Chains

Part 2

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright 2024 greyscribbler@yahoo.com

Archived on the Read Only Memory web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

“Ashley,” a female voice spoke to her, firm but gentle, “can you see the spiral?”

She could. Spinning endlessly, her attention drawn to its centre.

Why? I don’t… I shouldn’t…

Thoughts eluded her. There was only the spiral. It was so familiar. Had she seen it before?

She wasn’t sure. Memory, like thought, was something wet and soft and impossible to grasp. Unlike them, the spiral was there in front of her.

With her eyes closed she could see nothing else.

“Watch the spiral, its colours, as its spins.”

It was so easy to watch the spiral. It wasn’t fast or slow. It spun at a pace so easy to follow. So easy to fall into. She could almost feel it too, like the shape was being drawn on the back of her hand, sinking into her. Like her mind was sinking into the spiral as it flowed, around and around. Was the spiral part of her or she part of the spiral?

Mustn’t…

The thought flew away, a feather caught in the wind, useless and forgotten.

There was nothing else, just the voice and the spiral. Was it spinning at the same pace as her breathing or had her breath matched its spinning?

It didn’t matter.

“Follow the way it circles, leading you down, leading you towards its centre.”

Ashley didn’t focus on the shape in her mind. She couldn’t. She didn’t need to. Focus implied choice, some other alternative. The slowly spinning shape with its beautiful, fractal, colours was all there was, filling her mind.

“All you have to do is watch the spiral, not worrying about anything, relaxing, letting everything go. Each time it circles you go deeper. Each time it circles another thought is left behind.”

Ashley sat there, the spiral in her mind, the feel of it on the back of her hand. She didn’t need any other thoughts.

It was so easy to let them go.

“Falling deeper and deeper into trance. My voice guiding you so gently down as you watch the spiral. So good to watch the spiral, your body recognising how wonderful it is.”

It was so good to watch the spiral. Like the slippery warmth between her legs was good.

What? I…

The spiral spun again, another thought vanishing.

“Letting your thoughts go. Letting your memories go. There is nothing to think. Nothing to remember. Just watch the spiral and listen to my voice, going deeper and deeper.”

Something dissolved from her mind with each rotation of the spiral.

“You want to find the centre of the spiral. You need to find it. The centre. Where there is nothing.”

She had to do that. She needed to. She no longer asked why. Her mind’s eye tracked the circling shape, falling into its centre.

Where there was nothing.

Where she was nothing.

“You are so deeply hypnotised. Each time the spiral circles, each time you fall deeper into its centre, you become more deeply hypnotised.”

She did. There was a sensation of sinking, into something warm and soft. Like the warmth between her legs. In her breasts.

“So deep now. Watching the spiral. No thoughts. No memories. Listening to my voice.”

The girl with her eyes closed simply watched the spiral in her mind and listened. She barely registered the heat between her legs, the tight ache in her breasts.

She didn’t ask why she didn’t open her eyes.

“My voice guides you. My voice tells you the truth.”

The voice, that gentle, soft but so insistent voice, was so easy to listen to. The voice flowed over her, feminine, reassuring, irresistible. The girl watching the spiral knew nothing else, had no other thoughts, so she believed the voice. It was so easy to listen to that voice.

“Hypnotised girls are obedient.”

The girl watching the spiral believed the voice.

“You are a hypnotised girl. You are obedient.”

The girl’s mind was empty, yearning for something to fill it, the words falling into that waiting void, filling it. Defining it.

“Hypnotised girls are obedient. Repeat that to me as you watch the spiral and believe it, so deep in trance.”

“Hypnotised girls are obedient,” the girl watching the spiral heard herself say. She didn’t question the logic of it. Logic was beyond her. It was simply the truth. For now, the only truth she knew.

The voice gave her another truth. “Obedience is rewarded.”

That made sense. Not that the girl watching the spiral was capable of anything approaching reasoning.

“Let that thought sink into your mind. ‘Obedience is rewarded’. Repeat it to me as you watch the spiral. Accept it. Believe it.”

“Obedience is rewarded.” The girl watching the spiral knew two things now. Two lights in the darkness of her mind.

The voice gave her a third truth. “The reward is pleasure.”

The girl watching the spiral gasped as sensations lit up her body, lips wrapping around her clit and both her nipples, as tongues flicked and teased. Pleasure of a kind she’d never experienced spiralling through her body as the spiral spun in her mind. Lips and tongues skilled in their work. Devoted.

Trained.

Somehow, the thought so faint and distant but still she knew, those lips were female. There was a faint memory, of naked women, blank-eyed, obedient, obeying as they licked and sucked and showed her things about her body that she’d never known.

The memory vanished in the spiral.

She was naked. Somehow she knew that too. She was naked and tied to some sort of chair and…

“Pleasure deepens your hypnosis.”

There were four lights in her mind now, four truths. Linked up. Forming a border around her mind, harnessing it. Hypnosis to obedience to reward to pleasure and back to hypnosis. Over and over. Like a cycle.

Like a spiral.

“Watching the spiral. Letting it draw you so deep. Letting go of your thoughts.”

The girl in the chair, who had almost remembered a name, relaxed. Then her back arched as those mouths renewed their assault, the pleasure arcing through her.

Deepening her hypnosis.

She no longer realised that she was naked, even as she still felt those lips, those tongues. On her soft flesh, drowning in the pleasure as the spiral spun around and around.

“The reward is pleasure,” the voice repeated. “The pleasure you are feeling now. The pleasure that comes from obedience. The pleasure that deepens your hypnosis. The pleasure you crave.”

She did. It didn’t matter that it was women doing it to her. She needed this. Craved it, just as the voice said. She was squirming in her bonds, moaning, a hot, needy, mess. She would do anything for the pleasure. It was warm and sweet and there was a slickness between the girl’s legs and she was vanishing in the sensations. There was nothing like this, the bliss of obedience. Had she been told that? Some other time? Had this happened before?

The spiral kept spinning, the thoughts slipping away. There were no thoughts. Thoughts were unimportant. There was only pleasure.

And obedience.

“Hypnotised girls are obedient.”

She was. She was hypnotised and obedient and teeth were grazing one of her nipples and she was deep in something warm and soft and she’d believe anything the voice said if it felt this good.

“Obedience is rewarded.”

Her mind was gone, her body simply reacting, blown along like a feather.

“The reward is pleasure.”

She was hanging on edge, suspended, held up by only those lips, mouths that knew how to take her so far and no further, held so exquisitely, agonisingly, on the edge.

“Pleasure deepens your hypnosis.”

The sensations ceased, their lack a horrible void. Dimly, the girl could feel her bonds being released.

She didn’t move. She hadn’t been told to.

“Stand up,” the voice ordered.

She did.

“You have obeyed.”

She had. The girl’s knees almost gave out as the pleasure exploded over her body. She could feel those lips again, on her most private places, a tongue drawn so slowly along her lower lips. Even if somehow she knew that they were just ghosts now, it was just as good.

“So good,” the voice sounded pleased. “My pretty, hypnotised, obedient girl. Tell me your truths.”

“Hypnotise girls are obedient,” the girl recited. A phantom tongue swirled around her clit, pleasure flooding her. She had obeyed.

“Obedience is rewarded,” she continued, lips at her nipples answering that tongue.

“Obedience is p-p-pleasure.” It was so hard, the sensations overwhelming her. She was so close to cumming. But she wouldn’t cum. She had to obey.

Obedience was pleasure.

“Pleasure deepens m-my hypnosis.” Her mind fell deeper into the void. Away from thought. Away from anything but obedience.

“Good girl,” the voice declared, more bliss singing through the girl. “But I think we’ll need a few more sessions yet. You need to learn how to obey and feel pleasure without it distracting you. A few more session will let me teach you that. To let me properly harness your sweet little mind. Before that final trance that I might never awake you from. You’re so close now. What’s your name, dear?”

The girl reached for something. It was almost there, a word, in her mind. Did it start with ‘A’?

The word slipped out of reach, vanished.

“I, I don’t know,” the girl answered. An ache pulled at her stomach. She’d failed to obey.

“That’s alright dear. Slaves don’t have names.”

The ache vanished.

“Slaves have designations. Your designation is lucy. You are a slave. Open your eyes.”

The slave designated lucy knew that even that small act of obedience would be rewarded as all the others. The spiral still in her mind, the slave opened her eyes.

And saw Mistress.

The slave came.

Ashley’s eyes shot open, her body frozen as she lay in her bed. She’d wanted to stop dreaming about that hallway, but not like this. She wasn’t a slave. Didn’t want to be one. Didn’t want phantom lips nibbling at her.

Didn’t want to admit that arousal was boiling through her, and her finger was frozen tracing the line of her opening and her centre was so needy and wet and Oh God she was going to have to change the sheets without her sister knowing and…

Maybe Lauren was right. Maybe the stress was getting to her. That had to be all this was. She wasn’t into that kinky stuff. Or, at least, she never had been. And certainly not with a woman. She’d never even tried that ‘exploration’ phase that some of her friends in college had raved about. It wasn’t her. Still wasn’t.

But her body was on edge, a wire suspended over an abyss, hot and soft and ready to melt. Embarrassed, Ashley realised that her finger was still slowly tracing her opening. Its pace matched the spinning of the spiral from her dream. Back and forth, her breath catching as the pleasure cascaded through her.

God, no.

She wanted to stop, but she knew that was pointless, her body yearning for release, crying out for it. Trying to blot out the dream memory of those soft lips, feminine tongues and delicate fingers, she made herself think of her last boyfriend. How he felt inside her, filling her up. He’d been a jerk, but he’d been good in bed, satisfying her. She made herself remember that now, how he’d touch her just so, in all the right places, the muscles of her legs tightening, ankles flexing, back arching as her fingers glided over her lips, circled her clit. Her nipples tight, other hand caressing her breast, she was so close, in her memory she was so full, her thumb pressing on her clit as she came, her body vibrating.

It was good, better than most crests she managed to give herself.

It wasn’t as good as the one in her dream.

The one she’d had from simply obeying.

Ashley refused to think about that.

“How did your company manage to get you into a therapist so fast?” Samantha asked her at breakfast the next morning.

“It’s not a therapist,” Ashley muttered into her coffee.

Samantha rolled her eyes. Her pretty, blue, eyes. Just like Ashley’s. Just like lucy’s. “Counsellor, therapist. Po-tat-o, Po-tat-toe. Either way you can wait months to see someone in this city. Your company must have damn good medical.”

Ashley just shrugged, still gripping her coffee. Like Lauren had said, she’d never claimed anything on her policy, so she really didn’t know.

“Whatever,” Samantha continued as she headed for the door. “Have fun. But if they tell you this is because of some childhood trauma brought on by a sibling, I don’t want to know.”

As she sat in the waiting room a few hours later, Ashley considered her sister’s question. It had only been a few days since Lauren had brought up the idea of seeing someone. Her boss had been relentless, coming back the very next day with an appointment. So like Lauren, the woman frighteningly efficient. Even so, Ashley had demurred, not seeing the point. She didn’t want to seem weak. Lauren had repeated her line about prevention being better than cure.

Ashley had given way in the end. She knew how pointless it was arguing with her boss, once Lauren was fixed on an idea.

Maybe she has a point, the blonde wondered, images from her dream of the previous night, disturbing as they were seductive, seeping up from her memory before she pushed them away.

“Miss Vaughan?”

“Yes?” Ashley replied. The practice’s receptionist was a pretty dark-haired brunette, her hair short, bangs that didn’t quite reach her shoulders framing a heart-shaped face set with innocent hazel eyes. A plaque on the counter declared her name to be Tania.

Ashley tried to stop herself thinking what the girl would look like if her eyes were blank.

“Ms. Taylor will see you now,” Tania announced, indicating a door.

Swallowing nervously, Ashley headed on in.

“Miss Vaughan?” the woman inside asked, rising from behind a functional desk, little beyond a computer, a phone and a note pad and pen occupying it. She looked to be in her early thirties, her shoulder length brunette hair loose. Her outfit was blandly professional, white blouse and dark grey slacks. “Or can I call you Ashley?”

“Ashley’s fine,” the blonde shrugged.

“Susan Taylor,” the woman continued after Ashley nodded. “You can call me Susan if you’d like.”

“Not Dr. Taylor?” Ashley asked uncertainly.

“Most counsellors don’t have doctorates,” the woman informed her. “But am I qualified,” she added with a reassuring smile, indicating a wall on which hung a number of framed diplomas. “Please, Ashley, have a seat.” Her hand waved at a chair in front of the desk. “Or the lounge, if you like,” her hand moving to indicate a green lounge along the wall opposite her desk. “Whichever would be more comfortable.”

Ashley chose the chair.

“Have you ever been to a counsellor before?” Susan asked, resuming her seat.

“No,” Ashley replied firmly, shaking her head. If it had been up to her, she wouldn’t be seeing one now.

“Hmm,” Susan muttered. “As I understand it, you’re here in New York on assignment from your company in California.”

Ashley just nodded.

“They didn’t tell me much, just general concern. I wouldn’t have wanted them to. Any conclusions are just between us. So, Ashley, why do you think you’re here?”

“Because my boss wanted me to be,” Ashley blurted, then stopped herself, regretting her forthrightness.

Susan just smiled, regarding her with friendly eyes. Ashley wondered why the woman wasn’t making any notes on that pad. “If I may ask, do you know anyone in New York?”

“I’m staying with my sister,” Ashley replied.

“Are you close?” The question was delivered in a neutral tone, Ashley unable to find any hint of judgement.

“Yes. Yes, we are. I could have stayed in a hotel, but I’d rather stay with Samantha.”

“Anyone else?”

Ashley shook her head. “No. Well, one or two from college. I think. Haven’t had time to look them up.” She’d briefly checked the social media pages of some old friends but that was it.

“What you’re doing for work.” Susan paused, opening a folder Ashley hadn’t noticed. “Ah, software installation for a client? That taking up most of your time?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” Ashley didn’t want to admit it. Maybe she had been working too hard.

“How many hours a day are you spending on the job? Please be honest, Ashley. I’m not here to judge. And I won’t be reporting your answers to your employer. Everything stays between the two of us.”

“Um,” Ashley hesitated. She could lie. But what was the point? “Ah, maybe, uh, twelve?” She hadn’t worried about it before but admitting it to a stranger it didn’t sound so good.

“And weekends?”

“About the same,” Ashley muttered. She really had let that sneak up on her.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“It’s what it needs,” Ashley shrugged. “The sooner I get the work done, the sooner it’s done.” She hadn’t thought about how much time she’d been putting into her work.

She’d just obeyed.

Ashley didn’t want to think about why her breath caught or why the room suddenly seemed warmer. It wasn’t like that. She wasn’t obeying. No-one had told her to work that many hours. She was just doing her job. It was those stupid dreams. And the way she felt tired and…

Maybe she did need to be here.

And it was nice talking to someone about it. About how sometimes she’d had to stop herself snapping at the customer. Or even her sister. About how lonely she felt.

Susan was easy to talk to.

“Thank you, Ashley,” Susan said, with something of an air of finality. Ashley noticed that the hour wasn’t anywhere near up, just over half the time gone. “I don’t think there’s anything serious, simply normal work pressures. If you can take a little time off, I would advise it. I think you are feeling the stress, though.”

Ashley had to admit that was true. Time off wasn’t something she thought she could manage. “I don’t know,” she offered. “Maybe.”

“Hmm. I understand. But think about it. I’d like to give you a relaxation exercise. Something you can do to stop the pressure getting too much. Would you be interested in that?”

“Sure,” Ashley shrugged. It couldn’t hurt to listen. Didn’t mean she would actually use it but what the hell.

“Good,” Susan smiled. “Please close your eyes.”

If you tell me to picture a spiral, I might just change my mind, Ashley thought wryly.

Susan didn’t mention anything like that. “Concentrate on your breathing. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Slower. Just concentrating on your breath. There, like that.”

Ashley did as she was told. And if her breath slowed to a rhythm that matched the spinning of the spiral from her dreams, she didn’t want to think about that.

“Now, keeping your breath at that slow pace, in through your nose and out through your mouth, make a fist, squeezing your hand tightly. Not so that it’s painful, but so you can feel the tension.”

Ashley’s fingernails dug into her palms. There was a little pain, but not too much. She could feel the tension in her fingers.

“Hold it, just for a few seconds, as your breath stays at that slow, even pace.”

Susan’s voice had slowed, or was it softer? Maybe both. Ashley wasn’t sure. She was concentrating on her breathing, the tension in her hand.

“Slowly open your fingers. Slowly. As you keep breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Feel the difference. Feel the tension flowing out of you, flowing out through your hand, your fingers, leaving you.”

Ashley’s eyes were fixed on her fingers, her digits straight now.

“Does that feel better?” Susan asked.

Ashley’s fingers felt lighter. Freer. So did she. “Yes,” she replied in surprise. “Yeah, it does.”

“Good,” Susan smiled warmly. “Would you like to do it again? Just to be sure you’ve got it.”

“Sure,” Ashley repeated. She didn’t think she needed the practice, but it had felt nice.

“Slowly breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Slowly. When you are ready, make that fist, squeezing tightly. Then opening the fist, relaxing as the tension flows away. Letting all your worries and cares flow away. Simply relaxing. Everything flowing out.”

Ashley did as she was told, a tension she hadn’t realised seeping out of her shoulders.

“Again?” Susan suggested.

Ashley just nodded. The woman’s voice was easy to listen to.

“Slowly breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Just listening to my voice. As it takes you deeper. Making that fist, squeezing tightly, not thinking of anything else. Opening the fist, relaxing as the tension flows away. Letting all your worries and cares and thoughts flow away. Simply relaxing. Everything flowing out.”

Something about what Susan was saying almost made Ashley frown. But she couldn’t place it. It didn’t matter. She was so relaxed.

She felt like she was floating as she exited Susan’s office. The counsellor had suggested another appointment, in a few days. Ashley had thought about saying no. If that exercise she’d been given kept working she didn’t see why she’d need another appointment. But maybe it wouldn’t. And work was paying for it, so why not come back?

She stopped at the counter, made the booking with Tania. Flexed her hand as she did, her breathing slow. She was sure that Tania glanced at her hand, but the girl didn’t say a word.

Inside her office, Susan picked up her phone and dialled a number. It was something she had to do.

“Report.” The voice on the other end of the line was female. But it was flat, emotionless. So empty. Susan had expected that. The sound set off a spark, deep in her centre.

“She’s just left.” She shouldn’t be talking about one of her patients to someone else. Shouldn’t be sharing anything. It was a betrayal. That word was like electricity, shooting through her body, turning that spark into a flame. “There were no problems.”

“Was an initial induction attempted?” That voice on the other end of the call asked. That voice belonged to a slave.

A slave like her.

Not like me. Susan thought. She doesn’t get to betray her patients. The counsellor almost gasped, her pussy juicing as bliss flooded her. She rolled the word in her mind. Betrayal. Betraying her patients was the most delicious kind of ecstasy. Hot and sweet and wicked. So much better for how wrong it was. Dark bliss flowed through her, tightening her nipples and moistening her pussy. Making her clit cry out, her thighs aching in need.

Goddess had taught all her that. How exquisitely erotic it was to deliver up her beautiful female patients, strip their defences, ready for Goddess to complete the process of enslaving them. How the orgasms when she did were like nothing else. Goddess knew best. Goddess was beautiful. And wise. And oh Goddess, Susan wanted her so much. But she didn’t get to decide things like that. Goddess did.

“Yes,” the therapist managed to reply after a few moments. “Only a level one induction, but she went under very easily. I took her through the initial induction a few times. I don’t think I’ll have any problems with her next time. I anticipate that only a minimum number of sessions will be required before acquisition can be completed.”

“Satisfactory,” the voice replied after a moment to evaluate the information. “Has a subsequent contact been arranged?”

Susan paused before responding. She didn’t know who the other slave was. That didn’t matter. Whoever it was, she was a slave of Goddess. But maybe, just maybe, it was one of the women Susan had offered up, betrayed, her centre clenching at the thought, the woman nothing more now than a link in Goddess’ chain of control. Goddess acquired many slaves, from many sources, but this might be one of the women Susan had gifted her.

“Yes.” Susan’s pussy was juicing so hard. At the thought of what she’d done to those women. At what she’d be doing to the beautiful blonde in just a few days. Ashley had seemed so vulnerable. So ready. “I suggested to her that she book another appointment. She was also instructed to do so under trance and to forget the instruction. She was inclined to anyway, so there was no resistance to accepting the suggestion. She should have booked it on the way out.”

“Satisfactory,” the voice declared. “Evaluation?”

Susan smiled, her breath easing between her lips. “She’s just as pretty as her pictures made her out to be. More so, to be honest.” She remembered the girl sitting there, her eyes misting over. She’d been so beautiful. She could just imagine what the girl would look like, naked and blank. But Ashley wasn’t for her. She needed to continue her report. “Not much in the way of social connections, just the sister. Stress from work is definitely affecting her. Arranging a resignation and disappearance should be straightforward. She’ll make an excellent slave.”

“Satisfactory,” that flat voice declared. “The slave may cum.”

Susan shuddered, a moan escaping her lips.

“This slave came,” Susan reported, delicious aftershocks still rippling through her. She could feel her juices leaking from her pussy, soaking into her panties. “Thank Goddess.”

She wasn’t speaking to Goddess, but another of Goddess’ slaves. It didn’t matter. It was Goddess she obeyed.

Goddess who owned her

Goddess who had her start her pretty patients on the path to being slaves.

Just like her.

Susan could feel another orgasm approaching.

“Send confirmation of the time of the second appointment,” the voice instructed before pausing. “The slave is permitted to play with its toy.”

Susan couldn’t help smiling in anticipation at that. It wasn’t something she was always allowed. A reward, kept dangling before her, for when she obeyed particularly well.

“I will confirm the subject’s appointment with Tania.” So much easier to call the girl ‘the subject’ then use her name. It reduced her, depersonalised her. But then, slaves weren’t people. They were possessions. Like she was. “I will play with my toy. Thank Goddess.”

“Thank Goddess,” the empty voice replied before ending the call.

Susan eyes remained fixed on the phone, handpiece still held to her ear. basking in the pleasant afterglow of her crest. With her free hand, she pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her face. Then she pushed a button her phone.

“Yes, Ms. Taylor?” Tania answered.

“Did Miss Vaughan book another appointment?” The girl did have a name. Would Goddess let her keep it? Or give her another one? Whichever it was, it would be Goddess’ choice.

“Yes, Ms. Taylor.” Susan’s receptionist replied. “For next Friday.”

“Good,” Susan smiled. Everything was unfolding as her Goddess had decreed. Susan had been a good slave. Good slaves were rewarded.

“Is my next appointment here yet, Tania?” she asked.

“No, Ms Taylor,” Tania replied professionally. “Your next appointment is in half an hour. I can let you know when she arrives.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Susan’s smile widened. “Could you come in here for a moment, please. I need your attention.”

Susan could just picture the affect those words, that slight intonation, would be having on her receptionist. The girl’s eyes would be widening, dulling, as all expression dropped away, leaving something blank in its place.

“Yes, Ms. Taylor.” The receptionist’s voice was empty now. As empty as the voice on the phone had been. “The toy is ready.”

Susan’s eyes were fixed on the door, anticipation humming through her body. Tania, her toy, would be entering her office soon. Stripping off her clothes. Dropping between Susan’s legs. Tongue diving into her pussy. The only sexual contact with another person either woman was allowed.

Goddess’ gift.

Goddess was so kind.

(To be continued)