Doll In Waiting, A Martian Court Chronicle

Chapter 2 - A Visual Gothic Sacking of Perrine Du Maurier

by Miss_Praxis

Tags: #cw:noncon #abduction #abusive_relationship #drugs #bondage #brainwashing #clothing #dom:female #f/f #latex #medicalplay #mind_control #needles #pov:bottom #pov:top #scifi #sub:female
See spoiler tags : #corruption #dollification #gaslighting #packaging #transformation

Governess Daphne of Mars watched the feeds coming in on the myriad monitors arrayed around the combat information center of the IMF Androktasiai
 
The team she had assembled over the last three months began to move into position. Each member looked like an unkempt drifter. They all appeared grimy, poorly dressed and haggard, but regardless of this outward appearance they were all consummate experts in their respective, unsavory fields of work.
 
“Now gentlemen, it's time to watch this beautiful dance unfold,” Daphne remarked  as she took her seat in a throne-like command chair as she crossed her bodysuit encased legs. Balancing one of her feet atop the point of her heel, she gently rocked it back and forth like a pianist’s metronome.
 
Each operative moved like a perfectly timed piece of machinery once they received the good news that their target would be arriving soon. With their well-gathered intel, the team knew exactly where the runaway young heiress was going. Every piece of information they needed on Perrine Du Maurier was Perrineilable. 
 
In trusting her contact in Posiedon’s Trove, the young woman had made a terrible mistake. She assumed that the person she told about her plans, an enterprising Jovian, would keep her secret for the large bribe she offered them. They instead happily sold her down the river to Daphne’s sources for a substantial profit.
 
The abduction began like a well-orchestrated stage play, exactly as Daphne had fantasized many times in the past few weeks. 
 
As the Governess watched her fantasy become reality, the arousal began to build. She hit a steady simmer as the young heiress appeared walking past an unobtrusive lookout camera feed, her captivating honey brown eyes called to Daphne again.

The hapless young woman advanced towards Daphne’s trap completely unaware of her jeopardy. The Governess found herself having to actively resist a desire to grind the palm of her hand somewhere most unladylike. But she contained herself nonetheless. 
 
‘I have waited so long for this, I can wait just a little longer,’ Daphne bargained with herself.
 
She forced her hands back to the center of her lap, lest some of her officers see her public impropriety. The irony of this struggle to contain her lust struck Daphne as quite humorous. Since the act of abducting a royal, albeit a minor one, was magnitudes more heinous than any of her current desires. Daphne mused about the insane duality of court life, whilst trying to resist the hungering flame in her groin.
 
As Daphne watched the shifting perspectives on the different video feeds, she was elated to see the young Du Maurier walking down a winding grungy service corridor.

The trap was sprung.

Wyvern, his stocky frame draped in a haggard, brown peacoat, closed the gap from where he was following the young woman and hooked a burly arm around her neck. At the same moment, Viper slithered out into the corridor from a recess just ahead of them, catching the young lady's attention so her accomplice’s movement would go unnoticed. 

Wyvern tried to choke the young woman tightly with the inside of his elbow, his opposite hand squeezing her head from behind. To Daphne’s surprise, the young lady immediately attempted to hip toss the larger man. She started cantilevering him over her hip, but Wyvern countered, wrapping his legs tightly around her. 
 
Locked together, they fell forward with her throw onto the ground. The large man maintained his grip.To the governess's amusement, the young lady continued to struggle against the prison of Wyvern’s vice-like thighs.

Perrine brought the fight back to a level footing with a charged stun ring, jolting Wyvern loose. However, it was too late; Viper grabbed her from behind, pulling the kneeling woman back against her. 
 
The operator then delivered a potent bite, her modified fangs injecting a specially formulated cocktail into the young woman's neck. The drug had been custom-tailored to Perrine’s physiology using stolen copies of the young woman's medical records. 
 
“Oh, how cruel to think that I should not be the first to taste her,” Daphne said with a mock pout.
 
Perrine slackened as the sedative took hold. She was unconscious in seconds.
 
Daphne licked her lips, allowing herself a gentle oscillation of her mons against the chair beneath her. The sadistic pleasure of watching the helpless girl fall into her trap was pushing her closer to open depravity with each passing second.
 
The two hired mercs bodily lifted the young woman through a nearby service door, out of sight of Daphne's current feed. She reflexively glanced over to another display which showed the approaches to this corridor. 
 
They were extremely lucky; not a single person had entered the corridor during the thirty seconds it took them to abduct their target. Daphne hadn’t wanted to pay extra for Mastiff's overwatch contract, as cleaner services greatly increased both his cost and the likelihood of an interplanetary incident.

A smile crept its way across Daphne's normally sanguine visage. The riskiest portion of the abduction was over.

Wyvern and Viper stepped out into a service area beyond the door. They were met by Orbweaver, a small, disarmingly innocent-looking woman clad in a cyan service jumpsuit with her blonde hair pulled into a sloppy bun. She glanced up from scrolling through her persocom as they burst in and swiftly grabbed a collapsible table leaning against an opened power conduit beside her.
 
The mercs deposited the unconscious young heiress onto Orbweaver’s deployed table. Orbweaver started quickly slicing the girl’s clothing off with medical shears. The other two hastily started undressing, grabbing matching, branded cyan service jumpsuits from a toolbag.
 
Orbweaver stripped the young woman naked in less than a minute. She moved with the efficiency of a poacher cleaning their ill-gotten game.
 
She snuggly seated a pair of oxygen tubes into the young woman's nose, fitting a silicone breathing mask over the top, sealing them in.
 
Next came support gear, as she carefully inserted a peripheral venous catheter into the young lady's arm, allowing for the convenient delivery of additional sedatives to keep her prey completely unconscious, enabling easy handling on delivery. 
 
This was accompanied by diagnostic gear including: a pulse oximeter, blood pressure cuff, a rapid deploying electrocardiogram nano-harness, and other medical accouterments, all spread across the young lady's body.
 
Orbweaver carefully lifted her into the bottom half of a casket-like carrying case. Its exterior matched a power component commonly used in places like Poseidon's Trove. 
 
The clear, soft, silicone-like internals gently shifted to form a perfect cradle for its precious cargo. Hardly even slowing her clockwork-precise processing, Orbweaver carefully connected all of the diagnostic equipment to the onboard air supplies, IV lead, and medical computer.

Orbweaver fitted the second half of the case over the young woman, completing her packaging. With a gentle hiss, the young lady was now sealed from all sides in soft nanomaterial. 
 
It quickly vacuum-formed to her helpless body, ensuring no shocks, drops, or other such hazards would damage Daphne's precious cargo. 
 
In the meantime, the other two members finished their costume change. Wyvern took out a small TIG welder and began to quickly erase the seam marking the carrying case as fake. A crab-like robot brushed away slag from the fresh weld and coated it in a layer of grime that matched the rest of the false power terminals' worn exterior. The process had an added benefit, in that it also sealed the entire container against hard vacuum and made it almost entirely resistant to scanning.
 
The case looked exactly like a broken power terminal now. To add to the absurd management of risk, Daphne had also paid Orbweaver to replace every single identifying piece of information on the existing power unit, matching it to the supposed replacement. 

Only an expert material analysis of the molecular makeup of the original would be able prove anything was amiss. The Governess knew it was an absurd request, but she really didn’t like loose ends.

Daphne’s faint smile shifted into a serpentine grin as, less than twenty minutes later, the package containing her sedated property rested safely in Poseidon's Troves’ waste ejection system. Nobody would ever suspect that The House of Du Maurier’s Second Daughter got smuggled out with the trash.
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