Mantras of Submission

[mc, mf, fd, bd, ds]

((A somewhat dark piece about total enslavement. I was in the mood for that at the time I wrote it – late 2014 – , it seems.))


Seth Burns sat by his laptop, glassy-eyed, unable to process any thought of his own. On the screen, an open e-mail with a video attachment proudly displayed visual triggers of yore on a loop, and a single command written in big, bold letters:

WAIT

And so he did.

He should have known better. He should have listened to his gut feelings when they told him that danger was near, that the tide was about to turn. However, years of hard-earned freedom had blinded him to the memories of his servile past and, as George Santayana once wrote, “Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Or, at least, have someone else do it for you.

As he sat there, completely locked in place, his ears registered the faint sound of a door opening, followed by the unmistakable rhythm of dominant heels. The huntress had come to collect her prey.

“Drop to the floor, and come to me on your hands and knees, slave,” She commanded. “Keep your eyes down until instructed otherwise.”

Seth obeyed instantly, his subconscious drowning in a sea of endorphins. He stopped when he saw Her glossy knee-high boots, and became consumed by a worshipping urge that rendered everything else pointless.

“You remember these boots, don’t you?” She teased. “Of course you do. After all, you spent most of your days in My service making sure they were clean and properly polished. I can see that you’re yearning to submit to them once more, but not yet. I do not reward rebellious pets so quickly…”

Slowly, She began circling him, fully aware that each click of Her heels reinforced the desire of subservience. His cock twitched helplessly as the line between past experiences and present predicaments began to blur, giving birth to a single reality.

“I’ve waited a long time for this day,” She revealed. “I knew I’d find you sooner or later, so I thought of a little something to punish you accordingly for your escape. You want to be punished, don’t you?

Seth remained silent, ashamed.

“I asked you a direct question, slave, and you will answer! You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he muttered.

“Speak up, pet! I didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, Mistress! I want to be punished. Please, punish me, Mistress!” Seth begged, desperate tongue sticking out.

“Oh, I most certainly will. Not here, though. We’re returning to My domains. Crawl behind me, pet. Since you’re not coming back here, anyway, you might as well show all your neighbors the pathetic creature you really are.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he acquiesced, too deep in his programming to acknowledge anything else besides Her will.

He trailed behind Her like an obedient puppy, enjoying every step of the way.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Seth found himself once more in Her private dungeon, the only place he deserved to call home. As promised, His Mistress had something special in store for him, something he was sure to never forget.

After being ordered to strip, he was wrapped in a tight, constricting latex cocoon, a pair of wireless headphones in his ears and a featureless isolation mask with a single breathing hole covering his head. Completely restrained for as long as She saw fit, he was the perfect fetish mummy, ready and willing to learn for good the ultimate truth of his existence.

As the lights went out all around, words of power echoed from within the mask and infiltrated his brain:

Free will is an illusion.

You are nothing but a mindless fuckpet.

You will always obey any order without hesitation.

Time and time again, he heard the mantras of submission, smelled their nectar and tasted their scent. Inside his rubbery prison, the synesthetic delights grew in size and shape, swallowed him whole and spat him back out until all that was left was a grey deference upon his lips, never changing, immortal.

“Now, you’re everything you’re meant to be,” said His Mistress upon finally releasing Her drone from the joyful confinement. As She collared him and he sank dutifully to the ground, there was no doubt that all traits of his once defiant persona were gone. He would never question Her rightful authority, again.

To celebrate the occasion, that very night, Mistress and fuckpet paid a visit to a well-known mind-control community, and the full extent of Her control shone through and through.

How, you ask? Oh my, what a silly question! Just take a deep breath and remember your mantras… yes, that’s right…

Back to the Stories Index

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s