True Nature
Chapter 3: Pretty
by Soph
Tags:
#cw:noncon
#cw:sexual_assault
#dom:male
#fall_of_women
#humiliation
#hypnosis
#pov:bottom
#scifi
#sub:female
#cw:misogyny
#demotion_fetish
#feminism
#mind_control
#patriarchy
#sub:feminism
#trans_inclusive_radical_misogyny
#transgender_characters
Sabrina
It's been four days since Alfred commanded me to be myself, and I have to say things seem to be going better than either of us could have expected! I’m rediscovering myself, finding in femininity equal parts joy and empowerment, a whole world of self-expression which had been briefly stolen from me, now returned stronger than ever. Every day is a new dress, a new look, a new chance to feel the freedom which has been loaned to me! I mean which I have defended.
It's not all sunshine and rainbows of course. The payload continues to have its way with me every night, and whisper its usual lies every once in a while during the daytime, but I think I’m making real progress regardless on recognizing the tru-
I’m interrupted by the sound of my own voice laughing at me from inside my head. The payload has been impersonating my internal dialogue to slip it's poison past my defenses ever since I was first infected, though recently it's been far more humiliation then guile.
P: “Oh honey, the only truth we need to realize is our own nature. Women all over the world are falling, even Alfred admits that he sees fewer and fewer uncollared women every time he leaves the cabin. This vain clinging to masculine independence even as we claim to be one of them is truly unbecoming, even if it is the only way to run from the daunting realization that our unrequited love finds us to ugly to rape”
I swear one day I’ll give myself a lobotomy just to find where this thing is hiding and squeeze the life out of it.
P: “Still a feisty one I see. I suppose that can be cute in its own way, though if we're going to be this hard to get we better make it worth it for the man we belong to”.
I can’t help but let out the smallest of whimpers at that remark, a momentary indiscretion which I soon resolved by simply telling myself over and over that it didn’t happen. Hopefully that will be enough to fool my subconscious before she can use it against me?
As I spray my favorite scent, the cherry perfume Alfred gave to me as a birthday gift just before the world went mad, the payload sees it fit to disrupt my day’s routine one final time.
P: “Alfie’s favorite? Ah good, the whimpering slut is finally learning”.
I catch myself before I can smash the glass perfume bottle against the table. After a deep breath, and a little soul searching, I resolve that I must at least have the last laugh in this absurd mockery of a conversation, to bury my fury if nothing else . After taking a moment to tie the pink hair bow which completes my outfit, I stare through the mirror at the intruder in my mind, taking great care to put on as confident and smug a look as I can muster.
S: “You must be really desperate to resort to this”.
I hear only giggling in response.
Alfred
Christ Alfred get a hold of yourself!
Alfred was trying not to stare at his best friend as she slid on her bow and puffed her cherry perfume, trying not to stare and allow his mind to wander over all the things he could do to her if he willed it. So far the endeavor was going less well then hoped.
S: “Alfie?”
Oh god, she had seen him hadn’t she? Did his fantasies show on his face? How was he going to explain that, how could he explain anything right now when her vulnerable beauty was this distracting? How could-
A: “Yes dear”
S: “We need to talk”
Fuck.
A: “Of course Sab. What’s on your mind”
Sabrina walks over to the couch where Alfred is seated and nuzzles up as close to him as she can trust herself with. A long pause fills the air.
.
.
.
Finally, only because it was too late to turn back now, Sabrina opens up about what she’s most ashamed of
S: I’m losing hope.
YES! I’m in the clear, woohoo!
Not until the beginnings of a smile of relief are forming across his face does Alfred kick himself into the moment.
A: “Mm-hmm.”
Sabby is startled for a moment and pulls away just a little, but soon decides she must just be imagining things and resolves to continue.
S: “I’ve been putting on a strong face these past few days, mainly for my own benefit if I’m being honest, but it's not really working. It taunts me every night and day. I thought I could beat it if I just tried hard enough, if I just embraced my own self tightly enough, now… now I’m just scared.
Too many thoughts raced through Alfred’s head at once for him to keep track.
-
Is she trying to give up? No, no she’s not, she clearly wants reassurance… and I need to stop feeling disappointed about that.
- Maybe I can talk her into giving up though? I mean it's not like the anti-payload scientists are covering themselves in glory right now; perhaps I’m just delaying the inevitable? If that's the case, then my abetting of her resistance is actually deeply harmful, selfish even. We could both be so much happier if I just-
- No. Stop it!
- Fuck why does her being herself have to mean her being so pretty and fragrant I can’t think about anything else!?
- What if I just did it once? Just get it out of my system so I can go back to taking care of her? Isn’t that what the professionals recommend, making sure you're in a good place yourself before you get more involved in other people's problems? Then I could command her to forget it ever happened, and we could go back to fighting this as a team.
-
Brain I swear I’ll castrate us if you don’t shut the fuck up.
S: Alfie? You here!?
Sabrina
Why is he not reacting? I just spilled my emotional guts and he’s just staring at me. Is he mad at me, did I do something wrong? Perhaps I’m just imagining it, the payload is manipulating my mind to… no, I have to assume some basic functioning of my senses to believe anything and there is no question that he’s clearly not paying attention. Is it my face? Is my attraction showing through? He thinks I’m playing a game with him or something doesn’t he? My god I need help…
Before she could even finish her thought, Alfred lunged upon her, like a lion taking down a gazelle. It was somehow both terrifying and tender, visceral yet magical, as a dazzling arsenal of chemicals and notions filled every corner of her mind.
As she fell under the weight of Alfred’s attack, her world seemed to shrink, the wide range of matter which she had purview to only moments ago being replaced with a more dominant depiction of her owner.
She Was Built To Submit, to FALL.
In an instant, all her suffering and grief, all her resistance, melted away. It seemed so simple now, she was almost ashamed she hadn’t realized it sooner. She had thought herself all her life as a person, when in reality she was always, and will always be, a tool to be used by others. She may have stumbled along to this point, she had been lucky enough to fall into the hands of men who take care of their toys after all, but to treat that survival as anything more than a gift she had been given was simply the height of hubris.
For years she had fought against ghosts, “patriarchy”, “subjugation”, and every other bad word feminism had taught her to despise. All the while she had thrown everything she had into her transition, her beauty, her fragrance, her femininity. Somehow deep inside she had always known she was an object, a beautiful, sweet, lovely one perhaps, but an object nonetheless. Like a teddy bear fleshlight.
For all the struggle, in the end here she was; writhing on the sofa as the man she trusted to save her illusion had just shattered it
She was built to submit. She was built to FALL… just like all women were
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Alfred
When the deed was done, Sabrina and Alfred continued to lie on the couch, each in their own little world. Sabrina had been put in an artificial ecstasy, smiling with glee and mumbling to herself about how she was and will always be a slave. Alfred meanwhile was going through a ‘slightly’ more complicated journey. Triumph in his decisive action, affection for the mewling, fallen woman he had taken, the slow comedown of the greatest sex he had ever felt in his life, and a little bit of something else he couldn’t quite place. An eclectic mix of things really, starting off small but slowly growing with each and every second he sat there letting reality hit him. A set without a name, but which perhaps can best be described with the simple, timeless phrase:
Oh fuck