Mistress owns my body. Mistress owns my soul. I am broken for mistress. Mistress owns my body. Mistress owns my soul. I am broken for mistress.

The voice droned on and on.

Clara was beginning to panic. She looked over at her couch and her frenzied client. Marianne’s eyes were open, staring vacantly at nothing. Her voice was pitched high and frantic, like she was pleading with someone or engaging in some ecstatic ritual. Her breathing was high and fast. Her body was frozen as though in terror- except for one hand that slowly and absently rubbed at her cunt.  

Clara pulled her limp hand away.

It lingered in the air for a moment before resuming its’ teasing.

It was though she couldn’t even feel it, Clara thought.

For the first time in her hypnotherapy career, Clara had no idea what to do.

After last week’s disastrous meeting, she wasn’t surprised when Marianne had called to schedule an emergency session a few days later. During her first few sessions, Marianne and Clara had decided to try a memory regression to help discover the cause of Marianne’s sexual reluctance with her fiance.  But last week, when the regression had actually happened and Clara began to question her, Marianne had stiffened like a frightened animal. A look of shock had come over her face and she began reciting the same statements about being owned and broken, over and over. Her voice was both detached sounding and determined. It reminded Clara of watching possession movies.

Clara had tried to question Marianne further. She had even taken great pains to reassure her that she was safe and that it was OK to remember. But, despite everything, Marianne would only stare, recite, and touch. All Clara could do was talk her through an old trauma amnesia procedure- showing her how to box up this side of herself for the time being. She had been incredibly relieved when Marianne had come back to her regular self by the end of their session. At least, Clara thought,  that would give her another week to think about what to do next.

Clara didn’t get her week. Marianne might not have remembered what happened during her regression- Clara had been careful to help her repress THAT information- but apparently Marianne had been suffering from ill effects anyway. She had told Clara that she hadn’t been able to work, she hadn’t been able to spend time with her fiance, she hadn’t even been able to THINK properly since their last session. She found herself awaking from stupors only to realize with dread that hours had passed. Sometimes Marianne “woke up” wearing different clothes or in places that she didn’t recognize. The only thing that Marianne could blame was her hypnotherapy appointment. She called and demanded that Clara see and fix her immediately- and threatened to sue her for malpractice if she didn’t.

Clara desperately contacted all of her mentors before the session began to get help brainstorming how to help with Marianne’s memory block. No one had seen anything like it before. Clara had taken notes on their ideas and tried all of their suggestions anyway . She even tried the “boxing up” trick that had helped last week.

No luck.

Clara looked at the masturbating woman across the room. If anything, Marianne had seemed to retreat deeper and deeper into herself over time, becoming more and more lost.

She began to have a sinking suspicion.

The mantras Marianne recited sang out to Clara. They were familiar, like the lyrics to a forgotten childhood song.  A few times, she even had a vivid flash of herself, lying in a similar position and brokenly reciting the same words of devotion. It was worrying- like feeling a new ache in a tooth that had long since gone dead.

It wasn’t Clara who had broken Marianne. But she recognized the work of the one who had.

She decided to call Desiree. Her first mentor.

————————————————————————–

Fortunately, Desiree picked up on the first ring.

“Clara, dear, how are you? How’s your practice? I’ve been sending you referrals, you know!”

Desiree’s voice was cheery and kind. Clara reluctantly noted that it still pulled on her attention, giving her little sparks of happiness that felt particularly unwelcome in her current circumstances. She respected Desiree’s skill immensely but she knew she could never trust her. Not after what had happened between them.

She wasn’t going to get pulled into Desiree’s chit chat. “Do you know a Marianne Thomas?” Clara replied, accusingly. 

Desiree seemed puzzled. “I don’t recall that name. Did she mention knowing me? Clara, dear, you sound so strange! What’s wrong?”

Clara sighed. Took a picture of her masturbating patient. Hit send. Waited.

There was a long pause from the other side of the line. “Oh,” Desiree finally replied, hesitantly. “I forgot that she was Marianne now.”

Clara let the silence play out. She was too pissed off to speak.

When Desiree continued, her voice was regretful. “Laura- or I guess Marianne now- was my first. Twenty years ago. She was like you were when you were younger- she came to me saying that she had no limits and wanted to be completely broken. Completely brainwashed. There were…I didn’t know exactly what I was doing at the time. There was no one to ask, no idea that that could be done safely. We didn’t WANT it to be done safely. And we were both consenting adults.”

“I was curious about what I could do to her- what the limits were. I read up on cults, on psychological torture. I had all sorts of plans. I would keep her up all night, feed her very little, make her listen to my voice in her sleep. I knew she was becoming REALLY mine when she would only focus on her brainwashing. She started to punish herself for disobedience without prompting- and she’d reward herself the more mindless and obedient she became. That was really hot. I didn’t want it to stop. Even when I felt like I was losing control of it, it was hot. I didn’t…I didn’t quite believe it was real back then. I thought we were mostly roleplaying, engaging in a collective fantasy. I was only doing what she wanted.”

“But, over time, Laura began to fade and disappear. She quit her job. I was fine with that- I made enough to support her and I liked having a brainwashed housekeeper in the home. She stopped seeing her friends. She even stopped responding to her name. It was like her personality just drained out. Towards the end, when she wasn’t actively obeying me, she would just sit there in a stupor. Like she wasn’t even a person.”

“At one point I even tried to get Laura back. I would tell her that she WAS Laura right now, that she could act like Laura. And she would..for a few minutes. But she couldn’t sustain it. Laura wasn’t there anymore-not really. She was only my slave.”

“And- well…that wasn’t what I wanted.”

“I felt responsible for her, of course. I stayed….another 6 months after I knew it had to end. But- I couldn’t condemn myself to be stuck as her caretaker forever. Not over a genuine mistake.”

“I did my research- even tracked down and  paid a good amount of money for some black market MKULTRA info. I figured out how they built a new personality in their sleeper agents, one that could function in day to day life. One that would feel real and whole to my slave in a way that Laura didn’t anymore. One that didn’t have to remember what Laura had been through.”

“And so…that’s when I made Marianne.”

Desiree’s usually-confident voice had become more and more shakey as her story went on. She sighed.

Clara felt no sympathy. “So why is your Marianne stuck reciting mantras on my couch?” asked Clara, shortly. “And how do I fix her?”

“I’m guessing you tried a regression?” asked Desiree.

“Yes,” said Clara, her voice cold. “She was having sexual compatibility problems. With her fiance.”

“Fuck,” said Desiree. “Of course she was. I never thought she’d manage to HAVE a fiance. OK, so you must have gotten her under deeply enough that she remembered her old self. It’s like her old slave programming is coming through and she’s trying to erase Marianne in the same way that she erased Laura.”

“We’ve been here for 3 hours,” said Clara impatiently, gripping her phone. “Her fiance will be looking for her soon. This is your responsibility. You need to come here. Fix her.”

“That’s a bad idea,” frowned Desiree. “I think my going there would just…encourage the process. She needs more help than you’ll be able to give right now. Let me think. Can I put you on hold for a minute?”

“What?! No you can’t-”  Clara exclaimed, just as the phone went mute. 

She paced her office, frustrated and angry.

After some time, Desiree’s voice came back on the other line. She sounded calmer now. More in control. Clara felt something inside her shift.

“OK, Clara- listen carefully. This is what we’re going to do. You’re going to call and arrange for an involuntary commitment for Marianne at the Cedar Crest psych hospital. Tell them that she’s hearing voices that are telling her to harm herself. You may even want to suggest to her that she HEARS voices before you go- she’s way more open to suggestion right now that she appears. You’ll drive her to their admissions department. Dr Marshall will meet you there- he’s a close friend and I’ve told him enough that he can handle the situation. A commitment will give him a few days to do so more thoroughly. Dr. Marshall can contact Marianne’s fiance- you needn’t bother. You’ll return to your office and call me back. Understand?”

Clara wanted to object. This was completely unethical. She shouldn’t let Desiree talk her into participating in this.

“I understand, ma'am”, she heard her voice saying, as if from a great distance.

Desiree sounded relieved. “Good girl. Now go make your calls.”

Clara hung up the phone, feeling clear and steady. She knew what she needed to do next.