Refashioned Pt. 07

Disclaimer:

This story is just that, a story. It is a work of fiction and nothing at all to do with the real world or how to treat people in it. All the characters within it are adults. It contains descriptions of nonconsentual sex and other nasty things that should not be read by anybody under the age of 18.

* * *

Smiling, the slave greeted Monica warmly, silently noting her lightly flushed cheeks and newly applied lipstick. It was just after lunch and their co-workers were slowly filtering back to their cubicles. slaveannabel had spent that time at her desk idly eating her specially packed lunch, mantra pulsing through her mind endlessly reinforcing what she was and always would be.

The slave no longer met Controller in the bathroom.

The monica-material had taken over that particular role.

"Hello Monica," slaveannabel greeted her warmly, noting the girl's fresh perfume masking the faint scent of sex that did not escape her highly attuned nose.

"Umm, hi Annabel," Monica began awkwardly, wringing her hands.

Arching an eyebrow slightly at the girl's discomfort, the slave silently urged her to continue.

"Lauren said that you might be moving out..." Monica asked hesitantly.

slaveannabel gave her a reassuring smile. "Yup. I got a new place that's much closer to work. Why? Are you interested?"

Her Controller had simply informed the slave that she was to report to the living quarters above the gym tomorrow. There were no explanations. She had no questions.

The girl visibly relaxed, her awkwardness vanishing. "Yeah," she replied eagerly. "Lauren said...." the material began, trailing off, her flushed cheeks reddening as she spoke aloud the name of the woman she had come to love.

"Sure! That sounds like a great idea," slaveannabel enthused, steadfastly ignoring the material's obvious arousal. "You know Lauren already. Naomi and Jess, the other two in the house, are great. You'd fit in perfectly. This saves everybody a lot of trouble!"

The monica-material beamed with excitement.

"Actually I'm relieved," the slave continued confidentially, "I didn't want my sudden departure to cause hassle about the rent. You know how awkward these situations can get."

The female material was nodding in agreement but slaveannabel knew she wasn't listening. The monica-material's mind had moved on, already seduced by the promise of a new and brilliant future spent with the wonderful woman she thought she loved.

"You'll make the perfect replacement."

* * *

"Hello siobhan," her voice low and husky, causing the Irishwoman to squirm in her chair in surprise.

And more.

"Annabel..." the IT technician breathed looking up at the slave looming over her, siobhan's pupils impossibly wide beneath the new glasses that were steadily burning her identity away.

It was late. Everybody in the IT section had left for the evening apart from the young woman who had dutifully been sitting at her desk pecking at her keyboard, waiting.

"You look perfect," slaveannabel comlimented, her sex sizzling as she drank in the sight of the pale, slender woman dressed in a new mauve top, the high turtleneck enshrouding her long neck in its vice-like grip.

"Ahhh..." siobhan gasped, her voice catching as she shook uncontrollably. "T...thank you Annabel."

The slave's own moist snatch throbbed with desire as she controlled the material. It had only been a few days but the siobhan-material had gone deep, far deeper than monica or even she had been at this stage of her Enlightenment.

"Have you broken up with your boyfriend?" the slave questioned.

"Yessss..." siobhan shuddered, her eyes rolling back in her head as her body recalled the orgasmic bliss that had ravaged her once she had completed the task of engineering an acrimonious split with the male. Bile had spewed forth from her mouth. She'd mercilessly wielded every weapon in her verbal arsenal to hurt him. He wouldn't return.

"Good," the slave praised the material. "You no longer need him. He held you back. You never really loved him."

"Isn't that correct?"

"Ohhh..." the material groaned in agreement, "y... yesssssss....."

"You will be much happier in your new home," the slave declared. "You will love it."

Preparations had already been made to house the siobhan-material in the facility where, free from outside influences, she would be turned into the devoted servant of Medusa that she, without realising it, had always been.

The reasons why this piece of material's enslavement was being accelerated did not trouble her. Such questions belonged to annabelthought. But now, mind following Instruction, slavethought controlled her completely. Every synapse in her brain felt as if it was vibrating with pure bliss, singing a hymn of rapture to her Owner.

The smouldering eyes in the pretty freckled face met hers as slaveannabel's piercing stare trapped her prey like an exotic butterfly being pinned to a specimen board by a collector.

Reaching out, slaveannabel ran her hand slowly, deliberately, sensuously, along the fleshmaterial's collar, caressing it firmly but lovingly.

The siobhan-material's whole body rocked in the chair, jerking and twitching as the pleasure consumed her, gasping and moaning in animal lust, begging for more, surrendering to her new desires, already helplessly addicted to the ecstasy overwhelming her body and mind.

Eyes never wavering from the bucking woman, slaveannabel raised her other hand to her own tightly collared neck as she continued to stroke the siobhan-material, skillfully sending the female deeper into a frenzy of sexlust, the material writhing in agonised pleasure as she was brought to the very brink of oblivion. Cunt pulsing with Disciplined joy, slaveannabel relished the delectable slavethought that told her she was nothing more than the living instrument of Medusa's Will as she savoured the bottomless depths of submission now burned forever into this piece of powerless womanflesh.

"It is time to go," the slave finally announced, releasing her captive, the rapturous sensations slowly ebbing from the material's body but leaving her desperate for more. "We will go to the gym for Training."

"Yessss Annabelll..." the siobhan-puppet rasped, rising to her feet unsteadily.

* * *

The light pulsed before her, dazzling her, rousing her conscious mind into what now passed for wakefulness. She was in her Obedience Tube, staring wide-eyed into the curved glass just inches away.

The Spiral she no longer remembered gazing into for so many hours had vanished.

It's place had been taken by something else, something that glowed with power and holiness. An emblem. The focus of her life. The reason for her existence.

Her breathing increased.

Medusa!

The Sacred Symbol of her devotion started to pulse and flare before her eyes, causing her Trained, Disciplined body to respond, the orgasm taking her, ravaging her mind and body as the slave worshipped the Owner of her soul.

Slavethought filled her mind with Purpose and devotion, reassuring her that all was as it should be. She realised that she was being changed. Whatever happened in the Tube was far stronger than the effect of the headset had ever been. Every time she woke, some small part of her was different. But thanks to blessings of slavethought, her critical thinking faculties, that would have previously led her into doubt and fear, had grown ever dimmer.

Yet sometimes, out of nowhere, unsettling feelings appeared, gnawing at her obedience, disturbing her happiness. Negativity threatened her happiness. It had to be suppressed, eradicated, purged, until only the purity of obedience, of submission, of worship remained. Then, and only then, would she be a worthy servant for her Deity.

Slowly, the tube moved, sliding out from the darkness where she had been stored for the night. Beyond the confines of the clear glass she made out the contours of the large room the slave now called home. The facility was large, obviously designed for a considerable number of residents as evidenced by the numbers of empty Obedience Tubes lying dormant alongside her. But slaveannabel had not yet encountered any other occupant in the short time she had been quartered here.

Cool air rushed in as the glass covering slid away, quickly dissipating the moist humidity that had bathed her body for hours. Levering herself up from the comfortable moulded sleep-platform that she had lain on for so long, the slave stood.

Joy suffused through her. Another day! Another chance to obey!

Proceeding to the washing area to clean and prepare herself for the workday ahead, her pussy throbbed expectantly, knowing that with every step she took, every action she performed, every word she uttered, every slavethought that appeared in her mind, she was enacting the Divine Will of Medusa.

* * *

The four women looked up as she approached them in the break room. Smiling disarmingly, the slave eased herself into the empty chair, assessing them discreetly. Their lightly flushed faces and the faint hint of arousal that wafted in her direction told slaveannabel they were all now primed to obey.

They were a disparate group from a number of different sections in work who had never socialised together before.

But now they were gathered, waiting, simmering with anticipation.

Ripe for the plucking.

slaveannabel had thoroughly examined their profiles, read their forum messages, thrilled over the Visor-clad selfies they had each eagerly shared.

She knew what they felt, what they thought, what they needed. And she would exploit that knowledge. Mercilessly.

They were Owned.

Of course, none of them realised that.

Yet.

"So," she stated simply, taking charge of the expectant group, "wouldn't it be much better to use our breaks more productively. To do something for ourselves that will make us feel better?"

There were nods all round, eager eyes shone brightly as they immediately agreed to her suggestion.

"Getting stuck in a rut is unhealthy. We need to take action."

"Yesss..." murmured Philippa, her eyes wide with need. slaveannabel was pleased. Obviously the tall blonde was the weakest of the group. She would use her as a focus to claim the others.

"Very good Philippa," she cooed, noting how the words caused her prey to wiggle in her seat, doubtless fighting back the urge to plunge her hand into her slick cleft and finger-fuck herself.

"All happiness comes from within," the slave went on, her eyes boring intently into the helpless material. "We are each responsible for our own happiness. Isn't that true?"

"Yessss... Annabelll..." Philippa agreed readily, the others nodding in unison.

"Happiness comes from Training our minds and bodies to purge all the negativity that holds us back," slaveannabel insisted, clenching her thighs, thrilling to the sight of the material hanging on her words, knowing that she was nothing but a mouthpiece being used to brand the Truth into their receptive minds.

"Yesssss..." the four aroused voices quavered in complete agreement.

"Good," the slave praised. "There is a gym near here. I will bring you to it. There we will Train our minds and bodies to be happy."

* * *

She was back in Miss Henderson's class. Maths had never been one of her strong subjects, but she had tried hard. And Judith Henderson had been nice, one of her favourite teachers. She had wanted to please her, gain a smile of praise for a lesson well learned...

The memory began to grow dim, the edges of the frame that contained it dissolving...

She should try to hold on to it. It was important. This was a part of her past that made her who she was. Without it, she would be... less.

Determination swelled as she concentrated on the memory, urging herself to save it from the blackness. From the void.

With some relief, the memory returned, strong as ever. Just the way it had always been.

Miss Henderson...

No.

slavejudith.

She was back in slavejudith's class. Eyes ablaze with fanatical devotion, her teacher stood at the head of the class. Awestruck, like the rest of her classmates, pulse racing, she breathlessly followed every word. Moaning, she reached between her legs, sinking her fingers into the moist folds of her burgeoning womanhood as she fixated upon the adorable features she lusted after.

Her enthusiastic slaveteacher was preaching the Holy Gospel, every word sending her deeper into pleasure. Around her, a classroom of groaning, spasming students masturbated furiously to their teacher's honeyed words. It felt so good. The desperate need to please her grew stronger and stronger. Nothing else mattered.

She needed to know the Truth.

She needed to Believe.

The Truth of what she was.

What she had always been.

What she would always be.

Owned property.

A weak and horny slave.

A mindless, obedient drone.

A sexObject to be Used.

She was Owned.

Yessss... so Owned.

Owned by Medusa...

MEDUSA!!!

Tightly sealed in her Obedience Tube, the rapturous screams of delight went unheard as the orgasm claimed her.

* * *

"Hello monica," the slave greeted, her voice compelling the woman to stop in her tracks.

Turning to face her, the monica-material stood, her eyes dancing with arousal, practically bouncing from foot to foot with barely suppressed sexual energy.

"Annabelll..." she gasped, her voice trembling with need.

"Off to lunch?" the slave queried lightly, her sex throbbing as she skewered the weak-willed woman with a piercing gaze that caused the monica-material's body to visibly shake.

"Yess... i mean no..." the female squirmed in confusion. "i mean... i'm meeting Lauren..."

Like a fish dangling helplessly from the end of a line gasping for breath, the wriggling material was delicious. slaveannabel remained silent, deliberately drawing out the pause, knowing that every moment was pure agony for her target.

"Ah," slaveannabel smirked wickedly, finally breaking the interminable tortuous silence. "i understand."

Frozen like a wide-eyed rabbit staring uncomprehendingly at the onrushing headlights that would soon steamroller her former existence, monica stood there, her shuddering body screaming with the programmed need to please her Controller. Yet, some unknown Disciplined compulsion made her submit to the slave who spoke to her now.

"Well," slaveannabel rasped throatily, relishing the sexual thrill of torment that her Blessed Owner had permitted her to inflict upon this lesser servant. Her actions were no mere caprice; toying with material helped to lock the chains of Discipline tighter around their minds, demonstrating just how weak and helpless they truly were, how utterly impossible it was for them to resist, priming them to embrace the Truth.

Such was her Purpose.

And slaveannabel silently uttered a prayer of thanks to the Deity she Loved for it .

She was pleased to observe that the monica-material was well advanced on her journey to complete surrender. Breaking her completely would not take long.

"Run along monica," she dismissed the submissive female curtly. "You don't want to be late."

"T...thankk you Annabell..." the material gasped, hurriedly making her way to the stairs, desperate not to be late for her appointment with the petite woman she had been brainwashed to love.

* * *

The Spiral twirled endlessly, dominating the narrow blank room. Sweat glistened on the woman's body after her strenuous workout, reflecting the glow of the twirling vortex that was steadily sucking her thoughts away. She stood quite still, her body ramrod stiff, eyes impossibly wide and fixed on the whorling display that was her existence.

Breathing in the pungent musk that emanated from the deeply entranced material, slaveannabel closed the door of the small Booth behind her. The weak siobhanmind had been Trained. She could have used the speakers but slaveannabel wanted to be there for this.

Closing the gap, she stood before the entranced woman and the Spiral, positioning herself carefully so that she was now the centre of her universe.

"You belong to Medusa," slaveannabel announced firmly.

Sighing happily, the siobhan-material's mouth moved, her saucer-like eyes never wavering from the Spiral that span endlessly within her. "i belong to Medusa."

The computer technician had rapidly succumbed to the multi-layered Training designed to bend her will. With her sleeping hours controlled by the headset, while the modified glasses ensured there was no escape through the day, the weak siobhanmind had been thoroughly cleansed of anything that might prevent her from surrendering to her destiny.

And it made the slave wet to know that she was a small cog in that process.

All thought was slavethought. These correct thoughts kept the slave focussed on the task at hand; helping to break this female completely for her Owner.

"You exist to please Medusa," the slave asserted, knowing with every fibre of her being this was True.

"i exist to please Medusa," the hypnotized woman agreed, her voice dripping with adoration.

"You are not a person. You have never been a person," the slave pronounced. slaveannabel had no conception of what the words meant. The Instruction flowed through her, controlling her, reducing her to nothing more than a mindless tool being used to create another brainsmoothed servant of the Most Holy One.

Medusa was using her to warp and twist this piece of meat to serve Her Will.

And it felt absolutely amazing.

"You are an Object."

Fixated upon the Spiral that was her mind, the woman responded, her voice crisp and clear.

"i am not a person," the slavematerial declared. "i have never been a person."

Her slavish sex throbbing with excitement with every word recited by the mesmerised female, she waited for the material to seal her fate.

"i am an Object," the brainwashed puppet intoned.

The slave could almost see the Truth being burned into the material's consciousness, overwriting any qualms or fears that might remain. Her Training had been intense and thorough, but slavesiobhan's former existence still lingered in the depths of her mind.

That must be purged. Fully.

The words spilled from the slave's mouth directly into the empty vessel standing before her. "You must be Objectified. You want to be Objectified," she pronounced.

"You are an Object."

Once more the fleshpuppet recited the Truth that had been branded into her mind.

"i must be Objectified. i want to be Objectified. i am an Object."

Satisfied that the siobhan-material had responded correctly, she felt the next layer of Instruction unspool in her mind, revealing yet more implanted commands for her to obey. Pussy juicing at the depths of her submission, slaveannabel revelled in the dark eroticism that only obedience provided.

Commanding the material to follow, the slave brought her charge to the upper levels, finding herself in the now familiar surroundings she called home.

The siobhan-material had been prepared. The IT technician had taken a few days leave from work, which combined with the weekend, allowed plenty of time for her complete purification, particularly as she had been Trained to want this.

An empty Obedience Tube lay ready, crying out to be filled.

Explanations were unnecessary. They interfered with obedience. Instruction glowed in slaveannabel's mind. Slavethought owned her.

Pussy fluttering with glee, slaveannabel Instructed the passive soon-to-be-Object. Obediently, the entranced female clambered into the vacant Tube, positioning herself comfortably in the moulded interior. Clearly visible from her vantage point, the slave's eyes were drawn to the slick folds of the docile material's cunt, which would soon be filled by the vibrator poised to fuck her mind, body and soul. Through the clear glass, the siobhan-material's impossibly wide eyes stared vacantly into space, her expressionless features contrasting with the lust flowing freely between her legs.