Control Chips


by xangoh

Tags: #brainwashing #D/s #Master/slave_language #microfiction

“Sign here… and here… and initial here…”
Maddie had to concentrate very hard to keep the name she was signing straight in her head. It was hard to think of any name but Mistress when you were in Her presence, and it wouldn't do to start writing that. She was in a light trance, and her face stayed placid despite the effort. The signature was mostly muscle memory anyhow, and that was trustworthy even if her silly brain wasn't.
It was remembering her initials that was really hard. She hesitated the first time she had to, feeling a kind of flop sweat trying to emerge beneath her calm, then Mistress tapped something on the desk and the answer shook loose.
Mistress patted her hand when the signing was done, and Maddie subsided into the autopilot of Her more routine control. She’d been tense, just before. She was so much better suited to being a bit of fluff at Mistress’s side than a pretend free girl.
The man, whose name and purpose she had already forgotten, had an envelope to give her, and a key. It was a little strange receiving them. He made sort of a flourish out of it, presenting her the key like it was some ceremonial occasion. She wondered idly if he expected a blowjob for whatever his service had been. But she could tell she didn’t have instructions to offer him one.
The envelope she handed off immediately to Mistress, who stowed it in her bag. The key remained curled up in her hand till they were back in the car. She opened her fist then and put it palm up and stared down, thinking how weird the thing looked there. How out of place. She was a slave. She knew what it was to be locked and unlocked but she wasn’t sure she could even work a key anymore.
For the rest of the trip she held the hunk of metal in her mouth. Mistress’s key pouch. The taste of it was the taste of being owned.

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