A Slave's Doubts

"What the hell?" the man exclaimed as Melissa tore free from his grasp.

"S-sorry," she stammered, fumbling to tuck her tits back into place while tottering towards the exit. "I n-need to...need to go." She grit her teeth, forcing herself to stride out into the hall, fighting the urge to turn around and fall to her knees. That was what a good slut would do. But Melissa wasn't...wasn't a slut. Or, at least...she...she hadn't wanted to be or...didn't...

"Hey, Melissa," a perky red-head stepped in front of her. "Have you seen Master N.? He was supposed to price me after I was done cleaning the bathroom but I—"

"I-I don't know!" Melissa blurted out, startling her interrogator back and continuing her harried retreat. She wasn't even sure where she was going—she just had to get away from the party, from the low moans and thrumming music. What little stability Melissa had was crumbling by the second, the awful memories flowing freely as she...

...Began to realize there was something off about the party around her. Most of the women she passed were dressed in ridiculous Playboy bunny outfits, some with wads of dollar bills stuffed into their garter belts. They draped themselves across the other partygoers, seemingly content to be at the mercy of their ravenous eyes and groping hands. Melissa spied one man unbuckle his pants in the middle of a crowded longue, grabbing a passing bunny's ponytail and yanking her to her knees in front of him. The girl seemed dazed at first, but didn't resist or hesitate as the man forced his cock into her mouth. If anything, she seemed grateful for his attention, and slurped enthusiastically as he jockeyed her head back and forth. Melissa stared in horrified fascination, only to belatedly realize that the man was now leering at her, an inviting grin spreading across his obscene features. She quickly moved away, pushing against the tide of partygoers and bunnies now moving in to join the fun.

The world seemed to tilt as she staggered back into the hall, her senses overwhelmed by the bacchanalia breaking around her. It seemed every room she passed offered another a fresh hell of dripping tongues and writhing bodies. The stench of sex clung to her nostrils; ecstatic moans and cries echoed in her ears. What the hell had she stumbled into? Why hadn't she just stayed home and repented like a good girl? And where on earth was...

...The exit. Melissa had to find the exit. If she could just find her way outside, away from the memories and duties she was bound to...maybe then her brain would stop trying to tear itself apart.

If only everything around her wasn't so distracting.

The party was in full swing by now and, true to Brooke's predictions, it had turned into quite the night. Every room seemed to host sparkly new stimuli for Melissa's addled mind, every glimpse of cock and flash of cash enough to divert her path back into the haze of pleasure and servitude some piece of her still craved. She spied Chrissy on all fours atop a coffee table, her lips slobbering over one patron as another pounded her tight, tiny ass from behind. Melissa was transfixed for a solid minute before she managed to turn away, fighting the call of Chrissy's moans like a leash around her neck. At the other end of the room, the red-head Melissa had passed earlier was buried between some woman's legs, licking eagerly at her pussy despite still not being properly priced. Melissa turned to find the nearest Master, then growled with frustration when she remembered her mission.

This wasn't going to work. She couldn't even make it down the hall without her slut-side taking over. She needed away to stop it, to block out her training. There had to be something she could do, some way she could...

...hold it together, just a little longer until she could find the exit. Melissa kept her eyes low, rubbing the spot on her finger where the ring used to be. If only she hadn't left it behind. Now more than ever she missed its comforting embrace, missed the certainty she saw in its smooth, uniform surface, missed the man who had given it to her, along with the promise she had just made a mockery of. How could she have been so careless? Didn't she understand it was...

...The key to her salvation.

With a renewed surge of determination, Melissa clenched her fists and charged through the party, focused entirely on reaching the treasure hidden in her nightstand. If she could just recover it, if she could feel it around her finger once more...maybe it would be enough to counter whatever this place was doing to her. Then she could make her way to the exit, to where Chris would be waiting for her. He could take her somewhere else, somewhere far away from her Masters and their temptations. Somewhere she could finally find herself.

Whoever that ended up being.

Melissa poked her head into the slave quarters, and was grateful to find they were empty. Still, she slipped inside the darkened room as quietly as possible, not even risking the lights as she made her way to the nightstand by her bed. What she was doing wasn't technically forbidden but it still felt sacrilegious. Somehow, she knew the loss of her old self had to do with her Masters. And they didn't suffer defiance lightly.

With shaking hands, Melissa opened the bottom drawer, fishing all the way to the back corner until her fingers touched a cold, familiar smoothness. She held her breath as she withdrew the simple band, its silver surface catching the moonlight that slipped between the curtains. How had she ever considered this ring pathetic? Right now, it was the most beautiful object she had ever seen. It captured her gaze, quieted the anxious thoughts, and steadied her hands as she slipped her finger through its center.

Like a conductor completing a circuit, the contact sent a shock of memories through Melissa's mind.

For almost a year, she had assumed that being a slut was what she was meant to do, that her sale to Alpha Rho was a mutually beneficial inevitability. The past had seemed like a disorganized web of disconnected incidents, details and dates that she didn't care to string together. Sure, there had been moments a patron would ask some awkward, unanswerable question about her pre-slut life, or a concerned voicemail from her mother would leave her keenly aware of the long gaps in her memory. But even when she'd had these fretful moments, it'd always been so much easier to focus on the cock bobbing in front of her face, or the pleasure of a Master's hand between her legs. She'd wanted to be a good slut after all. And good sluts didn't bother thinking about the past, did they?

No. No they didn't.

But now it was all Melissa could think about.

She collapsed to her knees, hugging her shoulders as her mind rapidly remapped the story of her life. She hadn't come to Alpha Rho to become a slut—she had arrived on a heartbroken whim, fleeing the rejection of the man she had once promised herself to. Yet...something must've happened at that party, something that still remained in the shadows of her stolen memories. The Masters...they must've done something to make sure she didn't leave, to convince her that her place was kneeling at their beds and under their desks. What sort of demonic spell had they cast on her? And how could she have been so blind to their manipulations?

Melissa shook her head, yanking her thoughts out of their erratic orbit. Whatever the Masters had done to her, she could figure it out later—for the first time in what felt like forever, she was fully in possession of herself. Which meant it was time to act. It was time to escape this gilded cage and reunite with the life she had left. A part of her still paled at the idea of leaving the house and its pleasures behind, of abandoning the strong, protective guidance of her Masters for a relationship that had nearly broken her. But even if she couldn't reclaim what she'd once had with Chris, at least it would be her choice, one made not by the real, reawakened Melissa, not some brainwashed fabrication.

Her heart beating with renewed courage, Melissa stood up and peeked through the nearby window. A familiar red car was idling down the street, its headlights a beacon of hope in the dark night. Chris had come, just like he'd promised. Suppressing a relieved laugh, Melissa kicked off her heels and pulled her flats from under her bed, readying herself to make the run through the house in one go. It would be a little embarrassing for Chris to see her in this ridiculous maid uniform, but she couldn't risk lingering any longer. There was no telling what the Masters would do to her if they caught on to her plan.

Then the door creaked behind her. The lights flicked on. And the fire burning in her veins turned to ice in an instant.

"Mel?" Brooke asked, entering with hesitant steps. "What are you doing up here?"

"N-nothing," Melissa quickly shot back, too frazzled to come up with a convincing response. "What, um, what are you doing here?"

"I've been looking for you," her friend explained. "One of the patrons downstairs was complaining about you. And some of the other girls say you've been acting, like, super weird all night."

Melissa faked a look of surprise, trying to calculate if she could get past Brooke and out of the house before she raised the alarm. But the dark-haired slut seemed to sense this, and approached as though recovering an escaped animal, arms subtly spreading to the sides as she drew nearer.

"Is this about me leaving you with the drinks?" Brooke asked. "I told you I would try to convince Master E. to take the both of us, but you know he likes having me one-on-one. What was I supposed to do, turn him down? That's not what good sluts do. Good sluts obey their owners."

"Good sluts o—" Melissa shook the thought free from her head. "Brooke, stop. Don't you see what they've done to us?"

To Melissa's surprise, this froze the other slut in her tracks. "Done to us?" Brooke repeated, seeming genuinely baffled. "What are you talking about?"

Melissa paused, realizing her error. She had been so caught up in the horror of her own situation, she hadn't even considered what it might imply about the other girls. But if Melissa had been enslaved against her will...wasn't it possible Brooke was the same? Wasn't it possible she was also a victim of their Masters' machinations?

"Brooke, listen to me," Melissa commanded. "Those memories I kept telling you about? They're real. More real than anything our Masters have told us."

Brooke flinched, as though the words had physically struck her. "I-I don't understand. Are you saying they're lying to us?"

"It's worse than that. I think they've...tricked or brainwashed us somehow into thinking we want to be their little sex-pets. But now I know that's not true. And somewhere, deep down, I think you know it too."

"St-stop." Brooke pleaded, arms raised like a shield in front of her. "Mel, you're scaring me. Can't we just go downstairs and have fun like we always do?"

"Not until you try to remember," Melissa insisted. "Think, Brooke. Think about your life before you sold yourself. You must remember something, right?"

"Of course I remember...things. But, like...none of it matters right? I've always been a slut, and good sluts don't need to think so..."

"F-forget about what makes a good slut or not! Think about how you got here. What brought you to Alpha Rho? Why did you choose to stay?"

"I-I...I don't know!" Brooke exclaimed, her voice cracking. "There was a party or something and...I'm a slut, so I came looking to have fun, and then...one of the guys there...said he wanted to show me something and..." She stopped, the confusion in her eyes transforming into dull clarity.

Melissa's throat tightened. Somehow, she knew Brooke had remembered something bad. Yet Melissa couldn't stop herself from pushing onward, even as she could barely raise her voice above a whisper to ask:

"What happened, Brooke? You remember, don't you?"

"I...I do..." the dazed, dark-haired girl nodded. "He...it was Master N., I think...he brought me to this room. And there was this...bed with, like, handcuffs on the ends."

Melissa felt a strange tickle run through her body, her skin suddenly hot and cold at the same time. Part of her was afraid of what Brooke would say next. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to speak or interrupt, couldn't stop from hanging on every word and breathe that slipped from her friend's lips.

Brooke swallowed. "I...I thought at first that maybe he was, just, like kinky or whatever. And I was a good slut, so I played along like I should but..."

Melissa blinked, a horrible realization overtaking her. "Wait, stop. Brooke, that's enough. You—"

"But then...he put this weird thing on my head...like a VR helmet or something. And then..."

"Brooke, please, don't..." The memory was returning now, faster than Melissa could stop it.

"I saw the spiral."

The spiral. Melissa remembered it now. The cascading colors that had filled her vision; the droning hum that had invaded her ears, pulsing her thoughts into mush as her consciousness faded. Even through the lens of memory, she couldn't escape the spirals gravity, couldn't help but let it pull the strength from her body, her eyelids becoming so, so heavy as her chin drooped and her jaw fell slack.

"You remember it, don't you?" Brooke asked, a grin tugging the corners of her mouth. "You remember the spiral, Mel. How could you forget? It's so pretty, isn't it?"

"Nnnn..." Melissa clenched her eyes shut, trying to interrupt the invasive memory, to do something to break the spell falling over her. But the spiral wouldn't let her go: it was everywhere now, rippling across her vision wherever she looked. It was inescapable. Indomitable. And, she had to admit, really, really...

"Preetty..." Melissa exhaled, a wave of relaxation passing through her.

"That's right," Brooke cooed, shifting a strand of blonde hair from Melissa's face. "See? I told you you were a good slut. You were just confused."

"C-confused...wait..." Melissa managed to ball her fist, reminding herself of the ring around her finger. "Not a...slut...gotta...escape...gotta..."

"Oh, Mel," Brooke sighed, shaking her head. "I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this tonight. I wanted us to enjoy the party as usual but, well...orders are orders." She sighed.

"Orders?" Melissa repeated. The more Brooke talked, the harder it was to follow her. The spiral kept tugging at Melissa's thoughts, stretching and pulling them apart before she could form a coherent chain.

"Ah well." Brooke clapped her hands together as if dusting them off. "Like I said before, a good slut obeys. So it's time for you to follow me, Mel."

Melissa moved before she had even processed the command, her heavy feet dragging as she staggered out of the room in Brooke's wake. It was a strange sensation, being a passenger in her own body. Yet as much as Melissa wanted to scream and struggle, she couldn't find the energy, not when it took so much just to maintain her own self-awareness, to not succumb completely to the spiral's call.

"In here," Brooke gestured to a nearby door. "Make sure you smile for the Masters when you go in."

Melissa recognized the threshold she stood before, but couldn't stop herself from crossing it. The door creaked open, revealing Master N. and a member of the alumni on the other side, both waiting expectantly next to the bed she had tried to so desperately to escape. Now, she just smiled placidly to her captors, unable to do more than let out a tiny whine of protest as Brooke guided her onto the mattress.

"So what exactly am I seeing?" The alumnus asked. "How is having one slave strap in another going to revolutionize the process?"

"Just keep watching," Master N. grinned. "You'll see soon enough."

With a gentle smile, Brooke tightened the first cuff around Melissa's ankle, locking it securely into place. The cold leather sent a jolt of panic through her, which she manifested as a feeble, kicking motion towards her captor, a wobbly, lethargic attack Brooke easily caught.

"Shhh..." the dark-haired slut whispered, securing the errant leg. "That's enough of that. You'll embarrass yourself in front of our Masters."

"D...don't..." Melissa squirmed, but couldn't stop Brooke from lifting her arms above her head, restraining her feebly flexing hands, leaving her open and helpless as the spiral continued to turn in her mind's eye. "Please...Brooke..."

If Melissa's friend heard her, she didn't give any indication. Instead, she moved over to the computer station by the bed, sliding into the desk chair and throwing her hair to the side as the system hummed to life.

The alumnus's eyebrows perked up. "Hold on, is she...?"

"Running the process?" Master N. finished proudly. "That's right. It's one of Brooke's many talents."

"Thank you, Master," Brooke smiled sweetly, tapping on a few keys. "I learned from the best, after all."

"You taught her...?" the alumnus gasped. "But that would clash with the programming. They're not supposed to know that they've been...you know."

Master N. laughed. "Ordinarily, sure. But Brooke is a special case. It took a while to get it right, but we've managed to make her cognizant of her brainwashing, while keeping her loyal. In fact, she's become quite the little helper now, haven't you Brooke?"

"Absolutely, Master," Brooke beamed, rising from her chair and sauntering over to Melissa. "It breaks my heart seeing good little sluts go bad. So I do my best to make sure they stay in line."

Melissa let out a shaking growl, pulling uselessly at her bonds. "B...but we were friends..." she slurred.

"We still are," Brooke purred, her eyes a cascade of cruel spirals in Melissa's vision. "I'm doing this for your own good Melissa. You'll see. You'll be so much happier when we're done."

Melissa opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't think straight enough to form an argument. Instead, she just gaped uselessly as Brooke lifted a pair of scissors and a marker from the bedside table, snipping Melissa's skirt off before writing in big bold letters above her pussy:

F R E E U S E

Melissa shuddered, arousal and revulsion clashing inside her, igniting her veins as she tried once more to pull free. But all she managed to do was rattle the chains and whimper pathetically as Brooke lifted the black visor overhead.

"Would you like to do the honors?" Brooke asked her owners.

"It's your job, isn't it slut?" Master N. responded.

"Yes, Master. I was hoping you would say that."

"N-no..." Melissa tried to whip her head back and forth, all she managed was flopping it to one side before her strength gave out. Her body was too weak. The spiral was too strong. And soon...it would become her world.

The visor descended. The colors and hum filled her head. Until there was nothing else left.

___________________________________________________

Brooke sighed with satisfaction, stepping off the bed as Melissa sunk into the process's clutches. The blonde's arms were still tensing slightly, and an occasional spasm of resistance still echoed down her back and hips. But the readouts on the screen all seemed as they should. Within moments, Melissa would be back on the path of a grateful slut.

So at least the night wouldn't be a total waste.

"Amazing," the alumnus, Mr. G., remarked, staring hungrily at Melissa's twitching, jiggling form. "How did you know this one needed to be reprocessed?"

Brooke smiled with pride. "I just get a hunch sometime. Probably something my Masters programmed into me. I can tell when a slut is starting to slip, even before she does. In poor Mel's case though, circumstances forced my hand a bit."

Master N. coughed. "We actually left a few errors in Melissa's conditioning to test Brooke's instincts. Though it sounds like things might've gotten a little out of hand."