Snuggle Ch. 03

Chapter 3 -- A Friend Indeed

Kendra's Tale Continues

When I awoke, I was no longer in bed ... I was huddled on the floor of a hallway, outside a plain door. There was no one else in the hall. No one in sight. No one anywhere. No one at all. Somewhere, somebody was screaming. As I watched, the hallway began to lengthen, pulling away from me in all directions, even in the narrow axis, so that the opposite wall was soon a mile away. So much room. So much space. And no one there. No one anywhere. I decided the screaming was not going to stop. My greatest fear from the operating room had been my inability to breathe; and now, it was happening again. The hand that I had raised tentatively toward the door knob in front of me was diverted to my throat, clutching at the knotted muscles in my neck, trying to get them to relax enough to allow a single breath. There was no one to help me. No one at all. And I knew ... for absolute certainty ... that I was about to die ... all alone.

Then the door opened, and the screaming got much louder. Hands were trying to coax me into standing, but that feat was patently impossible. I had doubled-over in my fear and despair, and my stomach muscles would not relax. He tried to lift me under my arms, then used my breasts as handholds and picked me up, half dragging me back to the bed, where Janie lay shrieking. By degrees, as I was able to relax, I held her closer ... and closer. She was shaking like a leaf.

Maintaining my proximity to her, I rolled slightly and looked back over my shoulder at Dr. Arnold. "Please, sir," I said plaintively. "Please ... don't do that again. I ... I'll be a good girl. But, please don't do that to her again. Don't make her suffer. I'll do whatever you want, I promise, but please don't hurt my friend!"

He cocked his head and looked down at me quizzically. "Kendra ... I don't think I've ever met a girl quite like you. You defy standard categorization." He smiled almost sadly. "Here is your breakfast. There are no drugs involved, I promise. I will leave you two for awhile. When I return, we will continue your hypnotic conditioning." And he turned, and was gone.

Janie's arms were around me now, and her violent shaking had calmed, somewhat. We had never been in this position before, of course, lying naked while facing each other, our breasts pressed against one another's. She took a ragged breath. "What ... what the hell just happened to me?" she stuttered.

I didn't move, but held her comfortingly. I felt her fingertips begin to explore my back. "I can tell you," I said softly. "I know."

She pulled away from me slightly until she could study my eyes. "You did something crazy-stupid, didn't you?"

I gave her a brief smile. "I don't know how long we have. We should talk ... we should eat."

She kept gazing into my eyes. Her fingertips were tracing light little circles down my spine toward the top of my butt. "Ken ... have you ever thought about the two of us ... like this?" And when I didn't answer right away, she added "... I have." I opened my mouth; then I closed it again. I didn't know what to say. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her right now. "No," she answered for me. "No, of course not. That's okay. Really. Thanks for being honest with me."

I grinned. "I didn't say a word."

"Oh yes you did." She sat up, then push-pulled me until we were able to sit on the bed's edge. It was a regular breakfast ... and regular portions. It tasted wonderful. Our daily pills were sitting beside our plates ... vitamin tablet, birth control pill, the supplements we always took, C, E, fish oil. As we began eating, I told her everything I could remember about the previous night (I assumed it had been night, and that this was morning, but there was, of course, no way to verify that). She stopped me frequently, asking pointed questions about very specific things that I often had to struggle to answer. To this point, she hadn't even noticed the small bandage stuck to the back of her head. She examined my story like she examined my bandage, with care for every detail, and eventually, I came to realize how much I relied on her. I didn't know what to do anymore; and so, like always, I was laying it all out for her and asking her to make the choices for me.

When all my words were said, when all the questions that could be asked had been answered, she looked at me compassionately, holding my hand. From the moment I had gotten in the bed, we had been touching. She took a breath. "When he hypnotizes you ... do you ... you know?"

"Do I cum? Yes. Unless chloroform is involved."

She nodded in thought. "He knew our psych profiles before we came. So, he was obviously looking for two submissive females ... and they were shocked because you loved me so much that you openly rebelled ... you knew I was too weak to ever do it myself." She thought some more and went on before I could comment. "We have to assume he wanted women who were sexually attractive ... young ... and I'm guessing intelligent, too. Our resumes don't make us sound like dummies, and we ARE grad students, after all. But WHY? Are we being conditioned to be Toddworth's whores? Most perverts get off on the ACT of breaking women ... but he's been nowhere to be seen. And ... why the hell haven't we been raped yet? It appears to be a plot hatched by men, so sex has GOT to be involved. But since they're conditioning us, then why aren't they conditioning us FOR sex? The orgasms I feel when he puts us under seem to be more as a reward." She glanced at me and I nodded agreement. Her face hardened. "Do you think we can take him?"

"You mean, attack him?" I was shocked. "I ... I never even considered it."

"I'm sure we've been conditioned NOT to consider it. But those were positive reinforcements. They can be more easily overcome."

I squeezed her hand gently. "You've just experienced their rendition of negative reinforcement," I whispered.

She thought again, then nodded definitively. "Then that settles it. THAT'S what we face if we try to escape. That's the stick that we'll get if we don't accept the carrot. I can't take that again. And, if you feel the same thing I just felt, I know you can't, either." She patted my hand in both of hers. "I know that this goes against your personal creed, Ken, but we're defeated. Completely and utterly. There's no recourse but full surrender." She shrugged. "It happens, from time to time, to the best-intentioned of armies. And now, it's happened to us. But, as long as we're together, we'll get through whatever is coming and ... we'll be okay."

Having reached the same conclusion, I nodded. "Then the next big problem is ... bathroom."

The solution to that one was simple, but unpleasant ... at least at first. When you begin to see the necessity in a situation, you start to accept the outcome with no comment. We held hands. While we were in there, and seeing fluffy towels laid out for us, we decided to shower together, wearing shower caps to keep the bandages dry. We always touched. We were never apart ... even for an instant. When we emerged, Dr. Arnold was standing there, waiting for us.

"Ready, ladies?" he asked, smiling.

We stood facing him, the towels wrapped around us, holding hands. "Yes sir," I said softly. "We're ready to surrender now."

Things moved very swiftly after that. Well, actually, since time had little meaning for us, I don't know that's true ... but it certainly seemed like it to me. When we awoke, we were always in each other's arms. When we GOT up, it was usually either to eat or to be immediately put back to sleep. I never fought, I never resisted, I never argued ... and we never had to deal with another crippling panic attack. I always surrendered and slept when he ordered, and I was always rewarded with a nice orgasm.

The next night (I assumed it was night), I awoke lying on my back, my right arm around Janie. The side of her face was pressed into my right breast. I remembered our conversation from the day before, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd really let her down. Why hadn't she TOLD me she had those sorts of feelings for me? I tried to decide if I was disgusted by the idea, and I had to admit that I wasn't ... I just wasn't particularly turned on. But ... obviously she was. How long had she kept it from me?

"Janie? You awake?"

She snuggled into my breast a little more. "Mmmm. Yes. What do you need?"

"You're on my arm, and I need to scratch an itch."

"Sure. Where?"

"Between my legs." She hesitated, then slowly reached down. I spread my legs wide for her, and she started gently scratching my right thigh. "Higher," muttered. When she started scratching my lower tummy, I moaned. "Make me cum, Janie."

She raised her head, and I assume she was looking at my face, but it was too dark to see. "Oh, no you don't, Ken! I'm not going to be responsible for you going all lez against your will. I've never done it myself. I was just wondering what it felt like, that's all."

I smiled. "Liar."

"What do you mean?"

"You love me, dummy! Why didn't you tell me?" She started to respond, but stopped herself. I decided to try a different tack. "Please don't make me do it myself, Janie. I need it so bad. Do it for me ... please?" When she hadn't answered in more than a minute, I reached down with my left hand and began stroking myself. THAT made her move. She gently slapped the offending fingers away, and began rubbing my slit with long, slow rhythmic strokes that slid lightly over my clitoris with every upstroke. "Holy cow!" I groaned, shuddering. An intense shiver spiked through my body.

"You're sopping wet," she commented.

"I ... I can't help it. Oh, God, Janie. I can't believe ... I'm going to cum already! Suck my nipple. Please ... please suck my ...." And that's all she wrote (as they say in the writing biz). It was glorious. I saw stars. No shit.

Then, of course, I had to do her ... which she steadfastly refused to let me do. So I kissed her. Nice kiss. It went on for awhile. I reached down and touched her while it was happening. And she was mine. I sucked on those long, hard nips of hers, and she went off like the Fourth of July.

And so now, when we spent time between "conditioning sessions," holding each other isn't the only thing there was to do anymore. It felt great ... and, it felt good to be in love. We talked about it. Neither of us had ever cum so hard ... or so quickly. It was Janie that first mentioned it ... that this whole thing could have been a result of the hypnosis ... of the conditioning. I'd thought about it, but I didn't want it to be true. Now that we'd discovered it, the last thing either of us wanted was for it to stop. Should we just ignore the prospect? No, she answered firmly. But ... we should accept it. Whatever it was ... conditioning, a natural course of events between us or a divine gift from heaven ... it was OURS now, and nobody was going to take it away from us!

We were changing in other ways, as well; and while we knew it was happening, we seemed powerless to prevent it. Dr. Arnold was becoming ... a friend. The amount of power he held over us was staggering. He had the ability to reward us with indescribable peace and physical pleasure ... or punish us with crippling psychological torment. But in return for our mental and emotional surrender, he always gave us the former, and never the latter. Janie and I talked about it, sometimes. She said it was a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome, where hostages began to empathize with their captors ... but knowing that didn't seem to lessen the effect. Now, with only a few words, we would go into trance, and we were always rewarded with a gentle, pleasurable orgasm for complying.

He sometimes hypnotized us individually. He would have me look in the other direction, and he would whisper in Janie's ear while showing her the blinking light, and I would feel her hand relax in mine and know that she had gone under. He would have her open her eyes then, and he'd talk to her gently but emphatically; and, after she shivered in ecstasy, she would be so ... blank and open and trusting and receptive. And, when he did that, my greatest feeling was one of envy. I'd often wind up begging him to please, please do it to me, too. I KNEW it was wrong, but I wanted it SO much. Twice more, I thanked him for what he did while the evil surgeon was operating on me, pressing on my back and helping me breathe. He had quite literally saved my life, I realized now; and when I talked to him about it, I couldn't help getting emotional and crying tears of joy that he had been there to rescue me. When he wanted to hypnotize me first, I'd always pay attention and surrender right away, so Janie could see me the way he would often let me see her. When that happened, after we awoke in each other's arms, she would be ravenous for me, and she'd scoot down and lick me, and I'd cum SO hard.

One night in bed (I assumed it was night), we discussed the thing that had been gaining an awful lot of room in whatever space the Mad Surgeon had left over in my head. "Janie, have you been having dreams about a guy?"

"Yes," she answered immediately. "A specific guy. You, too?" I nodded. She couldn't see me in the dark, but I'm sure she felt me. My face was using her chest as a pillow. "The same guy every night?" she continued. I nodded again. "Must be our new master ... the guy they're going to sell us to ... the guy that all this conditioning is for."

I thought about that. "Good," I said. "I like him. I like him a lot."

She laughed. "Honey, if they conditioned us for the Hunchback of Notre Dame, you'd like him just as much."

I smiled. "I always liked Quasimodo ... but I really like the idea of ... HIM."

"Those feelings are implanted, Ken."

"Yes ... but they're real. Real for me. And ... I know they're real for you, too. When you see him ... see him for real ... you're going to fall for him like a ton of bricks. You know you are."

She sighed. "You're right, of course. I was always the slut. When we met, I'd roll over for just about any guy that asked, remember? You saved me, Ken. If it wasn't for you coming into my life, I'd be in some home for battered mothers somewhere."

I laughed. "We saved each other." We were quiet for awhile then. "How are we going to share him?"

She found that especially funny. "You pretty little fool! WE are not going to share HIM at all. He is just going to take us ... one at a time or together ... whenever and however he wants. We won't have any say in the matter at all."

The concept of "taking us together" was especially enthralling. We talked well into the night about it (I assumed it was night). We did the next night, too ... and for just about every night thereafter (I assumed they were nights). The dreams were evolving. His face was more and more vivid. He laughed and smiled and held my hand. His very touch would sometimes make me cum. But he would never kiss me. The dream would always stop short of that. And one thing more ... when I dreamed about him, Janie was never there ... and I was never in her dreams.

And then ... suddenly, it was time! Dr. Arnold came in clapping his hands and telling us it was time to start getting ready. He held me by the shoulders and looked me in the eyes. "You're going to meet you're new master, Kendra!" he gushed, and despite myself, I was more excited than he was. He turned to Janie: "You're going to meet him! This is it!" And, she couldn't keep the smile from her lips.

He carried in cases containing make up and various cosmetics, combs, brushes, shampoos, conditioners, and dozens of other things. The prize items, though, were the dresses! They were a cross between simplicity and decadence, and the label made me gasp. They must have cost a fortune!

He left us, and we toted bottles and "tools of the trade" into the bathroom, where we spent half an hour in the shower. We shaved ourselves smooth, including between our legs, then we lathered, scrubbed, shampooed, cleansed and ... every once in awhile ... kissed. Back in the room, while she did my hair, I found that, if I put my hand back slightly, I could touch her thigh, never losing the contact we both needed. Neither of us required much makeup ... just a hint of it here and there, to accentuate our eyes and whatever we considered the other's best attributes. The nails took longer.

And finally, it was time for the dresses and shoes. Everything fit perfectly. There was no underwear. This was a particular problem for me, since my dress was short, and if I was ever put into a position of having to bend over while facing away from him, he'd be able to see clear up to tonsils.

The door opened, and the doctor beamed at us both. "Wonderful. I'm very proud of you." He seemed to have prepared a little speech in his head. He thanked us for our "cooperation," and he promised us that we would not be disappointed, now that we had each committed ourselves to our new master. Then he cautioned us that Mr. Toddworth was still officially our owner, and that he had absolute power over us until that ownership was transferred. Tonight, each of us would allow her new master to possess her for as long as he wanted. We were to do anything ... and perform any act that was demanded of us. When we nodded our understanding, he kissed each of us on the cheek. He told us that someone would be here shortly to fetch us. Then he told us goodbye, and he was gone.

We didn't want to sit on the bed, because we didn't want any wrinkles in the backs of the dresses, so we stood, side-by-side and watched the door expectantly. Finally, it opened, and a pleasant-looking older man was there. The sight of us literally seemed to take his breath away, but he quickly got himself under control, introduced himself as Mr. Yarnell, and asked us to please follow him. It's the first time I realized that we were in the basement of the mansion. He led us down a long corridor, then up a flight of stairs and through a door into a kitchen. As he turned toward the main entrance of the cooking area, Janie suddenly pulled me to a stop. "Excuse me ... Mr. Yarnell?"

The man paused and looked back us. He was a nice, agreeable gentleman. He looked ... fatherly. "Yes?"

Janie pointed to the surface of a table. "Is ... is that today's newspaper?"

He came back to us and looked. "Yes, I believe it is. Would you like to see it? I think there's a copy in the den."

She shook her head slightly. "No, I was just curious. Thank you."

He gave us one of those smiles usually reserved for four-year-old daughters who want to know why the sky is blue, and he turned toward the door again. I looked at her quizzically, and she stabbed a painted nail savagely at the upper corner of the paper. Finally, I saw the date, and my eyes widened in utter disbelief. "Two weeks?" I gasped.

"Twelve days," she corrected, and began pulling me after Mr. Yarnell. I was absolutely flabbergasted. We thought we had been there between two and three MONTHS. She leaned toward me and whispered. "This isn't just about human trafficking. This is too specific. There's more to it. This is about someTHING, not someBODY. We're meant to be a bribe, or a payment, or a ...."

And she stopped dead ... in speech, as well as forward movement. And I looked up. And there he was. Mr. Toddworth was introducing us to him, but with a sense of horror, I realized I hadn't been listening, and I didn't know his name. I was moving forward again, my hand still in Janie's ... but then her hand was gone. I usually panicked when I felt her hand leave mine, but this time, it was okay. This time, my hand was in his. I smiled at him, and said something inane about going in to dinner or something. He seemed to be devouring me with his eyes, and I don't think I've ever blushed so hard. And finally, finally, I glanced over and saw that he was not alone. Two of them. There were two of them. We hadn't both been conditioned together for a single master ... we had each been conditioned for one of our own. What a glorious joke the doctor had played on us! What a complicated monster he had proven to be!