Dreams of Darkness Pt. 01

She had never spoken to me like that before but She was right about a couple of things: i was a slave and i did belong to Her. If She wished to speak to me like that then it was fine as far as i was concerned so i did as She instructed. Oddly enough the instruction resulted in all of my worries regarding Her safety just trickling away leaving me feeling serene and contented.

It was a week or so after Her confrontation with members of The Circle that the next change was instigated and once again it was rebecca that went onto the couch and although the mental reorientation was minor, the reprogramming took the best part of a whole Saturday. Remember when i said that i couldn't imagine who would want a silly, giggly, air-headed snowflake? Well i now had my answer, Mistress did!

After her latest session the differences between rebecca's real-world personality and her slave-persona became marked. When dressed in real-world clothes she was highly intelligent, incisive and able: the archetypal career woman. But, now, when she removed her work clothes she also seemed to leave most of her IQ in her wardrobe with them. Real-world Rebecca was bright but slave-rebecca was indeed a classic blonde bimbo. The fact that both personalities could occupy the same body in turn and without conflict was a measure of just how powerful the system down in the basement actually was.

It was pointless to even try to hold any sort of meaningful conversation with slave-rebecca as her response to everything was to giggle, frown and answer in single syllables. Mistress found this to be endearing so as long as She was happy, nothing else mattered.

Christmas came and went and everything at home was perfect until that is, Mistress brought a couple of girls home one Sunday. The stated reason for the trip had been to visit Mistress Margaret, the Psychiatrist who lived a few minutes away from Ludlow University and to discuss the possibility of being admitted to The Circle. Mistress Anjika it seems had other ideas for even though I didn't accompany Her: four other slaves, including Prita did however they had remained in the car while the two Mistresses met.

Mistress looked very pleased with herself as the two drugged girls were unloaded from the car's boot, hustled in from the garage and taken straight down to the basement where they were stripped and then strapped onto couches.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" She enthused as She stroked and fondled their bodies. Seeing Her so happy made me happy too.

"Oh yes, Mistress, they will make fine additions to your coterie. How was your meeting regarding The Circle?" i don't know why i brought it up. Nagging doubts regarding Her safety, i suppose.

Her whole attitude changed. "Who needs those stuck-up bitches? Fuck the lot of them; I'm better off on my own!" She shouted but then She mellowed, grabbed me and kissed me passionately. "I've got you, my darling Siobhan, so what other support could I possibly need?"

From this i gathered that things might not have gone too well.

She turned back to the new girls and personally inserted the dildos into their pussies and arseholes causing them to give little confused moans. "Aren't they fantastic? We came back through the University campus, and they were just sort of standing around in some dark, secluded corner. I just couldn't resist them! I'll probably sell the blonde, but this little red-head is here to stay!"

And that's how Imogen Parkes became slave-imogen. She soon went up to the clinic and acquired the usual enhancements that Mistress insisted on. As she had rich coppery-red hair and not my sandy-red she wasn't turned into a carbon-copy of Emily and me: but Mistress loved her non-the-less and she spent her first week with us being continuously fucked. Her friend, Anna Porter, did indeed become slave-anna for a time but Mistress didn't really take to her. So despite the new DD's suiting her far more than they did her friend because she was 5'9" and well-built, Mistress eventually decided that she should be sold.

Anjika really did take to slave-imogen, however and had her conditioned to prefer oral sex. She even went on-line and bought a queening stool which is like a three sided box with a hole cut in the padded seat. When a slave, usually imogen, was instructed to lay on the floor the stool would be placed over her head and Anjika would sit on it so that Her pussy pressed lightly against the girl's mouth without putting any pressure on her face or risking suffocation. She loved that stool and spent a lot of time perched on it although She did let me use it and i enjoyed my time both under it and perched on top.

Early in April, Anjika made Her decision regarding Anna: the girl was to be sold on and I was instructed to phone Mistress Wendy and ask her if she would make the necessary arrangements in exchange for her usual twenty per cent commission. The phone call went smoothly and Dr Dryden was cordial to me even though she knew that I was only a slave.

She readily agreed to handle the sale and saw no difficulty in finding a buyer for a tall buxom blonde who had already been conditioned.

"How did your mistress come by the item?" She eventually asked.

"Oh, she was one of a pair of University students She obtained back in January." i answered innocently.

There was a pause. "I -- see!" There was another pause. "Well leave it with me and inform your mistress that I'll be in touch when I have a buyer." Then she rang off: etiquette did not require a Mistress to say "Good bye" to someone else's property.

Mistress was sitting on slave-imogen's face when i informed her of what Mistress Wendy had said. She thanked me and instructed me to suck her nipples which I did. Clearly she was pleased with me for the way that I had arranged things with Mistress Wendy, who it must be said did not seem to be on speaking terms with Her. The intimacy was her way of rewarding me and I loved it

Mistress Wendy phoned back ten days later and spoke to me personally as the two Mistresses still were avoiding each other. "Ah, slave, you may tell your mistress that I have a buyer for the item and that -- banana-pastrami --"

(discontinuity)

"-- I will send someone over to collect it on Wednesday Evening." Then her voice changed and she spoke rather slowly. "Is everything clear?"

Suddenly things were. "Yes... My... Mistress!" i answered robotically, my mind in turmoil as everything realigned even though things were already crystal-clear.

After Mistress Wendy had rung off, i reported to Anjika who smiled and thanked me, observing. "You were on the phone a long time."

"Sorry, mistress, but i was just making sure that there was no confusion." i said by way of reassurance.

* * *

i am told that i climbed off my couch in the Maintenance Room at four o'clock the next morning and unlocked the front door but retained no real recollection of this action or indeed of anything else that occurred before mid-morning.

There had been a pair of them waiting in the porch, a pair of tall pitch-black shadows that seemed ghost-like in the darkness. A vague thought drifted smoke-like through my dreaming mind -- Why isn't the security light working?

They followed me in through the front door -- Why doesn't the intruder alarm go off?

"Stay here!" One of the tall, black velvet clad figures ordered, it was a woman's voice. I watched them as they moved towards the staircase at the end of the hallway. One was carrying something that looked vaguely like a black CO2 Fire extinguisher.

The hall lights were off and I hadn't been able to see clearly.

It was a strange sensation almost like being asleep and awake at the same time: unable to do anything without instructions, unable to think unless instructed to: a restful and peaceful state, totally stress-free. i waited unmoving, unthinking, all was silence until...

"Who the fuck..?" Someone shouted; i recognised the voice; it belonged to the woman, Anjika Gupta. There was a blast of a gas cylinder being discharged and then silence.

i waited unmoving, unthinking, all was silence until...

The hall and stairs lights came on, dazzling me.

i waited unmoving, unthinking, all was silence until...

The tall, black-clad figure of a woman descended the staircase and moved from room to room, turning lights on as she did so. Eventually she moved to the front door and stood near me, then extracting a mobile phone from somewhere, made a call and said just four words: "Code green. Target secure."

And that was that.

i waited unmoving, unthinking, all was silence until...

They walked in through the front door: there were two of them both accompanied by slaves of their own. Even in my controlled mental state i recognised them; they were Mistress Margaret and my Mistress. Mistress Margaret, an impressive-looking grey-haired middle aged woman who was of medium height, turned to me and smiled. She stroked my hair and then raised my chin with her fingertips.

She read my collar. "Ah, Anjika Gupta's slave-controller: my dear, you are a valuable catch!"

"Oh, yes," my Mistress answered, "it's far better with computer networks than any item that either of us owns."

Margaret Baxter stroked my cheek. "Gupta seems to have a knack of acquiring useful items: such a pity that she is so reckless, she would have been a great asset to The Circle."

They went on upstairs and i lost sight of them for a time.

i waited unmoving, unthinking, all was silence until...

A slave who was unknown to me scurried in through the front door carrying a shiny, bright red garment. She too vanished upstairs.

i waited unmoving, unthinking, all was silence until...

Mistress Wendy, my Mistress, walked slowly downstairs. "You, Siobhan, or whatever the fuck you're called. Join me in the living room."

I trotted along after her. Once in the sitting room she was joined by Mistress Margaret, who I seemed to recall was a 'Psychiatrist', although the significance of the word was beyond me.

"I've no idea just who these slaves of Gupta's actually are, other than that one there," Mistress Wendy waved casually in my direction, "I've had it come in just on the off-chance that it can tell us."

"Don't worry," Mistress Margaret grinned waving some sheets of paper in the air, "I found the records section of her network and printed out this summary."

When she received a copy, my Mistress smiled as she read it. "What do you suggest?"

Mistress Margaret sunk into what had been Anjika Gupta's favourite armchair. She was about to speak when a small item of furniture caught her eye. "Oh look!" She exclaimed as she reached down and then held it up in the air. "A queening stool, I haven't seen one of these in years!"

She put it down again. "My suggestion is that we retain this house and use it as a processing facility. We both know that the standard of the equipment is far superior to anything that we possess."

Mistress Wendy nodded. "I don't think any members of the circle have anything this good, certainly not in the UK. Gupta was a bloody brilliant student back in the day: we should condition her to run this place."

"No!" Margaret Baxter snapped and then pointed at me. "This one runs it and Gupta becomes her slave. It's the best way to take a firm control of a loose-cannon while still preserving most of her ingenuity and inventiveness."

Mistress Wendy cocked her head in my direction and chuckled as she spoke. "What? You want to turn that into a Mistress?"

Baxter screwed up her face as she thought for several seconds before answering. "There's no need to go that far, I'm sure that she could be conditioned so as to create a personality that can act as a sort of super-controller. Afterwards she will run our facility but within strict guidelines and under our control."

My Mistress nodded. "I like it... This place should prove to be very useful as well as profitable. The house is big enough so we can expand the operation if necessary plus we can add cosmetic and medical work, too, there's always call for that."

Mistress Margaret smiled at me and asked. "How do you like the sound of that, my dear?"

Well i didn't understand, not in my current state but i smiled back and said. "i like it very much." This caused Mistress Wendy to laugh.

"Okay, what about Gupta's property? That's going to have to be sold, surely?" My Mistress said.

Margaret Baxter's face broke into a smile. "Not necessarily. The ones with jobs can remain here. Siobhan here is going to need a staff and it would be nice for her to have someone to fuck. The rest can be dispersed. If you want any of them, help yourself, they won't fit into my set-up."

Wendy nodded. "It's agreed, then, let it be as you suggest. The only one that I want is the little Asian slave, the little one with the really big tits, the rest can go although I suggest that the two students that Gupta kidnapped should go abroad: the police are still looking for them, after all."

Baxter looked thoughtful. "We'll send them to Kê Cai, in China, as a gift of course, I'm sure that she will like them, it would be good if she owed us a favour!" She looked thoughtful. "Then there's Gupta's anal-sex slave," she glanced at her print-out, "Fiona. I suggest that we give her to Helena Yorke; we both know how she appreciates a welcoming backside... I was going to ask for her professional advice on how we can buy this place off ourselves and not pay a fortune in tax; hopefully she'll take the new girl in lieu of a fee."

Mistress Wendy laughed. "She's a banker, remember? They never do anything for nothing." She paused. "No wait -- we'll present the slave to her daughters. They've got the same tastes as she has and she dotes on them."

Baxter nodded. "Right, I'm going to make a few calls, can I leave you with the loose-ends, Wendy?"

At that she departed leaving me totally confused and trapped inside a waking dream that made no sense what-so-ever.

12. Recessional.

Checkmate -- the clergy attempt to exit the church.

Although she hadn't shown it while Margaret Baxter was present, Mistress Wendy was quite taken with the woman Gupta's queening stool. She picked it up and examined it for several minutes before placing it in the middle of the carpet.

She looked up at me and snarled. "What the fuck are you waiting for, you bitch?"

Not needing any further encouragement, i scrambled onto the floor and got my head under the stool so that it was supported by the padding. Then as quickly as she could, Mistress dropped Her jeans and panties and sank down onto the padded seat so that Her pussy lips pressed lightly against my mouth. For the first time in several hours, the fog of confusion left me and i knew exactly what to do: i licked Her gently from clitty to arsehole before sucking as much of her fleshy labia into my mouth as I could. i tasted Her silky juices in the process and almost orgasmed from the experience. My wonderful Mistress was allowing me to lick Her pussy for the first time.

She was sweet with a slight spicy under taste: no two pussies ever taste the same: the woman Gupta was earthy while slave-jasmine, my personal favourite, had just a hint of malt; but not only that, she positively oozed and produced more of the glorious secretion than any woman that i had intimately known.

i decided that i had better concentrate on the one perched on the stool less than an inch away from my face, the one whose owner was twisting from side to side and moaning quietly with pleasure. Then it was lick, suck and lightly chew again and again. The moans became louder then as I rolled Her clitty between my lips and She shrieked and quivered. But when i motor-boated it she exploded squirting a whole load of her juices onto my face and into my mouth. Mistress was rewarding me!

i continued, switching my attentions to Her tight little arsehole which i kissed and forced my tongue up into which caused Her to ripple with pleasure. Within a few seconds She came again and gushed even more. i suppose that She must have queened me for a good half hour and i only stopped when She slipped sideways off the stool and landed in a twitching heap on the carpet. If this was Her reaction to my little tongue then i longed to see what would happen if She queened slave-prita who was very well endowed in that particular department. Now THAT will be spectacular!

When Mistress recovered enough to carry on, i noticed that her attitude towards me had warmed somewhat and i ceased to be regarded as an 'it', not that it had bothered me. She summoned one of the slaves that had accompanied Her when She had arrived before dawn and ordered a cup of coffee; she then glanced across at me and then asked for a second cup.

She smiled at me. "Your sister-slaves are being re-programmed to cure them of their dependency on their former owner; it will be your turn this afternoon. I bet you didn't realise that the couches in the recovery room could be used for this purpose, did you?"

Well she was right about that, it was a no-brainer simply because the Siobhan-version currently in control was hard-wired into the "obey-orders only" mode and couldn't really think about anything else. There were multiple other siobhans lurking just below the surface, i could feel their thinly restrained presence on and off and disliked the feelings of insecurity and unease that their existence induced in the current 'me'. Oh, they understood exactly what was going on and what the various systems were capable of; not only that but they let me know how inadequate they found me. Think of it as a weird induced version of Multiple Personality Disorder. Weird? Sure! All of the personalities were actually versions of Siobhan O'Rourke.

The coffee arrived and Mistress sent the slave off on another errand but i was too busy basking in the warm glow of Mistress's bountiful generosity (She'd given me coffee) to listen as to what the slave's instructions were. The other Siobhans cursed me as a shallow personality and an inadequate clone of the real thing.

Eventually the slave returned with a bizarre figure that she dragged along on a collar and lead. I looked at the figure and recognised it as the woman Anjika Gupta. Her face had a greyish tinge, except for the dark circles around her eyes and it was obvious that she had been crying.

Mistress took hold of the lead and gave me a triumphant look; she sounded smug when she finally spoke. "Siobhan, I need her former chief-slave to see what she has become so I will eradicate your current personality, it's of limited use anyway so will not be missed." She smiled to me. "Ready? Terminate banana-pastrami!"

My head spun. It was nothing like the gradual change that happens in the changing rooms when my mind gradually slips from slave-persona to realworld-persona or back again. This experience was painful because the old personality had been yanked out and discarded. I almost heard her scream as she was expelled and faded into oblivion.

I was back, I was groggy but I was definitely back. I looked around and my eyes beheld a pitiful sight. It was Anjika, my Mistress, and she was wearing a bright red latex dress without proper sleeves; instead, her arms were constrained behind her back and forced together in a mono-glove that looked like it was welded to the rest of the garment.

"Siobhan," Dr Dryden asked gently, "who is this woman?"

I was gob-smacked. "She is Mistress Anjika!"

Dryden chuckled again, but it had a nasty undertone to it this time. "She is a Mistress no longer. Her reckless actions were endangering all of us other Mistresses which is why she has been dealt with. Soon she will be converted a totally submissive slave and then I will give her to you. What do you say to that?"