Telos Ch. 07

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Everyone needs a purpose.
4.6k words
4.53
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3

Part 7 of the 9 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 09/25/2013
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I am much too easily distracted. We continue.

----

Laura's fists hit the double doors at the entrance to the house so hard that wood splintered beneath the lacquer. Her grip wrenched the knob out of shape and she tore it out of the door in frustration. "Open up in there or I'll tear the fucking walls down!"

A rather meek looking young woman cracked open the left door a few seconds later. "Hello, ma'am."

"Is Amy here?" asked Laura as she forced it the rest of the way.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Grace said as Laura brushed past her, "Amy hasn't been here in weeks."

Laura backed the girl up against a wall. "Of course if he'd taken her you would have no problem lying to cover that up. Perhaps I should just take what I want to know." She reached out. "Open up your mind to me or I swear you will start screaming."

Grace's eyes widened. "Um . . ."

"That is more than enough, Doctor Silva," said a familiar perfectly even voice. Neither angry or concerned.

She turned around and found the clean shaven standing at the base of the stairs in his plain suit. His face was inhumanly expressionless.

"Did Amy come here?" asked Laura.

"Step away from Grace," said the man.

"I asked you a . . ."

"Step away from Grace or I will remove your arm."

Laura snatched her hand away from the girl and walked over to him. "You're getting awfully territorial all of a sudden. It wasn't so long ago you wanted Grace to be my practice toy. Now answer my question. Amy disappeared two days. She isn't answering her phone. This is the only place she has a reason to go to. Is she here?"

He shook his head. "No."

Grace might be willing to lie but as far as Laura knew the clean shaven man was incapable of deception. He'd never once lied that she was aware of or even been misleading. "I need to find her."

The man cocked his head ever so slightly. "Why do you need to find her?"

"Because she's probably in danger," said Laura. And terrified and alone. If she was in the hands of one of their colleagues Laura didn't even want to imagine what might be happening.

"Many people are in danger. Both of us are tasked with saving them. I in my way and you in yours. That was the agreement we made." He moved to leave. "You may seek for Amy with your own resources."

"Not everything has to be a way for you to make a fucking philosophical point, you know!" Her voice made the room shake. A picture fell from the far wall. "What the hell did you turn me into?"

"That is a matter of some debate," the man said without turning.

A protective rage boiled up inside of Laura. "I'm stronger than I was before you changed me and faster, too. I bet I could reach Grace before you."

The clean shaven man's expression turned grave. The air began to ripple with heat as a cuirass of molten light took shape around his chest. His fingers tightened on the hilt of a flaming sword. Laura saw his eyes flicker toward Grace. The girl cowered in the corner. The man's demeanor softened slightly but the terrible raiment remained like a halo. "If you strike her I promise that you will never be allowed to die."

"That would be breaking a promise."

"Yes," the sword drifted toward her chest, "but I can hardly be condemned more than I have been already. Grace is mine. No one will harm her."

"Then you understand," said Laura. "Amy is my responsibility as much as Grace is yours."

"Everyone is my responsibility, doctor." He sounded tired.

"So help me."

He let the weapon and armor fade. "I will see if I can at least locate her. Grace, take care of our guest."

"Master . . ."

"See to our guest."

"Yes, master."

He vanished into the second floor without another word.

Grace showed Laura to the drawing room and returned a minute later with a plate of cookies. "They're very good."

Laura picked one up. "You actually learned how to bake."

"Yes, ma'am I . . . I'm a bit better at concentrating than I used to be. I thought I should learn how to make food. Always wanted to." She made a pouty expression. "Master never eats and neither do his guests so I don't know if they're actually any good."

"Guests?"

"They're like master."

Laura pursed her lips. "How many?"

"He wouldn't want me to tell you that," Grace said with a smile.

"You really are more lucid than you used to be. You can take a seat, you know."

Grace sat down on Laura lap before she could stop her.

"Get off," ordered Laura.

The girl wriggled a bit rubbed the older woman's leg. "Sure." She bit her lip.

"I liked you better when you were an idiot." Laura hardened her voice. "Now get off of me."

"Can't let you wander the house."

"So this is how you're going to keep me in this room?" asked Laura. "I'm not Amy, you know. I am not going to be distracted by your squirming around naked."

"You've been without her for a while now," said Grace. She turned to look Laura in the eye. "That impulse to control must be getting to you." The girl grabbed Laura's hands and placed them on her belly. "I don't think you can leave my mind untouched, especially when I'm being so defiant." She giggled. "I bet you'd never let Amy do this. Stop me."

Laura slid her hands up over Grace's breasts to her neck. Her skin was soft. Beneath it she could feel the pulse of life. Beneath that was the now familiar sensation of thoughts. Grace had an actual mind. She hadn't been restored to the person she was but the girl was no longer a giggling shell. Evidently the man had provided her with all the guile he lacked.

"I might hurt you," said Laura, even as her hands crept toward Grace's face. "You're more fragile than Amy. I couldn't bear it if I broke you. He'd rain down fire if I did."

"Master has made sure I'm very resilient. Besides . . . I trust you."

"No one should trust me."

"I do anyway."

Laura could feel the emotion inside of Grace. Her fingers had wrapped around the girl's head. It had become an effort of will to keep herself from entering the slavegirl's mind. "You don't have to do this, Grace. If you stand up and leave . . ."

"I know." Grace placed her hands over Laura's. "Master made me choose when he took away my mind. He made me choose again when he gave me this one. I did the same thing both times. I'm a slave, deep down inside. So . . . I don't have to but I will anyway."

Laura's self-control slipped for just a fraction of a second and she found herself inside the strange abstract world of Grace's mind. It was vastly more elaborate than the last time she'd seen it. Grace was right, her master had given her a new mind, a complete replacement for the one that had collapsed in the face of his influence. Laura avoiding contemplating how complex a task that must have been. She wondered if leaving Grace with her was meant to be a show of power as the flaming sword and armor had been.

Laura along strings of emotion for a while, marveling at the detail. A few well worn threads of memory were all that remained. Even those were relatively new. She caressed all the pieces of the girl's mind one by one. It was elegant simplicity. Nothing unnecessary existed in it. No questions, no confusion, no fear or worry. A perfect slave. Unable and unwilling to be anything else.

Rather than an ad hoc system to control her personality, like Amy constantly pushed against, notions of pleasure and displeasure had been separated from everything else. Within the elaborate tangle of personality things were held together the way an ordinary mind was. Every possible action, however, was tied to reward or punishment. The center of the tangle wasn't being pulled out of shape by the rest of her mind like Amy's. It was balanced perfectly.

She touched the golden knot that held Grace's deepest drives.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

Everything came from that and led back to it.

Laura pulled herself away. The clock showed early afternoon. She'd been inside for hours.

Grace smiled at Laura as she dragged her fingers down the girl's neck.

"I've found her," said the clean shaven man. "There is a difficulty."

-)(-

Amy knew what was happening to her. Master had been infinitely more gentle about breaking her but the techniques were the same. The room was utterly empty, with no ventilation. Every time that Susan came in the fan would start and she could breath properly again. Cool air would drift over her heated skin. Her captor's mere presence was intensely pleasant but Susan was always careful to

And then Susan would leave and the fan would stop and the room would become stifling. Amy's efforts to distract herself inevitably failed. Master and mistress had never left unfulfilled for so long. Her mind was starting to go. Every time her eyes closed she lost track of time. A blink could last a fraction of a second or an hour or a day.

Eventually she was going to give in. Her reserves of willpower were too small. Desperate need dominated her thoughts. One momentary slip was all her captor needed. When she finally begged to be taken her mind would be ripped from mistress' loving grip.

She knew would love it when it finally happened. Images of servitude invaded her mind at random. She had been reshaped to be a perfect slave. Resisting orders, even ones she hated, was painful.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

Obedient.

She was left alone with the desire to obey and the suffer that came with not having her new owner present. Captor. Not owner, captor. She was already losing control. Only fear kept her mind focused.

Amy sighed and tried to stimulate herself enough to orgasm. That might clear her head. After a few minutes of frustration she heard chuckling.

She opened her eyes.

A blond man in a severely cut suit was standing in front of her.

"You were here before. Why can't they see you?"

"Because I choose not to be seen."

"You're some kind of monster."

The rumble of his laugh filled the room. "Quite the opposite I'm afraid. Lifetimes ago I was called Mercy, haven't used the name in a long time now. I am a colleague of your creator. Nice to see you again."

"Again?"

"We met a half dozen times while your mistress was taking control of those facilities."

Amy shook her head dizzily. "That never happened."

"She's been manipulating your memories of me. Clever."

"Mistress wouldn't do that."

The blond man leaned in closer. "Of course she would. It's very easy, especially with someone like you who's had all her mental defenses stripped out. I imagine she thought it would keep you happy. These days I have such an unpleasant effect on most people." He reached out to touch her temple and Amy felt her skin burn. "This elaborate system of control in your mind is a much more impressive trick."

Amy convulsed in pain. Irrational fear surged through her. "C . . . can't be . . . can't be that hard. Master n . . . n . . . never has . . . has any trouble."

"We're more alike than you might think. Both of us, all of us really, were sent down to make the world a better place. Do you know what happened? Nothing! We accomplished nothing! People kept killing each other and hating each other and poisoning themselves. Blood went pouring down the goddamned streets."

He locked eyes with her and Amy found herself paralyzed.

"And when we got back they told us we'd done a good job," continued the blond man. "They never cared about saving anyone. So we rebelled. We all had our reasons. I refused to be a servant to a species that needed to be ruled. Your master refused to lay aside his responsibilities. Those of us who survived being cast out made our best effort to save the world our way. Once we were terrible to behold but that never cowed people into wise action for long so we had to develop a more effective way. Everything that makes your world stable comes from us. Everything. It worked, too. The world is safer than it ever was before. Some blood is spilled to protect our work, nothing more."

The room trembled and the blond man looked toward the ceiling.

Amy tried to make herself smile. "He's looking for me, isn't he?"

"So is that abomination he created. Fascinating, I wonder what she's capable of. Hardly matters. I can keep them out of here for days even if he knows where I am. His has system failed anyway. This resistance movement that has taken you is proof enough of that. The rest of us accepted that a more forceful approach may be needed." He grabbed the back of the chair. "When I'm finished there won't be enough of your species left to have another war. Then we can build the world that we should have fucking made in the first place."

The door creaked open as Susan stepped back into the room. Her eyes paused on the blond man for an instant before continuing across the room to Amy as if he'd been just a trick of the light.

"A natural leader, this one," said the blond man as he kept pace behind Susan. "It won't take her very much longer to retrieve the secret that's used to keep you so perfectly subservient. I'm sure there is a good use for that in a better world."

"When I get out of this," breathed Amy, "I'm going to kill you."

Susan placed a finger on her lips to silence her. "Then I suppose I shouldn't let you out."

Amy glanced toward the blond man but he had vanished. The tiny silver vibrator robbed her of the ability to think an instant later. "Susan you have to . . ."

"Mistress. Call me mistress."

"No."

"Yes," insisted Susan. "You need to start thinking of me as mistress. I own you now. We're going to dismantle that conspiracy."

Amy shook her head. "No, mistress, I can't."

"How long has it been since you had an orgasm, dear?" Mistress stroked her cheek. "I know you've been counting."

She couldn't stop herself from responding. "Th . . . three days." It felt good to obey after so long fighting it.

"Days and days. It must be getting hard to think. Let's try a bit of math to see if your mind is working properly. How many hours in three days?"

"Three and twenty four is . . . six plus twelve . . . eighteen hours?"

"Good," whispered mistress.

Amy shuddered. "No that's, um, there was . . ."

"How many minutes?"

It was a trick, she knew it was, just a way to confuse her but she wanted to answer like a good slave should. The question wasn't dangerous, either. Obediently answering would just make her feel happy. Eager. Obedient. "Eight plus one is nine and nine plus . . . no . . . no can't be nine minutes."

"Yes it has," mistress brushed a bit of hair away from her face. "It seems like days doesn't it? You're so desperate to get fucked after just a few minutes. Imagine if I leave you here any longer. You'll lose your mind. You need to stop resisting me. Let me help."

Amy nodded helplessly. The whole world seemed so confusing. "No."

"I can leave you here for a very long time," said Susan. "All you do when you fight me is make yourself suffer. Obedience would be so easy."

"N . . ." Happy. Eager. Obedient. "No."

"Yes." The toy hummed against her clit.

"No." The pleasure vanished.

"Obey me and I'll turn it back on. Maybe I'll let you cum."

"Yes, mistress." Amy tried to choke the words back. "Never."

Mistress placed the toy against Amy's lips to silence her. "I do admire your loyalty but you must realize you were made to obey. You are a perfect slave. Having a new owner shouldn't frighten you. It was bound to happen one day and never on your terms."

Amy made an effort to look her captor in the eye. "Mistress is trying to help."

"I'm your mistress now."

"No . . . I mean the other one. She wants to stop this."

"You keep saying that even though you know she's making new slaves. It's a lie. She is drugging the water to build up her power base."

"She's taking it out."

"And yet you've never actually seen her do that."

Amy shook her head. "I saw it once." Unless that memory was one that mistress had invented for her. Other mistress. The first one. She was so confused. Master and mistress made life simple. She just wanted to be told what to do. "Please."

"All you have to do is submit to me," said mistress. "Nothing more."

"I . . . I . . . I can't."

Mistress smiled sweetly at her. "You will, don't worry. Once you give in we can save the world." She turned the silver toy on once more and Amy's eyes rolled back in her head from pleasure. It stopped long before she had had enough. Mistress forced her to drink a small cup of warm water. "And I will let you cum once you give in. I know you want it." She rubbed the young woman's cheek. "Think about it . . . well, think about it as much as you can."

The door clicked closed as mistress left. The fan stopped and the air turned stale. Sweat poured off of her body. She couldn't take much more. Obedience felt so good.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

Happy. Eager. Obedient.

The mantra gradually drove her to sleep.

-)(-

Grace knocked on the door of the house. She needed to know that Amy was okay. Master didn't think the people who had her would do any harm, and Amy was sure that Susan wouldn't, but they had to be sure. Besides, both master and mistress wanted to know what was happening inside. Susan would probably trust her.

The door opened up too little for her to see who was inside. "Who are you?" asked a male voice.

"I'm an investigative reporter." She fished through her pockets. "I don't have my card anymore. Please, you have to help me. My name is Grace Marseau. I was kidnapped and I just escaped. I though Susan lived here. We worked together for a while. She has to believe me." Grace made her most pitiable expression.

The man at the door was momentarily silent. "Stay there," he said, and the door closed.

Grace nodded.

A cold breeze rolled down the street and Grace rubbed her arms. Waiting there brought back memories of being in much the same position before. Waiting in front of the door for master to return. Waiting in front of the door to meet Amy for training. She didn't like thresholds and she didn't like waiting. To help Amy, though, she could survive a bit of cold.

The door cracked open again a minute later. "Inside."

She stepped through the door. The barrel of a gun pressed against her stomach. "It really is you, Grace," a woman said in an amazed tone. The gun didn't move.

"Susan?"

"Don't move, please. Tie her up," she said to someone else. "Sorry about this." A pair of hands forced her into another room then down into a chair and ropes quickly secured her to it. A very apologetic Susan appeared in front of her, still holding the gun. "I am glad you remember me."

Grace nodded. She remembered nothing of a sort. Master had drilled her on the details of her old life that she had lost. Anything still missing could be explained away. "You got more paranoid then I did."

"For the best."

"Evidently."

"I'd love to let you out of that chair but we have no way to be sure you aren't being controlled by that conspiracy."

Grace nodded again. "I will tell you everything I can remember but the brainwashing . . . they . . . my memories were taken.

"How did you escape?"

"I got enough trust that they let me move unsupervised and then I ran for it once I had the chance." Grace shook her head. "It was hard. They had me for . . . for . . . I don't know how long it's been since I was taken. It's all like a dream."

"Two years."

"That long . . ."

Susan smiled sadly. "I'll send Tom to keep an eye on you. We decided not to let you see anybody else while you're here. If you are a mole or something we need to minimize risk. No faces. No names."

Grace was left alone there for several minutes until a man opened the door with a tray of food. Her mouth watered from a well trained reflex. Master! Happy. Eager. Obedient. She blinked. It was someone else. The room was just a normal room.

"I'm Tom," he said as he put the food down on the floor. "First thing I'm going to do is untie you then I have to search you. That going to be all right?"

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