The Truest Control Ch. 08

Time passed.

The process of changing a person takes a while. Often people willseem to show changes after just a few days, but these changes are usually short-term, and will revert if treatment is stopped at that point. To really change a person long-term requires constant environmental stimuli which persist for years. The brain starts to rewire itself after about four months of environmental change, but to make those changes permanent takes a lot longer. Fortunately for her cause, Liz was persistent, and Roger no longer had a way to resist her as his will became sublimated to hers. Every hour of every day, he was subjected to constant, overpowering conditioning and brainwashing that would destroy any mental ability of his to resist her will while heightening his physical and emotional dependency on her controlling and using him. Twice every day, every single morning and night, she would use his face to bring her innumerable orgasms. When she had reached the point where she couldn't orgasm anymore, he would beg her to do something humiliating, abusive, and degrading to him, and after he'd begged her hard enough to convince her that he really wanted it, she would gladly oblige. Meanwhile, Roger never experienced a full orgasm; at times, she would jerk him off to the point of orgasm, but she would always stop all stimulation as soon as the cum started to pour out, leaving Roger frustrated and not much more empty than he'd been before.

This state of affairs persisted. It did not stop, and would not stop. Roger lost count of time forever. He had become too stupid to remember or understand much, so much so that Liz finally stopped putting the intelligence-destroying powder in Roger's food. In theory, she could have kept adding it to his food and drink until he reached the point of being mentally handicapped, but that would have been no fun. She wanted him to retain his faculties, to be able to function as a human being; she certainly didn't want a vegetable for a slave. In the time they'd known each other, she'd brought his intelligence down to well below her level. He was still smart enough to function and talk normally, but not nearly as intelligent as her. That was the important thing: for him to recognize that he was always beneath her and would always be beneath her. As long as he remained in that position where she could always defeat him physically, mentally, and emotionally, then there was no need to bring him down any further. Her next step now was not to make him any stupider, but to make sure that what mental capacity he did have left was completely devoted to her. To that end, it was time to make the shift from dumbing down to plain old brainwashing.

It was classical enough in its form. One day, Liz tied Roger to the bed and slipped a pair of headphones over his ears. She'd created an audio file which consisted of her voice, but it wasn't just once instance of her voice; it was a whole cacophony of them, speaking simultaneously until they seemed to blend into one. Liz had recorded herself speaking, whispering, and shouting several different things, including single words like "submit" and "pussy," phrases like "kneel before me" and "destroy your will," and whole sentences like "You are only worthy to be my asslicker" and "I own every thought you have and every action you perform." She had then remixed these sound samples using a computer into a continuous loop that consisted of nothing but different layers of her voice saying these things all on top of each other. It was impossible to listen to them all at once. If Roger ever tried to focus on one instance of her voice saying something, several other voices of Liz would slip into his subconscious without his awareness. Liz kept the computer playing this sound loop 24 hours a day, and Roger never slept without the headphones on, but even when he was awake, whenever Liz wasn't actively doing something with him, Roger would lie on the bed with his limbs tied so that he was unable to move, and the headphones would be on his head, steadily breaking down his concentration and filling his mind full of the thoughts that Liz wanted to fill it with.

Liz wanted to dominate Roger's other senses as well, so she took to putting a pair of her worn underwear over his head when he slept, making sure that the crotch of the underwear was resting on his nose, so that he would be unable to get away from the smell of her vagina and ass. She also pasted several photographs of herself on the ceiling over the bed, so that when Roger would lie in bed, the only thing he would be able to see were the different photos of her. Most of the photos were of her wearing low-cut tops that showed her cleavage, but none of them were sexually explicit. Although Roger was obsessed with her crotch, he was only allowed to see it when it was actually in front of him. These moments when she pressed her vagina or butt to his face became the highlights of his life, the moments he lived for, and the only thing he looked forward to. Most of the rest of his life was spent lying on the bed in full-body brainwashing that took over all of his senses: all he could see were the photographs of his owner, all he could hear was her voices in his ears and in his head, all he could smell was her scent that had been left on the underwear over his face, all he could taste-if he stuck his tongue out-was the residue she had left on that underwear, and all he could feel was the deep-buried reservoir of semen that he had been born with which told him with every throb of his arousal that he would obey Liz. His five senses all ensured that every moment of his life, he would no longer be able to think about anything but her.

Occasionally they would do different things together. For example, a few days after she moved in, Liz showed Roger the camera which she'd hidden behind the dresser. It was actually the camcorder, not a webcam. When Liz had gone upstairs to retrieve her suitcase, she'd removed the webcam and swapped it for a plain old camcorder, which took much higher-quality video but had no ability to stream the video over the Internet. She'd also made the placing of the camcorder a little more visible than the webcam had been, so that Roger would notice it when he was on the bed with his head turned to the side. She had done this to prove to Roger that she knew what he would be doing while she was gone even though she couldn't see him. When she revealed that she'd known he would be showing off his self-degradation on the bed even though she wasn't actually able to watch him on the Internet, she asked triumphantly: "who knows you, bitch?"

"You do, Queen Liz," Roger said in humble submission. "You know me better than I know myself."

"That's right. Don't ever forget it. I decide what you will do and what you will think."

"Of course, Queen Liz. Please do; I need you to do it, since I can't do it for myself."

"Very good. Since you agree, I'd like to take some more time to look through your e-mails."

"My e-mails?"

"Yes, or more specifically, the e-mails whichused to be yours but are now mine. I noticed you have a lot of history in your account, slave. The mails go back several years."

"Yes, Queen Liz, that's true."

"Why did you keep all of those mails for so long? Some of them are more than ten years old."

"I didn't have any reason to delete them. I guess they just kind of piled up over the years."

"That's good, because now they give me the perfect opportunity to take your past away from you," she said with a smile. "Come with me to my computer. It's time to get some work done."

When they got to the computer, Liz said "Kneel." When Roger obeyed, she led him in front of the computer chair so that he was between the chair and the desk, facing the computer. Then she pulled his hands behind his back and handcuffed them around the base of the chair so that he couldn't move his arms and couldn't get away from the chair behind him. Then she pushed his head backwards so that it rested on the seat of the chair, and sat on his face.

Remaining in this position, with Roger's head on the chair and underneath her butt, Liz logged into Roger's e-mail account and began reading out loud the first e-mail she found there. After reading a few sentences of it, she asked: "I think we can agree that you don't need this message any more, don't you, slave?"

"Yes, Queen Liz, you're right."

"Then I want to delete it," she announced.

"Please," Roger pleaded in the way that he did whenever Liz wanted something. "Please delete that message from my mailbox, Queen Liz."

They went on like this, message by message. For every single message, Liz briefly scanned the text and then told Roger that he didn't need it anymore, at which point he would beg her to delete it. The process took a while because Roger had so many messages, but when she'd finally deleted the last one, Liz announced with satisfaction: "There. I've just helped you to delete all the memories of all your past communications with anyone else who isn't me."

"Thank you, Queen Liz."

"I think you can agree that you don't need those people in your life anymore," Liz continued.

"Not at all," Roger confirmed.

"Then it's a good thing we'll get rid of them," Liz said with a giggle. And then she began to compose an e-mail to everyone Roger had ever had contact with; she addressed the message to every single person in Roger's address book, and before she began writing anything, she attached the video, the same video she'd sent to all of Roger's co-workers. And then, Liz began to write, reading out loud as she typed. "Hello," she began. "I just wanted to write and let you know that I'm starting a new life, and I'm leaving you behind. You weren't a very good friend to me, anyway, so I'm happy to put you in the past. I'm no longer the person you once thought I was; I've become a cock-addicted sex fiend, and all day and all night, I want nothing more than to have huge cocks in my ass. I'm so desperate for them that even when I'm alone, I have to fuck myself with dildos because I just can't resist. In case you don't believe me, I've attached a video that shows what I like to do in my spare time. So, goodbye, loser. Don't ever write to me again. You are not a part of my future; you're just a part of my past, a past I want to leave behind for good."

When Liz had finished reading out loud, she paused, then said: "Beg me."

"Please send it, Queen Liz," Roger gasped with sincere need. "Please destroy every social contact I've ever had."

Liz clicked on the Send button. Then, after another significant pause, she said: "There it goes, being delivered to all of your family and friends. Everyone. You realize now that you've alienated and lost all of your friends, don't you, slave? Even your own family is disgusted with you and wants nothing more to do with you."

"Yes, Queen Liz."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I'm glad. I didn't need them anyway. All my contact should be with you and only you, my Queen."

"Forever," she added.

"Yes, Queen Liz."

When Liz thought about it, it hadn't really been that difficult to transform Roger from a boring nerd who was married to his job and did nothing of interest in his spare time into a sex slave whose only thought at every moment was how he could bring sexual pleasure to his owner and be obedient to her. It was likely that she'd just given Roger what he'd really wanted all along. But had he really wanted it to be this extreme? He might have occasionally fantasized about domination, control, manipulation, and submission, but had he really wanted to become as obsessed and broken a slave as he had become? It didn't really matter anymore, because she wanted it, and he wanted it now too.

The remaining formalities were performed without incident. Liz sold off her own apartment and kept the money, since she and Roger now had a much nicer house to live in. She had Roger legally transfer the ownership of the house to her, and she took great pleasure in reminding him that since it was now her house, she could throw him out of the house any time, just as he had once done to her. Finally, they got married. Roger had never really thought very much about marriage in the past, but given that his life was now irreversibly possessed by Liz, he really had no reason not to say yes, and she liked the idea of them being married, of his wedding ring being the only thing he ever wore as he was immersed in her full-body brainwashing and as she took repeated sexual pleasure from him.

"You realize you can never get away from me now, right?" she asked after the wedding as they were going home. "You're trapped in my control for the rest of your life."

Roger paused. "Wasn't that the point, my Queen?"

"Yes, of course it was. I just wanted to make sure that you realize it, since you're so stupid that you don't seem to notice anything other than your dick."

"No, I understand it," he said. "We got married so that you could own me, so that I'd have no hope of ever getting away from you."

"That too, yes, but also because we make each other happy and we want to spend the rest of our lives together. It's not that I'm forcing you to stay with me-it's also that we want to stay with each other. We got married not just as a legal form of slavery, although it's that as well. We got married because we want to share the rest of our lives together."

"Yes, you're right," he agreed, and in a rare moment of clarity and eloquence, Roger added: "I love you much more than I've ever loved anyone else in my life, more than I ever thought I could love anyone. You've brought me everything I could have ever wanted and made my life what it should have been all along."

Liz, pleased by this momentary outpouring of emotion, rubbed Roger's crotch discreetly, sending him into a wave of pleasure which caused him to quickly forget what he'd said. But Liz would remember.

When they got home, it would have been typical for the newlyweds to have sex to consummate their marriage. But Liz had other plans. First she emptied out his closet and piled all his clothes in the fireplace. "You will be stark naked except for your wedding ring for the rest of your life," Liz explained, "so it's only sensible that we get rid of all these old clothes that we don't need anymore so that we can make room formy clothes." She also put Roger's passport, driver's license, and every other ID and document that had his name on it on top of the clothes. Having finished this, she burned it all, and all remaining documentation of Roger's identity disappeared in the flames.

"That's it... It's all gone," she announced. "Every trace of the person you once were has disappeared, either deleted or burned. Your history has vanished, and from this point forward, the only thing you have left is your history with me."

"I'm happy about that, Queen Liz."

"Good. Since this is a special occasion, I'll give you a one-time gift to commemorate this day. I want to give you something you'll remember for the rest of your life."

And then she pulled off her top and bra, revealing her breasts to Roger for the first time.

Her breasts were the size of mountains, planets, galaxies... They spilled forth in such abundance that they seemed to swallow him whole, and he became lost in their endless abundance. He knew, in that moment, that his wife was a woman who could contain him and possess him for the rest of his life... and she would.

The next day, and for the rest of his life, he was never quite sure whether she had really revealed her breasts to him, or if he had simply imagined it in the hazy half-memories of her having orgasm after orgasm from his tongue, his fingers, and his penis. Had her breasts really enveloped him, or had her legs around his head become her breasts in his imagination, forming a false memory? He never found out, because the special occasion only happened once, and for the rest of his life, he dreamed about being able to see and touch those breasts again, a pleasure she always teased him with but never granted him.

When they settled onto their marital bed, she finished reading his sentence to him. "This room is your home now. For the rest of your life, you will never leave this room. There is a bathroom attached to the bedroom, and you will be allowed to go there periodically to use the toilet and keep yourself clean, but you will never pass through the bedroom door. You will never again have contact with any other human beings except me. When I am not with you, you will be locked in here alone. And I know you won't even bother to try to escape, because you have nowhere to go, no way to get the sexual stimulation that you need without my help, and no identity in the world other than as my live-in sex slave."

"Yes, Queen Liz. Neither of us would want it any other way."

"The good news is that you won't have to worry about being alone very often. Since we're both retired now, all of our time belongs to us. Or rather, to me; your time doesn't belong to you and never will. I will be with you most of the time, only going outside occasionally to buy groceries or conduct other errands, but most of the time I will be here with you, and we'll spend the rest of our lives with your face in my crotch and your body in bondage."

"Thank you, Queen Liz. This is exactly the life I want and have always wanted."

"That's good. You know why I'm giving you this life, don't you?"

"Because you want it, Queen Liz?"

"Yes, but also because you want it. I'm making all your dreams come true because you're important and special to me." She paused and smiled that beautiful, radiant smile of hers. "I love you, slave."

"And I love you, my Queen."

THE END