Hailee rinsed and dried the last plate, adding it to the stack beside the sink. It hadn’t taken long to wash up after lunch - they’d all only had snacks like sandwiches or cereal, anyway. Honestly, it could’ve probably waited until the evening, and no-one would’ve much minded. But it felt the need to keep its home tidy, especially while it had guests staying. Even if they didn’t care, it wanted to be a good host, so they’d feel comfortable staying there again in the future. It was a compulsion that came entirely from within itself - as least, as far as it knew.

Besides, washing up was a nice, automatic activity it could do without having to really think about it. And that was very much in keeping with the theme of the week - particularly the next hour or so.

“This unit is incapable of true human thoughts, feelings and emotions.”

Hailee glanced over its shoulder at S3-L3N4, sitting at the kitchen table with its laptop open. It wore chunky headphones and a VR visor resembling sunglasses, feeding the sounds and visuals of its programming sequence into its computerised brain. Typically of the aloof automaton, it was in the most neutral pose possible, its spine as straight as a steel bar, its face utterly expressionless, its lips very slightly parted. When it spoke, there wasn’t an ounce of emotion in its voice.

Hailee quivered a little as it admired the android, imagining what it must feel like to brainwash itself to such a degree. It had its own fair share of continual conditioning - being powerless to stop using it/its pronouns for a start, and reacting to pain by spacing out and sinking into a submissive daze - but Selena’s mental state, where it felt, thought and acted as if it was a robot 24/7, was simply astonishing. Hailee couldn’t help feeling curious, and even a little envious.

Its lips quirked as it continued to contemplate the cobalt-clad contraption, an idea germinating in its mind.

But it was distracting itself. It had places to be. Namely, upstairs, in its bedroom.

It crossed to the kitchen table and picked up its phone, which it had set down just behind S3’s laptop. Pivoting, it caught a glimpse through the glass kitchen door of Jelly Doll, standing naked in the middle of the back garden, its hands on its hips and its chin held up in a haughty, superior pose. Though it couldn’t see it from this angle, Hailee knew Jelly’s phone was set down on a nearby sun lounger, counting down the minutes and seconds until the alarm that would free it from its static state.

Until then, it was no more than a garden ornament. A statue, an angelic effigy, to decorate Hailee and Milo’s garden.

Lingering to look at the frozen figure a little longer, Hailee finally pulled itself away and sauntered out of the kitchen. S3’s voice echoed behind it, announcing tonelessly, “Updates 30% complete.”

Hailee unbuttoned its oversized white cotton shirt as it marched along the corridor towards the stairs, but didn’t fully remove it yet. Easier to wear it as an ersatz jacket, flowing loosely around its bare torso, until it reached its room.

Glancing at its phone, it paused, its foot on the bottom step, as it saw a message had come through from Phil, with a video attachment. It was already grinning as it opened the file - it had a rough idea of what it would contain.

Its expectations were pretty precisely met. The short clip, shot from above, showed Sabrina sprawled in her revolving desk chair, her head angled backwards, her mouth hanging open. One moment her eyes were fixating on something above her, and the next they unfocused, glazing over and crossing, her eyelids drooping. She was nude but for a pair of pink panties, down the front of which her hand was stuck, visibly moving. This was the least surprising feature of the footage - Sabrina had mentioned, on many occasions, how she found masturbating aided in mesmerising her. She probably didn’t even need Phil to prompt her to touch herself - knowing her, she was doing it before they even started.

“We all practice mindlessness in our own way,” Hailee murmured with a lewd smirk, as it sent a reply message: very demure ver mindless vry cutesy.

Tucking its phone into its shorts, it breasted boobily up the stairs, its open shirt fluttering further apart almost obligingly, even though there were no onlookers to appreciate the view (yet). As it made its way along the landing, it could hear voices from the spare bedroom - indistinct at first, but growing clearer as it approached.

“-stand why I have to be naked for this,” it heard Alyssa complain, as it reached the doorway and peered inside to see her perched on the side of the bed, pulling off her T-shirt over her head.

“Because I said so,” Richard replied, his tone faintly trembling with amusement, as it often was when he spoke with his belligerent girlfriend. He was standing at the foot of the bed, facing towards her, his back to Hailee.

She scowled at him, although Hailee could tell she was trying not to smile. “I think you just want me all exposed and vulnerable while I’m doing this,” she groused as she shucked off her shorts, not quite managing to hide the plaintive note in her voice. “I think you just wanna perv on me.”

“Whyever would you think that?” he teased.

Blushing, she held out her hand, her discarded clothes dangling from them. “At least tell me you got me something interesting to look at,” she said wearily, as he took the shirt and shorts from her. Turning and carelessly dropping them on the floor, he caught sight of Hailee for the first time and gave her a nod and a grin, which it returned.

“‘Interesting’ is probably the wrong word,” he remarked wryly, turning back to AJ. “‘Compelling’, maybe. ‘Irresistible’ - definitely. But I’m not sure you’ll find it ‘interesting’, really. You’d probably choose something completely different.” His voice took on a malevolent tone as he added, “If you had a choice.”

Making some low, incoherent grumbling noises, AJ cast her eyes downwards, refusing to look at him. Hailee couldn’t contain a chuckle. It really enjoyed the dynamic between these two. Her persistent insubordination, and unrelenting torrent of snark and sass. His obvious enjoyment of her defiance. The way he could turn on a dime from affable and humorous to sinister and seductive. How flustered she grew when he reminded her of his power over her - and how she continued to brat and bitch, fighting him for every inch of mental territory she had, until she no longer could.

And best of all, the way he could crush her into compliance in an instant. Which Hailee expected to happen any second now.

“Alyssa?” Richard said, in that low, teasing tone that Hailee found so attractive - and it knew she did too.

“No,” she replied stubbornly, still staring at her feet.

He glanced at Hailee and rolled his eyes, his apparent exasperation contradicted by the broad, adoring smile on his face. “Alyssaaa,” he sang.

A sigh from the submissive on the bed. “What?” she blurted at last, lifting her head to glare at him.

“Look at the wall.”

Her eyes flicked forwards, fixing on a spot on the light blue wall directly ahead of her. “Ohh,” she sighed, wilting like a flower as Hailee watched, her posture slouching, her shoulders slumping, and her head tilting forwards. As second after second passed, she continued to watch the wall unwaveringly, her eyes hooded and her jaw slack.

“Good girl,” Richard praised her, getting a shiver in response, as he tapped away on a phone that Hailee recognised as Alyssa’s. “Timer’s set, beautiful. Just stare at that wall, and keep sinking deeper, until you hear the alarm.”

“Yes, Master,” she murmured.

He dropped the phone on the duvet behind her, and then scooped up her clothes from the floor and approached the doorway. “Got the idea from a literotica,” he explained to Hailee as it stepped aside to let him past. “When I saw the walls in there were light blue, I couldn’t resist.”

“OK, first of all, send me the link to that,” it sniggered, shooting a look back into the room at the nude girl perched on the edge of the guest bed, drooling on her chest as she stared blankly at the blue wall. “Secondly, how long’s the timer for...?”

“Forty minutes,” he answered. “We set Jelly up for forty-five, so I figure they’ll finish at almost the same time. I’ll check on ’em every so often, but they should be mostly fine on their own. We said we’d all reconvene after an hour or so, right...?”

“That’s the plan,” it confirmed, following him down the corridor. “Gives us all time for a little brain training.”

“It’s a good idea,” he commented, stepping into the main bedroom and placing Alyssa’s clothes on Hailee and Milo’s bed, folding them neatly this time rather than simply dumping them in a crumpled heap. “Keeping in the habit of being hypnotised...”

“Yeah, I thought so too. I mean, I know folks who can go months without going into trance and then drop as easy as ever, but some people struggle to get back into it after a break. The brain’s a muscle, after all. If you don’t train that muscle for a while, it’s harder to do certain things.”

“Don’t I know it,” he said with a rueful smile. “I got an A at Maths GCSE. Nowadays I struggle with my times tables.”

“And yet you make fun of AJ and Dani for being dumb...?” it joked.

“Fair hit,” he laughed. “But seriously, I agree - it makes sense. Keeping up with some trance training, maintaining that muscle memory... It must help. Especially if you can do it without any outside help, without your hypnotists - so you know you can still enter trance on your own, even if you don’t have a session with them for a while.”

“My thinking exactly,” Hailee grinned. “Hence the, ah, daily mindlessness exercises.”

His eyes lit up. “Ooh. I like that.”

“Thought you might.”

He arched an eyebrow. “You’re doing a lot of thinking for a fucktoy right now...”

“Well don’t worry, I’m about to fix that!” As he chuckled, it added, “Oh are you headed downstairs, by the way?” He nodded. “I have this idea I thought you could pass onto the other guys - a scene we could all do later, if everyone’s up for it.”

As it explained, Richard looked increasingly excited. “Ohh, yes. This is good. This is a good idea. Why have we never done this before?! I’ll go and run it by the others. Maybe - maybe we could even get it underway now, while you’re all already in trance...”

“Maybe, yeah,” it nodded, but then added, “Although it might be better to discuss it with us first, make sure we’re all clear on the plan. I mean, you can always wipe our memories after, so it’s still a surprise.”

“Good point. Good point.” He beamed at Hailee. “You are full of good ideas today!”

“I know, right?” It walked past him, tapping its temple with its index finger. “Now I’m gonna beat them all outta me ’til there’s nothing left.”

Snorting with mirth, he ambled out through the open door. “Have fun!”

Shedding its shirt and letting it flutter down to the carpet, Hailee gave its tender tits a brief rub. It had been quite cruel to them all week - there’d barely been a moment when its clover clamps hadn’t been gripping its nipples - which was just how it liked it, but it figured it should give them a break. As much as it loved punishing its tits, it knew when to stop to avoid causing them permanent damage. Besides, it could afford to spare them some suffering, when the rest of its body was also perfectly prepared for pain.

Approaching its nightstand, it took a dark purple sleep mask out from the top drawer. It removed its shorts, leaving them on the floor near its shirt. Then it circled back to the foot of its bed, where its toybox was situated, and raised the lid, which opened outwards, away from the bed. It stepped over the side, planting its soles in the padded floor of the chest. Crouching down, it picked up a pair of implements from the small pile of toys inside, before straightening up, turning towards the bed and setting everything it held down on the duvet.

It took a moment to study its equipment, an eager smile spreading across its face. It couldn’t wait to get started. It already felt its mind quietening in anticipation, as if it was shifting down a gear, its thoughts getting a little hazier. That was fine - it didn’t really need to think about what it was doing. It had gone through this routine more than enough times to ingrain it in its near-flawless memory.

Making sure it knew where its other tools were, it picked up the sleep mask and slid it over its eyes, plunging itself into darkness. It preferred to wear its dark contact lenses and sunglasses to obscure its vision - they made the loss of sight feel more real, inescapable and irreversible - but it didn’t really have time to fiddle around with them right now. It was prioritising the rest of the routine.

It reached down and searched with its right hand for a second, quickly making contact with a cylindrical handle. Bending over and planting its left hand in the bedclothes, it reached behind itself and placed the flat of the broad wooden paddle against its right buttock. Then it drew back and swung the paddle, letting out a small gasp as the hard blow sent ripples of sensation through its brain and body. “I am an object,” it told itself.

It struck itself again, and said, “I am a convenience.” Another blow. “I am here to be used.” Smack - “I am always ready to be used.” Smack - “I only do what I’m told.” Smack - “I do anything I’m told.”

And so on. It kept on spanking itself, repeating its party favour mantras, the words coming to its lips easily, even as the swelling pain in its rear, and the fizzing heat between its legs, fuzzed its thoughts more and more, its well-conditioned mind responding as it usually did, the paddle softening up its brain along with its ass. The more it hurt, the deeper it went.

It switched hands every so often to target the other cheek, the other arm braced against the bed to hold it up, feeling less and less steady the longer it continued, the strength starting to leave its body as it was slowly subsumed in trance and arousal. The blindfold was helping to space it out faster too - even though it knew roughly where everything was around it, it still felt disoriented, vulnerable, unable to be completely certain of itself and its surroundings without its sight.

It lost track of how many times it struck itself, how many times it repeated the well-worn phrases. Finally, the weight of the paddle making its wrists ache, it set it down on the duvet. Fumbling for a few seconds, it found the leather handle of its other tool, which it extended behind itself, shuddering as it ran the leather tip over its warm, throbbing buttocks.

Then it whipped the riding crop back and forth, letting out a yelp as it landed its first hit. “I am an object!” it said yet again, its voice an octave higher. Another swing, another sharp strike on its exposed, vulnerable behind. “I am a convenience!”

The blows from the crop were, naturally, more precise than the paddle - whereas the wooden blade had spread the impact across almost a whole cheek, the small end of the crop selected specific points that stung as if Hailee was being jabbed with needles. The pain was enhanced, and therefore so was the pleasure and the potent stupor overtaking its brain. It couldn’t find the impetus to hold itself up any longer, sinking down onto the soft duvet, its head turning to the side, its eyes rolling behind its blindfold, its voice slurring as it continued its mantras.

It soon reached a certain depth of trance that it recognised as the place to stop, as if it had reached the bottom of a staircase. Pushing down against the bed, it levered itself upright, standing unsteadily in its toybox, its head nodding forwards, its butt ablaze, pleasure pulsing through its slack body and its blank mind.

Slowly, carefully, feeling around with its hands for the edges of the chest, it lowered itself down and lay on its back on the soft bedding below. Raising and spreading its legs, it rested its feet on the corners of the box, reaching down with one hand to caress its soaking cunt.

Its other hand still held the riding crop. It was almost completely gone now, only a few scant crumbs of consciousness remaining. And those crumbs knew just what to do to sink it the rest of the way into the Spiral Seas, and to keep it there for however much remained of this hypnotic hour.

Withdrawing the hand between its legs, it quickly sucked its fingers clean. Then it moved the crop into position, and delivered a swift, savage strike between its legs.

“I’m a fucktoy!” it exclaimed, shuddering violently. It struck again, crying, “Use my holes!”

And so it continued, shattering what remained of its consciousness as it mercilessly spanked its cunt, blurting out the different mantras as it did so (having automatically changed to the phrases it was programmed to repeat when stowed in its toybox). Its mind plummeted further with every punishing blow, diving deeper and deeper into the dark ocean of hypnosis. It wasn’t long before it bottomed out, reaching the lowest point of a Mariana Trench of trance, at which point its swinging arm fell to its side, the crop slipping from its nerveless fingers.

Hailee the masochist sex doll lay supine in its toybox, panting and gasping and drooling. It thought and saw nothing, but felt so much. Its empty head lolled to one side, its limbs limp, its cunt and ass throbbing, its entire body pulsating in agony and arousal, its legs still propped up on the sides of the chest.