The Rabbit Hole Ch. 11

Chapter 11: Brainwashing

Nadia

"You ready to sleep?" asked Nadia.

"Is Joanna there?" asked Penny.

"No." Nadia bit her lip and curled deeper into the covers of the bed. They were in their new motel room. They switched hotels every other day, trying to stay safe. Joanna was at work. They both worked at the same bar under false names. Joanna tended bar, and Nadia worked as a server. Nadia much preferred teaching but it helped that she was paid mostly in cash and was completely unremarkable in every way. If Penny came asking for a short red-head named Nadia, she'd find nothing. If she asked for a short goth girl named Prudence, she'd find Nadia.

"Does she know about these calls?"

"No," admitted Nadia. "She doesn't need to know."

"You don't feel guilty, do you?"

Nadia chewed her lip in silence. Joanna didn't know about Nadia's secret phone or phone calls. She had no idea that Nadia was talking to their enemy every night, helping Penny fall asleep. Nadia was careful to never talk about herself, to never give away any detail about their lives that could help Penny find them. She didn't mention that Dr. Tuminaro had fled the country with his wife. He gave them some start-up cash as a favor to Joanna and a penance for what he did to Nadia. That helped them buy time to get jobs.

"Tell me about your day," said Nadia.

"Well, I spent most of the day talking with my agent and other bookers, cancelling the tour."

"Really?" asked Nadia.

There was a pause. Nadia could imagine Penny's pursed lips. She didn't like to be interrupted. Nadia had discovered that this was less of a dialogue each night. Instead, Penny would go on about her day and expect Nadia to listen, not talk.

"Well," said Penny slowly. "I don't have my attendants for one." Penny let that sink in, trying to make Nadia feel guilty. Nadia made sure never to apologize. The further she got from Penny, the more her mind cleared. Sure, she felt bad for knocking Penny out, but that was it. She didn't feel bad for being kidnapped or brainwashed. She would never apologize because Penny was sad. Penny deserved to be sad, even if it hurt Nadia to hear her this way.

"Besides," sighed Penny. "I don't feel up to it. It isn't the same anymore. I could trance the whole room with a word. There is no challenge, no spectacle to it anymore. It almost feels beneath me, you know? Imagine Superman entering weight lifting competitions. That's what it's like for me."

"Uh-huh," said Nadia. This was her role, let Penny know that she was listening. She needed to punctuate every few sentences with an "absolutely" or a "I totally understand."

"Besides, there are strange cases coming up with people I've formerly tranced. Some are suing me, which isn't the end of the world, but annoying. Others are calling me a fake, which is also perfectly normal. But a vocal minority are calling me a witch or demon-possessed. I'm being boycotted by some people. I had to walk past protestors to get into a Vegas show last week. Christian protestors in Vegas. Who thought it possible?"

Nadia curled up onto her side, listening to Penny rant or ramble about whatever she wanted. She wasn't entirely sure why she called Penny the first night. She told herself that she wanted to check up on her friend. She wanted to make sure Penny was doing alright after her head injury. She also knew that Penny could never sleep, most of the time commanding Nadia simply to hold her until she passed out. She thought maybe Penny couldn't sleep and could use some help. That was all.

Of course, after that, Nadia couldn't stop calling Penny. After the first three or four fights with Joanna over it, after Joanna destroyed her phone and Nadia spent the emergency money to buy a new one, then - and only then - did Nadia realize this wasn't an entirely altruistic endeavor. She missed Penny, and these phone calls were for her as much as the hypnodomme. She liked the sound of Penny's voice, yes, but she loved the way Penny saw the world. For someone who was so insecure, she was so sure about what she saw. She valued her opinion more than anything, even if she was haunted by demons. She was confident in a way Nadia could only dream to be. It was intoxicating, like talking to the president or a successful war general. They had endless stories about sticking to their convictions, about finding their own way out of the fog of humanity. Nadia always felt like she needed to be led out of the fog by the hand of someone stronger or wiser.

"I've also found some inconsistencies in my powers," added Penny. "Sometimes a command is stricter than I thought it would be. I told a barista she was beautiful, and she immediately quit her job to become a model. Other times, the command doesn't stick like I thought it would. For example, I told an arrogant venue manager that he should stop talking. He did, but he started signing the words in sign language. Within a few minutes, he was talking again. I'm not sure what is going on with it, and I can't do a tour without knowing how reliable my powers are."

"But you were still powerful before your powers. You had fantastic shows, like the one Joe and I went to. That didn't stop you from being a great hypnotist."

There was a pause on the other end. "That's what I miss about you, my little Dolly."

"Don't call me -"

"You always believed in me," continued Penny. "Not the powers, but me." Penny sighed. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too." Nadia made sure not to bring up the anxiety and stress of the past few weeks. She woke up one day and her whole life was on fire. She had no job or boyfriend. She'd alienated her friends and family. She was on the run for her life, trying to sort out who she was and where she belonged. She had no home and no stable job. She had a trans girlfriend and a mysterious ghost she spoke to on the phone each night. All of that was Penny's fault. Wasn't it?

"I've missed my Dolly."

"Stop," whimpered Nadia. "Don't call me that."

But all Nadia wanted in the whole world was an off switch. She wanted a way to shut out all the thousands of decisions, the thousands of mistakes, she made since leaving Penny. Life without Penny was free, but it wasn't better. She wasn't happier. She was alone, and everything depended on her. Joanna always asked Nadia what they were going to do next. It was Nadia that comforted Joanna in the haze of dysphoria. It was Nadia that comforted Penny each night on the phone, and each woman resented the other because Nadia was there for both of them. It was an impossible situation, and the temptation to slip back into Dolly's skin was irresistible.

"Don't you miss it?" asked Penny.

"I don't miss watching you destroy people," whispered Nadia.

There was a long pause. Nadia wondered if she'd gone too far, but Penny didn't hang up. "I've been good," she said finally.

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't destroyed anyone, as you call it. No victims in my apartment. No dolls in the suite downstairs. I've let Harold go. He deserved better. I don't lash out. I don't hurt anyone."

"But do you want to?"

Penny said nothing.

"Do you miss Dolly or do you miss the control?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Nadia sighed. "I don't know, Penny. I just don't know."

"Yes, you do," said Penny. Her voice was growing stronger. "You miss it. I know you do. That's what made you special, Nadia. Everyone else I trance is a victim. I know that now. They don't want it. I've forced it upon them and ruined their lives. I don't know what I'll need to do to make up for that, but I know it will cost me dearly. But you aren't like them. I've been in your journals, in your mind. You've told me all your dirty secrets, and you want this more than anything. When I make you Dolly, it isn't an invasion, it's a gift."

Nadia pulled the phone away from her head and whimpered, biting her lip and smothering her face with her pillow to muffle the sound. She put her mouth back to the phone and took a deep breath, composing herself.

"That doesn't change what you did. How could I go back to you after what you did to Joe?"

"Does Joe regret his transformation?" asked Penny.

"It doesn't work that way, and you know it. She's making the best of a terrible situation, one you forced on her."

"I know," sighed Penny. "That's what I've learned. I've forced so many people to love me or serve me, but that's what made you special. I never forced you to love me, did I?"

Nadia said nothing, knowing that the silence would hurt Penny. It may very well kill Penny, but she couldn't open this back up. This could be Penny's influence over her mind again. She couldn't trust herself anymore. It was all too complicated.

"Tell me," said Penny. "Why do you keep calling me each night?"

"To help you fall asleep."

"A strange thing to do for someone that destroyed you."

"You never destroyed me. You -" Nadia stopped herself. Penny what? Liberated her? By enslaving her? Penny gave her everything she wanted?

"You can come back to me," said Penny. "You can be my Dolly again."

"No. I can't -"

"No more attacks. No more lashing out. Just you and me. You can replace Harold, serve me with that mind turned off. Just think about it. I'll take care of everything. You won't have to worry about paying the bills. You won't have to worry about Joanna catching you. You can walk around in rubber or nothing at all. How does that sound?"

Nadia's breath went ragged. She thought about it all the time. She waited tables in a dark bar in the middle of the afternoon, listening to drunks and assholes. It was too easy for her. Her mind would wander. It would fear. It would imagine. Each day she wondered what it would be like to do this job with her mind off. She would walk into work and then step out seven hours later like it was a dream. It sounded too good to be true.

Is that what Penny was offering her?

"Penny, I -"

"Just listen," interrupted Penny. "I know you don't believe me. You think this is a trap, but it's not. I've changed. You could serve me as long as you wanted. I'll snap my fingers and make all those pesky thoughts go away."

Nadia stifled a moan. She wasn't sure if she wanted Penny to hear it or not.

"But I could bring them back just as easily. Late at night, I don't want Dolly in my bed. I want you. I want you pressed against my back while I sleep. I want your breath on my neck while we talk about our days. I want this but closer. We can be so much closer, dear."

"I'm scared," whispered Nadia.

"Then just take my hand." Penny's voice took on a melodic nature. "Follow me down the Rabbit Hole. Listen to the sound of voice. It's the only thing in the whole world. You don't have to worry about anything besides listening to me. Stay with me, Nadia. Stay with the sound of my voice, and I'll lead you down the Rabbit Hole. Close your eyes."

Nadia obeyed.

"What do you see?" asked Penny.

"Your face."

"Look closer," commanded Penny. "Look so close that my face becomes simply an image, like a painting or a photograph. Look so close that the image becomes just shapes. Look so close that the shapes become just lines of color. Do you see them?"

"Yes."

"Good girl. Follow the lines of color. Watch them dance and swirl in front of you. All those pretty colors, follow them. Follow them and listen to the sound of my voice. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Are you relaxed?"

"Yes." Nadia reached her hand under the covers to her wet pussy.

"Just listen to the sound of my voice. Let the words sink into you. All you need are the words and the pretty colors. That is all you need to do. You don't need to think. You don't need to worry. All you need to do is watch and listen."

"Yes," whimpered Nadia. Her fingers hesitated before touching herself.

"You like the sound of my voice?"

"Yes."

"You like to watch the colors?"

"Yes."

"You like to be in the Rabbit Hole?"

"Yes."

"Are you aroused?"

"Mhm," whimpered Nadia.

"Do you want to touch yourself?"

"Mhm."

"Will you keep watching and listening while you touch?"

"Mhm."

"Don't cum until I tell you to."

"Yes, Mistress Penny."

"Good girl."

White light flooded Nadia's vision as pleasure and satisfaction rolled through her. Those quickly faded and gave way to fear. What was she doing? How could she be so stupid?

Nadia pulled her hands away from her pussy.

"I need to go," she practically shouted into the phone. She didn't wait to hear Penny's response. She ended the call and put the phone back in its hiding spot.

"Stupid girl," she said to herself. "Stupid, stupid girl."

*************

On weekends, Joanna and Nadia volunteered at a safeway house for people that had been thrown out of their house for being LGBTQ or runaway from home because of it. It was Nadia's idea, though she had little experience coming out to anyone or processing that alienation herself. She felt like Joanna could use that positivity and environment, but she doubted she could convince Joanna to actually go through the program herself or seek therapy. Joanna had earned a permanent distrust of therapy or being one on one with someone that wanted to help her. Thanks, Penny.

Nadia spent her mornings at the safeway house, her afternoons at the bar, and her evenings with Penny. On weekends, she and Joanna worked at the safeway house together or went on dates, trying to act as best they could as though their lives were normal.

On her days at the safeway house without Joanna, Nadia found herself gravitating towards a group of trans women. They were all in different stages of transition. Some of them were thrown out of their houses by their parents. Most of them were homeless at this point. It was devastating to Nadia. She couldn't imagine being ostracized from her family or society in general, yet these women were never in despair. Oh, they had their moments. Sometimes they would cry on her shoulder about never being in the body they wanted or never being accepted for who they truly were. But they never stayed in that place. For many of them, the house was one of the few times they got to be themselves. They could wear dresses with applause and not scorn. They could get help doing their makeup or hair. In a club of outcasts, no one is left out.

Nadia wasn't sure why she gravitated to these women instead of her fellow lesbians. For one, she didn't feel like she belonged among other gay women. She still didn't feel gay. Sure, she was attracted to women. The more time she spent with Joanna or Penny, she felt like she was only attracted to women. But being a lesbian seemed to come with accoutrements. She didn't have a phase where she was in the closet. She never came out. She didn't face bullying or shaming. Penny forced her into this place, and she decided to stick around here. It was confusing and stressful, and Nadia rather preferred to walk away from that conversation entirely.

Nadia had become somehow initiated among these girls. She gossiped with them. She taught them. They taught her. She comforted them. They comforted her. They never judged her when she was insensitive or used the wrong pronoun or misspoke. They were a safeplace, and she needed a community after months of isolation with Penny or Joanna.

She told herself that she spent so much time with the trans women to better understand and help Joanna. She wanted Joanna to get to know these girls, to see that there are men out there begging to be transitioned the way she transitioned. Well, maybe not the exact same way she transitioned, but something close to that. So many of them could never afford makeup or panties, let alone hormones or surgery. Nadia imagined if she told these girls about Penny, many of them would be lined up around the block to have the same treatment given to them.

However, Nadia knew the real reason she talked to these women. It was for Penny. She half wondered with each new girl that came into the safeway house if they were a recent victim of Penny. Maybe they transitioned under her programing and now were out on the street, desperate. Maybe Nadia could find them and in some way she'd be close to Penny again. She wanted to be near enough to the flame to be warm, but never near enough to be burned again.

More importantly, there was a more radicalized group of trans women that were obsessed with hypnosis. At first, Nadia thought that these girls were hypnokinksters like herself. Maybe they got off on feeling powerless and controlled. But as she got to know them, she found that many of them used the files like free therapy. They were willingly brainwashing themselves, in a manner of speaking, though one girl, Ginger, insisted that brainwashing was a totally offensive term.

"Brainwashing has such a negative connotation." Ginger told her one day. Ginger was not a redhead, by the way. She was a strong blonde woman who walked around the safeway house like an empress in her leopard skin bathrobe. She was chainsmoker, a flirt, a tease, and a great listener whenever Nadia was struggling to understand what Joanna was going through.

"What term would you prefer?" asked Nadia.

"Rewiring."

"That can be just as bad."

"Sure, but people rewire their brain all the time. Oh!" She slapped Nadia on the wrist and jumped in her seat. "Let's call it a renewing of the mind."

"A renewing of the mind?'

"Yes, like the Bible Verse. Romans 12:2. 'Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.'" Ginger laughed. In a former life, she was studying to be a pastor. She thought religion could help her control her urges, but religion had never met Ginger before. It didn't stand a chance.

"That's a little twisted," said Nadia with a small smirk.

"Well, I am a little twisted. It suits me." Ginger put out a cigarette and lit another. "Besides, it lets me make a point."

"Which is?"

"Do you approve of prayer and meditation?"

"Sure." Nadia was interested to see where she was going with this.

"Well, those people want to be a certain way, but they aren't that way yet, right?"

"Right."

"But you don't go around telling them not to brainwash themselves."

"But I don't think pastors should brainwash people."

"Ah," Ginger raised her cigarette to punctuate the point, "but would you mind if pastors encouraged their flock to renew their minds?"

"I guess not."

"Exactly. So let's avoid loaded language like it's a bomb, shall we?"

"Sure," said Nadia with a shrug.

"In church, people have learned that their minds are wired one way. They have decided this way is bad. Perhaps they like drugs or murder or lying or stealing, and they want to stop, right?"

"Sure."

"And they use prayer and meditation and reading the Bible to stop doing that. You're okay with that?"

"Sure."

"Then you're fine with me listening to the Bambi Sleep files each night."

"What?" scoffed Nadia. "No, I'm not. Those encourage you to be a mindless cock slave bimbo doll. Those are terrible."

"First of all, let's calm down," said Ginger with a smile.

"Fine," sighed Nadia.

"If I want to be a mindless cock slave bimbo doll, that's my right as a person to manifest my own destiny, am I right?" Ginger raised an eyebrow, daring Nadia to challenge her.

"I guess, but it's not healthy."

"Says you," said Ginger.

"Says lots of people."

"The same people that would tell me that if I cut off my cock for a cute little pussy that I'm destroying some beautiful gift from the universe?"

"Probably."

"Well fuck those people," said Ginger, tapping the ash from her cigarette.

Nadia couldn't stop her laughter. "Fair enough," she said. "You're not worried that it's dangerous or irreversible?"

"I doubt it is. If I can renew my mind into being a mindless bimbo, I can probably renew my mind right out of it."