blankness it brought before wasn’t happening again. If anything, her awareness of the scent merely served to make it easier to focus on Alexis and feel a tingle along the inside of her thighs from Alexis’s cadence, her voice’s pace, and so many other small traits of her speech.

Even as Michelle slowly regained an understanding of reality, and thus that Alexis had somehow kidnapped her and dragged her off to somewhere for some very kinky bondage games, it was still difficult to not enjoy hearing her speak.

What’s… going on…?

I was texting with Belinda… She was complaining about Claire blowing her off for the tenth time this week at least… A girl was in the parking garage…

Alexa…? Michelle narrowed her eyes. The white ceiling was bright, but the pain of how bright it was helped Michelle to concentrate. No… Alexis… She touched me and then… then… Michelle whined, her naked toes curling.

“I’m sure you’ve been in a similar situation before. There I was, the room already prepared for you, you in the backseat of your own car and then…”

Snap!

Alexis snapped her fingers right above Michelle’s face, so close that the small, cool burst of air between her eyes made Michelle whimper. Her mouth twisted, and her thighs clenched. It was such a small gesture, but something in that breeze, a small breeze that most anyone would have ignored, was enough to make Michelle grunt and twist uselessly in her bonds.

“Then I’m halfway back to get started on you, I’ve already texted your boyfriend so no one will be particularly worried about you very quickly, and then of course, the phone starts ringing…” Alexis shook her head, gloved fingers slowly, delicately caressing along the curve of Michelle’s breast. “My phone, of course, not yours. I turned that off before I started driving just in case. It’s always better to be safe than sorry, and your own texts gave me the perfect excuse for where you’ve been…

“But my boss is on the phone, and she’s telling me that things are different now and I can’t do things the old fashioned way—as much fun as it really is. You’re really missing out, you know.” Alexis smirked, grasping Michelle’s breast just firmly enough to make her whine and try to squirm away. “Maybe once I’m done we can record you complaining about doing things the new way, no one would really care about it… but it might be fun for my collection.”

Old… fashioned… what…?

Why is she… fondling me… and why does it feel… nnnn… so… good…? Michelle whined again, trying to twist away from Alexis’s gloved hand only to find that she had an entirely pitiful range of motion.

“Of course I couldn’t just leave you strapped to the back seat of your car while I went to pick things up… so I had to bring you in here, strip you down, strap you down…” Alexis licked her lips, squeezing Michelle’s nipple until she cried out. “I didn’t mind that part at all, if I’m honest. That was going to happen either way and I’d been looking forward to it. You were already a lot of fun even in the back seat of a car. Probably one of my least favorite places. There’s never any room!

“So then I go to pick up the supplies, I hit traffic of all things because of an accident… ugh.” Alexis sighed, her hands moving down along Michelle’s body until they tightly squeezed her hips. Michelle groaned and tried, unsuccessfully, to sink deeper into the leather. “You know how it is—you’re sent to do one job, and then it turns out that you’re sent to do two and in a third way…”

Is this girl… psycho… or… dangerous… or… Michelle whined, trying to pull her thighs together as fingers moved down along the inside of her thighs until they rested just above her knees. Mmm… both…? I don’t… I don’t understand how she’s so good at touching me…!

Alexis rolled her eyes as she stroked down to Michelle’s ankles, giving them a squeeze that sent pulses of electric heat right between her legs. Michelle whimpered, arching as high as she could before falling limp against the leather. The slowly sharpening consciousness in her mind hazed, but not enough to suggest it was gone.

Instead of being mentally overwhelmed, Michelle’s reasoning was clouded in lust.

“Oh, and before I forget…? I really didn’t want to forget to mention this…” Alexis’s fingers stroked back up along the inside of Michelle’s legs, and every inch, every centimeter, the building pressure in Michelle’s belly was harder and harder to ignore.

Wh-o-oohhh…! Michelle groaned, her eyes feeling drawn together but not irresistibly so. They twitched as she tried to keep them looking forward, but it was hardly impossible. H-how is she making me feel… feel like she’s ben teasing me for hours…?!

I really want to cum…!

Alexis’s fingers were really taking their time, making subtle, precise motions side to side even as they stroked higher and higher. Trying to follow the exact motions was dizzying, too complicated for Michelle’s tired mind to properly understand, but the effect was unmistakable. The higher they rose, the more intensely that Michelle was craving, aching, her whole body humming with the need to burst all over those smooth gloves.

“I’m a fan of a woman having a bit of a bush. Maybe it’s because as a weaver I’m not allowed to have one? Gets in the way of the tattoo… but I really love what you’ve done with yours…” Alexis’s fingers stopped moving any higher, stopping barely microns away from directly stroking Michelle’s lower lips as they twitched, flush and slick from the gentle, seemingly unending side-to-side friction of Alexis’s fingertips. “But yours? It isn’t just a bush…

“Martini glass? I don’t see these nearly often enough…” Alexis leaned down, starting to breathe cool air over the tips of her fingers and then higher still, teasing the cool air along her slit. Michelle whimpered, trying pitifully to struggle away only to find herself arching towards Alexis’s lips. “It’s the best of both worlds between a Bermuda and a landing strip. You have good taste.”

“S-stooop…!” Michelle finally found one pair of her lips responding properly to her commands, even if the other set continued to move in the one direction she wanted them to avoid. “What are you g-g-going to d-d-do to meeeee….? Nnnnnhhh… What’s going ooon?!”

Alexis laughed, her pretty gray eyes locking with Michelle’s blues. Unlike when their eyes met in the parking garage, Michelle didn’t feel lost in them, or mystified by just how gray they were.

Instead, Michelle felt afraid of the lust and mischievous delight she found within.

Ohhh fuck… She is enjoying this… She’s enjoying this more because I’m struggling… but I can’t just let her do… whatever she’s trying to do to me!

Alexis stopped blowing, and Michelle mewled in release before whining as she remembered just how much her body needed to cum. Unaware of a single good option, Michelle tried to thrash and instead gave Alexis a show.

“Well, what I was going to do?” Alexis sucked in a deliberately loud, slow breath. Michelle spent the entire time wincing, clenching, trying to draw her thighs together only to feel her body somehow paralyzed by the sound. Hooding her eyes, Alexis exhaled, blowing directly across the dark brown hair she so admired. The way the cold of Alexis’s breath coiled down each strand of hair, settling into such vulnerable, defenseless places inside of Michelle had her body tightening even more, legs locked apart, pussy exposed and slick. “I was going to interrogate you.

“It’s a fun process! First, I tame your beautiful body… like I already have.” Smirking, Alexis reached two fingers towards Michelle’s slit, moving them closer and closer. Michelle’s hips rose, but the more they rose, the more Alexis kept herself just far enough away to grant nothing but a faint, distant feeling of warmth. “That?

“That’s one tamed pussy.”

Michelle shuddered. She wanted to argue, but that felt exceptionally meaningless when it was so obvious how right Alexis was. When Alexis teased, Michelle’s pussy leapt at the chance to be fulfilled, to be granted release

Even though Michelle had already determined that Alexis wasn’t going to grant it convincing her body of that was another story entirely.

“F-f-fuck yoouuu!”

Alexis wagged her finger, smiling as though she didn’t have a care in the world. “The lathe makes it harder to have your mouth between my legs, so I’ll need to wait until after you’re reshaped for that. For what it’s worth I’ve basically been trained as a service top, so I get off on making you cum. I appreciate the concern.”

Michelle sputtered uselessly as Alexis blew her a kiss. She tried to look away, to just ignore it, but some part of her was imagining the kiss as a translucent pink heart aimed directly for her clit. S-stop it… it’s not really there… it’s not going to—

“nnnnhaaaaaaaaa!”

She howled, bucking into the heart when it connected. It didn’t just tingle into her and vanish, but flicked, swirled, grasped, squeezed…

Then it was gone, and Michelle was drenched and whining.

Alexis was bent over the duffel bag, and loud sounds of plastic and metal slotting together only hinted at her actions. “Do you know what a lathe is, Michelle? Oh wait, right, I wasn’t done describing what I’m going to do to you…! Sorry, these things come apart much easier than they go back together… It almost feels like an insult that they don’t trust me to handle this without tech, but you aren’t an interrogation anymore… you’re a conversion.”

Michelle whimpered, suddenly feeling like Alexis injected her with a syringe full of ice water. To her dismay that did nothing to stop the insistent cries from between her legs, but at least it didn’t seem to be making her aroused by the fear of Alexis.

That was something.

“C-conversion…?”

“Mm-hm. Conversion.” Another loud click echoed, and Alexis let out a relieved sigh. “Nearly done… but basically, instead of just making you more amenable to telling me what I want to know, changing you until you’re just flexible enough morally, ethically, just flimsy enough in making your own decisions-much less sticking to them—would have been fun for both of us. When I was done you wouldn’t even remember I was here unless your personality liked what I made you more than being yourself.”

Alexis stopped constructing whatever it was inside of the duffel bag for a moment. The utter silence until Michelle whimpered again was palpably unsettling.

“That usually doesn’t happen.”

Michelle whimpered even louder, trying to thrash again and feeling much more powerless for how little that mattered.

“But hey, that’s irrelevant for you, anyway!” Alexis chuckled, and went back to work. All that Michelle could see was her back swaying side to side as she constructed… something. “What’s going to happen to you will be less personalized, less… special, but instead of being used for a short time to answer all of my questions, maybe even call one of my friends…? You get to learn what a lathe is first hand, if you don’t know already. You never did answer.”

When Alexis turned around, she was holding a device that looked like a large, wide ring. It was hard to see inside, but it looked like there were lights, or some sort of screen on the inside. The outside looked unremarkable except for the many dividing lines where one part snapped in to another.

“I know what a fucking lathe is!”

“Good!” Alexis laughed, approaching Michelle and holding the ring just above her head. Michelle whimpered, trying to pull her head away, but Alexis removed the ring first. Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry, it’ll be back soon. The data we had on the circumference of your head was accurate, that’s all. Needed to check that first before we get to… lathing.”

Images of wooden table legs held suspended in the air filled Michelle’s mind. That wasn’t so bad, but when she imagined herself as the table leg, and Alexis lifting up some manner of sanding, cutting, or other tool Michelle couldn’t stop herself from whimpering.

“Oh, don’t worry. This doesn’t hurt—and it isn’t a physical lathe. This will spin your mind around, and around, and around, until you’ve been reshaped to be our perfect little spy.” Alexis sighed as she returned to Michelle, a wire now hanging from the outside of the ring. “Once you’re reshaped, you won’t just be happy to tell me everything about your friends…? You’ll be eager to betray them. You’ll even be programmed in casual sapphistry, making it easier for you disable targets! I prefer being hands on-to using fuckbots, but… well…”

“Casual sapphistry?! Fuckbots?! I won’t betray my friends you fucking bitch…!” Michelle tried to struggle free again, but all that did was help Alexis trap her head inside of the ring before securing it to the raised leather platform. “Leave Shaun alone!”

Alexis snorted.

“Shaun? Don’t worry. I don’t want to be close enough to him to do anything to him at all. Maybe your cover identity will even keep fucking him just to maintain appearances…” Alexis’s face shifted into a cruelly innocent smile. “Who can say?”

Michelle whimpered and closed her eyes as tight as she could.

Unfortunately, no matter how tightly she closed her eyes that could do nothing to stop the lubricated plug from sliding into her ass, or the vibrator from being pushed into her cunt. She mewled pitifully at both, taken by surprise both times.

The ring was too wide to allow her to see Alexis.

“I’ve been told to recommend you give in so we keep more of your original personality, but I’m ninety percent sure that’s a lie. Struggle all you want! By the time I’m done…” Alexis plugged the wire from the ring into the laptop. “I’m pretty sure anything left of you is fake.

“Why would it need to keep around the authentic you? I’m pretty sure it’s just data.”

Michelle sniffled, shaking in her bonds as tears streamed own her face. Until that moment everything Alexis said, even with how bizarre this whole situation was, seemed so ludicrous. Now, with her head in some strange device, and the lights being turned off with a loud flick of the switch, Michelle couldn’t doubt it any longer. She couldn’t claim it was impossible and feel safe hiding from the reality of the situation.

Something very bad was going to happen, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“I’ll remember what you said, though…? Fuck you…?” Alexis smirked as she moved the cursor on the laptop over to a big red button labeled “lathe.” “When you’re done, we’re going to fuck, purely out of spite. Then, I’m going to make you fuck your way through your friends until we have everyone we want. Unfortunately you don’t have an easy out anymore… even if you wanted to tell me anything I asked… I have my orders!”

Alexis gave a mock salute, but she was the only one who knew it happened.

What do I do?! Michelle whimpered. Inside of the ring was so dark with the lights turned off overhead. Naked, strapped down to what now felt like little more than a plush plank of leather, Michelle couldn’t hope to cry out for some smart device or for someone to call her phone. No one’s looking for me… no one even knows I’m gone…

Then the vibrator shook. It seemed an innocent enough vibration—more sexual assault but hardly anything worthy of being called a ‘lathe’, but it was sudden, and so was the pattern of lights that lit up the inside of the ring.

“Wh… What’s going on…?!” Michelle called out loudly, her voice pleading and pitiful. “P-p-please… k-keep taunting me, keep talking… something… anything! I’m a person!”

Alexis kept her lips sealed as she moved to sit beside the duffle bag, pulling out a poppy seed muffin to casually snack as she watched Michelle uselessly twist. If there was any way for her to pull free by that point it would have happened.

Her body remained secured, even as the pattern of lights moved faster, synchronizing closer and closer with the strong, jarring vibrations deep inside of Michelle’s pussy.

What is this… even going to do…?! Michelle whined as the lights moved past her again. There was a row of simple dots, looking like LEDs, and then something more like a scrolling marquee that announced bus times—only the pattern on it shifted through the color spectrum, pulling her gaze along with it when something that wasn’t blank moved by.

None of it was anything that she could read or recognize, but something about the way it formed an obvious pattern, the way it clearly meant something, it grasped ahold of her mind and demanded that she attempt to in some way understand it.

Each time when the vibration between her legs intensified another stream of lights moved by, and Michelle felt herself pulled, twisted, tugged along. The vibrator pinned her body into place, unable to move besides to shudder and groan. When the lights came, they grabbed her gaze, and wrenched at her mind—spinning her, rotating her.

L-like a lathe… Michelle groaned as the toy between her legs vibrated again, and then everything spun, taking her with it. Nnnn… D-don’t… don’t understand how this… why this… What’s… what’s happening to me…?!

The vibration hit again, shaking through her body even more intensely. She expected, instinctively, that this meant the lights would be stronger, but instead they came from the opposite side of the ring, spinning her, twisting her, further distorting her perceptions of reality. Even though she knew the ring didn’t have the power to do it, that physics couldn’t possibly work this way, she could feel herself being spun, twisted, and in the process, something was being carved, smoothed, sanded right out of her mind.

A quicker, softer vibration hit, feeing so close to her clit, and the symbols came from the first direction again. At the center was a simplified symbol of a flower made more of shapes than anything else, but she’d still never seen it before. All she could do was watch as it moved by, and sent her spinning clockwise in the air.

The more she spun, the more of that indescribable part of her essence seemed to drift further and further away. Filled with the tight silver plug, a blue gem on the end that resembled her eyes, every time the vibrator shook she felt it in the plug as well.

Metal and irresistible, each time it hit the base of her skull Michelle felt less prepared for the next shake, the next ring of lights, the next anything at all.

Her eyes kept being grasped by the lights, tugged, spun, her sense of up and down, left or right, any directionality at all being ripped asunder. Her skull was ringing, feeling as though like a pane of glass it could shatter apart and leave nothing in its wake to protect her bare, exposed brain.

Her pussy clenched greedily around the vibrator every time it provided Michelle with sensation, never enough to do more than make her long pitifully for more.

Never enough to satisfy, never enough to make her more prepared for the next shake—only ever aching and quivering desperately for more that came only to be miserably unsatisfying all over again.

But it was harder to hold on to that frustration, to that lack of orgasm than it was to keep her eyes focused on the lights, her pussy focused on the toy, and her mind ready to be spun in whatever direction was required to help her take the perfect shape.

As the lights moved around, and the toy shook inside of her, words throbbed through her skull as if leaking through the cracks in her defenses.

Immortal Aphrodite…

Michelle cried out, her pussy clenching around the toy even without the vibrations running through her. Those two simple words felt more stimulating than any touch she’d ever felt—even the touches from Alexis. Something about the way they felt indented into her brain, or her brain specifically shaped to receive them… it all made Michelle feel weaker.

Receptive.

On your intricately brocaded throne…

Michelle screamed. These words fit in with the last, feeling almost as though they were sewing their way into her libido itself and becoming a part of her fantasies, her clit, her very sexuality. She could picture Aphrodite on her throne, and the idea of it, her flower, her sigil, it made Michelle feel so weak she could only helplessly groan.

There was more of those words, and she could feel it.

The lines… preparing me for them… two more lines… words… words that I need…! She whined, clenching around the toys still inside of her, waiting for the rings’ wireless commands to bring them alive again.

Sweet mother, I cannot weave… slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for… for…

The colors swirled again, spinning Michelle so much more rapidly than before. It didn’t sheer away her memories. It didn’t sheer away who and what she was—but it rubbed into her motivation, curled around her internal locus, and pierced her volition.

Child of Zeus… weaver of wiles, this I pray…!

Michelle’s lips moved with the words as the lights burned them into her mind, and sent her spinning out of control. The words bored into her, holding her so powerlessly still for the next words, the next vibrations, the next overwhelming sensations of powerlessness to delve ever deeper. Unlike when the process began, Michelle’s tears were no longer signs of her misery or discomfort.

Her lips were curled into a frenzied smile.

Her struggles were no longer attempts to escape—they were driven by longing. The same things that trapped her, that tamed her pussy were now being used to change the core of her motivations.

Dear Lady, don’t crush my heart…!

The vibration began anew, the lights began to move, and this time they didn’t stop. Symbols, shapes, colors, flashes, quaking, quivering, all of it continued without end. When Michelle began to spin no longer mattered. She was no longer able to feel the leather beneath her—only feeling instead the sensation of her body suspended by her bonds, spun and spun and spun so that she might be given the perfect shape.

With pains and sorrows!

For a moment Michelle almost came.

The pressure swelling inside of her, the miserable ache that throbbed and pleaded and felt like too much trapped inside too small a container, it was almost enough to burst forth.

But just before the pressure could release, before the pleasure could be enough to send her cascading to blissful erotic surrender, the sensations ebbed, and Michelle was too far gone to even whine. She breathed slower, and she squeezed around the vibrator as she patiently waited for the return of the lights from whichever direction they would come.

With nothing to think, nothing to do, and a need for more as she spun even without aid of vibration or patterns, she had only one thing to recite, one pleasure to receive, one way to earn the favor of the impulses corrupting her.

Immortal Aphrodite, on your intricately brocaded throne…

Thinking the words alone was nearly enough to cum. Michelle trembled and clenched, panting and screaming as they moved through her mind and out between her legs. More of her was reshaped, and she was that much closer to being perfect, perfect for Aphrodite, for her throne, and for Sappho herself.

Child of Zeus, Weaver of Wiles, this I pray…!

The word weaver pulsed inside of her, coiling around her most delicate parts like an impatient snake more concerned with swallowing her whole than caring if it could move once its meal was claimed.

More and more of her mind was enveloped, trapped. There was still no way for Michelle to rise, no way to earn her freedom again until the last of it had been stolen away and she existed as little more than an automaton. If she were asked if that was acceptable, the answer would entirely depend on how Aphrodite would feel about that.

Or possibly Alexis.

Alexis was much closer, and even as Michelle was denied again, so close to reaching some escape without ever being closer to grasping it.

“Dear Lady, don’t crush my heart… with pains and sorrows…!” Michelle screamed out the words, belting them for Alexis and anyone close enough to hear.in the hall.

Alexis clenched her thighs, watching with a peaceful smile as she continued to do nothing to interfere. She didn’t even dare fondle the reclining woman, nor tap about on her phone. The ceremony was sacrosanct, and not even Alexis with her casual disregard for being told what to do, dared to defile it.

Michelle chanted the manta, the stanza that identified a weaver again, and again, as the pleasure that overwhelmed her body and the words that she spoke became more intrinsically linked.

There was soon no world for Michelle where pleasure and desire existed without those words driving it forward. Sappho was a prophet for Aphrodite, and it was Michelle’s job to obey her disciples by spreading love and joy.

Colors, words, vibrations, even sounds pierced through Michelle’s mind, and she repeated the words that stood out to her. Her lips moved in a pitiful attempt to give the words sound, but her truths were so much less important than the core beliefs of the weavers. Michelle could acknowledge the truths, but not speak them.

All that I once was now exists for the Weavers.

The Weavers are the Divine path of Aphrodite.

I will grant even my opponents love, and through love, bring about the goals of the Weavers.

Michelle Clarke no longer exists.

I am whatever I am told!

Michelle came, but her mind was no longer cognizant enough for her to appreciate it. Instead of loosening the pressure, it merely acted as a reward for repeating the truths, the mantra, and for making herself available for those who would wish to use her.

Alexis sat on the couch, and licked a finger before carefully flipping the page of a book.

She hadn’t yet fulfilled her promise, but Michelle was still baking.

It was only a matter of time.