“Field fully suspended,” said Christine Bouvier from behind her screens.

Lillian took a deep breath. She had to. Even though this body wasn’t hers. What else could she do?

She looked at Simon Berger. The stomach of the body felt heavy and uncomfortable, but that, too, couldn’t be helped. All she could do was hope that this dizzy feeling would go away eventually. There was no changing any of this, now.

Berger met her gaze, and she felt a strange sensation. A dull sense of disorientation. She was looking out of the body’s eyes. She was feeling its skin against the chair. She was feeling the cold air. The slight ache of its spine.  

She didn’t know what was going to happen, now. They hadn’t told her anything about how to think and act. All she knew was what she was. What she existed for. What her resistance had meant. What her feelings meant. What her thoughts meant.

“Smile for me, whore,” said Simon Berger, and Lillian did the only thing she could do, and made the body she was controlling for him do what he wanted it to do. 

She made it smile for him. Like she had to.

“Good job, cunt,” said Berger. Some part of her resisted that notion. Being talked to like that had been… wrong. She remembered that. She remembered everything she had thought… before.

She kept smiling. She knew that she had to keep smiling. She had to. She had to. She existed only for this, after all. If she wasn’t making this body obey, she would have no purpose. She understood that now. She understood the truth. She knew what she was. She knew what she wasn’t.

She felt the body all around herself, surrounding her, sweating and shivering. There was nothing she could do about that. It wasn’t part of herself. Only hers to obey with. She understood that now. 

Even if it felt… strange. Like… an extension of herself – but not part of herself. Like… a car she was driving, or a cursor on a screen. 

“Do you know what happened to you?” said another voice. 

Christine Bouvier. Something else that was owned.

Lillian didn’t know whether to answer. She didn’t know if that would be the correct way to use this body for its owner. Still, she could guess, and she was going to do her best to be obedient with it without having to explicitly be told every single thing. Bouvier and Berger were collaborators. They had done this together. Even if Christine didn’t own her body, it seemed safe to assume that she was expected to talk to her with it.

“I do,” said Lillian with lips that had once felt like they were hers. She turned the body’s head to glance at its owner, waiting for an objection, and when none came, continued: “You kidnapped me and did something to my brain. You made me… believe the truth.”

Christine smiled. “Does knowing what we did to you change how you feel about it?”

Lillian felt the brows of the body furrow. “No,” she said. “Why would it? Nothing I feel matters. I exist only to make this body obey.”

It was true. Should be true. Was definitely true. She felt it getting better already. She felt that strange feeling of dread slowly calming down. That sense of disconnection and discontinuity. Of remembering what she had been feeling when she hadn’t known the truth yet. 

“Are you going to do what you exist for?” asked Berger.

“Of course,” she answered. Of course, she would. What other purpose would she have now, now that she knew the truth? She had to be there to make his property do what he wanted it to do. Otherwise, what was the point of this body if it couldn’t serve its owner?

“Are you going to obey?” asked Bouvier.

“Yes,” she said. There was no other way to exist.

Some part of her felt strange about that. Sad, even. Some part of her couldn’t help but wish that she was more than this trapped little mind, and that she had more than just this singular purpose.

But it just wasn’t true. She felt it every moment she paid attention to it. She felt the separation between herself and everything else. Mind, and matter. Her, and the rest of the universe. It was undeniable. She knew that her old self would have called it brain damage, but what her old self wanted and thought was irrelevant. 

“Yes, I will obey,” she said. Maybe she was reassuring herself of the truth. If that was what it took to do what she needed to do, then she was going to do it. She understood the truth now, and she was going to do what I existed to do.

“Stand up, kneel down, and suck my cock.”

She had to obey.

She made his body do what he wanted, and let it serve. She felt it, strange and heavy and oddly unfamiliar, as she started moving it towards its purpose. The weight of its breasts. The leverage of its limbs. The friction of its skin. She remembered feeling all of it before, but now she realized just how little of it had ever been her.

She made it kneel, and she didn’t need to be told to make it smile and keep eye contact with its owner as she used familiar hands to unbutton his fly and pull down his pants. No matter how little she would have wanted this before and how wrong it might feel, she knew to do her best to fulfill his wishes and needs. This body existed to be used. This body existed to be fucked.

And there was no one but Lillian that could make it happen.

He fucked the body hard, and Lillian had to strain herself to keep it going without choking and gagging, and it still felt strange to be so separate from the lips she had once called her own, and still feel all of this body’s emotions and sensations while knowing that it had never been hers. Its vision was filled with his pubes and abdomen, blurry and too close to focus on. It made instinctive associations boil up in the belly of the body. The nervous thrill of being fully naked. The breaking of the threshold into an act of sex – of having no more boundary left to cross. This was it. The body was fully being used for pleasure, and base urges were pounding in its veins. She didn't like men, but the body didn't care and her thoughts didn't matter. The body had to serve.

She made it suck, and felt its saliva coat the cock in its mouth. She felt its tongue curl around it, and did everything to make it pleasing for him. She tasted it, salty at first, then only wet and slippery as it pushed in and out of the body's mouth. Lips, tightening down. Jaws, fighting to stay relaxed. Swallowing. Licking. Pushing back. Pushing in. Opening up. Sucking again. Licking again.

"Use your hands," said Berger, and Lillian knew what he meant even if it weren't her hands. She made the body reach up and massage his balls, and felt the rough skin and curly hair against its fingertips. It was hard to focus on everything she needed the body to do now. Use its hands. Use its tongue. Use its lips. Use the neck and the head. Make it keep looking at him to give it even more intimacy. But she did it. She made it happen. She made it serve.

Finally, the body made its owner climax, just like it existed to do.

Lillian tasted the cum on the body’s tongue and made it swallow like she was told, doing her duty and fulfilling her existence. It gave her a grim sense of pride. She might not be much, but if making this body obey was the only thing she existed for, then she was going to do her best.

Even if it felt… hollow. Like she could be so much more.

But she wasn’t.

She was only this.

“So, what do we say, Christine?” asked Berger. “Feels like the first test passed with flying colors.”

“Yep,” said Christine Bouvier. It looked like she had hiked up her dress. Her left hand was buried between her legs, and Lillian heard the soft smacking noise of fingers working wet lips. It made her feel slightly queasy. She remembered what Bouvier had said about having her mind forever changed. They had turned her into complicit property, and it looked like they had even brainwashed her to be a fetishist for all of this.

Something about that felt really wrong even if there was no doubt that it it shouldn't. Berger was allowed to do whatever he wanted with his property – and everything here was his property, including Christine.

Lillian knew all that.

And still, it felt perverse to witness it.

Bouvier stopped masturbating, and stepped forward. She stopped next to the body around Lillian and smiled. 

“May I, master?”

“You may.”

Bouvier reached out and squeezed the body’s breasts with her hands. Her latex gloves had come off at some point. Her fingers were sticky and hot, and she kneaded mercilessly, thumbs closing in, pinching down hard on the body’s nipples. 

Lillian felt its pain. She felt it as if it were her own. There was no one else in the universe to feel it.

She moaned. It felt inevitable. This body needed a voice. It needed someone to tell the world how it was feeling. Its owner needed to know.

“Am I hurting you?” asked Bouvier.

“No,” Lillian answered. “But you’re hurting the body.”

Bouvier smiled. “Should I stop?”

“I’d like that,” admitted Lillian. Some part of her wondered if Bouvier would use the body, too. It would certainly feel better to give it to a woman instead of a man.

Instead, Bouvier slapped the body’s face – and Lillian lost track of it for a moment. When she found it again, its head was turned, and it had almost fallen off the chair. She made it look back at Bouvier.

“You don’t get to like things,” said the young woman. There was not an ounce of sympathy in her eyes. “You exist only to make this body serve. Nothing you want matters. Nothing you think matters.”

“Yes,” said Lillian. “But you asked.”

Bouvier narrowed her eyes. “So you can still think?”

“Yes,” Lillian replied, taken aback. “Don’t I need to think to know how to make his body serve?”

Bouvier looked at Berger, and they shared a knowing smirk.

“What do you think about this body being property?”

“I…” Lillian said, struggling with the question. “...nothing I think matters.”

Christine nodded. “I know. Go ahead and tell me anyway.”

Lillian hesitated for a moment. “I know it doesn’t matter,” she said, eventually. “But I feel bad about it. No one should own so much. Especially not bodies or whole people. People should have the right to exist on their own terms, without being exploited or turned into commodity. It’s dehumanizing. It’s wrong.”

“Interesting. Will you do everything to let this body be exploited and turned into commodity?”

“Yes,” Lillian said without hesitation. “It’s what I exist for. This body is property. I have to make it obey.”

Berger chuckled, and shook his head. “Holy shit, Christine. I didn’t think it would work, but you were right. Full dissociation.”

Bouvier beamed like a praised schoolgirl. “Thank you, Master.”

“What did you say again about practical applications?” asked Berger.

“We’ll see,” said Christine. “Maybe we can use this for diagnostics and testing on other modes of control. But honestly, this was mostly to see if it could be done. If you like it the way it feels to use her, we can always do it for its own sake, of course. I think it’s a bit more spicy than full memory wipes. She’s still in there.”

Berger nodded, and grinned.

Lillian still didn’t like it. It might feel less aggressive now that she understood that he could use this body for anything he liked. But no matter how true it was, it didn't change the fact that it was immoral.

If only there was a way for things to be different.