—-
The tense silence might have welcomed laughter, but Alexis merely stared.
Felicia Prime?
“You’ll forgive my skepticism, but I find that hard to believe.”
The gorgeous redhead wasn’t vexed at all. “I assure you it is the truth.”
Alexis nearly scoffed. “Then our positions would be reversed.”
She steeled herself and waited, unconvinced by this sudden, improbable twist. “Felicia” remained unperturbed. Delighted, even. She nuzzled Alexis’ nether lips, grinned when Alexis gripped the edges of her seat once more.
“Oh, how to convince you?”
The spark of mirth hadn’t gone away. She took a moment to compose herself, and closed her eyes
Her voice took on a dreamlike quality. “As we speak, Christine is in one of our processing nodes on level seven. She has already been secured to a table, and will be undergoing mind-wipe in a matter of moments.
“Drones sigma nine and seventeen are supervising the session. They have undergone reinforcement programming earlier, and have been directed to make Christine fully obedient. Sigma nine herself will then be slated back into the processing queue, to be reassigned as pleasure drone along with Christine. Seventeen will assist them both in their entrancement phase.”
She paused, eyes still closed, frowning in concentration.
“Hannah has been taken to one of our lower sub-sections. She is now unescorted, controlled only by means of trance vectors, which reinforce subliminal impulses and guide the various slaves to their assigned brainwashing stations. Her reorientation will involve deeper pleasure conditioning than what is usual at this stage. She will be released very soon.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and settled back on Alexis. “Convinced?”
Alexis gave a neutral shrug, hoping it might hide her astonishment. “You’ll be releasing Hannah, then?”
Felicia smiled. “Most certainly. She presents us with recruitment opportunities that outweigh other considerations. She will have no memory of her stay here, of course, but at night she will dream of the sluts she is to enslave for her Mistress. She’ll wait patiently until she’s properly activated.
“She ought to be fully inducted, of course, but I confess I enjoy releasing girls who still have minds of their own. In many cases, the slave impulses slowly reassert themselves, and the girls find new ways to intensify their conditioning. In fact, they embrace the pleasure of submission; by the time they return with mesmerized females ready to be processed, most of them need very little adjustment.”
“And Christine?”
“Technically speaking, she was already primed for the second stage of enslavement by the time she arrived; however, she still retains a sense of self, which must be purged before she is assigned a collar. All our slaves are completely brainwashed before they are given one—the devices control them, but layers of redundancy insure total obedience. It is a delight to feel their thrall minds, pulsing in unison as they strive in their various tasks.
Alexis gripped the edges of the curule chair a little tighter. Felicia’s matter-of-fact tone belied the evil, seductive process she described, and that turned her on even more than Felicia’s tongue-teasing.
At least I can still think. Even with a Mistress’ mouth inches from my pussy.
“A delight to feel them, you say?”
Felicia nodded underneath the lush of red curls. “Yes. The transmitter module you so wisely apprehended. Every collar is fitted with one, and it allows me to peruse, monitor and adjust the thoughts of all my slaves. The carrier wave conveniently matches that of most wireless networks, allowing all of the modules to be linked to one Master device from a great distance.”
She paused, arching an inquisitive eyebrow.
Alexis reflected for a moment. A faint grin spread across her face.
“Of course. The golden collar you’re wearing.”
Felicia positively beamed.
“Quite correct. With the flick of a thought, I can oversee the enslavement process of a given drone, direct a recruiter to initiate conditioning of her intended victims, or reward a servant with instant pleasure. The process is very similar to the synaptic override that is built into the control collars—a needle insert, linked to a central processor—but far more complex. In essence, I can virtually experience all of a slave’s sensations and thought processes. And I have. Many, many times.”
She gave a small, involuntary shiver.
Alexis sensed the unfulfilled longing behind it. Felt it, in the heat that flowed over her pussy in a long, dreamy sigh.
The sudden, intuitive flash came to her like lightning.
“The collar,” Alexis breathed softly. “You merge with the minds of thralls constantly, and it allows you to feel everything they feel.”
Understanding made her shift with excitement on the chair. Whatever precautions one took while using the collar wouldn’t amount to much. By its very nature, the device was a window into the souls of slaves who lusted only for obedience.
“You created the ultimate control device… ”
Alexis couldn’t bring herself to say and it enslaved you.
But Felicia was shaking her head.
“I wasn’t the one,” she said.
—-
“We have no record of her name. It was purged from all databases long ago.”
Felicia Prime looked serene. “All that remained were schematics, control protocols, a well-developed methodology of enslavement, and a rather lengthy list of financial and real-estate assets. Whoever she was, her genius when it came to technology was uncontested. She studied the human brain for years before conducting her own private experiments.
“Had her pursuits been noble, she might have achieved great things. She was, however, a Mistress-to-be, and yearned to subjugate other minds.
“Early successes led to a number of key breakthroughs, and soon she owned her first slaves. Her marked preference for controlling women, and her desire to rule over them as Mistress, fueled her resolve. She refined her induction techniques, expanded her research, and eventually engineered the first control collars. She used them to leash unsuspecting victims, turning them into obedient, loving sluts.
“She reveled in the process of sexual conversion—lived for it, you might say. She was brilliant and dangerous and seductive, and ruled over an ever-increasing number of adoring slaves. Through careful planning she increased her wealth, expanded her recruitment activities, and furthered an agenda of enslavement and control.
“Her slaves obeyed her. Worshiped her. She wore her instrument of control—a golden collar which allowed her to shape and reshape slave minds as she wished.
“We don’t know why there was no feedback compensator built into the unit. The early blueprints make no mention of one. Perhaps she did not suspect of the dangers of melding her thoughts with those of slaves who had been thoroughly brainwashed. Perhaps she yearned to experience the bliss that comes with knowing that one is owned and obedient. In any case, years after her position had firmly been established, she selected her most valued, capable servant—a woman whose mind she had stolen in the early days of her rise as Mistress—and made arrangements for her own enslavement.
“On this point, we can only speculate. Some records mention a special addition to the drone lists, but no tracking information is provided. Other records flatly contradict this information, so it’s impossible to say. Perhaps she is still part of the organization she created, lusting and obeying as we speak, fulfilling her duties as a nameless drone. Perhaps she was sent elsewhere to expand the organization, again in a drone capacity.
“Perhaps the information we have is a lie, and she was never enslaved at all; she could be orchestrating another conspiracy, waiting for the right time to return home and claim us all as her loyal servants. If she incorporated special subliminal safeguards in the base induction protocols she developed, all the drones in this facility—in all of our facilities—belong to her, and don’t even know it.
“In any case, the slave she selected became Mistress the moment she was given the golden collar. It mattered not to the other slaves that she had once been a drone, that she had been recruited as they were, that she had served and serviced Mistress as they had. She wore the control device, therefore she was Mistress.
“In her old life, she had been brilliant. Like her enslaver, a woman of science, of great intellect and skill. In some ways she was even more dedicated than her predecessor, having experienced firsthand the pleasure that is Mistress’ gift to each and every slave. In the years that followed, she devised new refinements for the collars. Streamlined the induction process. Experimented with new entrancement methods. She incorporated new advancements in technology to facilitate the command and control of the slaves she now ruled over.
“She took the name Sandra Prime.”
Felicia shuddered again. The mere utterance of the name filled her eyes with a longing Alexis could barely fathom.
“When the time came, she too, vanished. The golden collar was a reminder of a life spent enthralled, and it subtly reinforced her initial conditioning. She came to relive her own experiences as a drone, over and over. It was only a matter of time before she longed to join her sisters once again, embracing her former existence—but she knew the perils of doing so without safeguarding the organization’s direction and purpose.
“The search for the ideal candidate was surprisingly short. Many potential Mistresses were identified; one proved particularly apt at deciphering layers of conspiracy, before a slight misstep brought her at Sandra Prime’s feet, wearing a collar she’d stolen from one of the slaves sent to keep her under observation.
“Despite her initial (and most accidental induction), she proved remarkably able when the time came to replace Sandra Prime. Once programmed into the ideal Mistress, she continued the work begun by her predecessors.
“She wore the golden collar, and ruled over us as Erin Prime. She expanded our activities, oversaw the creation of new facilities such as this one. And as with the others, her recollections of thralldom—though short-lived—remained at the forefront of her mind. She had been instructed to take charge of Sandra Prime’s permanent enslavement, and witnessed her moment of surrender; that look of pure, undiminished joy at becoming a slave was something Erin Prime herself understood all to well.
“And yearned for.”
Felicia looked up meaningfully in Alexis’ eyes.
“Like all the Mistresses that came before her. And since.”
—-
Alexis held Felicia’s steady gaze.
“How many?” she breathed. “How many Mistresses?”
Another shudder. Another dreamy stare.
“I am the seventh. Recruited three years ago, I served Tamara Prime as personal slave for one, before she selected me as a replacement. Her last command to me was to purge all of her thoughts and memories, and to assign her to the experimental conditioning wing of this facility.”
“As a test subject?”
“Of course. She had devised some of the new enslavement procedures herself, and longed for the opportunity to experience them firsthand. I’m pleased to say it led to an unqualified success—she became the first of a new breed. I’ve grown quite fond of using her since.”
Something flashed in Felicia’s eyes. Amusement? Nostalgia?
“Naturally, she’s quite happy to be used. To pleasure and serve anyone and everyone, in any way that her Mistress sees fit. The experiment she devised led to further refinements in our induction methods, and are now standard for the deep conditioning of pleasure drones.
“It’s a lengthy process to be sure, but one that holds very special rewards.”
Alexis’ head was spinning again. This complex, this whole conspiracy had taken on a life of its own. It fed upon itself, but also replenished its ranks with new talent.
And enslaved it.
Thralls embracing pleasure. Mistresses embracing slavery.
Caution forced Alexis to pause. Felicia’s intent, her whole mise en scène… all of it was becoming painfully obvious.
She looked down at the woman—the slave-mistress, she decided—who was kneeling before her.
There was only one question left to ask.
“Do I have a choice?”
Felicia grinned. “Mistresses always have choices.”
—-
In the prolonged silence that followed, the very statues around them seemed to be holding their breath.
Alexis finally nodded. “Tell me.”
Felicia rose up on her knees; still leaning upon the dais, she tilted her body forward a little, pressing between Alexis’ open legs.
She was tall. Despite the fact that one of them sat in the curule chair, Felicia’s ringed nipples brushed against the undersides of Alexis’ breasts.
“Your first choice is freedom. You may leave this room if you wish; an escort will be provided so you may safely exit the complex, and transportation will take you to the airfield. From there, you may request the destination of your choice. Arrangements have already been made to provide you with papers should you wish to leave the country.”
The pause was long enough for Alexis to arch an eyebrow.
“There is more to this, of course.”
Felicia nodded. “When you arrive at the airfield, one of the slaves that accompanies you will speak a verbal trigger. You will find yourself in trance one last time, and the memories you have of your travels to this place will be erased from your mind. This will not affect your recollections of the complex itself, or of this conversation—you will simply forget the how and the where.”
“A reasonable precaution.”
“In addition, you will be provided with a portion of the funds we stole from your employers. The total sum was sizable, and your allotment will insure a most comfortable retirement. It is a small price to pay for the data and material you so readily provided.”
Not that I had a choice, Alexis thought wryly.
“The funds will be transferred to a private account under your name, and there will be no hope of tracing anything back to us. All attempts to find your way back to this place, to uncover clues or connections pointing to a location, will be a futile endeavor.”
Alexis thought it over. “My former employers aren’t the forgiving type. They take a dim view of betrayal, even when the traitors happen to be helpless. Going back would be a death sentence for me, no matter where I choose to hide.”
Felicia shook her head. “The board of directors has been targeted for enslavement. Even though their clandestine programs have been crippled, they remain a possible threat. They would not alert the authorities about the thefts, of course, but they have other means of retaliation at their disposal.
“They will be dealt with in short order. The company itself will become one of the many fronts used to shield our activities.”
That brought a faint smile—ironic, as endings went—but a shiver of fear lurked behind Alexis’ thought. At last she was beginning to understand the scope of what she’d stumbled into.
“And my second choice?”
Felicia ran a suggestive finger along Alexis’ upper thigh. “Why, enslavement, of course.”
Alexis went stiff on the chair, then forced herself to relax. “Go on.”
“The process can be as simple, or complex as you desire. You may demand slow, gradual hypnotic conditioning, which will reshape your thoughts one at a time, or you may opt for more forceful methods, which will quickly break down any resistance and prepare you for full induction.”
Felicia lips had curved into a blissful smile.
“The memories of your old life will linger for a time, if only to remind you of the choice you made. Of the pleasure that comes with having chosen to become a slave. As time goes by, the memories will vanish, and you will sink deeper into your thrall’s existence. Never again will you think of, or dream about, the outside world.
“Your willingness to submit will translate into the deepest, most thorough obedience. In essence, you will become the perfect slave.”
Alexis tried to ignore the lust flaring in her sex. “You… speak as if this has taken place before.”
Felicia nodded. “Three other Mistresses-to-be came before you, in my tenure as Prime. All were recruited in circumstances similar to yours. One wore the collar at one time during her capture, but the other two did not.
“In the end, they all declined the first and third options offered to them, and chose enslavement instead.
“They live happy, entranced lives, and are among our most valued slaves. We take special care to shape them into jewels of obedient perfection.”
Alexis felt a dark shiver as the finger traced sensuously back and forth on her thigh, and wondered what kind of answer she’d give with Felicia’s tongue pressing against her cleft.
The fog of arousal obscured her thoughts anew. She tried to think past the dreamy longing, but three women had preceded her here—‘Mistresses to be’ who’d chosen to be thralls, becoming servants to a conspiracy where submission pulsed in the minds of slaves and Mistresses.
Heat bloomed between Alexis’ open legs, and she relished juicing before Felicia, knowing that the bliss she’d experienced in the last few hours would be nothing compared to what awaited her if she gave the word. If she meticulously outlined the manner of her enslavement… the way in which each of her thoughts would be crafted and reshaped… layers and layers of conditioning she’d submit to—willingly—until nothing but her desire to please Mistress remained.
She would serve. She would obey.
Mistress Felicia… Take me…
“You mentioned a third choice,” said Alexis, her voice strained with effort.
Felicia remained perfectly still. The smile had vanished, replaced with faint hope.
Alexis knew. They both did.
Hundreds of slaves—thousands—living, breathing drones who lusted for new direction and purpose. Who would take Alexis as Queen and Goddess, who would live to fulfill all of her dreams and aspirations. Who would do anything to please her every whim.
Who would bend and twist and shape the minds of other females, until they worshiped her, too.
Alexis struggled with herself. Her pussy yearned for Felicia’s mouth again, but she didn’t know where the climax would take her… what choice it might lead her to make. The woman kneeling before her would obediently lick and suck and tongue, so far gone in her own mindless pleasure she wouldn’t care if she created a new Mistress or a new slave.
With sudden, daring resolve, Alexis raised a hand to Felicia’s slender neck. Her fingertips brushed the golden band. Felt its cool against her touch.
Slave. Mistress.
Both. Neither.
Felicia, still on her knees, waited patiently. To claim, or be claimed.
Leaning forward, Alexis thought of Hannah as she rewarded Felicia with a chaste kiss. She pulled away just a little, and their lips warmed in the heat of each other’s breath.
A storm of lust now raged inside Alexis, and she could feel her heart drumming inside her chest, matching the pulsing pleasure inside her pussy.
She pressed a finger against Felicia’s lower lip. Slid it down to caress her chin.
And decided.
“Give me your tongue, slut,” she said.
—-
Alexis Prime took a long, pensive look around the board room. This will take some getting used to.
She sat at the head of the table, but no one present was in a position to object. Dr. Barthelme, hunched over the polished mahogany surface, looked like he was having a heart attack. His flabby cheeks had gone purplish, his eyes bulged from their orbits as if ready to explode; the white shirt he wore was torn open, his red silk tie bouncing in his lap like a frenzied snake.
The low rasping sound that escaped his lips could have been mistaken for a strangled gasp, but the control collar—though fastened tightly around his trunk-like neck—did not interfere with his breathing.
The handful of other males who remained around the table made similar noises. A few rocked back and forth in their executive chairs; others slumped in their seats, their hands shaking like wet noodles at their sides.
Alexis savored the moment. Years of answering to her arrogant superiors had left a bitter taste in her mouth. From now on, things would be different.
A nude, collared Christine stood at attention behind Alexis’ chair, whispering the enslavement mantra that kept her dazed; she was happy to be near Mistress, if only to emphasize the point. Things would be different indeed.
Of course, some of the men would have to be kept on for the time being, until their positions could be filled with a minimum of fuss. The collar interface wouldn’t make it easy, but this was trouble Alexis would have to put up with. Evidently, physiological differences between males and females accounted for very poor motor function control—Vice-Director Wallace had confirmed as much when he’d passed out.
Perhaps the strain of conversion had been too much. He made an occasional gurgle as he drooled on the gray carpet floor.
Intended design flaw? Alexis thought so. Her predecessors had been quite gender specific in their pursuits. Vindictively so.
Then again. Maybe Alexis’ takeover just didn’t sit too well with Wallace and the rest.
The ladies, on the other hand, were faring much better. A few of them were already fully enthralled, responding well to induction commands from their collars; Alexis did a quick head count, noting with satisfaction how doctors Salinger and Nakera sat upright in their chairs, dreamy smiles etched on their faces, their minds awash with glee as Mistress commanded their will and attention.
The others moaned in their seats, their limbs twitching as they attempted to resist. Eve Wiedeman seemed especially cognizant in her struggles, her frantic eyes riveted on Alexis as she fought the evil pleasure building up inside her.
“Can’t… won’t… let you… get away… with this…”
Alexis smiled back at her, impressed. “Most of the others have already begun to accept the change. Perhaps I’ve misjudged you Eve. Your resistance is worthy of reward.”
She concentrated. The golden band around her neck was a snug fit—identical to Felicia’s, save for its size and a few key improvements. The slender needle that ran through the back of her neck tingled as the device responded instantly to her mental command.
Eve gasped in her chair and went stiff, her mouth curving into a silent cry of orgasm.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said Alexis, turning her attention to the others, “Thank you for attending today’s meeting. I’m sure my return comes as a shock to all of you, but I trust that in a few moments, all of you will be quite used to the idea.
“I’ve taken the liberty to dismiss my other slaves for the moment. A few of your subordinates will need control collars as well, in order to insure a smooth transition; they won’t be back for a while. slave Christine will remain here with us, and the others will return in time to escort some of you to nearby recruitment facilities.
“Sadly, I must inform you that a number of changes will be implemented shortly. Gender policies, for one, will undergo drastic revisions, in keeping with our new objectives. A number of you will not be coming back.”
Wallace moaned and flapped around on the floor. Alexis ignored him.
“Those of you who are staying will be assigned to new tasks. The whole process will involve quite a bit of reorientation of course, but I know you will all be quite thankful for this once I’ve changed your minds.”
She paused, glancing at the few empty seats around the table. Vacancies would be filled easily enough. The right kind of technical and managerial talent could be lured by generous job offers—career women who would make fine additions, once they were properly indoctrinated.
It wouldn’t all be outside talent, of course. At Alexis’ behest, slave-mistress Felicia had begun a thorough search of the Prime database. Somewhere in the organization, former mistresses obeyed and served in a variety of menial tasks. Alexis was determined to find them.
Reshaping their minds would probably pose a difficult challenge, but one Alexis was eager to take up. Each mistress had her own unique skills. Each had ruled competently over her slaves. Each had expanded the ranks of the organization, improving induction technology and techniques. That kind of expertise would not go to waste.
With luck, once their conditioning had been readjusted, they would be happy to serve as personal assistants—slave-mistresses all—to Alexis Prime. Their drive and genius would provide her with an invaluable tool.
And there were other useful secrets too, buried somewhere in the Prime database. Information on choice slave candidates. Detailed files on a host of rival organizations. Intricate projects and recruitment schemes shelved by her predecessors. A whole history of enslavement, waiting to be discovered.
And I’ll be the one writing the next chapter, Alexis thought.
A few of the women cried softly as they shook in their chairs. Others moaned—“Oh, Mistress!”—as they succumbed to the pleasure.
Alexis paid them no heed, too engrossed in her own thoughts.
The road ahead was nebulous, but then, she had no illusions as to where it would lead. Somewhere inside her, the memory of her own enslavement had left its mark. It throbbed softly, and filled her with longing. In the years to come, the collar she wore would tempt her with the lure of hypnotized, brainwashed minds, pulsing in a chorus of obedience.
Returning her attention to the table, Alexis felt the faintest trace of envy for the sluts who would soon worship her.
Felicia lied after all. Mistresses don’t really have choices.
Alexis sighed. She would believe the lie.
For a little while, at least.
—-
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/imakrr/recruitment_ff_mc_fetish_part_4_of_4