The first new movie to download was Don’t Ask, Just Tell, which starred Jasmine as a crack Marine sniper, part of a team sent in to take out a foreign dictator.
Separated from her team, she takes up position on a rooftop, settling down. A burst of static on the radio, then, “White Lion, you are clear. Eyes in the sky are watching but nobody’s home.”
“Acknowledged, Kim,” the reply comes back. “Watch your back.”
She laughs. “There’s no one anywhere near,” she says. “Get moving.”
Jasmine – Kim – puts down the radio and starts to turn back to her rifle. She’s brought up short by an exquisite red gem suspended from a golden chain that hangs between her eyes and the scope, swinging gently in a slim hand.
The camera pulls in close. Kim’s lips part slightly. Lisa’s breath catches. Time seems to stand still.
After an eternal, silent moment, Lisa notices Kim’s eyes starting to glaze. This woman’s almost wasted in porn, she thinks. That looks totally real...
A delicious voice speaks in some other language; it sounds beautiful, but Lisa doesn’t understand it. And, it seems, nor does Kim; after a few seconds the voice speaks again. “Sleep.”
Kim’s eyes flip shut simultaneous with the screen going black, and without knowing it was coming, Lisa explodes into orgasm.
- OK. Fuck. Get it together, Lisa, get it together.
Fuuuuuuck. That was...
Oh, that was good. But it doesn’t mean anything; well, OK, it means something, but all it means is you like hypnosis. You knew that. And Jasmine... oh, she’s good, very good. But that doesn’t mean anything more. It’s embarrassing, not the end of the world.
Oh, but the feeling when the screen went black and everything went sweet... That was wonderful, truly wonderful. Scary – her heart was still beating far too fast, long after she should’ve calmed down – but wonderful. Lisa bit her lip. Time to watch that scene again before bed?
So refreshed the next morning... Lisa woke warm and comfortable in her bed, face down with one hand clamped between her legs. Her knees complained mildly – but she was in bed. So she must have got there, and any idea that she’d spaced out again watching the movie therefore had to be wrong. By the smell, too, the reek of sweat, musk, and cum, she’d been there for quite some time before she slept – taking out her pent-up desires and burning out that nervous energy.
So that was a relief. Still, she couldn’t remember the rest of the movie... in two viewings, she’d yet to remember past the first ten minutes. Best to pretend that didn’t matter, at least to herself.
Rolling out of bed, she blinked. Her knees were on the floor, feet tucked under her ass, thighs parted, putting her body on display. This wasn’t a typical position for her – in fact, it was downright tricky to end up in – but somehow, positioned that way... it felt like deja vu. Perhaps it shouldn’t.
She dived into the shower – she needed it – and busied herself for the working day.
In the office, she found herself spacing out quite often. Not that this was particularly new – anyone whose job consists mostly of waiting for the phone to ring does it all the time – but she found her eyes wandering over the rest of the office, almost seeing crosshairs on her colleagues’ necks. And every time she did so, her right index finger curled, clicking the mouse reflexively. It took a little while before she even noticed this behaviour, but it was definitely there by lunchtime.
She spent most of her lunch hour idly browsing jewellers and pawnshops, vaguely thinking about picking up something pretty. She seemed to have that ‘retail therapy’ itch in her, somewhere at the back of the hindbrain. In the end, though, she decided against buying anything.
She decided she should probably stop by the bar, see if Sean was there, and have a drink before she headed home.
Another night, another bid to get through the film. Lisa resisted the urge to rewatch the moment where Kim and the screen blacked out, and the movie continued.
In the darkness, there was a whisper. “Soon, it will be time to awaken, and to obey. There will be no need, then, to question... but now, tell me your name.”
“Kim Levine,” came Jasmine’s soft voice.
“Well done, my dear. A kiss will wake you soon... and while Kim would question what she hears, I will give you a name that will not, isn’t that right?”
The screen faded back into light to reveal Kim’s lips open and yielding to her captor’s kiss. Her eyes, already glazed and empty, opened as the kiss took place.
The dusky woman with the gemstone purred in Kim’s ear. “I shall call you Kimba,” she says. “My white pussycat. My lioness.”
Kimba said nothing in response. Kimba did not move; did not even blink (oh so hot, thought Lisa, and how does she do that? How does she make it look so real?). Kimba waited.
“You are my lioness,” she said. “You are my pussycat. You are part of my pride.”
Again, Kimba waited.
“You must protect our old lion, Kimba,” she purred. “Do you see the jackals?” She pointed forward. The camera cut to show other members of Kim’s team, getting ready to enter the main palace.
Kimba moaned agreement, half-blissful, half-agonised.
“Stop the jackals, Kimba,” the dusky woman said, and took the gemstone from before Kimba’s eyes.
The lioness stooped her head to the rifle scope and began to do her work. Close-ups showed the rounds to be tranquiliser darts. But Kimba’s expression said she would have fired regardless.
Lisa found herself admiring Kimba, the peaceful, placid acceptance of her situation. As the last ‘jackal’ fell, her dusky captor started to scratch behind Kimba’s ear, and the lioness’ eyes closed. Kimba began to purr.
Her hand was pressed against her sternum, just above her cleavage, as she burst into the bathroom at the bar. Lisa rushed up to the mirror, wild-eyed, and took just a moment to check no one else was present before she took her hand away, revealing what lay beneath.
How had she not noticed?
Nestled around her neck was a golden chain; nothing unusual in this, certainly, but it wasn’t one Lisa recognised. Suspended by the chain, resting right at the tip of her cleavage, was a small, red gemstone.
When did she start wearing that? How could she have gone through the day not noticing its weight shift against her skin as she moved?
It wasn’t one she owned... where had she...?
Still staring at it, she saw it catch the light subtly differently, tilted by her breathing. For just a second, it was the same as the one that had turned Kim into Kimb-
Smiling, she sat down opposite Sean in the bar. “Sorry about that,” she purred, eyes sparkling. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“I, uh... I’d just decided you weren’t coming back,” he mumbled, looking uncomfortable. “I... was it something-”
“Oh, no, no, no...” She dimpled. “I’d just forgotten my ruby. It’s... well, this necklace belonged to my grandmother. It was this time of year that she fell ill, so the sudden reminder... kind of a shock to the system.”
He turned red. “Oh, God, I’m so-”
Lisa leaned forward, stopping his apology with a kiss.
Quite honestly, as she showered the following morning, she was a little... concerned... about her behaviour recently. Last night was the first time she’d ever brought a man home, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she saw in Sean. Her libido was just up, in general, and Sean was the lucky recipient.
Lucky? She thought about it, for a while. Sean, bless him, just hadn’t taken control in bed the way she’d hoped, dreamed of, (don’t say it) prayed for. He was very attractive – in a purely physical contest, she’d choose him over the hypnotist from Jasmine’s videos any day – but somehow, a spark she’d been sure was there was missing.
Maybe she just needed something... stronger? More intense, that was. It seemed likely, somehow. The kind of dedication Kimba had, the lust carefully bound up in Doll’s mind if not her unreacting body...
Was it the videos? Was she ruining her love life by comparing what she could have with the fantasy world of porn? More, the fantasy world of mind control porn, far removed from the realities of what the heart could deliver?
Maybe she was just being unfair. She’d have to try Sean’s luck again soon.
She smiled at that thought. Certainly he’d enjoyed himself... and she had, too, when she concentrated on it; it just didn’t feel like it when she just thought about it.
Now, just before she left the house...
“Soon, it will be time to awaken, and to obey. There will be no need, then, to question... but now, tell me your name.”
No bar tonight. She didn’t want to see Sean every day; she had the feeling, somehow, that it might get... well, addictive, really... if she gave herself to a man too freely right now.
Instead, she settled down with Kimba once again. What a lovely way to be, she thought...
Kimba padded into the palace on all fours, her face half-smiling, content, a cat with the cream. The dusky domme’s hand toyed idly with a strand of Kimba’s hair; she stopped ten or twelve paces into the room, and Kimba halted too, looking up curiously.
Her mistress knelt down, slowly, taking her head in both hands, and gently kissed her. Kimba’s eyes closed in pleasure; otherwise, however, her expression didn’t change, not until the kiss was broken long enough for her mistress to purr “Love me, pussycat.” When the kiss began again, Kimba’s response was delighted, devoted, docile...
Docile. A good word for it; Lisa felt a shiver through her body as she watched. That was how she wanted to... Ohh. The necklace. This bit always set her shivering with excitement.
Mistress named items of clothing, and Kimba shed them, still smiling contentedly up, until she rested, catlike on all fours, naked but for her dog tags hanging before her breasts. Time seems to stand still for Lisa as the camera travels up and down Kimba’s poised body, inspecting it in loving detail, before Mistress slipped the dog tags from her pussycat, prompting a soft, gentle sound, almost a mewl, from Kimba – and from Lisa.
She held up the beautiful red gemstone necklace, then, for Kimba to see, the lioness’ eyes fixating on it immediately, and slipped it onto her. Kimba’s identity had been replaced with an icon of submission; her left forepaw rose to touch it, fingertips caressing it, as on the other side of the screen Lisa mimicked her actions exactly. Both women sighed contentedly.
Lying in bed that night, Lisa pondered.
She would never have chosen to watch that film if it hadn’t been an early offering at the download table. Now, though, she envied Kimba more than Jenny. Something about the way she’d been taken... something wonderful about what she became. Both so docile, so pliable, so easy to toy with, so beautiful and succulent.
But something about Kimba’s ultimate fate... not just the fact that, unlike Jenny underlying Doll, any trace of Kim left didn’t fight back... but how she found herself at the very end... ahhh... sublime.
Kimba followed close behind her mistress, a pussycat padding behind her owner. Any trace of the lioness who had defended her pride was stripped from her body language, from her demeanour, just to echo the fact it had been stripped from her memories. The pussycat – the bodyslave of her mistress – was as weak and playful as a kitten. The trained, professional sniper... of her, there was no sign. Only the sergeant’s loyalty remained.
The pair paused just outside a stately set of double-doors, majestic in design. Mistress knelt, cradling Kimba’s head once again. The camera caught the glint of Kimba’s red submission reflected in her mistress’ eyes.
“Who am I, Kimba my love?” she asked.
“Mistress.” Kimba’s voice is soft, content, almost musical, and so quiet a viewer has to strain to pick it up. She speaks only seven times after the first appearance of the red gemstone. This is the fifth.
“And you worship me as a mistress... but not as a goddess.” She smiles slightly at the flicker of confusion in Kimba’s eyes. “Do not worry, Kimba my love. This is as it should be.
“I am not your goddess. I am the daughter of your god.” She watches enlightenment blossom in Kimba’s gaze; Kim had been told that within the palace is a dictator, mistress’ – the Princess’ – father.
“You may address him as Majesty,” she continues. “Is that understood?”
“Yes.” Kimba will now say only one more thing before the end of the film.
Mistress nods and opens the door. Kimba pads through, striding to the figure nestled in a pile of cushions near the centre.
She lies down, letting her forehead rest against the cold stone floor between her forepaws, breasts, too, firm against the cold marble.
“Majesty,” she says, and waits for guidance.
At lunch the next day, Lisa slipped out to the shops again. Let’s see...
She needed a few more outfits, she thought, for going to the bar, for seeing Sean – or, she vaguely thought, if he didn’t measure up, for seeing whoever replaced him – and all the rest. She had the cleavage sewn up now – that original blouse had a few sisters now, all lined up in her closet neatly, identical but for their colours.
But maybe... She browsed among the skirts and pants. Was she confident enough for a miniskirt? Sean hadn’t seemed to mind, but her thighs... perhaps a gym membership would be a good idea?
One or two of the other girls at work went to a gym in the mornings, before office hours. She could ask them after lunch.
(Girls? When had they become girls? Marie was forty-two. Surely they were women?)
For the moment, she concentrated on the pants. Perhaps her legs could use some work, but she was confident of her ass. So something to make sure people paid attention, with a loose leg... accentuate the positive, hide the negative.
Little by little, Lisa was more and more confident putting herself on display. Sean might well get a surprise tonight, she thought. A real woman, and no nerves...
(Nerves? She’d been nervous last time?)
Kimba’s body had sated her God. Now, as the credits rolled, it found itself in different position; the pussycat sat, forepaws straight, hindlegs spread apart, chest proudly on display, icon of submission glittering between her breasts, eyes empty, atop a pedestal. She did not even move; instead, she waited for her God to call upon her.
It was the purest picture of contentment that Lisa could imagine.
And, just before the camera cut away, it pulled out far enough to show another pedestal, waiting for someone like Kimba to occupy it.
Sunday, a little after lunchtime, and Lisa climbed onto the El to travel home again. Taking her seat, idly stroking her red gemstone, she had time now to think about the past couple of days.
Sean was out, sadly. The closer Lisa came to Jasmine’s mindset, the more on-edge Sean seemed. Maybe he was mistaking freely offered submission for codependence, commitment. Maybe it was something else. (Although she was pretty sure she’d yet to accidentally say ‘Master’). But, well, Thursday night had proved that it just didn’t work. She’d given him one last wonderful time Saturday – afternoon, evening, and night – but over lunch today, the two had broken it off.
She didn’t think he was complaining, just puzzled that what had started so promisingly had, in his words, ‘twisted’.
Which was a shame; in her eyes, nothing had twisted. She’d just started to reveal more of what she wanted, and it had thrown him.
So perhaps men would have to be on the back burner for a while. Or perhaps she just needed someone other than Sean, someone who could understand.
At least she still had Jasmine... And a new movie set to be available tonight... Perhaps, she thought, she’d just watch both of the ones she had before she downloaded the new one. Maybe with a glass or two of wine. Something to take her mind off losing a potential lover.
After all, there wouldn’t be time to watch all three after the download finished. She had to get to gym before the working day began tomorrow.
”You’re going to help me brainwash you.”
“I’m going to help you brainwash me.”
“Soon, it will be time to awaken, and to obey. There will be no need, then, to question... but now, tell me your name.”