Rescued...?

It sounded almost like a threat when she said it that way, but the pleasure was taking the edge off Sarah's fear.

"One, Two, Three."

The warmth shifted to an explosion, blowing her apart. Tears were pouring down her face, and the pleasure consumed her entire body, swallowing her whole. Even in the haze, she could feel something shifting into place in her mind, that drifting, dreamy feeling she had come to associate with the voice in the headphones, back in that chair. But it was different. In the chair she had become nameless, faceless for long periods of time. She could still feel herself, here. She knew who she was, where she was, who she was with, why. But the feeling of trance was as delicious as ever-- hazy and dreamy, like ivy winding its way up a tree trunk, with only the faintest inkling of discomfort somewhere in the back of her mind.

Isabelle considered her. "Let's see, a few basic triggers to start us off. When I say, "Greedy Cuntwhore," you'll start salivating. When I say, "Heartless Slut," you'll lubricate like nobody's business. When I say, "Selfish User," your arousal will double. And when I say, "You can't ever have me," your mind will be filled with your most vivid memories of making love to me, and you'll crave it so badly it'll make you cry. In fact, these memories and images will be so vivid you'll practically be able to taste, smell and feel them as if they were real. And you'll become even more painfully aware of me, my scent, my location in the room. But you won't ever be able to touch."

Even in her dopey, happy state of mind, the vindictiveness of the triggers was clear to Sarah. She knew that without the haze of happy-making trance, each one would be like a knife in her heart to her fully awake mind.

"Last one's... a waste..." She managed to murmur the words. "Memories...already that vivid...longing already...that strong."

Isabelle stiffened, clearly understanding her. She ignored her comment, and went on. "And when I say, 'Mute,' you'll forget how to talk until I say, 'unmute.'" She added, pointedly. "When I say, 'Freeze,' you'll be immobilized until 'unfreeze,'and when I say, 'sleep like the trance whore you are,' you'll drop for me, to receive further programming. And when I say, 'wake up, you bitch,' you'll come out of trance again."

Isabelle pressed close to her again, bringing her lips to her Sarah's ear. "And one more thing-- I am going to erase my name from your mind. You can only ever think of me, or address me as Mistress. No matter how hard you try, you will never be able to remember my proper name. This is permanent."

Even through the fog of trance, Sarah's heart tightened in distress. No... Isabelle couldn't take her name away from her. That sacred prayer, repeated over and over, was the only thing that had gotten her through some of her worst nights. It had been like a blanket wrapped around her in the hell that had been that dark, isolated room in the facility. Her last link to her true self, keeping her from becoming faceless forever.

"Please...please not..."

"Mute," Isabelle said sharply. "You'll forget my name for good when I wake you up. Even if you hear someone else say it, your mind won't be able to process it. It will just sound like white noise to you."

She could feel tears on her cheeks, even though in her mind she knew she was perfectly happy and at ease, just like good girls always were in trance. She knew Isabelle was making her feel happy, even as she was torturing her emotionally.

"The last thing... no matter what trigger I give you, you will physically feel it activating in your mind, you will physically feel it changing you. And you will be able to clearly remember what it felt like before the trigger, even if you can't remember whatever it is I am making you forget. You'll remember the shape of the thing, you'll know where it should be, and you'll know why it's missing. And you will keep all the memories of the time you spend in trance with me, no matter how deeply I take you, Sarah."

Isabelle pulled back, and looked her over. "That's enough for now, I think. If the programming has taken hold, unit-2406 will say, 'Installation Successful.'"

The command was jarring to Sarah, even in trance. It put her back in that room again, put the words she was about to speak back on her tongue. "Installation Successful."

Isabelle snickered. "I haven't decided if I want to deprogram you or not, yet. Leaving a few of those old triggers kicking around in that empty head of yours is fun. Alright, darling. Wake up, you bitch."

Mental clarity returned to her. The happy, carefree feeling left, and she felt her heart sinking back down to that low, crushed feeling from before.

"M-" She cleared her throat, and tried again. "Mis-"

It really was gone. Mistress' real name. Plucked out of her head, and gone forever. The thought made her want to cry. She could feel the hole where it should have been. Its edges were smooth and clean-- the cuts had been surgical and precise. That was always Mistress' way.

The presence of the word offended her, and made her tears seem a more real possibility with each second.

She didn't know why she wanted to say it, but she did. She knew it wouldn't help-- it would only make it hurt more, but she couldn't stop herself. She'd spent too many nights whispering it to the dark -- to her faceless captors, to the voice in her headphones -- to resist the temptation with Mistress standing in front of her. Only she used to say it with Mistress' proper name. She never could again, now.

"I still love you," she said, keeping her voice tightly reined in. She carefully avoided addressing it to her audience, so her mouth wouldn't force her to say... that word. It would cheapen the entire sentence.

Mistress raised her eyebrows at that. "Really? Good. That will make the punishment more complete. And don't worry too much about that. You'll come to hate me just as powerfully before long."

She stroked the underline of Sarah's jaw again with her fingertips. "Now, I'm going to go out and leave you alone for a few hours. You're going to kneel here, on this hardwood floor, and masturbate yourself like a good little slave pet would. I'm not going to compel you to do it. But you should know that I have video surveillance throughout this condo, and if you do not, I will know. And I will punish you for not doing it. If you do choose to risk the punishment anyway, that's just fine. Please, use all that free time to ask yourself-- just what else can I take away from you forever? And ask yourself what you're willing to risk giving up."

Mistress gave her a condescending pat on the head. "Isn't it nice we both got what we wanted in the end?" Her voice was harshly sardonic, and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally poured out of Sarah's eyes. "You get constant, powerful orgasms and pleasure for your sluthole, and as many sexual partners as you want, and I get to live with you forever, without having to hide my past anymore. I really should thank you for breaking my heart, and calling off the engagement. It's worked out so nicely for us, in the grand scheme of things. Goodbye, slutpet. Don't wait up."

And with that, Mistress leaned in, her lips only inches from Sarah's, so close Sarah could feel her breath on her face-- if she just darted her tongue out quickly, she could get a stolen taste of Mistress' mouth--

Mistress laughed at her attempt, and pulled back. She pressed a kiss to Sarah's cheek. "Oh, darling. You can't ever have me."

The trigger was immediate and lethal. She felt it unfolding and deploying in her mind like a bomb, shattering her psyche. She could taste Mistress on her tongue, could hear her whispering her name in the night-- ''yes, Sarah, oh god, Sarah-- please, Sarah, baby, I love you so much--"

Distantly, dimly, she heard a door close, but it was too far away. She wrapped her hands through her hair, pulling at it in frustration, knocking against her skull with closed fists. Anything, anything to make the flashback less vivid. Mistress was beneath her, crying, pleading, and Sarah felt powerful, and she felt loved, and special, as she gave Mistress' clit one last lick, and she came apart before her eyes on the bed, beautifully open and exposed for Sarah to see. She was so beautiful like this, unspooling into easy relaxed freedom, completely undone.

The memory passed, but the longing in her heart didn't. She could practically feel Mistress walking away from her, down the hallway to the elevator. Each clack of her heels was like a cattle-prod to the heart, forcing it to beat.

A mess of frustration and heartache, Sarah slipped off the couch, and sank onto the floor. As humiliating as it was-- as painful as the memories were, now, she wouldn't risk losing a single one of them.

She took up an easy rhythm with her hand, the pleasure answering her summons almost immediately, flooding her with arousal again, distracting her from the hardwood digging into her knees.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember the feel of Mistress' name. In her mind, she could see herself alone in that small room, strapped to that chair, chanting that name like a mantra-- her only tether to reality, to herself, to who she was, for better or for worse, and to everything Mistress had meant to her-- to everything she still meant.

But when her past self spoke, only white noise came out of her mouth.

-END-

AN: Thanks for reading my story! Until next time,

Molded